Roused by this diabolical contrivance, we rose early,
went forth early to breakfast, and returned by nine to
what Pinkerton called work, and I distraction. Masses
of letters must be opened, read, and answered; some by
me at a subsidiary desk which had been introduced on
the morning of my arrival; others by my bright-eyed
friend, pacing the room like a caged lion as he
dictated to the tinkling type-writers. Masses of wet
proof had to be overhauled and scrawled upon with a
blue pencil--"rustic"; "six-inch caps"; "bold spacing
here"; or sometimes terms more fervid--as, for
instance, this (which I remember Pinkerton to have
spirted on the margin of an advertisement of Soothing
Syrup), "Throw this all down. Have you never printed
an advertisement? I'll be round in half-an-hour." The
ledger and sale-book, besides, we had always with us.
Such was the backbone of our occupation, and tolerable
enough; but the far greater proportion of our time was
consumed by visitors--whole-souled, grand fellows no
doubt, and as sharp as a needle, but to me
unfortunately not diverting.
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