按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页,按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页,按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部!
————未阅读完?加入书签已便下次继续阅读!
courthouse; Harwood broke away from the congrat…
ulating handclasps of his henchmen and hurried to
Judge Creswell's house to find Ida。〃
Pettit came up out of Alabama to write fiction。
The Southern papers had printed eight of his stories
under an editorial caption identifying the author as
the son of 〃the gallant Major Pettingill Pettit; our
former County Attorney and hero of the battle of
Lookout Mountain。〃
Pettit was a rugged fellow; with a kind of shame…
faced culture; and my good friend。 His father kept
a general store in a little town called Hosea。 Pettit
had been raised in the pine…woods and broom…sedge
fields adjacent thereto。 He had in his gripsack two
manuscript novels of the adventures in Picardy of
one Gaston Laboulaye; Vicompte de Montrepos; in
the year 1329。 That's nothing。 We all do that。
And some day when we make a hit with the little
sketch about a newsy and his lame dog; the editor
prints the other one for us or 〃on us;〃 as the say…
ing is and then and then we have to get a big
valise and peddle those patent air…draft gas burners。
At 1。25 everybody should have 'em。
I took Pettit to the red…brick house which was to
appear in an article entitled 〃Literary Landmarks
of Old New York;〃 some day when we got through
with it。 He engaged a room there; drawing on the
general store for his expenses。 I showed New York
to him; and he did not mention how much narrower
Broadway is than Lee Avenue in Hosea。 This
seemed a good sign; so I put the final test。
〃Suppose you try your band at a descriptive arti…
cle;〃 I suggested; 〃giving your impressions of New
York as seen from the Brooklyn Bridge。 The fresh
point of view; the 〃
〃Don't be a fool;〃 said Pettit。 〃Let's go have
some beer。 On the whole I rather like the city。〃
We discovered and enjoyed the only true Bohemia。
Every day and night we repaired to one of those
palaces of marble and glass and tilework; where goes
on a tremendous and sounding epic of life。 Valhalla
itself could not be more glorious and sonorous。 The
classic marble on which we ate; the great; light…
flooded; vitreous front; adorned with snow…white
scrolls; the grand Wagnerian din of clanking cups
and bowls the flashing staccato of brandishing cut…
lery; the piercing recitative of the white…aproned
grub…maidens at the morgue…like banquet tables; the
recurrent lied…motif of the cash…register it was a
gigantic; triumphant welding of art and sound; a
deafening; soul…uplifting pageant of heroic and em…
blematic life。 And the beans were only ten cents。
We wondered why our fellow…artists cared to dine at
sad little tables in their so…called Bohemian restau…
rants; and we shuddered lest they should seek out our
resorts and make them conspicuous with their pres…
ence。
Pettit wrote many stories; which the editors re…
turned to him。 He wrote love stories; a thing I have
always kept free from; holding the belief that the
well…known and popular sentiment is not properly a
matter for publication; but something to be privately
handled by the alienists and florists。 But the editors
had told him that they wanted love stories; because
they said the women read them。
Now; the editors are wrong about that; of course。
Women do not read the love stories in the magazines。
They read the poker…game stories and the recipes
for cucumber lotion。 The love stories are read by
fat cigar drummers and little ten…year…old girls。 I
am not criticising the judgment of editors。 They
are mostly very fine men; but a man can be but one
man; with individual opinions and tastes。 I knew
two associate editors of a magazine who were won…
derfully alike in almost everything。 And yet one
of them was very fond of Flaubert; while the other
preferred gin。
Pettit brought me his returned manuscripts; and
we looked them over together to find out why they
were not accepted。 They seemed to me pretty fair
stories; written in a good style; and ended; as they
should; at the bottom of the last page。
They were well constructed and the events were
marshalled in orderly and logical sequence。 But I
thought I detected a lack of living substance it
was much as if I gazed at a symmetrical array of
presentable clamshells from which the succulent and
vital inhabitants had been removed。 I intimated that
the author might do well to get better acquainted with
his theme。
〃You sold a story last week;〃 said Pettit; 〃about
a gun fight in an Arizona mining town in which the
hero drew his Colt's 。45 and shot seven bandits as
fast as they came in the door。 Now; if a six…shooter
could 〃
〃Oh; well;〃 said I; 〃that's different。 Arizona is
a long way from New York。 I could have a man
stabbed with a lariat or chased by a pair of chap…
arreras if I wanted to; and it wouldn't be noticed
until the usual error…sharp from around McAdams
Junction isolates the erratum and writes in to the pa…
pers about it。 But you are up against another
proposition。 This thing they call love is as common
around New York as it is in Sheboygan during the
young onion season。 It may be mixed here with a
little commercialism they read Byron; but they
look up Bradstreet's; too; while they're among the
B's; and Brigham also if they have time but it's
pretty much the same old internal disturbance every…
where。 You can fool an editor with a fake picture of
a cowboy mounting a pony with his left hand on the
saddle horn; but you can't put him up a tree with a
love story。 So; you've got to fall in love and then
write the real thing。〃
Pettit did。 I never knew whether he was taking
my advice or whether be fell an accidental victim。
There was a girl be had met at one of these studio
contrivances … a glorious; impudent; lucid; open…
minded girl with hair the color of Culmbacher; and a
good…natured way of despising you。 She was a New
York girl。
Well (as the narrative style permits us to say in…
frequently); Pettit went to pieces。 All those pains;
those lover's doubts; those heart…burnings and
tremors of which be had written so unconvincingly
were his。 Talk about Shylock's pound of flesh!
Twenty…five pounds Cupid got from Pettit。 Which
is the usurer?
One night Pettit came to my room exalted。 Pale
and haggard but exalted。 She had given him a
jonquil。
〃Old Hoss;〃 said he; with a new smile flickering
around his mouth; 〃I believe I could write that story
to…night the one; you know; that is to win out。
〃I can feel it。 I don't know whether it will come out
or not; but I can feel it。〃
I pushed him out of my door。 〃Go to your room
and write it;〃 I ordered。 〃Else I can see your fin…
ish。 I told you this must come first。 Write it to…
night and put it under my door when it is done。 Put
it under my door to…night when it is finished
don't keep it until to…morrow。〃
I was reading my bully old pal Montaigne at t