eek on bread and
orange-leaf tea, the misery that affected condescension in accepting an
invitation to dine, staring at the face of a watch (refused by the _mont
de piete_) with eyes half-blinded by starvation; the pretty misery,
young, brave, sweet, asking for "a treat" of cakes too jocosely to have
its asking answered, laughing and coquetting with its well-fed wooers,
and crying for hunger after they were gone.

Here for the first time since the France of his youthful days, Hearn
mixed with Latins, seldom hearing the English tongue.

During this time, while he was loafing and dreaming, he at various
intervals contributed letters to the _Commercial_. Now that his genius
has become acknowledged, these "Ozias Midwinter" letters, written in the
autumn and winter of 1877 and 1878, are appreciated at their just value;
but it would be absurd to say that from the accepted signification of
the word they come under the head of satisfactory newspaper reporting.
The American public wanted a clear and dispassionate view of political
affairs in the state of Louisiana, and how they were likely to affect
trade in the state of Ohio.

We can imagine an honest Cincinnati citizen puzzling over the following,
and wondering what in all creation the "Louisianny" correspondent meant
by giving him such rubbish to digest with his morning's breakfast:--

"I think there is some true poetry in these allusions to the snake. Is
not the serpent a symbol of grace? Is not the so-called 'line of beauty'
serpentine? And is there not something of the serpent in the beauty of
all graceful women? something of undulating shapeliness, something of
silent fascination? something of Lilith and Lamia?"

In April, 1878, apparently in response to a demand for news more suited
to the exigencies of a daily northern newspaper, came two letters on
political questions, written in so biassed and half-hearted a fashion
that it was not surprising to see the next letter from New Orleans
signed by another name. So the little man lost his opportunity, an
opportunity such as is given to few journalists, situated as he was, of
earning a competency and achieving a literary position. He himself
acknowledged that his own incompatibility of temper and will were to be
credited with most of the adverse circumstances which beset him so
frequently during the course of his life. A little yielding on his part
was all that was necessary at this time to enable him to keep his head
ab