This fell a little below my own roughly-made estimate, and settled my determinations.  Two thousand copies, at two dollars a copy, which was to be the subscription price, would pay all the expenses, and if the number of subscribers rose to three thousand, of which there was not the shadow of a doubt in my mind, I would have a clear profit of $2000 the first year.  And should it go to four thousand, as was most probable, my net income would be about $3400, for all increase would simply be chargeable with cost of paper and press-work—­or about sixty cents on a subscriber.  After the first year, of course there would be a steady increase in the number of subscribers, which, if at the rate of only a thousand a year, would give me in five years the handsome annual income of $9000.  I was rich in prospective!  Nothing could now hold me back.  I ordered the printer to get ready his cases, and the paper-maker to provide, by a certain time, the paper.

As the terms were to be in advance, or rather the whole year payable at the expiration of the first quarter, I promised to begin paying cash for all contracts at the end of the first quarter.  Up to this period of my life, I had gone on the strict principle of owing no man any thing, and I was known in the community where I lived to be a strictly honest and honourable man.  Never having strained my credit, it was tight and strong, and I had but to ask the three months’ favour to get it without a sign of reluctance.

Next I issued my prospectus for the “Literary Gazette and Weekly Reflex of Art, Literature, and Science, a Newspaper devoted to, &c. &c.,” and scattered copies among my friends, expecting each to do his duty for me like a man.  They were also posted in every book-store, hotel, and public place in the city.  Said city, be it known, rejoiced in a population of a hundred thousand souls, of which number I saw no reason for doubting my ability to reach, with my interesting paper, at least three or four thousand, in the end.  That was felt to be a very moderate calculation indeed.  Then, when I turned my eyes over our vast country, with its millions and millions of intelligent, enlightened, reading and prosperous people, I felt that even to admit a doubt of success was a weakness for which I ought to be ashamed.  And I wondered why, with such a harvest to reap, twenty such enterprises to one were not started.

While in this sanguine state, an individual who had been for thirty years a publisher and editor, prompted, as he said, by a sincere interest in my welfare, called to see me in order to give me the benefit of his experience.  He asked me to state my views of the enterprise upon which I was about entering, which I did in glowing terms.

“Very well, Mr. Jones,” said he, after I was done, “you base your calculations on three thousand subscribers?”

“I do,” was my answer.

“From which number you expect to receive six thousand dollars.”