Wessington Springs herald. (Wessington Springs, Aurora County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1891, 1884-08-15

"And you really should cut SWIM
burne," he added, with . meaning
glance at the manuscript.
81 don't know Mr.. Swinburne-that
is, l me him only once, and then he
said something to nj in Greek" ]
replied.
HE might have said something much
worse, butt merely mean you shouldn't
devote so much of your time to his
poetry-the Poems and Ballads for
instance, and the Songs before Sun
rise.'"
elbow do you know 1 do?"
'~Internal evidence" and he touched
my manuscript. "This betrays q severe
course. You must alter your style, Miss
Jones. Time enough for you to come
to the Observation-Disclosures
comprehensive in ten years, say.
You'll be educated up to the point OF
not believing a word of it by that time.
Kindly leave ME your address, and the
manuscript shall be returned in the
usual way"
"No. il Brown street, Bloomsbury,
w. c." 1 replied, my face crimson,
'care of Mrs. Kent"
He wrote it down. and then stood up
to indicate that the interview was over,
bowed formally, and then touched a
little bell. Suddenly a small boy APP
peared. who conducted me down dark,
break-neck stairs, through several
mouldy, dusty labyrinthine passages
and out through a booksellers shop.
l felt more thoroughly small, mean,
miserable and disguised than l had evel
felt in my whole life as l emerged from
the shady by-street containing the office
into the light and hustle Of Piccadilly,
and, as | got into a bus, l vowed never
again to come to a personal encounter
with an editor. Hitherto l had been con-
tent to drop my little contribution mod
estly into the letter-boxes O certain week
ly publications that delights in small sto-
ries, or l would send them By post and
await the result with what patience !
could. Sometimes my stories and verses
were accepted, sometimes not, and l fan
cied that, if an editor knew how exceed
inglyindustrious l was, how very muchin
earnest, how devotedly attached to my
calling-for l had married the Muse OF
Literature for better for worse-there
was nc choice between doing that and
being a governess-he would have a far
better opinion of me and give me an
important permanent position on his
paper Immediately. Then 1 heard so
much about the editor of the arlington,
all the girls at the readiug room OF the
British Museum were continually talk
ing of him; and in an evil hour, armed
with my most elaborate poetical produc-
ton, l made my way to the office and
requested, and strange to say, was
granted (for London editors are difficult
Of access) an interview. The result was
pain, shame, confusion, discontinue
and, worst of all, failure. Heaven and
earth, how l hated that mar as l sat in
the most remote orner of the bus on
my homeward journey-how 1 vowed
to be revenged and let him know some
day whom he had sneered and jeered at!
| would put him in a novel, in q come
dy, in a burlesque. l would caricature
him with pen and pencil; l would be-
come famous merely to spite him, and
refuse-oh the Joy Of that thought!-I
would refuse to write a serial for his
hateful magazine. l believe I became
almost eloquent in my internal denun-
Citations of him; and. as an immediate,
practical, disdainful defiance of him, 1
got out at Oxford street and went into
Nudes for another volume of Swim
burne.
In one way or another the editor of
the arlington was agood deal in my
thoughts during the neNt week, and the
more 1 considered bis conduct the more
| detested him; my cheeks burned and
my ears tingled as l recalled his low,
hooking tones and quiet, annihilating
chances. As for submitting story, essay
or articles to his tender mercies-nevcr!
A fortnight passed, and my manu-
script did not come back. My name was
not Jones; but l really did'livew with Mrs.
Kent, in Brown street; and l told her
all about it; 50 l should have received it
had it been sent. OF course he had
tossed it in q %capacious waste-paper
basket that l had noticed under his
table. and that was the end of it
One day, quite a month after my en-
counter with the autocrat of the 1rling-
ton, Mrs. Kent announced a visitor, a
gentleman, to see me, and in a moment
there entered the editor, more cool,
calm, self-possessed and smiling than
ever.
THE verses have not come back in
quite the usual way" he said, sinking
unaskcd into the only easy chair-I was
at my writing-table, and meant to stay
there. "However, here they are, all
safe, with q few marginal notes. You
do really leave beautifully broad, clear
margins-they are quite tempting! By
the way, why haven't you sent me tina
story?"
81 haven't written it YETI l replied
I longed to add, land | never mean to-
but somehow | could not.
''Well. you must; prose pays best
What other editors have you been in
terviewing lately?"
''None! never want to see another
If all my life"
He leaned back in his chair ant
laughed heartily; then, with mocl
gravity:
"I'm glad to hear that for your
really quite-dangerous. Hy the way
why did you say your name was Jones
You might have known l should tim
you out. Editors do find out everythin;
in time. You are Miss Madeline Mere
49,.