Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1899-03-24
HER FIRST STORY.

This story will have a special interest 10 many
readers Of The Phoenix, who are acquainted with
the author, Mrs. Adelaide Davis Reynolds Yer.
non girl who was formerly a newspaper worker
in Brattleboro Mrs. Davis is now resident of
Dover Del The story appeared in n recent mum.
Der of The HOUSEWIFE
1t was a sad little story of Loves ssweet
bells tangled, and she had written it in n
glow OF tender eXaltation. Once there had
been a love story in her own life, but it had
ended unhapplly; and the loneliness and
longing III her heart had overflowed into
TINS story OF the love OF two commonplace
people.
Writing had always been her natural
outlet OF expression. But, although her
aimless scribblings had been pleasant She
had lately aspired to write a real story
good enough to be printed and paid for
So she wrote of what she most deeplv felt
By and by, the tumut of creation mast
she laid worldly plans for her story She
copied it neatly, and made out a long list
of possible publishers. She already knew
something of the many phases of tnavail
ableness; but she believed in her story and
meant that sometime, somewhere il should
be given to the world
year passed. The story had Travelled
patiently down the list Sometimes IL Ind
met with kindly commentator. but II had
always been rejected. ut il too sad.n ono
editor had said, make it end more cheer
fully" But the author shook her head
III must tell the truth, " she said gravelv.
Glove is sad"
AS last resource, she took her manu-
script to the editor of struggling weekly
in her own town. He told her tnet his ns-
per printed stories from plates. and could
not afford to do otherwise. "Still ~ he
add d, ''since you are local writer. |
should like to use your story
Two days later he called, and abruntlv
offered two dollars for the story. For a
moment she recoiled Indignantly; then A
new thought, gladly exultant, obscured all
others. Her story-her first story-would
oe published She caught her breath
sharply. "You may have it," she said.
Two weeks afterward a strange woman
Knocked at her door. The visitor was
plainly and unfashionably dressed, and
seemed agltated and embarrassed She
advanced awkwardly TO where the author
stood, and twisted her fingers together as
she spoke
BE you the woman that wrote that story
IN last weeks Newst Wen, I've hunted
you up a-purpose 10 thank YOU for writing
=
the only paper we take, an we never'd ha'
read it anywheres else: an it's reconciled
'LiJah an me. We been kinder out for a
long time one thing and another KEEP com
ing up to make things worse, till last week
l decided to leave him. couldn't stan it
to live so-not speaking to each other half
the time, an feeling so hateful The min
lster, he argued with me, an the children,
they cried-they're good children, Jim an
susan bean felt it terribly-but twant
no use. was bound n determined to 20.
'Lilah, he Just grinned, kinder sarcastic.
and said Good radiance
But your story witched me all up.
Them old times, when 'Lijah an me was
counting, come back TO me like a flash.
could see his smilin' blue eyes Just as they
useter look, an the little curl that al'ays
dropped down on his forrud; an could
smell them pinks of mothers lust as plain
as day. They grew down by the gate
where we useter stan an talk. evenings
Then looked over where 'Lijah set by
the winder, an | see how gray an tired an
round shouldered he looked. an felt like
taking him right into my arms, like baby.
Why, he's my own husban', | said to my
self, kinder surprised, the idea of turning
against him, now he's oldn | loved him
more tender like than ever befo.
Il had my bread 20 set, an when ome
out OF the but'ry, | sect 'Lijah' been read
ing the story too. He was trembling all
over, an tears stood in his eyes. We Just
looked at each other a spell, an then he
said kinder low, Mother an | said
Father Twas all could say-but-we
both understood. You don't know how
happy father an | be God bless you
fort"
The woman had come close. and was
holding the authors hand and smiling
through tears. And the author could
scarcel speak, for something, half JOY, half
pain, choked her.
Madam she said gently, God sent
you that little story of mine. For whole
year | tried vainly to place it elsewhere.
You see it was not meant for money, but
for loye,-oh, am well paid,-I only ask
you TO guard your treasure-such a treasure
as some would gladly lose the world to gain
but may not ~
The woman looked at her and hesitated
Her faded face grew sweet with compass
sion. -wish't-you-wa as-happy-
as we be" she said family.
She fingered at the door a moment in
silence.
-. "Good-by," she said, and the word was
like benediction.