The Arkansaw traveler., 1885-11-14
MRS. ANNIE GREEN
CHAPTER XVI.

Mrs. Hicks soon returned but saw that her ma nner had undergone change Perhaps am relying too much on my own judgment" she said. "You have every appearance of being perfectly sane, still might make mistake. When Mir Hicks returns will see what can be done"
 Madam, although am somewhat disappointed" l replied, "yet must thank you for your good opinion. Little girl," l added turning to Vilsie, "l will finish writing your story after have told one. Now, Mrs. Hicks, am going to tell you something which may place a great strain on your credulity-fo for it really does not seem that scheme so vile could be planned and executed in a Christian country-but which, will take a solemn oath, is true"
 Then, as dispassionately as possible, I told my story. Mrs. Hicks was deeply impressed, and even little Vllsie was af- fected.
 "Can 1t be possible [" Mrs Hicks said when had concluded.
 " It is fact, madam"
 !" Why, never heard of anything ot the kind outside of a novel,"
 No, and wish that this had not oc- cured outside of one"
 "Why didn't you tell my husband be- fore he left home"
 "He would not have believed me-"
 "You are right. It takes a great deal to convince him. His sonny step son and Vilsie's half brother-was crazy and since then it requires but little argument to convince him of any ones insanity. In every other respect he is extremely in- credulous. Well, must return to my work. Don't let Vilsie bother you"
 "She is company and is therefore an enjoyable luxury" replied.
 "Yes, but she might become too much of luxury. think that when she ceases to be necessity you'd better tell her to go away. hope you'll forgive me for inspiring hope and then crushing it, but as say, it is really better to wait un- til MT. Hicks gets back"
 "You inspired hope, it is true, but the interest you continue to show more than repairs the crushed hope. Now, Vilsie," added, when her mother had gone, "I will finish your story"
 The art of writing stories for children is not easily acquired, but must have been exceptionally alive to youthful lit- erary demand, for Vilsie was delighted with the story.
 "Read it again." she said.
 read it again. She thought for mo- ment and said: "lf you will read it to me some more times can read it to my pa an then he'll know you ain't crazy"
 "You cannot read writing, can you"
 "Ns, sir, but if you read it some more I'll know it by heart an can tend like sm readin' it."
 ] read it until she was satisfied. She took the manuscript and ran away. Shortly afterward, 1 heard her reciting the story.
 The day passed as well as it could pos sibly drag along for man in such close confinement. Mrs. Hicks brought me book and was delighted to see that it was not treatise on insanity, but an old copy of "Adam Bede." Ihad read the book, years before, but never had en- tered so deeply into the spirit of it's con- ception nor seen so plainly the masterly touches of its execution. How different from the works of the present dayl l could hear Mrs. Poysey's voice as she uttered her sharp sayings, and could see pretty Hety as she moulded the golden butter.
 When stretched myself on my bed that night looking deep into myself, l al- most forgot my misfortunes in the study of my literary weakness. My book was success, but how shallow, how vapid in comparison with the great work which 1 had just put aside. An, they may talk of the future novel and its hundreds of pages devoted to the whimsicalities of char. acter, but the future novel, with all its latter day improvements, can never reflect the genius that gleams along George Eliot's pages.
 CHAPTER XVII.
 MT. Hicks returned. Be1ore he came