The Calhoun chronicle. [volume] (Grantsville, W. Va.) 1883-1984, 1896-12-15

thought, rs he remembered some OF
The description.
''Sit down please. and tell me all
about my little story. Take tho big
chair. Now We eau be comfortable
while We talk.
Comfortable, -. Lawrence on
gridiron was IN bliss compared with
Bert IN the easy garden chair. a. he
Afterwards conided 10 the senior edi.
tor
What are the fault, in my story?
Isn't tho writing plain? / couldn't
afford TO havo it typowritten, bat /
copied it carefully with stub pen and
the hest black INK"
at was beautifully written, beauti.
fully" said Bert, in a burst OF enthu-
siasm. "But, you see, in considering
"a story, there arc other things besides
penmanship TO be takan into account"
MIR. Marsh then launched Into n
learned di,quisition on tho short.
story. In fact. the short.story was
ono OF his hobbies 10 always wrote
1t with a hyphon, TO distinguish it
from the story which is merely short,
and ho managed 10 speak II so that
You knew the hyphen was there. lie
felt that he was talking we'll. but the
unappreciativo Miss Pratt pulled him
up shortly and brought him back b
concrete example.
''But | want to know what il the
matter with my story. II must be-
good. My aunts and unclps and all
my relatives have read il. and my
cousin, who took "A prize in college Tor
an Grafton, said 1t was immense.
Mr.. Marsh IN ntAlly agreed with tho
cousin, and wished himself safe " ith
Sister Anna.
"Ihe truth il, Miss Pratt, that ev
erybody cannot writo shorl.story
In fact. II is the hardest kind OF writ.
ing. It takos longer % write n short.
story than to write a long one. 4
famous writer said that he had not
time to write a short-story." (Berts
hobby again.)
''Do you think / could write long
story? have one four times rs long
as this, ] shonld like 20 read il b
you."
Mr.. Marsh felt his hair rising at the
prospect. io looked at his watch.
80 fear | can't stop to-day, for / must
make the four o'clock train. Other
wise | should be charmed to have you
read the story to me.
an send it TO you, An perhaps you
will like il better than tho short one.
I've got to write, SO I shall keep on till
some one takes my stories. / would
rather have them printed in the Epoch
than n any other mngazinJ have
got to succeed, for I must have money,
and this is the only thing can do. D."
1T needs money; therefore it must
write ] wonder what it needs money
for thought Bert. She was we'll
dressed, and all he saw OF the house
and grounds spoke otcomfort and good
taste. He could not tell her that she
could never write. and he left her look
ing very discousC late. To would have
liked to stay aud comfort her, but 1t
would hardly have been conventional.
Three days later q manuscript was
put on the nssuciatc editors desk. #
was from Miss Pratt, and was adj
dressed to him. After IL was duly en-
tered aud acknowledged, Bert place
it among other manuscripts on the
senior editors desk Halsey could tell
her the truth, Bert told himself. lie
could not break her heart. His breath
came little fas ter than usual, rs ne
her sittingIn the sunshide
ami looking 70 unhappy over her
story. He made marks on his blotter
III m absent minded fashion, and
wondered why she needed money so
much. She had referred to it alain in
her letter Bert had half mind 90
straighten up her story, put some
Ego" into it, and put lish it. But
when Haisey came in he put the idea
away.
"Halio Here is Elizabeth Hastings
Pratt again, as gool as ever. Bert,
have you been encouraging her? What
Is the story this time? The Search
for Sylvia Sherwood She goes in for
Now for feast Of reason
an flow OF soul. "Thejsun was shed.
ding his last rays upon n lowly cot, eru
powered by trees, behind which flowed
a rivulet.' Got that, Bett?' And Hal.
scy turned in his swivel chair. oman,
it's prose idyll Now, what next?
Something is bound to happen. a
door opened an 4 youth sailed forth,
bearing upon his brow the marks Of
anguish. This is getting to be thrill
iny. DO you mind the youth with a
brow?'
Don't, HaIsey. She isn't bit Of
a fool, except on this one subject. and
she is a goo deal more than pretty"
" III She be no. fair Tor me, what
care r. Bert, my son, am afraid
you are ia love. I'll WAGER two hats
that she sent this talo directly 20 you.
and you put the job of reading it oil
on me. If YOU had told her, point
blank, that she never can write, she
wouldn't have sent this in. ICs your
alur, go 7 tIrn the manuscript over
to You. Take @ back TO her sul plan
for q serial; she wiz send one next
tune
lIr. Marsh gloomjiy tucked the
story away i'm his desk, wondering
hos Haiscv had guessed so straight
nhoJt the seyial.
Hn wrote three letters ncxt day.
and tore n.l of them mp. He finally
despatched "rlc Search for Sylvia
Sherwood" with brief note saying
that ho would pnss through the town
ON tine following Saturday. end would
CAL and explain. ON Mon lov he told
BMscy of DO, anil thtt individual was
wicked enough to cough .ontentiously.