The Camden chronicle. (Camden, Tenn.) 1890-current, 1903-06-05

she even thought vaguely OF writing as
a help; she had plenty Of time now.
But she put It out Of her mind quickly.
and went across the way TO visit her
little girl" who had married the month
before.
Even Joe Matthewson. who had him
self been writing for ten years or more,
and connected edltorially with the big
newspapers, even Joe did not realize
that a magazine may carry unpublished
manuscripts In its safe for a period Of
a quarter of a century He had read
jokes about such things, but these he
had considered as exaggerations. Prob
ably some Of the things he had read
we're exaggerated but during his first
day IS assistant editor of the "Juven-
lie" he realized that. after ALL the
comic papers had enlarged less than
he supposed.
In great safe he found bundles of
dusty MSS. some of them very old.
When he ventured to mention the mat
ter to his chief the latter laughed.
Accommodations of the ages" he said.
Most of them good enough once, but
held up for one reason or another un-
I'll they were out of date or didn't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 want little recreation look them
over.
The managing editor had intended
the last remark half in jest, but Joe
being tho new broom" in the Office
was determined to sweep Clean" and
look them over he did.
1t took long while, for there were
more Of them than he had calculated
upon. The oldest one had been there
Eince the first month of the magazines
publications. mistit from the start,
and bought probably in fear that
enough good fits would not be easily
obtained. These things made Joe sad,
for he had tender heart, and being
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, final
ly giving up in despair and perhaps I'M
dertaking some trade or profession in
which the rewards were either purely
material or at least not so long de-
ferred
But the managing editor, who had
grown hardened with time, feigned in
difference. 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. If
they'd kept on writing they'd been
poorer now than when they started. !"
Joe came to the end Of the great pile
one afternoon. The last MSS. bore a
date of twenty-six years before, and
was written in a queer schoolgirl sort
of a hand. The paper was yellow and
ink faded, but the little story of Coun-
try life it told was as fresh and tender
and life breathing today as when the
imaginative, warm FLOODED girl had
been made glad by it's acceptance, and,
lying in the tall grass, and looking up
at the blue sky, and calling herself an
author, found the world was good, be-
cause she believed that somewhere in
it was a high place which she might
one day hope to win.
Perhaps psychologically something Of
all this came to Joe as he sat staring
out on crowded square, that was
no longer a crowded square, but greep
fields and sunlit river of the littl@n. vi vi
gotten tale. serious
Whats the matter, Matthew o peTi
asked the managing editor wa enOd fa
came in and laid the yellow MSS. >suT
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
better thing in the safe, and never
will have"
The managing editor saddened a lit
! tie, too. ooh, we'll, we are all growing
old together" he said; then he picked
up the story and ran his eyes down
the first page, "Why, yes, I remember
this " he continued az Thought this n