atrian's shoulders; to
his fancy belong the steaming tureens of soup, the dishes of browned
sausages and sauer-kraut, and the mounds of flowery potatoes, bursting
plethorically through their skins. All that M. Erckmann adds to the menu
is the black coffee, of which he insists, with some energy, on being a
connoisseur. Habitually the co-authors meet to sketch out their plots
and talk them over amid much tobacco smoking. Then, when the story has
taken clear shape in their minds, one or the other of the pair writes
the first chapter, leaving blanks for the dialogues or descriptions
which are best suited to the competency of the other. Every chapter thus
passes through both writers' hands, is revised, recopied, and, as
occasion requires, either shortened or lengthened in the process. When
the whole book is written, both authors revise it again, and always with
a view to curtailment. Novelists who dash off six volumes of diluted
fiction in a year, and affect to think naught of the feat, would grow
pensive at seeing the labor bestowed by MM. Erckmann and Chatrian on the
least of their works, as well as their patient research in assuring
themselves that their historical episodes are correct, and their
descriptions of existing localities true to nature. But this careful
industry will have its reward, for the novels of MM. Erckmann and
Chatrian will live. The signs of vitality were discovered in them as
soon as the two authors, nerved by their first success, settled down and
produced one tale after another, all too slowly for the public demand.
'The Story of a Conscript,' 'Waterloo,' 'The History of a Man of the
People,' and, above all, 'The History of a Peasant,' were read with
wonder as well as interest."

X.

Anonymity in Authorship.

The question of the authorship of certain popular works has given rise
to a great deal of speculation. A few years ago, it will be remembered,
we were puzzling our brains to discover the name of the author of "The
Breadwinners." Among other stinging charges against him, to induce him
to break the silence, was the fling that it was a base and craven thing
to publish a book anonymously. "My motive in withholding my name is
simple enough," said the unknown author to his furious critics. "I am
engaged in business in which my standing would be seriously compromised
were it known that I had written a novel. I am sure that my practical
efficiency is not lessened by this act, but I am equally