ome, his life has become
regulated. He rises at daylight, so as to save candles, and never works
at night. After he has made and imbibed his coffee, he digs or pulls
weeds, and cultivates his flowers, or works in some way about the
greens, for an hour or so, and at length, when he feels compelled to
literary work, and can no longer keep from it, he writes whatever he
feels that he must set down; and then he writes only as long as he
feels impelled. Holding, as he does, that all modern authors think too
little and write too much, he never writes as long as he can keep from
it. He looks forward with hope and pleasure to the day when he shall be
able to stop writing entirely. As for stimulants, he never takes them.
Yet he often smokes a cigar about the greens before beginning work. But
he would be ill if he attempted to drink while writing. As for making an
outline of his work, he generally jots down a lot of sketches or
pictures, one each day; then he puts these together, and the play, poem,
or novel is finished. He works for from three to five hours every day,
then goes out till dinner time. He once lived in a rude log cabin, built
on an eminence overlooking the city of Washington, D. C. There his
latch-string was always out. He now lives near Oakland, Calif., not in
one cabin, but in three, each as rude as that of any settler in the
Sierras.

George Manville Fenn, during a period of some eighteen years, has tried
a good many plans, with the result of settling down for the last twelve
or fourteen years to one alone. He prefers the daytime decidedly for
mental work, because the brain is fresh and vigorous from the rest of
the past few hours, and because the work produced is lighter and better
and can be sustained longer; and the writer is not exhausted when he
leaves his table. Brilliant work has often been done at night; but when
Fenn has made the trial he has found the results of a month's day-work
better, and there has been more in quantity. He invariably makes an
outline or skeleton of his work, and often with his story first in a
dramatic form, which, he thinks, adds much to the vigor and effect of a
tale. He is in the habit of using tobacco, but has never looked upon it
as a stimulus, regarding it rather as a soothing aid to reflection. He
dines early, so as to have the evenings free. The afternoon is spent in
work, a visit to town, or a chat with friends; he takes tea early,--at
six,--and afterward often writes for