?

That's how a book should be to be a great popular success, and one
that all the typewriter girls will have on their desks. I am guiltily
conscious that "Back Home" is not up to standard either in avoirdupois
heft or the power to unfit a man for business.

Here's a book. Is it long? No. Is it exciting? No. Any lost diamonds
in it? Nup. Mysterious murders? No. Whopping big fortune, now teetering
this way, and now teetering that, tipping over on the Hero at the last
and smothering him in an avalanche of fifty-dollar bills? No. Does She
get Him? Isn't even that. No "heart interest" at all. What's the use of
putting out good money to make such a book; to have a cover design for
it; to get a man like A. B. Frost to draw illustrations for it, when he
costs so like the mischief, when there's nothing in the book to make a
man sit up till 'way past bedtime? Why print it at all?

You may search me. I suppose it's all right, but if it was my money,
I'll bet I could make a better investment of it. If worst came to worst,
I could do like the fellow in the story who went to the gambling-house
and found it closed up, so he shoved the money under the door and went
away. He'd done his part.

And yet, on the other hand, I can see how some sort of a case can be
made out for this book of mine. I suppose I am wrong-I generally am in
regard to everything--but it seems to me that quite a large part of the
population of this country must be grown-up people. If I am right
in this contention, then this large part of the population is being
unjustly discriminated against. I believe in doing a reasonable amount
for the aid and comfort of the young things that are just beginning to
turn their hair up under, or who rub a stealthy forefinger over their
upper lips to feel the pleasant rasp, but I don't believe in their
monopolizing everything. I don't think it 's fair. All the books
printed--except, of course, those containing valuable information; we
don't buy those books, but go to the public library for them--all the
books printed are concerned with the problem of How She can get Him, and
He can get Her.

Well, now. It was either yesterday morning or the day before that you
looked in the glass and beheld there The First Gray Hair. You smiled a
smile that was not all pure pleasure, a smile that petered out into a
sigh, but nevertheless a smile, I will contend. What do you think
about it? You're still on earth, aren't you? You'll last the mont