El Paso daily herald. (El Paso, Tex.) 1881-1901, 1900-01-04
NOT FOR PUBLICATION.
An Author Gets an Inspiration
From an Unexpected
Source.


what a'lifew repeated the man tc
himself with almost a writhe. Making
bricks without straw all the year
round. L wish-there, 1 wish to God
I'd never learned how to writer
And yet it had paid him in solid coin,
SO far. One of his minor dreams was
realized; the window of his writing
room overlooked a suburban roadway
along which Earring wheels seldom
ratified; he a got away from the
whir inc drone of the town, where his
nerves had beer at a tension all day
long. He could compose in peace. And
yet he sat with the bitter, idle stare.
clutching a dry pen.
The door behind creaked; a woman
glided in on tiptoe. Don't start-it's
only L." she whispered.
Don't START" He threw down the
pen without turning. Its all starts
or the strain of expecting them. I'm
sick of it, l tell you-sick of it all"
what is the matter?" She had paus-
ed half way, with hands together.
"Can't you writer"
write! Nv nothing to write. I'm
drained dry. And L promised a tragic
story"-with a half sneer-"for that
Society Sun. TragicI What's the
timer"
"It must be nearly g."
six? Dark in another hour-dusk
now! I'VE done nothing. And you-you
never attempt to help me-, by so much
as a wOrd!'
Never help you?" she echoed; and
repeated it to herself. 81 never help
himI But when have you asked UGH a
thing? What good would be my ideasT"
ooh, not much. Women seldom have
real ideas. They're fitting superficiali-
ties. Still
A long silence. The door creaked
again, but he knew she had only closed
it and was still lowering behind him.
was somewhat surprised, but would
not turn, vaguely conscious of the
sneer'S ~hollownesS- Then
81 never help you" she repeated
calmly. "Would you like me t o try?
Perhaps something has just come into
my mind. 1t is silly, maybe, as 1 tell
it; but you, my husband, might make
it clever and interesting. You say
your stories are always twaddle as you
first set them down."
~ 'Shy "id 10 IL hS oAS
staring across at the opposite roofs.
situation is novel. Go on. Never
mind as long as there is anything at all
In it."
"There is-there is a woman's heart
In it, 1 think" she whispered. "Is that
any good?"
oh" he said. Her voice a tailed
off as if she had a real idea, but was
- <,-;I - 49, 1900 GTIyNIl ,--
ly is; that's one of the omponent
parts of the average story. Even humor
is the brighter for tragedy lurking in
the background, you know. Anything
In the heart? That's the point Yes;
anything in this hearth"
Another silence. Couldn't l tell you
Just as it came to me, then?" she said.
I'm not clever enough to know. It's
more of a sketch, perhaps. II imagin-
ed two lovers, very dear lovers. They
got married, and there was a beautiful
world before them, with such peace
at the end, if they knew! Make the
an artist. He lived for his art.
The girl-the girl was only just a girl;
she lived for the nan She hung on
his every word, you might say; she
prayed for his success when he was
never there to hear, thought for him
In ways that he would never know and
checked her singing and moved softly
so that he should never be disturbed at
his work. You're not writing. Is it so
silly ?"
go on" he whispered. There
there's nothing to write yet"
THAT went on for years. The man,
deeper II deeper in his work, never
that his wife was changing, that
the light had gone out of her eyes,.
He forgot all he had meant to be-for-
got after a time even to kiss her. and
he girl-she could never bring herself
% remind him-eh? She still lived
,nly for him, out he ever cared what
wore, never thought that her work
be hard in it's little way, and
there are some women for whom
ears of such silence and loneliness
IpellS death-Or worse. She was al
Ways crying at first and never dared to
ell him why if he did not see for him
and kept out of his way so that
lis mind should not be spoiled for
york. And he-say that he thought it
vas something else and spoke harsh
= and sneered n at last got SO that
Ie lived in a world of his own and
wouldn't open his door when-when he
new that her heart was bursting out
longing for one kind word again.
)r-or-something like that. Gould you
egin anything with that?"
No answer. She could not see, but
mans outward stare was as if it
yould never again relax. She went
n a little faster, her voice taking a
as though his silence i'm
lied that there might be real dramatic
disabilities in her small inspiration.
81 think my husband could-yes! The