Brother Endicott

Brother EndicottThe man stared at the paper in his typewriter with the bleak look of a rain-soaked spectator at a dull football game, and then ripped it out of the machine. He lit a cigarette, put another sheet of paper in the wringer, and began a letter to his publisher, without salutation: "Why you imbeciles have to have a manuscript three months ahead of publication is, by God ——" And out came that sheet. Somewhere a clock began striking three, but it was drowned out by a sudden ups...