The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1902-01-09
A Changed
Gar0Gr ~ ~
By JULIA TRUITr BISHOP
Copyright, 1901, by Authors syndicate.)
THE three girls sat and stared at
one another in dismay.

of the three, the one with the apron
and the bunch of keys, faced the 9th
ers with a countenance that was still
pale from the conflict.
ITO think of his impudence!" she
cried. did / ever imagine that milk
man would dare to sit in his wagon
and shout at us-absolutely shout
and ask if we were ever going to pay
that bill?"
ooh, it was awful" moaned the girl
with her elbows on the table and the
pen in her clasped hands.
''But still, you know" said the curly
haired girl, with an air of conviction,
eve really do owe him the money
and maybe he doesn't like to wait. You
never can tell what milkmen think on
those subjects. What did you tell him,
Marian?"
81 told him we expected to have the
money in a few days." said Marian, of
the apron and keys. "And so we do,
tiff any of Madge's stories sell"
A general groan went around the
group, and Madge sat with frown on
her brow, biting the end of the pen
staff.
And surely some OF them must
SELL" cried she of the curly locks, re-
turning to her sewing. They can't all
miss"
"And suppose they sell as The Der
elicit dido" said Madge, in her most
pessimistic tones. "That was accept
ed more than a year ago, you remem-
Der. to be paid for on publication-and
it hasn't been published yet"
81 hate these old magazines that
don't pay for a story till the author is
dead from starvation" grumbled Kate,
threading her needle with a jerk
"They'd feel nice if they had to bring
out that story some day, by the Late
Margaret Bertram'-but then just as
likely as not they'd publish a lot of
praise of the promising young author,
whose career was cut short in the very
beginning and so on. But I'd rather
have enough money to pay the milk
man than to have columns of post
morton praise"
"But, oh, Madge, that last story was
so good" cried Marian, the hopeful.
"Somehow, I feel almost sure it will
be accepted"
"I know it was a good story" re-
piled Madge, half musing. 81 felt as
though my very life were going into
that story. 1t seemed almost to write
itself. There was strength in it, and
courage, and inspiration. And yeti
think it will come back"
And even while the others protested
came the postman's whistle, and there
were four large envelopes for Miss
Margaret Bertram, inclosing four re-
jected manuscripts; and among them
was the story which had written it.
self
The three shrinking girls sat and
looked at one another, and seemed to
hear again the loud taunts of the
7nilkman, and the landlords rude com
ments on tenants who allowed their
rent to fall into arrears. They had all
grown pale with disappointment and
with fear of the future; and the young
writer arose and tossed her rejected
stories into a drawer and shut them
up with bitter laugh.
Il wonder whatever made me think
7 could writer" she said. SIT was all
mistake. I have no talent. I am a
mere scribbler. I have been taking
myself too seriously. Don't look so
woe-begone, Marian. And go on with
your work, both of you. I am going
to write something after my kind"
And that evening she read them a
new story; a story at which Kate
laughed in half frightened way, and
CT which Marian said candidIy:
SIT doesn't sound like you, Madge.
vi course it's bright and funny, and
all that-but your last story was beau
tiful!"
'"And didn't SELL" said Madpe.
What is the use of writing beautiful
things? I have a drawer full of them,
and every one of them has Travelled all
over the country. Now I'll try to
emuse the public instead"
And less than three weeks after
wards came the reply, notifying Miss
Bertram that the story was accepted
Enclosing check for $50 and inviting
lul bliGE tOH
Fifty dollars! Oh, impossiblei IT
must be five, or, at the most, fifteen.
But no-tne three heads bent over the
check, and there it was, too plain to
be mistaken. And then the three sis
tiers embraced one another and cried
and laughed, and did more absurd
things than they had ever done since
the struggle for a living had begun
with tSem; and Kate ran around the
room, waving the slip of paper as
though it were a banner. But after
the first gush of gladness was over the
pale young author sat down and looked
at them wistfully.
sit is so discouragiRg. she said. "to
think that all this money has been
paid for the lightest and most incop-
sequential thing I ever wrote"
1T would be much more discoura ginp
if it hadn't been paid a all" said Kate:
and presently the author was dancing
gayly around the room.
"Hurrah for the reign of the frivo-
lous!" she cried "The die is cast. +
will never be serious again"
And so it came to pass that when
the milkman drove up to make sar
eaarfi m vic fo fba,,, l.