The Jennings daily record., 1902-12-20

carry unpublished manuscripts in it's
safe for a period of quarter of CEN
tury. He had read jokes about such
things, but these he had considered
exaggerations. Probably some of the
things he had read were exaggerated,
but during his first week as assistant
after all the comic papers had en-
larged less than lie supposed.
In great safe he found bundles
upon bundles of dusty MSS, some of
them very old. When he ventured to
mention the matter to his chief the
latter laughed.
Accumulation of the ages" he
said. Most Of them good enough
once, but held up for one reason or
another until they were out of date
OF didn't suit some new policy of the
magazine, or maybe we got something
better in the same line. There might
be some among the old ones that we
could use now, though-old things are
good every seven years, you know.
When you need little recreation look
them over"
The managing editor had intended
the last remark half in jest, but Joe
being the new broom" in the Office
was determined to sweep clean," and
look them over he did.
1t took good while, for there were
more of them than he had calculated
upon. The Oldest one had been there
since the first month of the maga-
| zines publications. misfit from the
start, and bought probably in the fear
that enough good fits would not be
easily obtained. These things made
Joe sad, for he had tender heart,
| and being a writer himself he knew
that the mere money return is only a
small part of the writer's reward. He
could close his eyes and imagine the
ambitious young authors waiting
month after month for the appearance
OF their work, finally giving up in de-
spalr and perhaps undertaking some
trade or profession in which the re-
wards were either purely material or
at least not SO long deferred.
But the managing editor. who had
grown hardened with time, forced in
dinerence. so much the BETTER" he
laughed. The fellows that wrote some
OF those things and quit are most
likely presidents of railroads or life
insurance companies by this time with
salaries of fifty thousand a year. II
| they'd kept on writing they'd have
been poorer now than when they
started"
Joe came to the end of the great pile
one afternoon. The last MS. bore a
date twenty-six years before, and was
written in queer schoolgirl sort of
hand. The paper was yellow and the
ink faded, but the little story of coun-
try life it told was as fresh and tender
and Efe-breathing to-day as when the
imaginative, warm-blooded girl had
been made glad by it's acceptance, and,
lying in the tall grass, had looked up
at the blue sky and called herself an
author, and found the world good be-
cause she believed that omewiere in
it was high place which she might
one day hope to win.
Perhaps psychologically something
OF all this came to Joe as he sat star
ing out on the crowded square, that
was no longer crowded square, but
the green fields and sunlit river of the
little forgotten tale.
Whats the matter, Matthewson?"
asked the managing editor when Joe
came in and laid the yellow MS on
his desk. "You don't look WE'LL
| I'm not. I'm heartsick at the
thought of the girl who could write
that story waiting and growing old
without seeing it printed. We haven't
a better thing in the safe and never
will have"
| The managing editor saddened
little, too. "Oh, well, we've all grown
old together he said; then he picked
up the story and ran his eye down the
! first page. why, yes, / remember
this" he continued. II thought it
| charming piece of work at the time,
! and wrote to the author for more She
| never sent anything else, and for that
| reason hesitated about using this.
| feared it might not be original. The
handwriting is rather girlish, you see,
and was young then and couldn't az
| ford to get caught. Then by and by
| l forgot it. No doubt it was all right.
And l wish we could get stories like
| it to-day. l suppose the author died
or married or something"
Perhaps" said Joe. but I'd stake
my life on it being her own work
Suppose we try the old address,"
| Half way across the street she met
the postman, who handed her letter.
She recognized the envelope of the
| Juyenile-a notice probably of their
expiring subscription. She would let