River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1902-02-20

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Not very pleasant sensation"
"Not exactly. Makes me feel like
sympathizing with that poor devil,
Cyrano, after he had been wooing his
sweetheart in Christians name"
That's a pretty scene-that balcony
scene in 'Cyrano de Bergerac,'" Han
nah commented, beginning to glory a
little in the grip she was keeping on
her atmosphere.
"Yes; I suppose So" he assented.
SAT any rate, it is true what he says
about it being sin in love to play at
fencing"
Nonsense. Tt is an absolute neces-
sity"
"To fence in love?"
eyes. Why, where would we be if
it was a matter of straight cut and
thrust, and no feints?"
eve might be happy"
"We would most probably be bank
rupt. The sum and substance of a
love story is the fencing"
Glove story? Oh, love story. Yes,
dare say it's eminently necessary.
Does it never strike you as cold-blood-
ed, making copy out of the most sa-
cred sensations of the human heart"
''To tell the truth, the adjectives tor
ment me so that haven't time to think
whether the sensa lions are sacred or
profane. [ know what mine generally
are by the time l get the thing in
shape
eyes; profane."
swell, in one sense she admitted.
"Not exactly wishing you could hire
man to swear but-tel me how do
you writer's go to work on a story?"
ooh, I don't know. Of course, we
first create an atmosphere"
''That means?"
'Why, it means. 1T means that you
have to satisfy your mind with the
matter you are going to work on and
get yourself into the mood you are
going to exploit. If you want to de-
pict a vicious character, you've got to
be vicious.''
''For the time being. begin to see.
Go on
''Why, there is nothing to go on.
That is all there is to it."
Morris twisted his mustache
thoughtfully. Hannah moved her seat
so that she might watch the wind
tossed pines. Really if he expected to
reach home before the storm broke
he ought to go at once, she thought.
But Morris showed no intentions of
going. He was face to face with an
uncertainty, and he meant to win out
or lose.
"Tell me more about your work" he
asked. II find it interesting"
''There is nothing more to tell" she
insisted
'There must be-" You have not told
me how you get up your characters.
Do you study them from life or mag
Gomez"
ooh, any way. After you get your at
mosphere the characters will develop
themselves"
"Then creating the atmosphere is
the tough end of the job?"
"Creating it and keeping it until you
are done with it-yes You see moods
are hard to manage"
This time Morris did not make the
mistake of telling her to go on. He
merely nodded and looked interested.
"Did you ever try to keep yourself
in one frame of mind all day?
81 have done it for a year."
''Is that so? How?" He looked at
her and smiled little.
''I had some one to help me-
Hannah moved abruptly and looked
-
pines had ceased their tossing and
stood silent and solemn, awaiting the
downpour of rain lowering over them.
Where now was that suggestion of
unyielding strength resistless, Sc
rene? Hannah felt her carefully-cre
ated atmosphere slipping from her,
and wall of disappointed ambition
began to we'll in her breast.
''It is going to RAIN" she remarked
"See how still the trees are
"I see. The big fellows like to bluff,
but they know how to take their medi
cine"
"But aren't you afraid of getting
wet?"
"Why, does this roof leak?" He
smiled at her disconnected expression.
She was beginning to be herself once
more, and his spirits rose with rush.
''Do you want to get back to your
work SO badly as all that?" He took
restless turn through the room and
paused beside her. IF you will prom
Use to do something for me I will go
home and let you work in peace"
He gazed quietly at the motionless for
est, but his voice deepened.
Hannah's atmosphere suffered
swift change of currents.
ST don't know" she muttered.
"But you will try" he insisted. "See,
there is the rain
They stood silent for a moment
watching its approach. At first faint
white streaks stealing up the forest
vistas, then an Opaque whiteness con-
cealing the distant trunks, leaving the
pine tops blurred and misty. The
breath of the air grew wet and fra
grant, the foremost trunks lost all