She spoke slowly. "Will you write," asked the doctor, "and tell me how you are getting along?" "Oh, yes!" "The last advice I can give you is this: excite his imagination; get him started with his writing. CHAPTER VIII. In the obscurity in which it was now seen, it looked like a prison, and, indeed, it was Jonathan's fancy to make it resemble one as much as possible. He added, ‘Also others, but I don’t recall them. She could feel his warm little body trying to snuggle into her, trying to wriggle loose of his swaddling cloth. Blackness was beginning to consume the cornfield. My nerves were in rags. And, if it had not been for a taste for plotting, which was continually getting him into scrapes, he might have been accounted a respectable member of society. He drew compellingly upon his new characters to keep him out of this melancholy channel; but they ebbed and ebbed; he could not hold them.
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