The St. Louis Republic. [volume] (St. Louis, Mo.) 1888-1919, 1903-05-31
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WRITTEN FOR THE SUNDAY REPUBLIC

WRITTEN o II SUNDAY REPUBLIC
In this topsy-turvy literary world. where
princes write of peasants and queens ro-
nance about dairy maids: where society
women scribhie learnedly about everything
under the sun Of which they are supposed
by tradition TO know nothing, and where
g~entlewomen go forth in the garments Of
toll. with pins in pocket. wherewith they
may, for sociological purposes. lay bare the
lives of their fellow worker in factory and
shop-in these topsy-turvy days Mary b
Wilkins herself. her books. her house. and,
above all else. the literary life as she lives
1t in the seclus!on of a New Jersey village
are almost phenomenal.
In other words. Nary E. wilkins Is 4 dis
appointment. in that her post u~nsophisti-
Gated reader may not find one Inconsistency.
To begin, there Is the village itself.
Metuchen Is a perfect type of the small
town so familiar to Miss Wilkins's readers.
1t is just such a placid, sleepy. sweet
scented country town as she loves 10 place
her slender hero!nes in.
As one passes through the quiet streets,
shaded by big trees ard greenswarded on
either side. one can well imagine that Miss
Wilkins's Amandas and Beiindas and Je-
rushas are peering cut from behind tho
close drawn blinds. wondering who the
etrange Is.
One can easily imagine that this IS EVA
lina's garden. this big, s'op.ns plot 70 the
side of a small white cottage.
The fragrance of the lilacs. the scarlet Of
the japopica, the fresh. tender green of the
hop ~vines-surely this is Evalina's garden!
Through this dreamy bit of story-book
land, lilac breathing and musical with tho
pipings of spring birds. the cabnan rattles
us ruthlessly, without emotion. and bliss
fully ignorant of the real fame oc the wom-
an to whose house his fares are destined.
Yes. Mrs. Freeman's a mighty fine lady,"
he comments.
She had to be or she'd never been able
Freeman's a mighty fine man-nighty few
ladies good enough for him"
Here the young jehu stopped to point out
some of the civic glories OF MetUchen. and
1t was with difficulty that he was brought
back to the more interesting subject.
He didn't get her down here, though"
he went on to explain.
No. she lived up in New England sons
where, and used to come down In SUMMED
time to visit Mr.. Aleen.
H lives over that w~ay"-hourishlny his
whip.
Mr.. Alden IS an editor OF something to
do with a newspaper OF books.
II don't just know. only they say he
makes heaps Of money. and they ay Mrs.
Freeman used to write pieces for his paper.
and that's how they got to know each
other"
We were now in sight OF Doctor Free
mans home. a roomy white frame cottage
with a queer little veranda IN front. Tho
cabman nodded his head.
KEPT THE DOCTOR
WAITING TWO YEARS.
DO you know" he said, with a sigh of
evaporation; do You know that woman
kept the doctor waiting two years after he
got this house all ready for herr
scs:Women's all alike. whether they be from
NewoEugland or Jersey" .
And with this bitter reflection he ratified
away and left the interviewer to tho manip-
ulation OF an electric bell.
The door is wide open. for 1t is very warm
even in Metuchen on thisb bright May morn
ing. but between the visitor and sanctity of
the authors home there is the barrier OF a
screen door.
Out of the shadowy recesses there comes
an occasional ''clitter-clatter" Of dishes and
the quick. nervous staccato Of q typewriting
machine.
While the hired girl" is 'tidying'' herself
one has a chance to let the eyes wander
over tho neatly clipped lawn, with It's flower
beds. and into the long glass-inclosed room
to the side. where a teatable is spread
among the fuchsias and cInerariss.
At last the clish-clash Of china ceases and
q negro girl in white apron appears