of talent," went on Paul with enthusiasm. "Even Mr.
Calder, who is at the head of the English department, asserts that. Dick
Rogers has had a poem printed in the town paper--"

He saw a twinkle light his father's eye.

"Maybe you'd just call it a verse," the boy smiled apologetically, "but
up at school we call it a poem. It was about the war. And Eva Hardy has
had an essay published somewhere and got two dollars for it."

"You don't say so!"

"Besides, there is lots of stuff about the football and hockey teams
that we want to print--accounts of the games, and notices of the matches
to be played. And the girls want to boom their Red Cross work and the
fair they are going to have. There'd be plenty of material."

"Enough to fill a good-sized daily, I should think," remarked Mr.
Cameron, chuckling.

Paul took the joke good-naturedly.

"How do people run a paper anyhow?" he questioned presently. "Do
printing presses cost much? And where do you get them? And do you
suppose we fellows could run one if we had it?"

His father leaned back in his chair.

"A fine printing press is a very intricate and expensive piece of
property, my son," he replied. "It would take several hundred dollars to
equip a plant that would do creditable work. The preparation of copy and
the task of getting it out would also take a great deal of time.
Considering the work you already have to do, I should not advise you to
annex a printer's job to your other duties."

He saw the lad's face cloud.

"The better way to go at such an undertaking," he hastened to add,
"would be to have your publication printed by some established press."

"Could we do it that way?"

"Certainly," Mr. Cameron nodded. "There are always firms that are glad
to get extra work if paid satisfactorily for it."

There was a pause.

"The pay is just the rub," Paul confessed frankly. "You see we haven't
any class treasury to draw on; at least we have one, but there's nothing
in it."

The two exchanged a smile.

"But you would plan to take subscriptions," said the elder man. "Surely
you are not going to give your literary efforts away free of charge."

"N--o," came slowly from Paul. Then he continued more positively. "Oh,
of course we should try to make what we wrote worth selling. We'd make
people pay for it. But we couldn't charge much. Most of us have been
paying for our Liberty Bonds and haven't a great deal to spare. I know I
haven't."

"About what price do yo