The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1897-11-21
WHAT SHE KNEW OF nuRcuARs.
Mrs. Browns Realistic Story and n
More Realistic Experiences.


From the Galveston Daily News.
NO Amelia, you cannot write a sue
cessfm burglar story. Your burglars are
too considerable. Now, a burglar hasn't
any professional pride. He doesn't care
how easily he can get into a house He
gloats over solitary establishment
though he goes prepared to Kill whomso-
ever he may find. 1 have read every word
Of your story, but it will not dc" 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 burglar. We have never
been rich enough to persuade thief that
it was worth his while to visit us. And
that last chapter, where you have the
burglar start at the sound of approach
ing footsteps, and, leaving his bag of sill
yer and his dark lantern, rush headlong
from the house, that, my dear, that's alb
surd! He wouldn't leave the silver nor
rush out; you should change that. Have
him stink behind door, draw pistol, and
take sure aim. See?'
Il don't care If haven't seen a burglar
l know just what they are like Haven't
l been alone in this house night after night
when 1 could imagine they We're all over
the place? l have experienced every sem
sation that any one could with burglars;
therefore 1 write from experience, retort-
ed Mrs. Brown, picking up the package of
neatly written pages and laying 1t on her
desk.
You'll not be more frightened than US
ual then. if I'm not at home before morn
ing?' said Mr.. Brown, looking at his
watch.
MIR. Brown was the editor Of a morning
paper, and his wife was accustomed to be-
ing left aione. They lived in one of the
pleasant suburbs near Boston, safe and
quiet location, where neighbors We're near
at hand and where a policeman walked by
the house at certain hours OF the night
II must go now; it's after g. Look We.
after a burglar; just thing of the local
color you could put in your story if bur
glar really would come in during my alb
sencC."
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
see the value Now. 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 bur-
glar of literary perceptions.
The clock struck la sharp, sudden
strok7 that woke Mrs Brown instantly.
She was wide awake in Il moment, with
every sense alert. A little breeze came in
through an open window. and she noticed
the heavy fragrance of the iilacs.
With wide-open eyes she waited, for she
felt she was in some immediate danger
that to move, to make the least sound,
ha IN hal 70
that neighbor could be easily called, that
her doors were securely fastened. She
was only conscious of a benumbing fear.
She could distinctly hear footsteps in the
lower part of the house. She heard a
chair moved in the library, then came
silence, and Mrs. Brown gained 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 danger-they might set the
house on FIFE For her to simply listen
and wait for them TO work their win was
madness.
She crept out of bed and slipped ON a
loose gown. Then her fear almost over
came her IF l live until morning we
VIII move" she whispered between her
chilled lips; but she opened her door and
went trembling 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 moment
Mrs. Brown listened. Then came the faint
rustic of paper and, leaning over the rail-
ing, she peered into the room.
She could see her desk plainly. Before it
sat a man. In his hands was the manu-
script she had left 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
faint smile lowered about her lips For
an instant she resolved to sacrifice her sill
yer; but no! She carefully retraced her
steps, gained her own room, and in a
moment the queit 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 came down the stairs
to let in the people who had promptly come
to her assistance she found the library
door wide open. On the table was an
overturned dark lantern, and beside It a
bag containing the silver Scattered about
the desk and floor were the sheets of man.
uscript.
Mrs Brown looked about her carefully
eve must not touch thing in this room
until Mr.. Brown returns she said with a
faint note of triumph m her voice.