The Literary Life of Thingum Bob, Esq.

Look at me !⁠—how I labored⁠—how I toiled⁠—how I wrote! Ye Gods, did I not write? I knew not the word “ease.” By day I adhered to my desk, and at night, a pale student, I consumed the midnight oil. You should have seen me⁠—you should . I leaned to the right. I leaned to the left. I sat forward. I sat backward. I sat upon end. I sat tete baissée (as they have it in the Kickapoo), bowing my head close to the alabaster page. And, through all, I⁠— wrote . Through joy and through sorrow, I⁠— wrote . Through hunger and through thirst, I⁠— wrote . Through good report and through ill report, I⁠— wrote . Through sunshine and through moonshine, I⁠— wrote. What I wrote it is unnecessary to say. The style !⁠—that was the thing. I caught it from Fatquack⁠—whizz!⁠—fizz!⁠—and I am giving you a specimen of it now.