Little Falls herald. [volume] (Little Falls, Morrison County, Minn.) 1889-1950, 1900-04-06
MY TURN OF. LUCK.

l was Il 'he:nber of the corps of friend
ly yisit5rs for the associated charities
one winter, in my rounds l made
some curious friends.
Among them were Mr. and Mrs. Spar
row, an old couple who had known PROS
perity in other days. They had been en-
| riched by the silver boom at Virginia
| City in the remote days of her greatness,
| but their mine had filed with water ow-
ing to their bad fortune in encountering
an underground stream, and they had
been ruined. The mine was still there.
but it would take $4,000 to get it in
| working condition.
"And that money will never come to
! u.s. said old Mrs. Sparrow sadly II
| have knowledge of that. 1t has been
told me-
'You are fortunate if you have friends
who can look into the future" l replied
| lightly. She reproved me gently.
"You speak ignorantly," she said.
"And it is natural that you should. But,
| unlikely us it may seem, have friends
| who can see into the future even as they
| can remember the past from the begin
| ming of time"
confessed.
on which she was sitting and lifted out
both arms full of closely written manu-
script. These she put upon the well
cleaned deal table. She laid her hands
! reverently upon them, and then, looking
me straight in the eyes, she said in her
queer little singsong voice:
"Nights when I and my husband sit,
here lonely, remembering how we have
been bereft Of all that makes life DEAR
peculiar comfort comes to us. For the
| room is filed with the spirits Of the dead.
all eager to know us. Some Of them are
simple people, but others have been great
in the worlds history. Some of them
died only few days ago., but others
have been dead thousands and thousands
of years. We had one man here who
helped to build the pyramids. These peo-
pie are all grateful to me for helping
them to return to earth. They say that
the living are selfish and few of them
ever help the dead to return. And then.
to help Mr.. Sparrow and me pass the
time, which sometimes hangs heavily
upon our hands, they tell us stories"
'"Tell you stories! Do they speak," I
interrupted.
"No, not audibly. But sit down at
the table. take a pencil in my hand and
write the words that come to me. The
most wonderful tales are told ME! Old
mysteries which historians have puzzled
over have been solved for my amusement:
I have been told of the most ancient
things and been given insight into recent
scandals. And here in these many pa
pcrs are all my wonderful stories written
down.
'Rut why don't you sell them?'' in
quired promptly. being Of a practical turn
of mind. us there any need for you to
be SO poor with all these in yonr head?
The world wants good stories and is will
ing to pay for thcu1."
ut would be a sacricSc." she cried. her
old checks flaming. ''Do you imagine 7.
would so hetray the confidence Of my
friends"
I could not persuade her to hold any
other view. Nor would she even read the
stories to ME.
::Rut when de- she added. ''thcy
shall be yours. You are a writer, and
yo, will be able to get some ideas from
them. have perfect confidence in you.
and I know that you wifi never use the
true names Of the persons who figure in
these narratives
''Rur will not some of the stories lose
ton. Mrs. Sparrov?"
:'I'he dead are dcfcnSc'ess'' she rcplir,I.
''Thcre is even moro occasion for bci,ts
loyal to them than to the living"
I had talked about the matter ont OF
polite Indulgence merely. I had not an
| idea that the sketches had the slightest
value. They were. without doubt opn
| ed the verbose maundcrings of this lone
! " OLD cre8tjlrc's BRAIN
The associated charities kept Mrs. Spar
| row and her failing husband supplied
! with necessa ries all that winter. aud had
| thoughts of advising that in the spring
they be sent back to old friends in tho
| west.
| But they frustrated my amiab,c plan
| by dying within Il week Of each other.
| both of pneumonia It was I who saw to
! their burying and the erection Of a littl"
wooden headstone which bore their
| names And it was I who saw t" tho
distribution among ncighbnrS equally
poor of their pathctical1y few effects.
As for the black chest with the mann
scripts, kept that for myself. az I ia''
been given permission to do.
! L was an unknown writer then. / de-
| served to be unknown, l SUSPECT. for.
while I possessed an eager Impulse for
writing, I lacked originality. My imHg-
nation was hampcrcd with convention
| al point of view. stood for the usual,
the approved, the desired.
Now I have reputation as tho writer
Of singular and haunting stories. My
name is identified with all that is in
genious. weird and mysterious in litcra-
ture. l know well that my name has
only to appear in the prospectus of a
ma gazine to increase the sale of that Is
sue extraordinarily. The announcement
Of novel by me me:,ns that the first edi-
ton will be sold before it leaves the
press. But cannot say that ! am hap
py. Indeed l sometimes think Of myself
as the most miserable of women.
For my reputation is not honestly won.
The work for which have received this
credit and fame is not mine. 1t Is the
work of many who have passed into
spirit land.
And when l meet them there, as sure
" must some day, how shalt be re-
ceived ?-Chicago Tribune.
Buying BOY by the Bushel.