Two Interruptions.
Edwyn Longhair was a poet. At least, he had published several volumes in which the lines of type were ragged.
One day, just as Edwyn was feeling around for an idea, Barton Boresome called upon him. The next day Edwyn described the event to his wide-awake friend, Billy Brighteyes, who also was a poet.
"He stayed a full hour, Billy," Edwyn raged, "and after he went I was so upset I couldn't write a line, not a line. Boresome spoiled the whole day for me. Such fellows ought to be shut up under lock and key."
"Why," said Billy, "Boresome called on me, too, and he stayed an hour and a half."
"And spoiled another day? What a beast!"
"No, I didn't let him spoil my day. While he was droning away I conceived the idea of a comic poem that hit off the occasion to a T. I wrote it out as soon as he left, took it around to the editor of The Bumble Bee, and sold it on the spot. That call of Boresome's brought me ten dollars."