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where I got into jail and served a term for vagrancy； and the whole
tramping experience made me become a Socialist。 Previously I had
been impressed by the dignity of labour； and； without having read
Carlyle or Kipling； I had formulated a gospel of work which put theirs in
the shade。 Work was everything。 It was sanctification and salvation。
The pride I took in a hard day's work well done would be inconceivable
to you。 I was as faithful a wage…slave as ever a capitalist exploited。
In short； my joyous individualism was dominated by the orthodox
bourgeois ethics。 I had fought my way from the open west； where men
bucked big and the job hunted the man； to the congested labour centres
of the eastern states； where men were small potatoes and hunted the job
for all they were worth； and I found myself looking upon life from a new
and totally different angle。 I saw the workers in the shambles at the
bottom of the Social Pit。 I swore I would never again do a hard day's
work with my body except where absolutely compelled to； and I have
been busy ever since running away from hard bodily labour。
In my nineteenth year I returned to Oakland and started at the High
School； which ran the usual school magazine。 This publication was a
weeklyno； I guess a monthlyone； and I wrote stories for it； very little
imaginary； just recitals of my sea and tramping experiences。 I remained
there a year； doing janitor work as a means of livelihood； and leaving
eventually because the strain was more than I could bear。 At this time
my socialistic utterances had attracted considerable attention； and I was
known as the 〃Boy Socialist；〃 a distinction that brought about my arrest
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for street…talking。 After leaving the High School； in three months
cramming by myself； I took the three years' work for that time and
entered the University of California。 I hated to give up the hope of a
University education and worked in a laundry and with my pen to help
me keep on。 This was the only time I worked because I loved it； but
the task was too much； and when half…way through my Freshman year I
had to quit。
I worked away ironing shirts and other things in the laundry； and
wrote in all my spare time。 I tried to keep on at both； but often fell
asleep with the pen in my hand。 Then I left the laundry and wrote all
the time； and lived and dreamed again。 After three months' trial I gave
up writing； having decided that I was a failure； and left for the Klondike
to prospect for gold。 At the end of the year； owing to the outbreak of
scurvy； I was compelled to come out； and on the homeward journey of
1；900 miles in an open boat made the only notes of the trip。 It was in
the Klondike I found myself。 There nobody talks。 Everybody thinks。
You get your true perspective。 I got mine。
While I was in the Klondike my father died； and the burden of the
family fell on my shoulders。 Times were bad in California； and I could
get no work。 While trying for it I wrote 〃Down the River；〃 which was
rejected。 During the wait for this rejection I wrote a twenty…thousand
word serial for a news company； which was also rejected。 Pending
each rejection I still kept on writing fresh stuff。 I did not know what an
editor looked like。 I did not know a soul who had ever published
anything。 Finally a story was accepted by a Californian magazine； for
which I received five dollars。 Soon afterwards 〃The Black Cat〃 offered
me forty dollars for a story。
Then things took a turn； and I shall probably not have to shovel coal
for a living for some time to come； although I have done it； and could do
it again。
My first book was published in 1900。 I could have made a good deal
at newspaper work； but I had sufficient sense to refuse to be a slave to
that man…killing machine； for such I held a newspaper to be to a young
man in his forming period。 Not until I was well on my feet as a
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magazine…writer did I do much work for newspapers。 I am a believer
in regular work； and never wait for an inspiration。 Temperamentally I
am not only careless and irregular； but melancholy； still I have fought
both down。 The discipline I had as a sailor had full effect on me。
Perhaps my old sea days are also responsible for the regularity and
limitations of my sleep。 Five and a half hours is the precise average I
allow myself； and no circumstance has yet arisen in my life that could
keep me awake when the time comes to 〃turn in。〃
I am very fond of sport； and delight in boxing； fencing； swimming；
riding； yachting； and even kite…flying。 Although primarily of the city； I
like to be near it rather than in it。 The country； though； is the best； the
only natural life。 In my grown…up years the writers who have
influenced me most are Karl Marx in a particular； and Spencer in a
general； way。 In the days of my barren boyhood； if I had had a chance；
I would have gone in for music； now； in what are more genuinely the
days of my youth； if I had a million or two I would devote myself to
writing poetry and pamphlets。 I think the best work I have done is in
the 〃League of the Old Men；〃 and parts of 〃The Kempton…Wace Letters。〃
Other people don't like the former。 They prefer brighter and more
cheerful things。 Perhaps I shall feel like that； too； when the days of my
youth are behind me。
Foo