I spun many yarns; among others the tale of Jim Wolf and the Cats.

Learning that he had done something in a small way in literature, I offered to try to find a market for him in that line.

His face lighted joyfully at that, and he said that if I could only sell a small manuscript to Tom Hood's Annual for him it would be the happiest event of his sad life and he would hold me in grateful remembrance always.

That was a most pleasant night for three of us, but Dolby was disgusted and sarcastic.
Next week the baby died.

Meantime I had spoken to Tom Hood and gained his sympathy.