"Sold!" burst forth Uncle Jack. "Sold,--no, sir, we would not sell it!
No; if all the booksellers fell down on their knees to us, as they will
some day, that book should not be sold! Sir, that book is a revolution;
it is an era; it is the emancipator of genius from mercenary thraldom,--
That Book!"

I looked inquiringly from uncle to father, and mentally retracted my
congratulations. Then Mr. Caxton, slightly blushing, and shyly rubbing
his spectacles, said, "You see, Pisistratus, that though poor Jack has
devoted uncommon pains to induce the publishers to recognize the merit
he has discovered in the 'History of Human Error,' he has failed to do
so."

"Not a bit of it; they all acknowledge its miraculous learning, its--"

"Very true; but they don't think it will sell, and therefore most
selfishly refuse to buy it. One bookseller, indeed, offered to treat
for it if I would leave out all about the Hottentots and Caffres, the
Greek philosophers and Egyptian priests, and confining myself solely to
polite society, entitle the work 'Anecdotes of the Courts of Europe,
Ancient and Modern.'"

"The--wretch!" groaned Uncle Jack.

"Another thought it might be cut up into little essays, leaving out the
quotations, entitled 'Men and Manners.' A third was kind enough to
observe that though this kind of work was quite unsalable, yet, as I
appeared to have some historical information, he should be happy to
undertake an historical romance from my graphic pen,'--that was the