ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON 79
a paper to a magazine. These were returned : and I was
not surprised nor even pained. If they had not been
looked at, as (like all amateurs) I suspected was the
case, there was no good in repeating the experiment;
if they had been looked at—well, then I had not yet
learned to write, and I must keep on learning and living.
Lastly I had a piece of good fortune which is the
occasion of this paper, and by which I was able to see
my literature in print, and to measure experimentally
how far I stood from the favour of the public.
BEGGARS
IN a pleasant, airy, up-hill country, it was my fortune
when I was young to make the acquaintance of a certain
beggar. I call him beggar, though he usually allowed
his coat and his shoes (which were open-mouthed, indeed)
to beg for him. He was the wreck of an athletic man,
tall, gaunt and bronzed; far gone in consumption, with
that disquieting smile of the mortally stricken on his
face; but still active afoot, still with the brisk military
carriage, the ready military salute. Three ways led
through this piece of country ; and as I was inconstant
in my choice, I believe he must often have waited nfe
in vain. But often enough, he caught me; often
enough, from some place of ambush by the roadside, he
would spring suddenly forth in the regulation attitude,
and launching at.once into his inconsequential talk, fall
into step with me upon my farther course. ' A fine
morning, sir, though perhaps a trifle inclining to rain, I
hope I see you well, sir. Why, no, sir, I don't feel as
hearty myself as I could wish, but I am keeping about
my ordinary. I am pleased to meet you on the road, sir.
I assure you I quite look forward to one of our little