Ceredo advance. [volume] (Ceredo, W. Va.) 1885-1939, 1892-04-06

pen.
"Ah. you dear thing. YOU" abe cried.
Waiting around the room with n bit of
blue paper in her hand, you represent
at least twenty five washings, SO
think, DIR. W., well wait awhile before
we follow your clever advice"
She took me out with my printed
letter. wooden letter remem Der she
called it-aud patted me tenderly.
II fear you're going to grow old and
gray in my service, old friend" she
said; but never mind, when we get
famous we'll have the laugh on some
of these stony-hcarted fellows who
augh at US now" and away went on
another tour, this time TO q country
newspaper of large circulation. I'm
not soar too high this time, said my
author, as she sealed me up.
What does She take me for" growled
the editor when again saw the light.
Suppose Pm going to buy stuff and
pay the expense of setting il up when
l can I'LL my paper with other matter
at twenty cents n column" and was
sent on my travels again before l had
time to rest the sole of my foot
The eNhilaration OF the check had not
worn off when l returned. and Miss
Mary could take me back without a tear
or sigh of disappointment
IF | were selling calico" she said.
Philosophically, Il should not weep or
moan because one objected TO the col
or, another to the quality, and third
TO the price. l myself should know
that l was selling good calico at Il fair
price, and am equally confid ent that
| am Offering good story for sale ut
regular rates-which means the buy
er's own price-so no tears, if YOU
please, Miss Mary, because your wares
don't happen TO sell"
| went now to a household journal of
large circulation, and here | think
spent the weariest and dreariest time
of my whole existence. Locked in TO a
desk with dozens of others awaiting
tardy examination, spent whole
year of suspense and anxiety.
There is some satisfaction in flying
about-one sees the world, at ell
events-but to await ones fate in
dreary, voiceless silence is most exas-
perating.
There! Another letter from that
tiresome woman, inquiring about her
precious MS" said the editor of the
great household magazine" fretfully,
as he tum bled me out upon his desk.
Some trashy love story, I'll be bound
Why can't women write something be-
sides love stories, i wonder"
He glanced me over carelessly.
Yes, yes Just as 1 expected An
gelina and Adolphus get married, and
THAR anrfhl- -
Miss Mary Bobolink, you're welcome
TO your story. don't want it,"
could scarcely wait TO get back. T
was so anxious TO know how they
Jared in my home, and l perceived at
once that ] had come in an inoppor-
tune time, when my author took me
out with a trem bling hand
Her eyes were heavy with much
weeping, and she laid me down with a
sigh.
only returned MS" she said
sadly, and how poor fathers funeral
eNpen scs are going TO be paid cannot
see"
went upon n weary round after
this-back and forth-hither and
thither and as my authors name was
beginning to become known, editors
read me with more OF attention, and,
as special mark of favor, returned me
with a criticism.
One said | was too long. movement
not rapid enough. and incident too
much spread ONT Another that
needed more careful elaboration
movement too rapid and not enough of
analysis and close attention to details
Still another, that my subject matter
was too unreal-not natural enough
and too evidently written TO pander to
demand for the strange and impossi.
BILE.
A fourth that there was too much of
"A sameness in my subject matter
nothing striking should be condensed
TO a. most one-third of its present
length.
AT the fifth and last criticism, that il
my author expected 20 succeed she
must draw her topics from nature
take real incidents with which to
touch the great heart of the reading
public Miss Mary quite broke down.
Having ears they hear not, and
having eyes they see not" she sobbed
How can touch the great heart of
the public II editors persist in standing
between II and me, and the very
articles which are drawn from real life
are those which come back most fire.
qucntly and branded as unreal, forced
and imaginary"
She tossed me into a drawer. Lie
there. good friend" she said, sadly
You have done all you could for me.
and have but one postage stamp in
the world and that is too precious TO
waste upon a forlorn hope"
] lay there for FIVE years, often see
ing the face Of my author. now sad.
low gay and bright with triumph and
success. but my rest was not disturbed
until one day when an urgent letter
came from well-Snown editor. the
very person to whom had gone in the
hrst Of my career, and who had since
been promoted fron the position Of
reader 20 that u editor in chief
we Will be glad 10 publish some
thing from your pen" hc wrote, and
anything You send us will receive "A
cordial welcome"
Her eyes twinkicd as she opened the
drawer whore ] lay Come out NV
TREND the day Of your triumph is az
hand. W She said. smillingly
She read me over carefully and crit.
cn-'y. you were Away, favoritc
with me. and like you better ,till
"a ffar uf fEm..