In the morning's mail I received a letter from Berlin asking permission to translate "Gallegher" into German, and a proof of a paragraph from The Critic on my burlesque of Rudyard Kipling, which was meant to please but which bored me.

Then the "Raegen" story came in, making nine pages of the Scribner's, which at ten dollars a page ought to be $90.

Pretty good pay for three weeks' work, and it is a good story.

Then at twelve a young man came bustling into the office, stuck his card down on the desk and said, "I am S.S.McClure.

I have sent my London representative to Berlin and my New York man to London.