Digital heart book

By an early hour of the numbered evening I might have
been observed at the sign of "The Poodle Dog" dining
with my agent--so Pinkerton delighted to describe
himself. Thence, like an ox to the slaughter, he led
me to the hall, where I stood presently alone,
confronting assembled San Francisco, with no better
allies than a table, a glass of water, and a mass of
manuscript and typework, representing Harry Miller and
myself I read the lecture; for I had lacked both time
and will to get the trash by heart--read it hurriedly,
humbly, and with visible shame. Now and then I would
catch in the auditorium an eye of some intelligence,
now and then in the manuscript would stumble on a
richer vein of Harry Miller, and my heart would fail
me, and I gabbled. The audience yawned, it stirred
uneasily, it muttered, grumbled, and broke forth at
last in articulate cries of "Speak up!" and "Nobody can
hear!" I took to skipping, and, being extremely ill-
acquainted with the country, almost invariably cut in
again in the unintelligible midst of some new topic.


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