The Caldwell tribune. [volume] (Caldwell, Idaho Territory [Idaho]) 1883-1928, 1884-08-30
MY FIRST EDITOR.

sits the natural result of sever,
course of Swinburne!"
/ snatched up my manuscript anC
was leaving the room, flushed will
shame, trembling with rage and indig
nation, when the editor's voice ar
rested my attention. l turned round
and looked at him scornfully, for ]
felt could have withered him with 8
glance; for he did not seem to feel il
much.
"You're a most impetuous young
lady," he said, in q slow, low, musical
voice. 81 haVe not half finished my
criticism of this very remarkable pro-
duction," and he took the manuscript
quietly but resolutely from my trem-
bling fingers. "Now, Miss''-
sJones," 1 said shortly.
'iNo, not Jones; but the name will
serve;" and 1 felt his keen grey eyes
on my face and observed an amused
smile lowering around the corners of
his mouth, which was hidden by long,
fair, dropping mustache. ''Now, Miss
Jones, pray sit down'-he indicated a
high leather-covered chair Just oppo-
site to him-"and let us talk this mat
ter over. If you had been content,
like other aspiring young authors, to
way, through the medium of post
man and a newspaper wrapper, it
would have been declined, doubtless,
with or without the customary though
not very consoling thanks; but, since
you have bearded the lion in his den,
you must listen to me for few min
utes."
1 bowed and sat down. He had got
out his scalpel and was going to scar
ify me mercilessly, but had brought
it on myself and felt must heroically
endure it, though 1 glanced surreptit-
iously around the "den'' in search of
some means of escape. He ''fixed me
with his glittering eye," and I waited,
wondering why had been so mad and
misguided as to enter an editorial Of
fee at all.
Slowly, deliberately, with sort of
fendish satisfaction, he smoothed out
the crumpled manuscript, glancing at
me with amused interest.
"Whhy do you write poetry, Miss
"G don't know; because I want to 1
suppose"
ga woman's reason-therefore valid. |
But do you honestly and really think it
is necessary for people, even in poetry, |
and supposing they are very much in
love with each other-which no one is,
it necessary for them to
be bitten and 'smitten', and that sort
of thingP Is it really desirable in the
.~to Of h,,, MI TO- |
hearts to be melted and 'smeltedP"
and he placed his finger under GER
tain stanza, "This sentiment, for in
stance, is simply ferocious."
"Dontl" l cried angrily, "It's very
cruel and unkind Of you! If you don't
want my poetry, you can say so, and
have done with It'll"
"'My passion flowed forth as tor
rent'-which of course rhymes with
abhorrent.
"Stop, please !'-and 1 thrust my
ingers into my ears in the most undig-
nified misery; but could not shut out
he sound Of the clear, quiet, mocking
yoice. 1 shut my eyes, but there was
he horrid, gloating, good-looking edi-
or watching me steadily, his hand rest
ng on my beautifully written poem-I
hought then and think to this day that {
t was and is beautiful. When looked {
It him again, he was laughing at my
ny distress; smiling to himself, like a {
,houl CT harpy, or something equally I
lorrid, but that he was exasperatingly 6
,ood-looking.
Snow, Miss Jones, what else have S
ou written besides this very remarka- {
lie productionP" with another sup I
ressed smile.
90 Some blank verse and blanker prose, S
And more OF both than anybody knows, >"
reply, little bitterly. "Will you =
lease give me my manuscript I'm t
cry sorry to have troubled you; Ishall
ever do so.again!'
"Oh, yes, you will; and shall be t
cry glad to consider some of the blank
rose you speak SO despairingly Of If il