The San Francisco call., 1898-04-04
MANUSCRIPT MUTTERINGS.


 ~ o you're back again." sneered "A Cynic's Love Story 'I told you how 'twould be. These editors have k vowed that nothing really meritori-
 ous, nothing lifelike, human, orig inal shall be published. To which one were you sent?''
 "The Atlantic" Helena" answered de- jectedly.
 I've always wished he'd sent me there instead of to the Cosmopolitan. I've an idea"
 ''Oh. have your" interrupted Helena" Well, take courage. You'll have an op- portunity to test your theory some day"
 Its only question of time, my dear" said Who'd be a Woman?" the dean of the MSS. "He swears he'll never try again when we come back, but along comes day when there's a renewal of hope-you can't kill it in @ writer-then he'll take you up or 'The City of My Heart" or 'The Penance of Peter"-the first one of us his hand lights upon. His fingers close upon one so lingeringly, so tenderly. Almost unconsciously he be- gins to read; he becomes deeply interest ed q never knew it to fail when an authors his own audience) he reads to the end, lays down the story and sits for moment. beautiful light in his eyes, tender, proud smile about his lips. Whats he thinking about? What does he see? I'll tell you what I sometimes think. He sees us not as we are with all our faults of execution, with all our little human shortcomings, but as he conceived us, full, warm and glowing with life, clear and sustained as the note a tenor thinks he sings Each incident is a living, breathing picture to him; he sees us as we live in his own mind each of us, all of us. his beloved children even-even-" Who'd Be a Woman?" concluded al- most with a sob-"even those of us who are least vigorous. who are old and yet immaturely crude"
 1T know" exclaimed "The Penance of Peter eagerly. When he takes me up like that, the power of appreciation, the delicacy of perception which is in him. seems to inspire me. I rise-or try to- to the ideal he has of me, and judging by the triumph in his face I believe I al- most succeed in being the dainty, deli cate. witty thing he imagined me. You know he wrote me in an afternoon, banged me into an envelope and sent me off as if he were afraid some second thought might induce him to alter sim gle word or phrase of what he judged good. When I arrived at Harper's and was taken out of my shell I spread n.y. self haughtily and cracked a little superciliously under the readers eye. I watched her furtively as she read me. waiting for the glow and sparkle that comes to his face, but hers was as non- committal as the postman's when he brings us back. My, how fast she read, Hope died out of me- and perhaps (my conscience gives me an occasional twinge) 1t was my own fault that I came back to him. But under that expressionless eye, who could sparkle? Who could be light and airy and gay? Not I. The meaning faded out of the short. snappy lines he had written with so much pleasure, the wit became dull, the action slow. l felt heavy and stupid, and tingled all over with sense of being ridiculous and ef- fortful. I could have edged, of my own accord, toward the return envelope; I knew her mind before she read three pages, and I was so mortified, was glad my way to him.
 That's all very well,' murmured Adrian the Musician" "but think of the homecoming. Oh, how l shivered irside the envelope when l came back to him! He held me for a time, looking not at me but straight ahead. So you're not avail able, either, he said bitterly. Then he put me aside, and it was weeks before he broke open the envelope. Oh, how I felt for him. The very sadness that was in me for his suffering must have tinged my lines, for as he read me over"
 He always will,' interrupted "A Cynic's Love Story tits as if he hoped to find the fault the editor had discov- cred"
 As he read his face lost it's personal pain, and when he finished there were tears in his eyes-for Adrian's pitiful story, not for his own."
 Gan you fancy how it would be if one of us were really accepted?" asked Tn O,,r ha little conceitedly.
 "Can wei" they exclaimed in one voice.
 They all began to speak at once. but