Oh please, don’t trouble yourself on my account.

ADELAIDE.

Can we help you with anything else?

SCHMOCK.

What should you be able to help me with? [Examining his boots and clothes.] I have everything in order now.  My trouble is only that I have got into the wrong occupation.  I must try to get out of literature.

ADELAIDE (sympathetically.)

It is very hard, I suppose, to feel at home in literature?

SCHMOCK.

That depends.  My editor is an unfair man.  He cuts out too much and pays too little.  “Attend to your style first of all,” says he; “a good style is the chief thing.”  “Write impressively, Schmock,” says he; “write profoundly; it is required of a newspaper today that it be profound.”  Good!  I write profoundly, I make my style logical!  But when I bring him what I have done he hurls it away from him and shrieks:  “What is that?  That is heavy, that is pedantic!” says he.  “You must write dashingly; it’s brilliant you must be, Schmock.  It is now the fashion to make everything pleasant for the reader.”  What am I to do?  I write dashingly again; I put a great deal of brilliant stuff in the article; and when I bring it he takes his red pencil and strikes out all that is commonplace and leaves me only the brilliant stuff remaining.

COLONEL.

Are such things possible?

SCHMOCK.

How can I exist under such treatment?  How can I write him only brilliant stuff at less than a penny a line.  I can’t exist under it!  And that is why I’m going to try to get out of the business.  If only I could earn twenty-five to thirty dollars, I would never in my life write again for a newspaper; I would then set up for myself in business—­a little business that could support me.

ADELAIDE.

Wait a moment! [Looks into her purse.]

COLONEL (hastily coming forward).

Leave that to me, dear Adelaide.  The young man wants to cease being a journalist.  That appeals to me.  Here, here is money such as you desire if you will promise me from this day on not to touch a pen again for a newspaper.  Here, take it.

SCHMOCK.

A Prussian bank note—­twenty-five thalers in currency?  On my honor, I promise you, on my honor and salvation, I go this very day to a cousin of mine who has a paying business.  Would you like an I.O.U., Colonel, or shall I make out a long-term promissory note?

COLONEL.

Get out with your promissory note!

SCHMOCK.

Then I will write out a regular I.O.U.  I prefer it to be only an
I.O.U.

COLONEL (impatiently).

I don’t want your I.O.U. either.  Sir, for God’s sake get out of the house!

SCHMOCK.

And how about the interest?  If I can have it at five per cent.  I should like it.

ADELAIDE.

The gentleman makes you a present of the money.