Apology: The Mozart "Little Journey" was written, and as over a month
had been taken to do the task, the result was something of which I was
justly proud. It was quite unlike anything ever before written. The
printers were ready to take the work in hand, but I begged them to allow
me two more days for careful revision; and as I was just starting away
to give a lecture at Janesville, Wisconsin, I took the manuscript with
me, intending to do the final work of revision on the train.
All went well on the journey, the lecture had been given with no special
tokens of disapproval on part of the audience, and I was on board the
early morning train that leaves for Chicago. And as my mind is usually
fairly clear in the early hours, I began work retouching the good
manuscript. We were nearing Beloit when I bethought me to go into the
Buffet-Car for a moment.
When I returned the manuscript was not to be seen. I looked in various
seats, and under the seats, asked my neighbors, inquired of the
brakeman, and then hunted up the porter and asked him if he had seen my
manuscript. He did not at first understand what I meant by the term
"manuscript," but finally inquired if I referred to a pile of dirty,
dog-eared sheets of paper, all marked up and down and over and
crisscross, ev'ry-which-way.