“I have sold a small part of it, a very small part of it, a fifth, and there is a fellow called Thigh—­you know the fellow, he has edited every stupid weekly that has appeared and disappeared for the last ten years—­well, he has got hold of a mug, and by all accounts a real mug, one of the right sort, a Mr. Beacham Brown.  Mr. Brown wants a paper, and has commissioned Thigh to buy him one.  Thigh wants me to sell a half share in the Pilgrim for a thousand, but I shall have to give Thigh back four hundred; and I shall—­that is to say, I shall if I agree to Thigh’s terms—­become assistant editor at a salary of six pounds a week; two pounds a week of which I shall have to hand over to Thigh, who comes in as editor at a salary of ten pounds a week.  All the staff will be engaged on similar conditions.  Thigh is ‘working’ Beacham Brown beautifully—­he won’t have a sixpence to bless himself with when Thigh has done with him.”

“And are you going to accept Thigh’s terms?”

“Not if I can possibly help it.  If your articles send up the circulation and my new advertising agent can do the West End tradesmen for a few more advertisements, I shall stand off and wait for better terms.  My new advertising agent is a wonder, the finest in Christendom.  The other day a Bond Street jeweller who advertises with us came into my office.  He said, ’Sir, I have come to ask you if you circulate thirty thousand copies a week.’  ‘Well,’ I said, ’perhaps not quite.’  ‘Then, sir,’ he replied, ’you will please return me my money; I gave your agent my advertisement upon his implicit assurance that you circulated thirty thousand a week.’  I said there must be some mistake; Mr. Tomlinson happens to be in the office, if you’ll allow me I’ll ask him to step down-stairs.  I touched the bell, and told the boy to ask Mr. Tomlinson to step into the office.  ’Mr. Tomlinson,’ I said, ’Mr. Page says that he gave you his advertisement on our implicit assurance that we circulated thirty thousand copies weekly.  Did you tell him that?’ Quite unabashed, Tomlinson answered, ’I told Mr. Page that we had more than thirty thousand readers a week.  We send to ten line regiments and five cavalry regiments—­each regiment consists of, let us say, eight hundred.  We send to every club in London, and each club has on an average a thousand members.  Why, sir,’ exclaimed Tomlinson, turning angrily on the jeweller, ’I might have said that we had a hundred thousand readers and I should have still been under the mark!’ The jeweller paid for his advertisement and went away crestfallen.  Such a man as Tomlinson is the very bone and muscle of a society journal.”

“And the nerves too,” said Mike.

“Better than the contributors who want to write about the relation between art and morals.”

The young men laughed mightily.

“And what will you do,” said Mike, “if you don’t settle with Thigh?”

“Perhaps my man will be able to pick up another advertisement or two; perhaps your articles may send up the circulation.  One thing is certain, things can’t go on as they are; at this rate I shall not be able to carry the paper on another six months.”