Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1884-07-24

81 don't know Mr.. SWlnburne-that is, |
I met him only once, and then he said
something to me in Greek" 1 replied.
"He might have said something much |
worse But merely mean you should
not devote so much of your time to his
poetry-the Poems and Ballads for in
stance, and the Songs before Sunrise "
GLOW do you know doP'
"Internal evidence :" and he touched
nv manuscript. 'This betrays a severe
course. You must alter your style. Miss
Jones. Time enough for you to come to
the cynical-sensual-meta physical-incom-
prehensible in ten years, say. You'll be
educated up to the point of not believ-
| ing word of it by that time. Kindly
leave me your address, and the manu-,
script shall be returned in the usual
way"
mo. II Brown street, Bloomsbury, w.
c." I replied, my face crimson, scare 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 appeared,
who conducted me down dark break
neck stairs, though several moldy, dusty,
! labyrinthine passengages and out through
a booksellers shop. 1 felt more thor
oughly small, mean, miserable, and dis
gusted than had ever felt In my whole
life as I emerged from the shady by
street containing the Office into the light
and hustle of Piccadilly, and, as I got in
to bus, I vowed never again to come to
a personal encounter with an editor.
Hereto l had been content to drop my
little contribution mOdestly into the let
ter-boxes of certain weekly publications
that delight in small stories, or I would
send them by post and await the result
with what patience I could. Sometimes
my stories and verses were accepted,
sometimes not, and fancied that, if an
editor only knew how very much
in earnest, how devotedly attached
to my calling-for I had. married the
Muse of Literature for better for worse
there was no 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 | had heard
so much about the editor of the ATLlng-
ton; all the girls at the reading room of
the British Museum were constantly
talking of him; and in an evil hour,
armed with my most elaborate pOetical
production, 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
| II,
and, worst of all, failure. Heaven and
earth, how I hated that man as I sat in
the most remote corner of the bus on
my homeWard journey-how l vowed to
be revenged and let him know some day
whom he had sneered and jeered at
would put him in novel, in a comedy,
in a burlesque. I would caricature him
with pen and pencil, I would become
famous merely to spite him, and refuse
oh, the joy of that thought would
refuse to write serial for his hateful
, mas azine. I believe I became almost
; eloquent in my internal denunciations Of
him; and, as an immediate, practical
disdainful defiance of him, l got out al
Oxford street and went into Nudes for
another volume of Swinburne.
In one way or another the editor Of
the arlington was a good deal in my
thoughts during the next week, and the
? more l considered his conduct the more
l detested him my cheeks burned and
my ears tingled as l recalled his low
hooking tones and quiet, annihilating
, glances. AS for submitting story, essay,
or articles to his tender mercies-never
A fortnight passed and my manuscript
did not come back. My name was not
Jones, but really did live with Mrs
Kent, in Brown street, and told her all
|
: it been sent. Of course he had tossed it
in capacious waste paper basket that
had noticed under his table, and thai
was the end of it.
One day, quite month after my en-.
counter with the autocrat of the ArLiTlQ-
ton, Mrs. Kent announced visitor, gen.
tleman, 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
. un2sked into the only easy chair was
! at my writing table, and meant to stay
there. However, here they are, all safe
with few marginal notes. You do real
ly leave beautifully broad clean margins
they're quite tempting By the way
why haven't you sent me that story?"
" haven't written it yet" replied
| longed to add, "and 1 never mean to-
but somehow I could not.
, "Well, you must; prose pays best
What other editors have you been inter
viewing latelyW
"None! l never want to see another
in all my life!"
He leaned back in his chair and
laughed heartily; then, with mock
"Tm glad to hear that, for you're real
ly quite dangerous. By the way
why did you say your name was
Jones? You might have known ]
should find you out. Editors dc
find out everything in time. You are
Miss Madeline Meredith, of Garth, and
your brother JEFF and were chums al
Elton and Oxford"
"OhP said, some what surprised. 81
!; didn't knoww
"Of course not. How could you?''
"And I'm not Miss Meredith of Garth
any longer" said, with an effort al
; proud cOmposure. "Papa lost all his
money and our house was sold; then
papa died, and JEFF is with his ship al
! the Cape, and Aunt Adelaide dldn't
want me any longer; so came to Lon