most energetic and Napoleonic young men to attempt
a similarly incredible feat and obtain an interview with that most
unapproachable of men--President not excluded--the Editor of "The
Times." The word "failure" being absent from the Bouverie Street
lexicon, it follows that the impossible was achieved, and the
electrifying result is printed below. In the wish that readers in vaster
numbers than usual may peruse the winged words of the illustrious
journalist, Mr. Punch offers the freedom of the article to all editors
the world over._

The office of _The Times_ is situated in a busy quarter of the great
city of London and is built of brick and stone. Light enters the
numerous rooms through windows made of glass. Outside is the roar of
traffic; inside, the presses groan, not always without reason.

My appointment with the august and retiring controller of the great
English journal--the Jupiter who directs its thunderbolts, determines
the size of type appropriate to every correspondent, and latterly has
added to the gaiety of nations by offering a tilting-space to the
ATTORNEY-GENERAL and Mr. GIBSON BOWLES--my appointment being at three
o'clock I was careful to reach the office a few minutes before that
hour, because I like to have time to look around and collect those
little details of environment and atmosphere which are so valuable in
themselves as to make it almost immaterial whether the person I am to
interview speaks at all.

Entering the offices, which can be described only as palatial, I was
struck by the thoughtfulness--no doubt appertaining to the head of the
establishment who was so soon, for the first time in history, to grant
me an audience--which had provided a parallelogram of some fibrous
material for the purpose of removing the mud from one's boots. A minute
later I was again delighted by the discovery of an ingenious contrivance
in the shape of a kind of peg or hook on which a hat and coat could
be placed. It is by just such minutiae as these that one place is
distinguished from another and character indicated.

Punctually to the minute I was shown into the Editor's room, where again
I was struck by the imaginative adequacy of the surroundings. Before
coming to the man himself let me say something of these. The floor was
not bare or even sprinkled with sawdust, as it might easily have been,
but it was covered by a comfortable carpet, probably from Axminster.
Comfort was indeed the note. The desk was ne