The Manning times. [volume] (Manning, Clarendon County, S.C.) 1884-current, 1896-10-28
FOUNDED ON FACT.
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length.
The man who entered ry study was
complete stranger to me. he was tall,
between 10 and so years Of age, rather
thin and very angular IN his move
ments. he wore a short beard, was
slightly bald and had decidedly pleasant
features. When he smiled, his eyes
seemed to sparkle and he exhibited two
excellent rows Of teeth.
s'I am afraid am quite unknown to
you," he began.
bowed my head and wondered what
was coming next.
"But your name as rising young
novelist and writer Of short stories is.
Of course, familiar to me-. :"
Who could he be: I began to have
visions Of publishers and editors clamor-
ing at my door for contributions from
my pen. Was he about to give me a
commission for a new serial? Perhaps
he represented some leading magazine
and was prepared to pay sums undream-
ed Of for my tales Of love and adven-
ture. Or WAS he only some newspaper
interviewer bent on satisfying the Curl
osity Of his readers respecting my opin-
ions and manner Of life?
"Pray be seated" I said.
We sat facing one another on opposite
sides Of the hearth rug. It was cold,
dull November day, and the bright FIRE
that burned in the CRATE was comfort
ing. Mr.. Rogers took from his pocket q
copy Of q popular magazine and held it
on his knee.
Capital story that Of yosrs!"
s'Which?" asked.
s'That last one in here" he said, tap
ping the covers Of she book, "the STORY
called The Mystery Of Rowner's Mil :"
"I am glad you like it, but really
"a splendid story! Rssssr daring
though
"Yes-to publish story Of real life
as mere Scsion.
"LSon't understand what
But why did you make Maud dark
girl? OF course she was fair. as you
know. Her real name was Mabel, but
GaaC 0OeSn = malrer.
"Yoa are quite
"Still, you have nit OF Maltoy to
at"
''The story, assure. you, was'--
written under pressure Of time?
Yes, I have no doubt Of it. But your de-
scription Of the old mill is exact. Row
ner's Mill is, Of course, Radford's Mill,
rear B"
s'Allow me to explain
stQuits unnecessary, assure you.
You were perfectly justified in changing
the name. But that passage in which
you describe the act of vengeance on
Maltby is remarkably powerful and ac-
curate. Ahl here it is: Seeing his vic
tim powe-less, Jasper Gore, with the
strength Of q giant, seized him in his
arms and 9oy one moment held him
above his head IN front Of the open win
dow. Then be hurled the wretchsd man
into space. Down, down he fell, until,
with splash that was inaudible amid
the roar and rattle Of the mill, Maltby
disappeared in the deep water Of the
sace, and was instantly battered to a
shapeless mass by the huge revolving
water wheeln'
"But surely you know
"Oh, yes; 7 know every ioch Of the
place. OF course you are a little bit
rough on me-
'sOn you?''
eyes; you see. Jasper Core
rose to my feet. So far had hardly
been able to get word in edgeways. I
had not the slightest idea what he was
driving at. He was eShaussing my pa
thence.
'sLook here, sir" shouted warmly,
"I haven't yet the pleasure Of knowing
who you are. What the-will you kind
ly tell me what you are talking about?"
"Why, my dear sir, I am talking
about this story Of yours called The
Mystery Of Rowner's Mil Twas just
saying that you have made me-other-
wise Jasper Core
"Gore is one OF my characters. un-
derstand your name is Rogers"
The man leaned back and roared with
daughter. I sank into my chair in a
state Of evaporation
Excuse my laughing, he said, "but
when you put On that innocent air it is
irresistibly funny. What does it matter
which name use. Gore OF Rogers-are
ahey not one and the same? What was
easier: You took my real name, Rogers,
rejected the last two letters. srsnspossd
the others, and then yoa had it-Gore !"
was now quite out o2 temper.
''I don't know what your object is, !"
] said, in coming here and talking this
nonsense. The story is pure fction-s'
simple creation Of my own brain-from
beginning to end So FAR as I know, the
characters never lived, the incidents
never happened, the mill described new
er had any existence-ezcept in my own
imagination.
Ny visitor watched me as spoke,
and grin slowly broadened on his face,
until he again burst into loud laughter.
ssI should never have believed it!'
he said.
believed what7''
"You novelists, it would appear, are
30 stepped in fiction that you lose all re-
gard for truth.
"what do you mean, sir:" I cried in
disnantly.
''Is it necessary to explain9 Here, IA
this magazine, I have u stori ''yr:.s 81
sential detail Of which is actual lrGth,
and you coolly tell lue that it was all
evolved out of your own brain %
Certainly. So it was
Now, what is tho use of talking
like that to me-to me? lam Rogers
Rogers is Gore. (call me by which
name you ike) am the man whose acts
are described in this story"
''Do you mean to sis theirs and tell