The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1894-12-25
STORY OF A STORY.


drowned himself because he was not clev-
er enough to make a woman think that
she loved him. Loveland knew something
of them both. 1t was as he let 60 Duy's
arm that the story came into his head. he
got white, and his hand shook.
You don't like touching 'engs sug-
gested the officer who had assisted at the
useless rescue.
What" asked Loveland in bewilder-
ment
He was staring up the river into the
CULTS of bright mist. He had forgotten,
but when his companion spoke he looked
down at tho thing recalled to him and re-
membered more quickly than he had for
gotten. Why, it was his touch on this
man 5 dead arm that had set the pulses Of
a million Aprils beating In his brain
Death, HfS-did they them mean the
salnes He looked up the river again into
springs of all the years that had ever been
lived by men-farther, farther farther
into all of these other springs, blooming,
dying, beyond the senile memories OF
time. It was as if he had once been god
and a poet among gods, as il he had once
created the springtfme with the utterance
of one endiessIy echoinR word, word as
fatal as flame as elusive as water, as beau
tiful as the nnkissed lips of a girl. Tt WAS
as if he had now come in some Protean
disguise to tell of the thing no had created
to the deaf and dunn b and blind peoples Of
the world.
a
Asteroid, - the officer congratulated him.
Loveland started. His face got back its
color. The glow sank down to gray ashes
in his gray eyes as he took out his pad and
began to make copy 1t had just occurred
to him that at this particular time on
this particular planet, his role OF reporter
must be carried out. He would write the
story when he got time Meanwhile there
was the scoop.
Septem Der came, but he had never had
AZ
story had beckoned him, altured him,
mastered his imagination with it's beauty
and virility, with its exquisite strange
ness, its yet more exquisite familiarity 1t
seemed to him that he knew each word,
each paragraph, as it would look on pa
per. Eighteen hours after hours OF the
daily routine his tired eyes inwardly ca
ressed phantasmal phrases, his lips muir
INJURED words that were the souls of words,
but he never found time to write the story
out because of the hack work which al
lowed him to live by bread alone
Sometimes, indeed, on Monday morning
holidays, he took thought OF giving it tan
gible form, but his mood and his holiday
never chimed. Often, however down at
the office, when the rush was most breath
less and the yell for copy most maddening,
Loveland suddenly felt himself in a-~s--
lutte tune with the story. If could only
write it nowl'' he used to say to himself
at such moments. The futility Of the re-
Election enraged him one evening as he
bent above his proofs, trying to make
them out By tho sweltering lights Of nat
ural gas.
1t was scarcely an hour after one OF
these periods that he stood in his room
with the mood upon him. Tt gripped him.
1t forced him. He fought 1t back and
hurried with his dressing There were two
men to interview, he told himself There
was the city council to report. benefit to
look in at, 20 other things, but the mood
did not retreat even when confron ted with
these facts The rather it insisted Even
as Loveland put his hand upon the door to
go he stopped short and stared out of the
window. Perhaps it was morning to him
and the veil Of the mist was divided again.
Al least he did not go back to the office.
Instead, he flung himself across his bed
and began to write.
About i O'Clock his roommate, Cresset.
tumbled up the stairs and in at the door.
sWhatl' he gasped. He paled percep-
tibly as he half way appreciated the situa-
ton. The boss is down there, = he whia-
pered, awestricken. THE whole gang Is
cussing you out. What are you doing
here2 I only looked in here as q last
chance =
Loveland lifted himself OF sudden and
rested his eyes on Cresset, twisting his
pencil in his cramped fingers as he did 50.
Not that he knew they were cramped
s4Will you get out2'' inquired Loveland
evenly and impolitely. His brow wore
new aspect of sovereignty under his light
disordered hairs his lips took on Giew curves
of command; a large minded Indignation
blazed in his eyes and voice. Eut Cresser
was not impressed. He was not accus-
toned to be impressed by anything except
the boss, and besides in his minds eve
he bebeld office fun Of swearing men.
Certainly said he i will get out
and SO will you
1t was daylight when Loveland stopped
writing. He gathered the sheets Of the
manuscript up, and taking them over to
the open window read them by the light
in the eyes Of the pale dawn, who looked
marveling over his shoulder
1t was one of the moments that make
eternity seem worth while The story was
written. He held it in his hand the beau
tiful, perfect thing that expressed as q
flower its seed, the conception that had
laid summer long in his heart. In his
heart Why, be knew ii had laid waiting
a million years in the heart of the uni
versel He looked around the dim room
with the eyes Of god sitting at table in
high heaven, above life and fate and time
and the ignoble hungers Of men.
As he turned to greet the like look OF
the kindliDg dawn Cresset dragged his
tired body into the room He dropped
down on the bed. kicking of his shoes and
trying to catch Loveland's glance before
he spoke. A t last Loveland moved about,
hunting out fresh tablet from among the
i'll assorted contents OF his desk but he
took no notice Of Cresset, and when he de-
liberately began copying from the crurn-
pied man uscript the latter could stand it
no longer.
Il say, Loyelandr' he called out
Loveland looked up vaguely. "WelE, p
he said-his hand never stopped. What
Is itY'
You've been fired, that's ali. 2 said
Cresset