ow, my dear boy, there are men of ability, like that poor
d'Arthez, who dines at Flicoteaux's every day, who may wait for ten
years before they will make a hundred crowns; and you will be making
four thousand francs a year by your pen, to say nothing of the books you
will write for the trade, if you do work of that kind.

"Now, a sub-prefect's salary only amounts to a thousand crowns, and
there he stops in his arrondissement, wearing away time like the rung of
a chair. I say nothing of the pleasure of going to the theatre without
paying for your seat, for that is a delight which quickly palls; but you
can go behind the scenes in four theatres. Be hard and sarcastic for a
month or two, and you will be simply overwhelmed with invitations from
actresses, and their adorers will pay court to you; you will only dine
at Flicoteaux's when you happen to have less than thirty sous in your
pocket and no dinner engagement. At the Luxembourg, at five o'clock, you
did not know which way to turn; now, you are on the eve of entering a
privileged class, you will be one of the hundred persons who tell France
what to think. In three days' time, if all goes well, you can, if you
choose, make a man's life a curse to him by putting thirty jokes at his
expense in print at the rate of three a day; you can, if you choose,
draw a revenue of pleasure from the actresses at your theatres; you can
wreck a good play and send all Paris running after a bad one. If Dauriat
declines to pay you for your _Marguerites_, you can make him come to
you, and meekly and humbly implore you to take two thousand francs for
them. If you have the ability, and knock off two or three articles that
threaten to spoil some of Dauriat's speculations, or to ruin a book on
which he counts, you will see him come climbing up your stairs like a
clematis, and always at the door of your dwelling. As for your novel,
the booksellers who would show you more or less politely to the door
at this moment will be standing outside your attic in a string, and
the value of the manuscript, which old Doguereau valued at four hundred
francs will rise to four thousand. These are the advantages of the
journalist's profession. So let us do our best to keep all newcomers
out of it. It needs an immense amount of brains to make your way, and a
still greater amount of luck. And here are you quibbling over your good
fortune! If we had not met to-day, you see, at Flicoteaux's, you might
have danced atten