JAN 14 1922 
MOSES CLYMER’S BUSINESS. 
89 . 
ence upon our own exertions,” was the re- 
joinder. “We receive no salary for our 
work, But a given percentage on the arti- 
cles which are published. If I decide fa- 
vorably on a poem, and that poem is thrown 
out by the editor to whom Moses carries it, 
then the sum which was originally advanced 
to the author is deducted from my percent- 
age.” 
“ In other words,” said 1, “ Clymer is will- 
ing to share the profits but not tho losses 
of his business.” 
“ It amounts to about that, and yet Pe- 
ters and I are well paid for our work. You 
see, we are able to select from a varied as- 
sortment, and to get the kind of matter 
which is suited to a particular publication. 
It rarely happens that we make a mistake.” 
“ Or that you advance money on verses 
taken from a book,” observed Barry, with a 
smile. 
“The case which Moses has laid before 
you is the only one of that nature which 
ever occurred. Sometimes we have had stol- 
en articles brought to us — all pawnbrokers’ 
shops must expect that — but we have in- 
variably detected the theft. The plagia- 
risms are usually glaringly apparent. Some 
months ago, I remember, a chap presented 
Byron’s ‘ Maid of Athens,’ and wanted two 
dollars on it.” 
Crampton was interrupted at this point 
by a thumping on the partition wall, while 
a voice from the adjoining compartment 
said, 
“ I want a two-syllabled word that is syn- 
onymous with ‘endeavor.’ ” 
“‘Attempt,’” rejoined Crampton, after a 
moment’s reflection. Then, addressing us, 
he added, “That is Peters. Suppose we 
step in and see him.” 
We found Mr. Peters hard at work polish- 
ing a poem. He was a younger man than 
his associate, with a prominent nose, which 
his biographer would probably call Roman, 
and with the hair and shirt front of a gen- 
ius. By way of illustrating the nature of 
his work, he read us some verses, first as 
they had been received by Moses, and aft- 
erward as they came out of the polishing 
process. Before we left the room, I ob- 
tained permission to make a copy of these 
stanzas in both forms, which I have pre- 
served up to the present time. While the 
lines possess little of poetic merit, I may 
nevertheless be pardoned for presenting 
them here as illustrative of Mr. Peters’s 
manner of work. 
In the original form they read as fol- 
lows : 
SHERRY WINE. 
I will drink this amher-hued, 
Ripe, and rare old sherry 
To the maiden whom I loved — 
Fair was she and merry — 
Loved and wooed so long ago: 
When it was I scarce may know. 
I will drink to those old times 
When to breathe was pleasure ; 
When my heart, like sweetest rhyme, 
Beat to Love’s own measure; 
When the dreams of youth were mine, 
Amber-hued, like this wine. 
From the goblet I will drain 
Time’s forgotten flavor, 
Taste those happy days again, 
Sweetened by Love’s own favor — 
Days when through Love’s magic bauds 
Life ran all in golden sands. 
What if love be at an end, 
Life no longer merry, 
Still I'll drink and drink again, 
In this rare old sherry, 
To the girl I loved and wooed 
When the world was amber-hued 1 
Polished by Peters, the verses read thus : 
A AON G. 
I will drink this amber-hued, 
Aromatic sherry 
To the girl I loved and wooed — 
Modest maiden merry — 
Loved and wooed so long ago : 
When it was I scarce may know. 
I will drink to those old times 
When to breathe was pleasure; 
When my pulse, in rhythmic rhymes, 
Beat to Love’s own measure; 
When the dreams of youth were mine, 
Amber-hued like sherry wine. 
From the goblet I will drain 
Time’s forgotten flavor; 
Taste those golden days again, 
Sweetened by Love’s favor, 
While I feel the draught divine 
Warming all my blood like wine. 
What if love be at an end, 
Life no longer merry, 
Here’s a true and trusty friend, 
Aromatic sherry; 
Truer than my love, I know, 
Many, many years ago ! 
“ You will observe,” said Peters, when he 
had finished reading the verses, “ that there 
is substantially little change in the second 
copy of the poem. One or two imper- 
fect rhymes are corrected — as, for example, 
‘times’ and ‘rhyme’ in the second stanza — 
and some redundant syllables are dispensed 
with to preserve the metre. In the main, 
however, the verses are alike. That couplet, 
‘Days when through Love’s magic hands 
Life ran all in golden sands,’ 
smacks a little too strongly of Tennyson to 
pass muster. I have therefore thrown it 
out, although I can not say the substitu- 
tion is an improvement.” 
“ Your work must be very laborious, Mr. 
Peters,” suggested Barry. 
“It is what I may term ‘headachey,’ ” 
was the rejoinder. “Still, I get along tol- 
erably well, and do not feel justified in 
swearing except when a parody on Poe’s 
‘Raven’ turns up, or a new version of ‘The 
Bridge of Sighs.’ ” 
Before Barry and I made an end of our 
visit, we passed around behind the counter, 
whore Moses was engaged in assorting the 
numerous packages of manuscripts. 
