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 a whole
lot more. I can't remember them all just now. But, a man has got to be
something before he gets a street named after him. Some of the old
members of these families were not so rich as their descendants are
today. There were no millionaires in my time in New York."

CHAPTER II.
THE REPORTER MEETS THE LEADER OF THE FOUR HUNDRED

The Sociable Ghost and the newspaper man continued their walk though the
ghost still limped painfully. The reporter tried to bring himself to
offer his arm for the ghost to lean upon, but somehow he could not seem
to care to get too close to the living skeleton as he mentally
considered him. Still he would not willingly have dispensed with his
company. Finally the ghost took up the conversation where he had left it
off.

"I was not born then, let alone being dead, but I have often conversed
with the founders of this mother of churches in this country, and also
the founders of those first families at our reunions. You just ought to
hear them go on about the extravagance of their descendants. They say
that when they were taking up subscriptions for building the new
steeple, Joseph Aspinwall gave one pound six, and Oliver Schuyler put
down one pound; Mrs. Coddington gave two pounds, while Gilbert
Livingstone gave five shillings and six pence. Philip Schuyler donated
six shillings, Mrs. Hamilton gave two pounds fifteen shillings, and Rip
Van Dam, one pound six shillings, and so on no one giving much, if any
more than two pounds. This was while John Cruger was vestryman with
Isaac Decker and Josephus Bayard as co-laborers. I notice that the women
were more generous then as now to church matters and needs, and it has
always been a question with me why this is so. Now, is it because as a
general rule the women did not have to work for the money as the
husbands did, and so they did not appreciate its value, or is it because
the women are by nature more generous and more religious than men? I
heard somewhere once that it was said that it is the women who sustain
the churches. Well, I don't care, Wow! That toe twinges!"

All this did not interest the young reporter as much as the ghost seemed
to think it should, but politeness forbade him to make any sign. His
appetite was whetted for what was to come and he did not wish to destroy
his chances. He had a vague idea that he had read something like this in
the archives of this old and honored church, while preparing a
description of the three hundredth anniversary, but as he saw that the
ghost liked to enlighten his ignorance he wisely kept silence. At this
moment the ghost said:

"Come on, it will soon be time now. But before we go take one look at
the headstone erected to the memory of William Bradford. He was the
first Government printer and spent fifty years in the service, and left
this world worn out with old age and labor. He printed the first Bible
in this country, and his old press is kept as a memorial.

"He was a decent, simple, hardworking chap, and used all his strength in
his work. And, he didn't get rich either. Well; maybe you have seen
instances of the truly good getting the fool good to sign away their
lives for the benefit of the truly good. I put this matter in a mild
form, for I am apt to get hot under the collar when I think of how many
of the fool-good fellows are bound down to a life of underpaid toil to
give others the benefit of it all."

Here the ghost paused impressively, and the reporter bowed seriously as
though fully agreeing with him. In fact he did fully agree with the
ghost completely, for he knew something of the matter himself in a small
way. The ghost resumed:

"When I say the truly good, I mean those who are so very good that the
fool-good are blinded by their reputation and so toil for them for next
to nothing. I tell you, publishers have no pudding down here, and the
religious ones seem to be singled out for special punishment. One man is
here tonight who used to run a religious paper. All he paid his writers
was one dollar a column, and however hard they tried they couldn't earn
over six or seven dollars a week. He made contracts with the poor
fellows to write for him alone, so they could not help themselves when
he cut down the number of columns. One of these unfortunate men wrote a
book while this contract was in force and it made quite a success and
blow me! if the religious chap did not go and claim the book, too. How
it would have turned out I do not know for the publisher died. I'll show
him to you when we go down, that is if you would care to see him."

"You bet I would!" said the reporter with sudden warmth. Whereupon the
ghost said in a manner to calm his just anger:

"I don't think they are all so bad. But one thing I have noticed and
that is that all the publishers have money, and all the things that
money brings, while the great majority of the writers are poor, some of
them miserably so. All the religious publishers and editors are down
here and rather flock together. They seem to enjoy talking over the
tricks of trade. I used to think that I was something of a pirate, too,
in my way, and therefore their conversations interested me more
probably, than they might otherwise have done. If you were to hear them
talk together you would think much less of them than you do now."

"I couldn't!" answered the young man, with emphasis and conviction.

"I will show you another thing tonight that ought to please you if you
take any special interest in publishers, and that is what is done with
those publishers who make the writers wait for their money until their
stories are published. It would be a balm for the hearts of the authors,
and I wish you would let the writers know about it. It may be a poor
satisfaction for those who die before their stories are published. It
has always been a satisfaction to me to whale the fellow that tries to
cheat me out of my own, and if I can't whale him to see someone else do
it and do it up brown."

"They tell us that we must speak no evil of the dead," said the young
man tritely.

"These dead don't wait for anyone to tell what they have done, They
think it is all right. What they have to suffer in seeing the papers, or
the books they used to work on and about done so much better than they
could do while alive! The policies of the whole thing are changed in
many cases and that is very bitter. Well, with one last word on this
subject I will let them alone. It seems to me that when a man writes a
book or a story and offers it for sale, he has the same right to offer
it as an artist his picture, or a cabinet-maker to offer his wares, and
I can't see why the author should have to wait for his pay any more than
the others. If it suits the publisher enough to cause him to buy it the
buyer should pay for it. I have heard men tell here how they had had
stories accepted for publication and kept there year after year, and
then they died before they were published. And, as soon as they did die
the publishers used them at once and paid

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