Stevenson had begun the matter with this question: "Can you name the American author whose fame and acceptance stretch widest in the States ?" I thought I could, but it did not seem to me that it would be modest to speak out, in the circumstances.

So I diffidently said nothing.
Stevenson noticed, and said-- "Save your delicacy for another time--you are not the one.

For a shilling you can't name the American author of widest note and popularity in the States.

But I can." Then he went on and told about that Albany incident.

He had inquired of the shopman-- "Who is this Davis ?" The answer was-- "An author whose books have to have freight-trains to carry them, not baskets.