ws at the first glance, of
judging which is good to announce and good to hide, of divining what
will catch the public, and of putting it forward in such a way as to
double its effect.

Monsieur Boisrenard, who had in his favor the skill acquired by long
habit, nevertheless lacked mastery and dash; he lacked, above all, the
native cunning needed to put forth day by day the secret ideas of the
manager. Duroy could do it to perfection, and was an admirable addition
to the staff. The wire-pullers and real editors of the _Vie Francaise_
were half a dozen deputies, interested in all the speculations brought
out or backed up by the manager. They were known in the Chamber as
"Walter's gang," and envied because they gained money with him and
through him. Forestier, the political editor, was only the man of straw
of these men of business, the worker-out of ideas suggested by them.
They prompted his leaders, which he always wrote at home, so as to do so
in quiet, he said. But in order to give the paper a literary and truly
Parisian smack, the services of two celebrated writers in different
styles had been secured--Jacques Rival, a descriptive writer, and
Norbert de Varenne, a poet and story-writer. To these had been added, at
a cheap rate, theatrical, musical and art critics, a law reporter, and a
sporting reporter, from the mercenary tribe of all-round pressmen. Two
ladies, "Pink Domino" and "Lily Fingers," sent in fashion articles, and
dealt with questions of dress, etiquette, and society.

Duroy was in all the joy of his appointment as chief of the "Echoes"
when he received a printed card on which he read: "Monsieur and Madame
Walter request the pleasure of Monsieur Geo. Duroy's company at dinner,
on Thursday, January 20." This new mark of favor following on the other
filled him with such joy that he kissed the invitation as he would have
done a love letter. Then he went in search of the cashier to deal with
the important question of money. A chief of the reporting staff on a
Paris paper generally has his budget out of which he pays his reporters
for the intelligence, important or trifling, brought in by them, as
gardeners bring in their fruits to a dealer. Twelve hundred francs a
month were allotted at the outset to Duroy, who proposed to himself to
retain a considerable share of it. The cashier, on his pressing
instances, ended by advancing him four hundred francs. He had at first
the intention of sending Madame de Marelle t