The new Northwest. [volume] (Portland, Or.) 1871-1887, 1881-04-21
WINONA SILVER.

work as usual to do, toiling through long man
uscript, and wishing with all my heart that the
distinguished writer had seen fit to use the IA
miliar letters of the alphabet instead of hiero-
glyphics of his own, indistnctly resembling them,
when there came light tap at the door.
"COme," I called rather sharply, for I was
little vexed at being interrupted
The door opened slowly, disclosing a lightly
clad-much too lightly clad for cold January
day, as I at a gance-girlish figure standing
on the threshold.
"Are you the editor-NIr. Gray?" asked a very
"I am" I replied "Come in, pIeasen
The girl entered, closed the door, sat down in
the chair beside my desk, to which l motioned,
and said never word. / could hear her breath
coming quickly, as though she were terribly
frightened, and purposely went on with the un-
raveling of the oriental characters before me to
give her time to recover herself; for | remem-
bered with painful distinctness my own first call
upon an editor knowing intuitively that this
was first CALI, when my heart albeit 1t was
manly one thumped harder than it ever thumped
before or since.
At last I raised my eyes from the paper. My
visitor had thrown back her veil, from which
dripped little drops of water-meted snOw-and
was regarding me with a wistful, beseeching
gaze. In return, l regarded her with of as
tOnishment, for hers the sweetest and most
heart-tOuching face | had ever seen in my life,
and peculiar in its beauty that find il hard to
describe it. Big, pathetic brown eyes, with glnts
of gold in them; long, brOnze-brown lashes, hair of
the palest sunshine, as though moonlight and sun
shine had mingled together; slightly parted, rosy
lips, revealing glimpse of small, white teeth !;
coOrless but prettily rounded cheeks; and over
all that indescrbable charm of innocence that is
TO youthful beauty, to use old and well-worn
SMILES, as the bloom to the peach and the fra
GRANGE TO the rose.
"What can / do for you ~ l asked, speaking
gently enough this time.
'I-have-a-story," stammered the poor little
thing, (which 1 thought you might-It's my
first-and if you only would"
II will look over it with pleasure" I said rs
she paused, apparently unable, from sheer nerv
business to 90 on Leave il with me- and /
promise to give it my earliest attention"
AS she handed me the roll of paper she
wore no gloves, and her hands were red with
cold; but l also saw they were as exceptionally
pretty as her face with SLENDER taper-fngers, and
pink, she-like nails.
at is not written on very nice paper" she said,
rising, as / took the manuscript from her. II
had nothing but scraps of old letters and backs of
circulars and bills; but" with gleam Of modest
pride and glance at the hieroglyphics, 81 write
very plainly, and it will not take you long to
read it. And when may / call for answer?n
'TO-mOrrOw," said /, without moments hesi-
tatiOn, though l knew / ought TO devote all the
time could spare from my other duties for weeks
70 the very lengthy contribution of the distin-
guished author.
"Thank YOU" and she fitted away as noise
lessly as she had entered.
But for the life of me I could not forget her.
Wherever my gaze fell, there beheld those great
pathetic eyes that faint golden hair, those pretty,
curved, trembling lips "And she was cold.
that thin shawl while I, great, strong fellow
docking at my heavy OvercOat hanging OH the
opposite WALL "Pshaw you may stay there to-
night And actually went home without il, as
though that would make the poor little girl any
warmer, and caught a severe cold in consequence,
as / might have known / would.
After this ebullitiOn began the story and read
ii through. 1t written painly-that could
not be denied; in fact, in the way of chrOgTaDhy
il was all that could be desired; and there were
some CLEANS of poetic nature; but the plot was
so highly romantic and visionary, and the whole
thing evidently the work of one who had not
yet even mastered the primer Of authorship, that
it was impossible TO give it place in the publica-
tiOn of which was junior editor. But never did
the necessity Of saying mo - so distress me be-
fore, not even when Alveretta Strawhorn, since
known as the author of "A Riddle Solved by a
Cimeter told me that, in spite Of my rejection Of
her nOvelettes, "the laurel wreath of fame would
encircle her brow when I was still groveling, the
Obscurest of the obscure"
slept but little that night thinking Of it..
Something told me it would almost break the
girls heart. Should / accept il, pay for il my
self, and then cOnsign it to the waste-basket ,
No, that would not do, for she would be anx-
iously watching for its appearance in print and
bring stories smeanwhilefOrmy consideration.
What could do? Morning found me undecided
When took my place at my desk, was still
undecided And had reached no decision when.
in answer to that gentle knock, for which / had
waited / believe no editor ever waited fOI
wOuld-be contributors knock before / again
called, "Come - She came in, and, sinking into
the visitors chair, raised her eyes in mute in
ouiry to my face. ] searched my brain for some
harmless falsehoOd with which to soften the blow
but those eyes compelled the truth.
II have carefully read your story" ! said
sand am sorry To say it would not suit our paper
The little hands went up to the face; the vel
dropped over them. / heard stihed sigh, AM
my heart began to ache.
tsBut there is no reason, Miss Silver" / con
tinued with assumed cheerfulness, that, with
few alterations it should not suit some other.
you will leave it with me, VIII take IL nome 70
night revise il, and you try again"
The veil was tossed aside, and down came tn
hands.
HOh / am so TidculOusly afraid of stranger
and strange places - she said wan little smil