St. Tammany farmer. [volume] (Covington, La.) 1874-current, 1902-11-15

I've spent three years in writing my
play; it's not hasty attempt"
When Rising took his leave he car
r'ed the play slowed away in his
overcoat pocket. Margaret had even
convinced him that it might be act
able If well revised by a competent
hand. But that this girl could write
play, unaided, good enough for
first-class theater-the idea was
laughable. A pretty girl of four-and-
twenty, with red-brown hair, clear
gray eyes; bright and clever, I'M
doubtedly, but not clever enough to
succeed where SO many men had
failed.
He looked into it the same even
ing, and decided to have it typewrit-
ten before reading it. Then the first
spare evening he had after it had re-
turned from the typewriter he sat
down resolutely to read it.
Greatly to his surprise, it proved
quite unlike his expectations. There
seemed no trace of amateurism or
schoolgirl sentiment about it; in
brief, it was surprisingly good. The
plot, if not original, was cleverly
treated; the construction was little
open to criticism, and the dialogue
was bright and effective.
whoever would have thought that
girl could write like that?" he asked
himself aloud, in amazement, and a
little envy crept into his voice, for
he, himself, he knew, could not i'm
prove it.. One of his ambitions had
been to be a dramatist himself, but
he was critic enough to know his
own attempts in this line were poor.
| Margaret must have q natural in
stinct for stage writing.
Margaret did not conceal her joy
at his favorable report. II hoped
you would like it," she said, ''for
really I mistrusted my own opinion.
Now, who am / to send it to-"
| "You had better leave that part to
me-"
Indeed, I would prefer to, if it
isn't troubling you too much.''
"Not at all. Well, I shall try Har-
court Dare first. Not only is he the
most likely manager, but know him
personally, and anything I recon-
mend he6will, know, read carefully.
But don't be impatient for results.
1t will be some time before I have
news either good or bad, to report"
One afternoon Margaret went with
her aunt, Mrs. Summers, to a big
afternoon reception. Many nota-
bi]ities in the theatrical world were
present-among them, she was told
Harcourt Dare, the owner of the Ores.
cent theater. She was keenly anx.
ious to see him, and from her seat
watched the crowd, seeking the
lineaments of the well-known actor.
manager.
Presently a man drew near who
looked like him, and the next mo.
ment she knew her guess was cor.
rect, for woman called HIM by
name, and he turned, retraced his
steps, and, stopping in front of Miss
Halston, began to converse. Mar
garet heard every word.
The lady, who appeared to be ar
ardent admirer of the actor, begaI
questioning him on his future thea
trical plans.
"What will you open with after
your summer tour?' she queried
"Are we to see you in Hamlet?"
The actor-manager, who held Mar
garet's literary fate in his hands
smiled and shook his head.
at will come, of course-every actor
manager is bound TO play Hamlet
but not this year. No, my plans have
been recently altered. I had though
of costume playa sword and cape
drama of the sixteenth century-bu1
I've decided that's overdone lately.
shall go back to modern comedy. TX
let you into a secret, I've discovered
new playwright"
20, this is interesting! May ont
ask for more details?"
'It's an open secret. It will be il
the papers in few days. I've &C
cepted for immediate production :
modern comedy I like extremely
It's brilliant piece of work, ant
bound to succeed. It's called al
Impentinent Woman
'And who is the writer?" asked thu
lady. Margaret held her breatl
while she listened for her name
Should she introduce herself, she de
bated. ..
"It's young dramatic critic, Ris
ing by name," said the actor-mana
ger. "a smart young fellow, but
never thought he had it in him to d.
such clever work. He has a future
a great future before him, unless In
much mistaken-but let us find ;
couple of chairs
They walked on, and Margare
leaned back in her chair, white an
!. half fainting. Mrs. Summers, VIII
had hitherto been talking to
friend, happened to turn to he1
'Good gracious, Margy!" she criee
; 'syou look like ghost! What is tn
, matter, child?"
81 feel faint, auntie; the room
badly ventilated. I think l shout
like to go home.' ....
BY sheer strength of will she COZ
! trolled herself sufficiently to wal
I downstairs, and they drove homie
Arrived there, the girl managed t
make light of her faintness, and &c
rid of her aunt, saying she was ge
ing to lie down in her room. Sh
locked the door, and, throwing he1
self on her bed, cried till her eye
were sore and hot and swollen.
It was Herbert's treachery ths
l struck hardest. Had it been anyon
else indignation would have ma
+ tered her, but she was too owe