Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1901-10-19
ALAS! ONLY A DREAM

lc 0tfuSkiing 1OuHE AQlfkOt pub UOWu
his pen. rested his elbow upon his writing
table and his head in his hand and re-
fiected dreamily.
Well well, he had worked hard No one
could gainsay that, he unused. He knew
that his mother and sisters. away out in
the little far western village, felt that he
was working hard, and that he would one
day become
There was a rap upon the door of his
slenderly furnished garnet room. 1t was
confident, business-like non-hesitant rap
No, thought the Struggling Young Author.
1t did not sound like the rap of the land
lady about to hurtle herself upon him for
the overdue months rent. 1t was the
knock of a stranger, who might-who could
say?-be the means of-and as he said
enter the Struggling Young Author
mind revolved around pleasurable vortex
of anticipation. His visitors were few and
far between, and this was not the manner
OF rapping OF any of them.
AT his word ENTER" the door was quick
ly opened and an elderly man of fine ap-
pearance, with snow-white side whiskers
and a. rosy, good-natured, cherubic face,
walked briskiy in. He was obviously too
well bred to observe the bare-looking ap-
pearance of the room. For half moment
he stood in the center of the little apart
ment and gazed blandiy at the Struggling
Young Author, and then he impulsively
hastily removed the glove.
"Ah," said the fine-looking, elderly man,
cordially, then l at length have the dis
tinction of addressing Mr.. Swiminink. the
brilliant, and for so long. unfortunately.
anonymous, writer of those psychological
romances of old France for my maya
zine?-I am Mr.. Millepresses, you know"
and he handed his card over to the amazed
struggling Young Author. One young man
was so much overcome with establishment
over this visit from the head of one of
the most notable publishing firms on earth,
with its branch Offices in London, Paris,
Berlin and Leipzig. that he could only stare
vacantly at the fine-looking, elderly man.
He possessed sufficient self-possession,
however, to wave his hand toward one of
the two rickety chairs in the room.
Usher, removing his other glove, throwing
open his overcoat and resting his hands
easily upon his gold-headed cane, "you nat
uraiiy feel somewhat curious as to the pur-
proceed at once to the point and tell you
l want to get your name to contract to
write novel for my firm. I am confident
that with your flowing. finished style. your
script of absorbing interest to the lovers
OF fiction, and particularly your intimate
knowledge of the life and manners of the
French people in the middle ages, you will
be able to write novel-a book. say, of
10000 words, which shall have illus
trated by the most eminent artists in the
illustrating professionalism will prove Of
enormous popularity, as well as take its
place as one OF the standard fictional clas-
sizes. want you to make the central char
acter Of the story Francois Villon, the rep
rebate poet Of the fifteenth century, In
whom, as you know, there Is lately great
revival of interest, and of whom you have
already written so charmingly and with
such close information in your short sto-
ries Now, how does this proposition strike
you, my dear Mr.. Swiminink?"
Strike him? The Strugplinp Ynupp Avn
thor's brain reeled at the prospect Here
was the opportunity of which he had so
long dreamed. Here was at length the re-
ward of his long effort to win notice in
the field of literature. Here was-and then
he stopped. So long as he was under the
necessity of writing sketches and short sto-
r1es and essays and book reviews, and of
engaging In all manner of hack work of
that description, and Of devoting his entire
time to that sort of labor for the purpose
OF earning bare subsistence, how should
he ever be able to spare the time to write
long novel of a type requiring such re-
search and study as the plan of the one
submitted to him?
The amiable publisher with the cherubic
countenance noticed his blank expression.
10. II am fully aware" he went on, before
the Struggling Young Author had an OPP
portunity to say anything. that the ex-
acting character of your anonymous work
would preclude the possibility of your un-
dertaking the task I have asked you to
perform unless means were found to en-
able you to abandon that class of work
l have therefore inserted clause in the
contract which l brought along with me
providing for an advance payment to you
OF 5000 before you put pen to paper, and
providing. also, for your maintenance upon
a liberal scale during the years residence
in France during which, as I compute it,
you shall be engaged upon your novel;"
Il Almost rocking with ecstacy, the Strug-
Cling Young Author grasped the famous
publishers outstretched hand and found
fc frv,c nIey y%NNt vo% I1~~~ H.,
what he said. 1t suffices to say that the
Struggling Young Author and The re-
nowned publisher had a long talk. at the
close Of which the former appended his
name to the grand contract, accepted the
publishers check for S.. 900 as an advance
payment upon the royalties to accrue from
his novel when completed, and that, in ac-
cordance with the publishers suggestion.
he made immediate arrangements to sail
for France, where he arrived-taking up
his abode in a superb old chateau in WILLIE
franche-two weeks later after signing the
contract in New York.
All, the joy, the mental exaltation, of
writing that novel amid such glorious sur
roundings. with no sordid thought as to to-
morrow's bread, with all the refinements
of an ideal existence about him, with his
ing the final six months of his work, end
with the frequent assurance from his pub
Usher that the copy" of the novel which
he was turning in in installments would
make him rich and famous.
Then the beginning Of the setting up of
the novel, and the reading of the proofs,
and the visits to Villefranche Of the world
famous illustrators who came to receive
suggestions from the writer for the pic
lures! And, after that, his return to New
York to be present on the announced day
Of publication. and his besiegement by the
literary editors for advance sheets of the
eagerly looked-for book about the scape-
grace Villon! Then the publication imme-
diately followed by the exhaustion of the
first edition of $4,000 copies, and the frantic
demands of the book dealers for all of the
copies of the book that could be run of
the presses by day and night! Then the en-
thusiastic, the unparalleled reviews by the
most eminent reviewers and literary men of
America and Of the world, in which they
hailed the author of the Villon story as the
new master Of English. the legitimate sue
cessor Of e-lamented Robert Louis Ste
'venson!
Then, finally, the scores and hundreds of
letters from publishers all over the world
beseeching him to write something for
them, and offering him his own terms!
Why, the letters were thicker than autumn
leaves strewing the brooks of Vallambrosa,
and the Struggling Young Authors ears
heard the cracking music Of their flutter-
ing as they drifted in, and