The evening times., 1899-05-27

but Aleck didn't notice it. He was full Of
a new idea.
"Ruggles called to me today as I passed
his ROOM" he said, land asked me why
| didn't go in for short story writing. My
sketches showed had talent that way. 1t
was good deal for Ruggles to say.
told him had never thought of it. Any
way, 1 couldn't carry a story to compile
tion. Brain fag and lack of industry
would knock 1t out in no time. No. my
dear, your handicapped Aleck will con-
tinue to swing around the reportorial orbit
and leave this story writing to the fellows
| with perseverance and pull
But Rose only laughed.
So the summer passed and the fall wore
along, and 10. Christmas was close at
hand. 1t would be the second Christmas
Day that Rose and Aleck had enjoyed to-
gether. II was Rose who recalled the i'm
portant fact.
THE other one was so closely mixed up
with our honeymoon that it quits lost its
IDENTIFY she said.
Every day was Christmas with US
then" sang Aleck to a barbarous tune of
his own invention.
1t was the day before Christmas and
Aleck came home in a state OF mild ex-
citement
Two queer things happened at the ofice
today he said. Just as l was leaving
tonight old Rugsles called to me as 1
passed. 'Hullo. Aleck, he said. 1 see
that you have found time. and he "inked
at me in a most singular manner. Capt.
tai. tco,' he shouted after me. as 1 hur-
ried along. What do you suppose he
meant?"
Rose was busy at the table and only
shook her head.
And then," continued Aleck, "as pass
ed down the stairs l met Nichols. our book
reviewer coming up. his arms Overlowing
with books as usual It's rare. indeed,
that he ever mods to me. but this time he
peered over his glasses and actually stop
ped. It's Mr.. Alexander Dawson, isn't it?'
he cried in his shriil voice Glad to know
you sir. It's good. very good. indeed. I'm
going to say SO. A merry Christmas to
you, Mr. Alexander Dawson, and to Mrs.
Dawson and all the little Dawsons, and
he chuckled and passed on
"A very rude person. said Rose, with a
red face. What do you suppose he
meant"
Haven't a blessed idea. He doesn't
drink, so he's either getting queer. or
he mistook me for somebody else. But it
seemed funny. coming right on top Of
what Ruggles said
He paused and looked around.
Did" he began, wheh Rose inter-
rupted him
YES, yes" she cried, they arrived all
centre-table! Just what We needed. Thank |
you SO much. dear" And then she thank |
ed him in the good old way.
1t was pleasant little supper; so pleas |
ant that Aleck forgot all about the blue |
pencil grievance. When it was finished he |
leaned back and laughingly asked: do |
we enjoy the customary authors reading |
tonight?"
NO" said Rose. "our holidays COM
q low oh a |
down. We will illuminate the reading
room tonight for a change. Now wait.
Sir, while | light up" She hustled into
the parlor ard presently called him. The
new centre table. fanked right and left |
by the new chairs, stood out in all its glo
ry. Beside the lamp lay a square package.
Alexis gaze fell upon it.
Your Christmas present, dear" mur-
INJURED Rose.
He tore off the wrapper impatiently.
"A book. That's fine" he said as he
drew a neat volume from its paper sheath
and held it up. "wh- VIII what's this?" he
quickly stammered:
BLUE PENCIL STORIES,
Alexander Dawson
He was dazed.
.'Why-what, You blessed angel. what
does this mean?"
he ShipPSu iioAi page W PoSc "iau coSSi
eyes and trembling fingers. Yes, yes. they
are mine. but-but-I am sure / never
wrote them"
You told them. dear" said the trium-
phant Rose. You told them in the gloam-
ing, you know, and / took them down
word for word in shorthand. And the pub
Usher liked them so much. and you are to
have a royalty on every copy sold,
and"
What" cried Aleck. ''is that what
those busy fingers were doing in the twi-
light? Why, Rose, dear. you are crying
again.
But they were only tears of joy. and II
was very happy little author that kissed
them away.
For the blue-pencil spook was laid for
ever.-Cleveland Plain Dealer.