St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1897-11-19
HOW THE BURGLAR LEFT.
And Also Relating the Triumphs Of Mrs. Brown
Over Her Husband.

And Also Relating the Triumphs Of Mrs. Brown
Over Her Husband.
mo, Amelia, you cannot write a sue
cessful burglar story. Your burglars are
too considerable. Now, a burglar hasn't
any professional pride. He doesn't are
how easily he can get into a house. He
gloats over a solitary establishment,
though he goes prepared to kill whomso.
ever he may find. l have read every
word of your story, but it will not do,H
said Mr.. Brown firmly, as he looked at
his wife.
"Why will it not do ?"
well. in the first place, you don't
know anything about a burglar. We
have never been rich enough to persuade
a thief hat it was worth his while to
visit us. And that last chapter, where
you have the burglar start at the sound
of approaching footsteps and, leaving
his bag OF silver and his dark lantern.
rush headlong from the house, that, nv
dear, that's absurd! He wouldn't leave
the silver nor rush out; you should
change that. Have him sink behind a
door. draw his pistol and take sure aim.
See"
II don't care if l haven'ts seen a burglar.
know just what they are like. Haven't
l been alone in this house night after night
when could imagine they were all over
the place? l have experienced every SELL
sation that any one could with burglars,
therefore | write from experience re-
torted Mrs. Brown, picking up the pack
age OF neatly written pages and laying it
on her desk.
you'll not be more frightened than
usual. then, il I'm not at home before
morning ?" said Mr.. Brown, looking at
his watch.
Mr.. Brown was the editor of a morning
paper, and his wife was accustomed %
being left alone. They lived in one of the
pleasant suburbs near Boston, a safe
and quiet location, where neighbors were
near at hand and where a policeman
walked by the house at certain hours of
the night.
II must 60 now; it's after 8. Look
we'll after a burglar; just think of the
local color you could put in your story
if burglar really would come in during
my absence"
Mrs. Brown received these remarks in
scornful silence; and after her husbands
departure took up her manuscript and
read the story carefully.
1.-THE trouble is that Tom doesn't know
a story when he sees it. Unless anything
is a regular newspaper article he doesn't
see the value. Now a judge, a man of
subtle mind-a burglar, for instance,
would see the fine points, the realistic
power Of this story in a moment"
Mrs. Brown almost regretted the limits
Of her surroundings, which prevented her
from requesting the opinion of some
burglar of literary perceptions.
The clock struck la sharp, sudden
stroke that woke Mrs. Brown instantly.
She was wide awake in q moment, with
through an open window, and she no.
ticed the heavy fragrance of the lilacs.
With wide open eyes she waited, for
she felt she was in some immediate dan
ger-that to move, to make the least
sound, would be to hasten her fate. She
forgot that a neighbor could be easily
called, that her doors were securely fast
ened. She was only conscious of a be-
numbing fear.
She could distinctly hear footsteps in
the lower part of the house. She heard
a chair moved in the library, then came
a silence, and Mrs. Brown gained a little
courage and realized that something
must be done. There was a service OF
silver that could not be easily replaced,
and there was another d~anger-they
might set the house on fire. For her to
simply listen and wait for them to work
their will was madness,
She crept out OF bed and slipped on a
loose gown. Then her fear almost over
came her. "If | live until morning we
will move" she whispered between her
chilled lips; but she opened her door
and went tremblingly down the stairs.
The library door was ajar, and a dim
light shone through the space. but there
was no sound to be heard. For a mo-
ment Mrs. Brown listened. Then came
the faint rustic Of paper, and, leaning
over the railing, she peered into the
room.
She could see her desk plainly. Before
it sat a man. In his hands was the man.
uscript she had lett upon her desk two
hours before.
As Mrs. Brown watched him the tense
lines in her face relaxed; her eyes were
fixed upon him, and as he read on and on
a faint smile lowered about her lips. For
an instant she resolved to sacrifice her
silver; but no! She carefully retraced
her steps, gained her own room, and in a
moment the quiet street was awakened
by the sound of her cries Police! Help
Help!" At the same instant there was
the noise of an overturned chair, The
rush of steps and the slam of an outer
door.
When Mrs. Brown cam down the
stairs to let in the people who hao
promptly come to her assistance, sht
found the library door wide open. Or
the table was an overturned dark Ian
tern, and beside it a bag containing the
silver. Scattered about the desk ano
the floor were the sheets of manuscript
Mrs. Brown looked about her carefully
eve must not touch a thing in thisroon
until Mr.. Brown returns" she said will
a faint note of triumph in her voice.
From the Galveston News.