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said, I haven’t sent out a line since I’ve been here—haven’t earned a cent; just lived on nerve and persimmons.
Hope you’ll get your project through all right, and make a million. With the same old fraternal and nocturnal regards, I remain,
Yours as usual,
S. P.
His ill health kept him from writing either much or regularly, and consequently he was often temporarily out of money in spite of the fact that his stories were in great demand. To the same editor to whom he wrote of his health at another time he sent this typical letter concerning finances.
The Caledonia.
My Dear Colonel Griffith:
If you’ve got $100 right in your desk drawer you can have my next story, which will be ready next Tuesday at the latest. That will pay half. The other half on delivery.
I’m always wanting money, and I have to have a century this morning.
I just wanted to give you a chance at the story at summer rates, if you want it.
Please give the bearer a positive answer, as I’ll have to know at once so as to place it elsewhere this forenoon.
Yours very truly,
Sydney Porter.
P.S.—Story guaranteed satisfactory or another supplied.
This letter was written when his stories were in great demand, when he could sell many more than he could write, and sell them at higher prices than this letter indicates. Not ten years before that, however, he was unknown to the magazine field of literature.
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