The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, 1886-09-30
Suddenly a thought came into her

Could she not make a tale as sweetly
pathetic as that of the idealist whose
hopeless quest" had charmed her
while she toiled? 1t was a new thought,
a new aspiration, and one. too, she
thought, which was possible, which
might be actual.
Nina put on her faded wrap and
trudged home, that evening, through
the rain, with a lighter heart than she
had known for a long time. There was
something romantic in the thought of
putting her life into words-of making
a story out of the dreariest of dull real
tiles. She wondered that she had not
thought Of it before. Perhaps there
was something true and noble and beau
tiful in this dull reality, after all-per-
haps she might make 1t seem SO to her.
self, by bringing to light the I'M
certain yearnings of her inmost heart.
Two weeks flew by; and one after
noon the editor of the NeDs was sur
prises to see Nina Kelsey step timidly
into his room and lay down a roll of
manuscript.
IF you please, SIR" she said, sit is
a little story that l have written, and
would you be kind enough to look it
over and see if it is good enough for the
NeWSp'
The editor laughed good-naturedly
as he picked up the neatly-written
sheets and leaned back in his
chair to read them. Nina stood
nervously waiting, with downcast eyes,
and toying with the fringe of her
wrap.
why, my dear grip exclaimed the
editor, as his eye ran down the last
sheet, and his pencil instinctively flew
back to the margin of the first with the
magic inscription. written expressly
for the NeWs"-'this is fine, really fine!
| do not know as l ever read a sweeter
little story. | am proud to use it in
the News, and hope you will write us
some more like it. Everybody will be
wondering who M is. 1t will be Just
the thing for Saturdays fourth page.
Allow me to congratulate you, Miss
Kelsey! You will make an author one
of these days"
Nina flew up stairs with tears of joy
and gratitude in her eyes. She had
not expected such cordial praise and
encouragement from Mr.. Beckwith.
Was her little story, then, really so
good? If it had any merit she knew it
must be the merit of earnestness and
reality. for she had put her whole soul
and life and longing into it, and there
were stains upon the paper where her
tears had fallen. 1t was a labor of love
for her TO put it into type, and when
on Saturday morning it appeared, in
the clear-faced bourgeois, holding the
place of honor in the literary columns
of the NeWs, she was so overioyed that
she could scarcely keep from telling
her secret to every one she met. She
wondered Il people would read it, and
if she would ever hear from it again?
Somehow, she felt as though something
of good would result from it-some-
thing more than the mere delight of
having given it form, and having utter
ed through it the yearning of her soul.
Thus another week passed. and Nina
toiled at her case, as usual, from morn
ing till night, but with a new jov and
cheerfulness. 1t seemed as though she
had in some sense indicated her work,
ennobled it, and beautified it, bv iden-
tifying her deepest life and longing
with its outward surroundings. It
was, therefore, with a start of surprise
that she found, me morning, lying on
her case, a letter addressed in a strange
handwriting to ".M." author of "A
Day of Life Care of Editor of Daily
NeUs, Summerville, Conn" 1t was
the story again-perhaps!
She tore open the envelope with
trembling haste, and read as follows:
DEAR MADAM:-For I know that "a Dav of
Life" was written by no masculine hand-per-
init me to congratulate you upon your bea uti-
ful portrayal OF what Is to me the ideal life of
maidenhood-noble, seif-sacrifcing, pure. low
ing, lovely, and u~naSSuming. 1t has been nv
hope to meet with such a life, through all my
years of searching and waiting. But hitherto
1t has been only a dream. Until l read your
story. | believed that there was no such thing
as my ideal. Butnow | am sure that there is, and
that | have found it at last-in Yourself. Par
don me for presuming TO say that | can read
the writer in the story. You are the one
whose lovely life OF self sacrifice and devotion
to duty, while surrounded by temptations with
out, and moved by yearnings within, is there
portrayed. Noble girl!-believe me, | appreci-
ate your longings, while l admire and rever-
ence your devotedness to duty and to purity.
If the friendship of one who has spent some
of the best years of his youth seeking for the
H"ANh jun u oii'NA ips
of life reveals, can be of any moment TO YOU,
it is most reverently and humbly offered. I
wonder if you have ever read a story entitled
Hopeless Questi" Something in your
writing leads me to think YOU have. If so. you
viii know, in part, the reason why I make bold
to address you. A reply from your hand
would be more, far more, than l dare ask, and
not more than l dare hope. If nothing
else, will you not civilly tell me whether you
ever read the story l mentioned! It was first
published in the New York, and was ex-
t%ensively copied. Your story l met with while
travelling in a railway car. 1t was credited to-
the Sommerville Conn Ne,us. May 1 ex-
pect your kind favor soon?
Very respectfully yours,
RICHARD FAXoN,
Author of ga Hopeless Quest"
New York, N. Y.
But why make a short story long?
Mina's romance had comet She slept
but little that night, and the next day
she sat down and wrote a little note
this is all she said:
Richard Fazon.
DEAF SIR:-1have read "a Hopeless Quest.n
was that which inspired me with "a Day of
Yours truly,
NINA KELSEY.