The herald., 1894-03-17
HER NOM DE PLUME.

stand here alone-as much alone this
clear, cold winter morning as though the
wastes of Sahara stretch out around me.
Yet l am in a pretty room-a luxurious
room-with a glorious fire glowing In
the silver barred CRATE and the curtains
of frosty lace half obscuring the outside
world. A room with O warm crimson
carpet, jardkliere of blooming plants,
a redbird swinging idly to and fro in its
gilded cage, piano in the corner and
pictures on the walls, and books-books
everywhere.
This is my especial sanctum, my own
den, whittier l retreat from the storms
of the world, the cold, pitiless blasts of
adversity-and find peace. Yet l am
woman-a sensitive, imaginative wom-
an-and if sometimes a tiny touch of
discomfort starts into my heart-a feel
ing of loneliness-it surely need not con-
cern any one but myself. MAN was not
made to live alone" and, for the matter
of that, neither was woman. Yet
better lonely single life than an un-
happy double existence. So say as go
over to my desk and seat myself for the
daily ''grind."
First l will introduce myself. My
name is We're st. Albans Hale, and am
a newspaper correspondent, writer of
magazine articles and everything else in
the imagination line for which can find
sale. The reader must not object to the
implied inference that the newspaper
correspondent is to be classed with writ
ers of fiction. Yet whence do they CLEAN
all their scraps of wonderful informa-
ton?
For a long time l have been writing
articles for leading magazine under
masculine nom de plume-Vere st. AL
bans-which is an abbreviation Of my
own given name attached to my second.
To my surprise, the articles have been
received with far more appreciation than
l had dared to hope for. and that fact,
accompanied by liberal checks, has
proved very pleasant episode in my
hardworking existence. This morning
as seat myself at my desk preparatory
to coming down ON the days work like
the traditional wolf on the fold am in
terrupted by the appearance of my own
bCI dAI-d XII WIFI u ldlIt ODCu COuubt~
nance and general vacuity.
"Well, Abby" observe, a little tes-
tily, for she is transgressing well
known rule regarding the interrupting
of my work, 'what is itf"
"Please, miss" Gn q solemn voice,
which somehow provokes me to smile),
''there's a lady-that is to say, a girl-in
the deception room"
A small antechamber where my stray
visitors are first received before being
welcomed into the sanctum. smile a
little more.
Reception room, Abby" correct So
verely, but feeling an irresistible desire
to expand the smile into laugh.
"What is her businessf"
"Oh, she wants to see Mr.. We're st. Al
bans = that's. the very name, miss"
(proudly). "Tve said it over and over
till know it's right"
"Mr. We're st. Albansr'
repeat the name-the unlucky name
jim bewildered way.
"What does she wish Of him?
Abby conrtesies.
"Please, miss, don't know. But she's
a-carryin little book in her hand. No,
miss, she's not book agent, cause [
asked her. She's college girl, she says,
and-and-I believe it's some writing
she wants DONE"
Iarise in mock resignation. did have
an idea-a bright and brilliant idea-in
my brain when / seated myself at my
desk this morning. 1t has flown now
VIII it ever returnP
/ take myself into the reception room
and find my visitor a pretty little school
girl, overdressed and laden with school
books Conspicuous on the very top lies
q velvet bound volume. Yes, 1 have
seen such volumes before, ''many time
and off," and it does not require the
word Autographs" in huge, gilt letters
to explain its mission. She arises at once
s'Pardon me for intruding," she be-
gins, 'sbut have ventured to call to re-
quest the autograph of the great writer,
We're st. Albans. Will you kindly inter
cede in my behalf, madam, and beg
him to write in my album?"
There is the situation in a nutshell.
She believes We're st. Albans to be a
man. anu SIG WuIlb6 IllS 111uSbIlOub dubO-
graph. Well, the very easiest way in
the world to get it over with and to be
at liberty to return tony days work at
the desk is to grant her request.
81 will ask him." l return, feeling likS
a small conspirator.
"Oh, will you, please9" hcr face light
ing up wonderfully. "How good of youi
You see, there's wager on it. Brother
Tom has bet me dozen pairs of hid
gloves-six buttons and assorted shades
7Tthat I'll not be able to get st. Albans'
autograph. He says there is mystery
about him. think you are very kind
% promise to help mei' she adds gush-
fngly.
/ do my best to repress smile, and so
taking the book from her hand retire
to the privacy of my sanctum, where l
proceed to inscribe my name in my lar
gest, manifest chirogrsphy. Idry it cares
fully and return to the reception room.
'SOh, how very kind in syeur my viss
itor gushes again, 81 shall prize it as