St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1892-12-04


lie took it nervously and began to
run through the leaves.
" hat is it? What is ito" he asked.
hurriedly, reading sentence here and
there.
[ explained briefly. / was so proud
of that article. L wondered if he would
write the check, and who on earth would
Identify me at the bank.
Subjects out of date" continued the
editor, still fumbling the papers. II
have plenty of such material on hand;
more than l can use. Sketchy thing,
see. l cannot use it"
That was final. He handed the manu-
script to me, and turned to the young
lady and her Illustrations. Forthwith l
began to hate that young lady. She had
witnessed my humiliation. | longed TO
have her sent out of the room with me.
Still, | smiled all the way down and out
into the street. If people were standing
about. awaiting my unhappy advent
with intentions OF deriving amusement
from the same, they were to be disap-
pointed in my appearance. But people
IN New York do not stand about await
ing anybody's advent. They hurry
along on their own behalf. each man
for himself, and the devil take the hind
most. 1 felt singularly like the hind
most.
| walked directly to another newspa-
per building. | forced myself to do it.
although paused at every crossing and
longed to turn back. Once again took
the elevator to an editorial office. and
this time quite, speechleSs with anxiety,
L simply handed my little sketch to the
| occupant. He ran the pages over, as
dealer does his cards, and read the clos
ing sentence.
I'VE are just going to press" he said
quietly, land | cannot read this now.
Leave it and call tomorrow"
why did he wish to prolong my
agony? l had 1T in my mind 10 say
mo you don't" like BARLEY Hubbard.
in "A Modern Instance" but knew that
it would be unladylike- | crept out of
the room, with no heart left to summon
a smile. After walking blocks, with
out knowing where | was going, | took
car home. hoped and hoped that
the conductor would forget to collect
my fare-but no. He came clambering
! along, twisted my nickel from me, and
registered the inhuman act on his fiend-
iSh little bell. There went my second
| cup of tea, l groaned to myself. | don't
| know maybe l groaned aloud. | had
planned to have toast and tea two
| cups for lunch.
A letter went to mother. however, be-
fore had lunch. | put my whole soul
| into that letter. | told her that it looked
| as though | would starve-yes. ma am.
| starve-befOre got my newspaper work
under Roadway. In my loneliness / at
| last went down stairs, late in the after
| noon. and formed the acquaintance of
my landlady. told her to discontinue
my breakfasts. as should have to rise
early. showed her my gloves and told
| her how cheap they were.
She said: 'Oh, yes. they are cheap
| enough, but they won't W ear Mine tore
| the first time put them on"
| | went back to my room with burst
! ing heart and flung myself on the bed.
| My desperation was so great that be-
| gan to pray, la Marie Bashkirtseff:
| ooh Lord, make that editor accept
my article! Make him 'e how good it
| is! Send me courage to bear it if he
does return it. Help me to go right
straight to another editor and offer it,.
| And. o Lord. don't let my new gloves
tear! They are all have. And have
no money to buy even my dinner"
! The next morning [ received 81 from
| mother. went down for my article, and
i got it. The editor did not want it. He
/ said so. and he gave no reason. My
L
! side as | descended in the ele-
vator. 1t did this without the
4 slightest provocation. What weighed
| on my mind wis the 40 cents paid for
| typeWriting aud the 60 cents for those
/ gloves. | walked several blocks, and
j talked myself into trying one more
paper. found the editorial room
4 larger than the others. with long desk.
at which six men sat writing for dear
j life. Alfred TennYson had died during
the night, and | wondered vaguely if
they were writing competitive poems
/ about him. | think not, however. At
separate desk sat gentleman. who
rose and came toward me. / held out
the ill-starred manuscript with my
left hand-and murmured a word of eX-
PLANTATION.
"What is your address," inquired my
opponent, gently. He had a subdued,
almost sad, air when speaking. If he
had had time | think he would have
told me kindly that 1 would better 90
home to my mother.
gave him my address and watched
him write it on the back of the manu-
script When the solemn ceremony
was over retreated.
Do not think that | did give up after
those three defeats for my MS. was re-
turned by maid. l stayed in New York
a week, hunting for tutoring to do, and
for a governess' position, for an editor
who would accept my writing. L lived
on 55 cents a days cents for room
rent and so cents for meals. OF course,
| did not stay in the first room took
for 81. rs week. The landlady there
refunded my money the third day, and
found little kitchen bedroom near
Washington square for % cents day.
All the time | was receiving letters
from mother, written in the tone of the
Moody and Sankey song collections. AT
least, they had very much the same
effect upon me as where Is My Wan.
dering Boy Tonight?" and so Prodigal
Child" and the like. | walked until
my feet were sore Ito save car tare),
looking for work that would pay me suf.
ficiently to enable me to stay there and
keep up my writing. But, though left
no stone unturned, | found none; had
not started right.
The last Moody and Sankey letter
from mother contained money to pay
my fare home. | went. L started fol
the train thirty minutes after the letter
came. AS the elevated train raced
along past Bryant park | saw man
raking dry leaves from tue grass.
said to myself gayly, l know how he got
his job. He had raked autumn leaves
twelve or fourteen years before he came
to New York. He had brought with
him stacks of testimonials to that effect
and letter from his pator besides
Then he had friends in Wall street and
in Tammany hall, and they had just
doomed the matter right through when
he applied for the position. That was
the way he got it. | knew. When he
died the job would go to his son.
| went home, and l am engaged III
teaching school. | am glad and thank
full to do it. Does any girl want to have
i an experience like mine? Of course
j not, but she will have if she insists upoI
i going to New York. And if a young
girl wants to write for the newspapers
d know very satisfactory way out o.
d her misery. She would better go of
4 and drown herself in some quie
i place where there will be no officiou:
i person to step in and pull her out.
claim this is not suicide. 1t is merely {
4 painless method Of heroic self-repres-
sion.