Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1890-11-09

tion society. Curiously enough there is
little jealousy to be found here, and every
one seems to try who will scratch the others
back the hardest.
Women do not say mean things of each
other, provided they belong to the society,
but instead take great pains to itipress upon
the stranger that Miss Angelina McFuddle
is genius, with great big G. They will
tell you, with looks of admiration directed
toward the genius, that copies of her book
entitled "Sarah Ridgeway, or the Under
done Mutton Chop" sold in thousands, and
that an eager public is breathlesJly awaiting
her next book, which, they tell you in strict
confidence, and under promise not to pub
lish the fact. is 20 be entitled "Dorothy's
Baby, or the Story ofa Pair Of Iantalettes.
MAKE YOU FEEL SMALL.
If you do venture to hint that you never
heard of Miss McFuddle, and mad never
read "Sarah Ridgeway," the look of utter
incre6ulity, and where were you brought
up?" that you are met with, forbids YOU to
try the experiment again. / suppose these
people do speak slightingly of each other, and
decry one anothers "genius" snd works"
when alone-they would not be human if
they did not-but will give them the credit
of never doing it before an outsider. 1 went
to one of these Bayswater sal homes" the
would meet some OF the most distinguished
literary men and women in London, and
that ought to mean the world.
Well, 1 knock about good deal and see
ing that earn my living by the sweat of my
pen, fancied 1 knew most of the current
literary men and women and their works by
name at any rate. I found, however, that
what was true in the big world, was equally
trne in the literary world, viz: that half the
world does not know how the other half
lives; for in all the crowd of 'litterary
fellers" gathered there, had never before
heard the name Of single one. Woeful
igno rance on my part, no doubt; but was
com iorted by the thought that if l was
ignorant of their very existence, how many
thousand were plunged in equally total
darknessl
VERY MANY SURPRISES.
resentative gathering Of literary Bayswater.
On my entrance was accosted by my host
ess, who said: NOW [ want to introduce
you to young friend of mine, quite a Gen
ius, can assure you. OF course you have
heard of her, Miss Matilda Blatherskite.
She has just translated Pop Goes the
Weasel from the original Sanskrit, and the
rendering she gives is quite different from
the accepted version. OF course you have
read her translation of Hey Diddle, Did
die from the original Cingalese. No? How
strange"
On my way across the room was intro
duced to a man in spectacles who, my host
ess informed me in whisper, mad "what
you Americans call boom; and was the
author of the successful novel, The Broken
Shoestring.'" found the famous trans
lator of "Hey Diddle, Diddle" mild-man-
nered young woman with a small nose, "tip-
tilted like the petal of flower" and re-
markably handy, as the IrIshman said, for
taking snuff.
"Ah, you come from America, oh-ah. It
is very big place-America?"
WHAT SHE KNEW OF AMERICA.
agreed with her that its size was above
the average as countries go nowadays.
"Are my works read there much?"
Of course had never heard of her works,
but I should never be so rude as to say SO,
so assured her that her works were the de-
light of the nation, and were read with equal
pleasure by the millionaire in his mansion
on Filth avenue and the Sioux Indian in
his wigwam. She then s'let herself 60" on
dissertation on the copyright law, and
when she had pumped herself dry on this
sah1sss abe vsnt OF a. hard galop On ths