the sea-serpent. This sort of thing would have discredited the
Creation, much more a mere sea tale, but as a specimen of the
picture-writing of a half-civilised people it was very interesting.
Zuyland took a heavy column and a half, giving approximate lengths
and breadths, and the whole list of the crew whom he had sworn on
oath to testify to his facts. There was nothing fantastic or
flamboyant in Zuyland. I wrote three-quarters of a leaded bourgeois
column, roughly speaking, and refrained from putting any journalese
into it for reasons that had begun to appear to me.

Keller was insolent with joy. He was going to cable from Southampton
to the New York _World_, mail his account to America on the same day,
paralyse London with his three columns of loosely knitted headlines,
and generally efface the earth. 'You'll see how I work a big scoop
when I get it,' he said.

'Is this your first visit to England?' I asked.

'Yes,' said he. 'You don't seem to appreciate the beauty of our
scoop. It's pyramidal--the death of the sea-serpent! Good heavens
alive, man, it's the biggest thing ever vouchsafed to a paper!'

'Curious to think that it will never appear in any paper, isn't it?
'I said.

Zuyland was near me, and he nodded quickly.

'What do you mean?' said Keller. 'If you're enough of a Britisher to
throw this thing away, I shan't. I thought you were a newspaper-man.'