The Birmingham age-herald., 1904-07-24

from 1s49 draws it's skirts about it's heels imagine me- and-it No 1 did not write any books then. To be literary, that was a mortal sin, crime, in Menlo Park. And l. l was crazy to write. 1 do not re- member the time when l want, but my husband was bitterly opposed to 1t. It was not until comparatively short time ago that l published my first books for I did not write until after my husbands death No. I lived stified, asthmatic, in Menlo Park, among the windbags of Call ifornia. It is full of windbags don't you know. think 1t has the largest percent age of failures of any state in the Union.
 London Is the only place Tt to live in, anyhow. And yet--' Mrs. Atherton walk ed impatiently to the window of her bed- room, "Yet 1 fully inteded never to be- come English at all,'' she cried, ''but I actually find myself looking at every thing and everybody American from the true Britishers standpoint It has been an unconscious change. It is really very funny. However, it Is precisely what wanted and needed for Senator North for all my studies of American politics.
 "Oh politics? Why of course 1t fasci- mates me-more than fascinates me. And I think 1t is indeed as MT. Meredith's Diana says, how is that? It is the first business of men, the school to mediocrity, to the covetousy ambitious sty--to the dullard his ampitheatre, arms of Titans to the desperately enterprislng Olym- pus to the genius. Oh, yes, give me politics bread wine, life-to one.' Ger trude Atherton calmed down again lnto the small rocking chair.
 'Blood and thunder?" she laughed hardly. don't you know. Oh let us abuse California once more. San Francisco has burned me in the market place Perhaps it thought 1t was being Savonoralla-not knowing though that I might be all the jewels and all the art it could ever nave
 But London We get along famously. Do I write here? Oh, dear, no; l have too good a time. When I am writing my books I usually go to a far away out of the way little place, perhaps a pie tureaue little village on the Continent where tourists never come, where nobody speaks English except myself. and there I shut my eyes and my ears and live with my book people. When l get tired-o or writing, I walk, there Is always some ing to see, you know, and there is always beautiful music. Once I was in Canter- bury living in an ancient little low browed house-to tell the truth 1t was dreadfully uncomfortable-but then I had the cathedral Gathering material? How does one always do? Following the dic- tates laid down for us in psychology they come in quite regular order before one-the sensation first, the observation in and out and over and under deep as the eye can delve then the analysis, the ar rangement, simply a mere following of the mental laws-all ever before one word is struck to paper. Who does not who would write?
 NO, I never attempt to write when go to America, to the cities there, Bos- ton, New York, Washington-when doesn one go to Washington? No, merely look, and look twice and look thrice. and by that time I am a veritable Lots wife and must summon a genii to bring me back to London again and dose me with sugar and pour honey over me and make me myself again.
 Why believe. don't you know, that California-and America-think that I'm Dark Ages, whereas T." Gertrude Ather- ton smiled, 1t might even have been a 1 Japanese smile, "I have a sneaking suspi- l cion that am the Golden Age"