Chapter L: E. W. came into our kennel yesterday morning and saw lying on our

desk a newly published detective novel that a publisher had sent us. “Oh,” he said, “What’s this?” and began looking it over. We were rather busy at the moment, and paid no particular heed, but looked up a minute later to see him slipping out of our hutch with the book under his arm.

“Here!” we cried, “what are you doing with that book?”

“I’m going to read it,” he said, with bland composure.

“Nothing doing,” we asserted sternly. “We began to read that in the subway this morning, and we’re just getting interested in it. You’ll have to wait until we’ve finished it.”

“But you can’t read it in the office,” he said; “you’re too busy.”

“So are you,” we replied; “but we’re going to read it to-night; after an exhausting day we shall need an innocent diversion of that sort.”

We did not think of it at the time, but we now remember that there was a curious evasive lustre in his eye. We wish we could make it plain to you how this person, generally a highly cultivated and responsible citizen, occasionally exhibits himself as naïvely unscrupulous, in a way so charming and unashamed that, with lesser men than ourself, he successfully gets away with it.

A little later in the day, again comes L. E. W. into our nook. He looks about in an absent-minded way, giving much the appearance of the _animula vagula blandula_ the Roman emperor told about. He made one or two random remarks, and seemed to be pretending that he had intended to say something important but had forgotten what it was. We may say that we penetrated his game immediately. We kept an eye on him, and as soon as he had retired we took the detective story and put several newspapers on top of it.

But after all, one cannot sit around the office all day watching the book one is saving for evening reading. By and by we had to go out to lunch, and thought no more of the matter until 5 o’clock. Then, hastily gathering our effects for the trek uptown, we looked for the novel. It was gone.

We could not quite believe it, at first. We thought we must have mislaid it somewhere on top of our desk. We rummaged briskly. No sign of it. With a sudden vile suspicion we ran to L. E. W.’s room. He was gone, too.

Well, we had to console ourself on the ride uptown by reading something else; but you know how it is--when you have set your heart on finishing a particular story....

This morning L. E. W. has just come into our coop, with his usual enigmatic smile, and laid the book before us. We assailed him with bitter reproach and contumely. But we made no impression on him. There is some mysterious knot of villainy in his bosom that leads him to believe that any detective story left within his reach.... Of course it is true that writing Leading Editorials for a number of years may well undermine a man’s character. But that is what we mean when we say that even men of unblemished intellect and lofty, serene understanding have always some particular point of frailty at which morals, virtue, and integrity collapse in a dark confusion of spiritual wreckage.

We haven’t mentioned the title of the book, because L. E. W. says it isn’t much good. But we are not certain whether that is not just his quaint way of trying to minify the gruesomeness of his offence. It is a perverted form of conscience: he thinks that if he tells us the book is punk we will not regret that our reading was brutally postponed. But we are going to tell him that he missed a trick there. It would have been much more in line with the delightful humour for which he is famous if he had said: “It’s a great yarn. You ought to read it.”

OUR EXTENSION COURSE

This has been a pleasantly serene quiet morning in the office, and we have been sitting here tenderly educating ourself by studying the catalogue of University Extension Courses given at Columbia. We may not have admitted it before, but we are rather ambitious, and find a great deal in this fasciculus that appeals to our necessities.

Among the courses we should like to enroll in, first we come to _Business e163--Personnel methods for office executives_ (Fee $24). This would be highly advantageous to us, to teach us how to get along tactfully with office boys, proof-readers, leading editorial writers, and sudden, unexpected telephone calls. We look somewhat wistfully upon _Business e13--Advertising Display and Mechanics, and Business e17--Salesmanship_. (“The student is given a grounding in the principles of selling and practice in the presentation of a selling proposition from its inception in the customer’s mind throughout its development and final consummation as a sale.”) But the course for us, austerely denying ourself the lectures on _Advanced Advertising Writing_, is _Business e19-20--Sales promotion_ (Fee $24). This “includes a thorough study of merchandising, direction of a sales force, methods of breaking down sales resistance.” It specializes in “dealer helps” and regards “consumer advertising” as only secondary. We agree.

The Graduate Courses in Psychology of Advertising and Selling we feel are probably too advanced for us.

So we pass eagerly on to literary topics. _English elf-2f_ has an agreeably elvish sound--_Advanced short story writing_; but it’s a bit expensive (Fee $48. We might not get that much for the story after we had written it.). _Juvenile story writing_ is only $32; but we elect _English e3f-4f--Play Production_. The fee for that is only $24, which shows you how much money a lot of theatrical managers waste; moreover, it is held in the Attic of Hamilton Hall, which sounds very jolly. The Attic playwrights were always pretty good. And certainly we must have _English e11-12--Public speaking_, which is only $16, and gives us “drill in breathing, articulation, gesture and reading aloud, after-dinner speaking; how to stir the emotions and move to action.” Philosophy, of course, must not be neglected: we rather like the look of _Philosophy e135--Radical, conservative, and reactionary tendencies in present-day morals_, which seems to cover the ground. (Fee $24.) _Photoplay composition e3--Advanced course_ “deals with the finer phases of character delineation” (Fee $24) and ought to be a pleasant relaxation, for “Scenario editors and directors will address the students from time to time.” _Physical education eY1-Y2--Swimming_ ($16) will very happily conclude that part of our course.

A great need in our life would obviously be filled by _Secretarial Correspondence e2--Letter writing_ (Fee $24). This studies the methods adopted by “Huxley, Lanier, Lowell, Henry James, William James, Mark Twain, Cicero, Pliny the Younger, and the letter writers of the World War” in dealing with their correspondence. But we are anxious to get on to even more congenial subjects. _Cookery e3L--General Principles of cookery and their application. Lectures and laboratory work_ (Fee $30) appeals to us. Also _Cookery 41xL--Principles of candy making_ ($10) and _Cookery e75L--Large quantity cookery_ (Fee $30). The only difficulty here is that the costume required for laboratory courses in cooking is “white cotton clothing, plain skirt; tailored waist; plain white collar; long plain white apron with bib.” That presents difficulties.

We thought that we had outlined a very full curriculum for ourself, but then we see that our old friend Professor Roger Loomis is giving a course (_English eB10_) on _Argumentative writing_, “planned especially for those interested in the writing of editorials and controversial articles.” That certainly we must also have (Fee $24).

The total seems to be $270, and certainly the excitement sounds well worth it.

SOME RECIPES