Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1899-12-23
SORROWS OF AN AUTHOR

Lets see." mased the famous writer of
short stories when, ona sizzffng afternoon
in July last, he received letter from the
editor of one Of the great magazines in
forming him that tho manuscript Of the
Christmas short story bordered some time
ago must be in the magazine office within
three days. otherwise It would be unavaIl--
able for the Christmas number, which was
already practically made up" Il suppose
I'll have to tackle thar job right now or
lose good check. BynJove. I'd like to be
on boat bound for Greenland! If 1 re-
member correctly, that editor wrote me, in
ordering the story, that he wanted lot
OF christmas atmosphere and that he
uiuh care now thick I spread the 'atmos-
phere on. This is, gorgeous weather to
undertake the distribution of Christmas at
mesphere at the point Of a pen-or the
Keys OF typewriter-same thing-now,
isn Nf hundred in the shade, If it's
one degree above freezing point! l wouldn't
90 a thing right this instant If 1 had a
ea'hihs suit on and the wide, wide sea be-
io,e me! But can't lose that checkr'
90 the famous writer Of short stories let
tne ooId water run in his bath tub put ten
pounds OF Ice or so in it, wallowed around
IN s .he oen LOT whites arrased himself in
suit OF working pajamas and started in
on his Christmas short story. His desk
was py window, from which he could
see the asphalt boiling and bubblinr in the
Sss. Sishs 1u'y sun. The zephyrs that
drifted in through the half-drawn blinds
Tartarus. eA1' A1. tie|eeS VI
If only had time to go down town and
rem lot Of oid frosted grotto scenery
winch to ornament this sizzling room for
lne ume oeing! mumbled the famous
SnoEI story writer, glaucing about him
ne go But to work In the crunching
OF OF sied runners over packed snow, and the
bllnding fnsfstent downfall of the 'bea,,ti
Iui, ana the biting winds and the purpIe
noses' ana the hum of the wintry winds
shis ;nt tne telegraph lines-to squeeze all
uri,s INTO Yule-tide story that is written
mnen pun pups are crawling under porches
OF houses TO escape the Internal heat-oh.
$50, Is aenghtful thing to be one of those
uummed literary .felers, isn't itr'
me famous short story writer went to
ene water cooler, gulped down a couple of
hiasses OF ice water picked UP huge palm
ie ,hi,a ana tanned himself furiously for a
"nIie, ana then went on mumbling.
Il might write EN- Christmas story
toGa.ea somewhere down In the tropics"
SAID ne to himself, vacantly. Little Ma
trsesH nhnsln 1 up their stockings on palm
~ -Dot me Drats don't wear stockings
90 they? No. that won't do. CouIdn,t %,
cate the thing in Maine and saw thai an
UNPRECEDENTED hot wave. swept over the
that Ho, On mat particular Christmas-no,
snarps and the Oldest inha bitants wonId
peusseI 10 20 eat me up, and I'm afraid IFS
ueer Deen known to be more than AZ in
Maine, anyhow 't'''e up III
- ne eminent writer of short Stories cross-
81 oyer 70 another wicker chair thai VAST
Called 1[ On, mopped his perspirng forehead,
room almost suffocated with the be att'it ~
make him piteher-full of Iemonade sn ID
thought some more anu
Lem onade!" And I'm supposed to bs r,,u
Oh the pleasant exhflara ton Of christma
Dno To =
l am anyhow. In this measley story, F,erS
hog! taugh! A man who's even reo,,iSed
We'll w Ihin sa,, a6out eggnog on day like this
footed kid out there, and bonnd fo,. e soi,eo
cooi creek somewhere or other to lust sonse
around IN It, and sozzle, and soak, and keen
eooi, untiI the sun goes down. Yet, I'VE got
10 imagine that imp Whispering ia othsrs
Of his kind about the things Santa CIams
tut' tut, If l even think about that bewhis-
kered old chap, with his melting furs nm
IL IL, ~ dr1ye me-oh, but this is too confound-
ed hne-ladyish altogether! I've lust got to
think up some kind of a Christmas story
ana thats all there is about 1t,
Let's see, III just plant this in some far
northern Michigan village. after the close
OF navigation on the lakes That ia IN
take the father of the family M there he
lore the close of navigation, on important
business that he can't neglect, and then let
nun get caught up there 100 miles or so
from railroad, and no boats running In
Els lakeside home, Of course on account
of the ice and then describe his frantic eff
forts to get back to his children In time
to I'LL their stockings up for Christmas-Iong
sled journey over mountains Of drifted
snow, bowling wolves-all that sort of thing
and fetch him to his home Just in time
to make a break for the toy shops when
they're about to close up-1ow, there's a
lovely, original scenario for a Christmas
story, l don't think By Jove, but my i'm
aginatton is travelling along conventional
lines! Fancy me working bowling wolves
into Christmas storyi Wouldn't that add
to my reputation, though! Wouldn't that
jar you, likewise?'
The short-story author of international
reputation soaked his handkerchief in water
from the cooler. applied 1t to his throbbing
forehead, picked up an afternoon paper
that gave tabulated account of the deaths
from sunstroke that day, looked at the
headlines, laughed weirdly and hoarsely,
and
Here, gentle reader We shall be COM
PEELED to leave the famous author of short
stories, even though he be still laughing
weirdly and hoarsely; stating, however,
that before the moon arose in her glory
on that night he had written more than
seven-eghths of a Christmas short story
that for giacier-like frigidity hasn't been
equaled by any American writer for some
years