The Prince George's enquirer and southern Maryland advertiser. (Upper Marlborough, Md.) 1882-1925, 1905-12-22
man with the fur collar. He heard
her this time, and turned to- look at

ler.
II beg your pardon" he said in q
clear musical voice, "but can you tell
me where can find public stenog
rapher? l was directed to this floor
Sut everyone seems to be gone.
must get some work done tonight and
am willing to pay any price,
Miss Wright almost smelled roast
turkey then, and she could have
shouted for joy. She forgot ler tired,
numb fingers; forgot everything, in
fact, except that she would have a
Christmas dinner after all.
The man sat down in chair oppo-
site hers, and started to read slowly.
| ooh, l can take dictation faster
than that" she said pleasantly. We
will never get through at such rate. "
he read faster then. Letter after
letter she wrote, each one filling her
with keen pleasure, not unmixed with
pain. They were love-letters from a
man to the woman he loved-loved
just as Miss Wright had always want
ed to be loved. Deep, passionate
words they were always pleading, beg
ging for reply. She wondered how
any woman could receive such letter
as any one of them, and not answer.
Tnen again she wondered how this
man came to have them, and why be
wanted typewriter copies. She be-
gan to long to " the handwriting.
All the time Sue wrote on and on, tap
ping the soulless keys mechanically
The last letter was finished and the
man rose to go.
"How much do owe you?" be ask
ed, taking the letters from her hand.
"Iou may pay me what the work
is worth 10 you,' she responded. 81
am almost paid in the pleasure they
have given me-"
"You think they are well vritten?"
be asked.
"More than that, they are feelingly
written. Nowadays there is 80 little
real feeling, you know, one cannot
help appreciating it when one sees it. :"
The man smiled. "They are writ
ten TO an ideal, not q real woman.
They are simply a literary produc
tion."
He banded her ten do!lars-a dollar
each-and disappeared in wonder
fully short time, leaving her dazed
and puzzled. She again forgot it was
Christmas Eve; forgot she was hun
cry.
Still seated at the typewriter, she
answered the letters that had so re-
Gently been read to her. How easily
she recalled those burning words of
love! First she was calm and shy.
Then she became bolder and answered
the pleadings just as she would have
done had the man of her hearts ideal
spoken to her.
1t was midnight when she had fin
ished. The lights we're going out
and the stiffness in the air frightened
her.
II always suspected l was fool,
now l know it," she thought, gather
ing up the ten letters.
II wonder what l will do with them,''
she said. "Perhaps l can sell thom;
the man said the others were literary
production and might try, too. Yes
| WILL" she continued land I'll send
them off this very night, Or is it morn
ing now?" She had never done any,
thing Of the kind before, but she knew
the address of a certain publishing
house, and she sent them her bundle
of manuscript.
Ten months later all Philadelphia
was talking about the two wonderful
books which had SO recently appeared.
ITO My Ideal," by the popular and
successful Emery Thorne, created nc
more sensation than "My Answers
by an unknown woman, a downtown
stenographer, which appeared the
same day and answered perfectly those
letters in E merry Thorne's book.
At first Mr. Thorne was chagrined
and angry. He understood how it
must have happened, md resented j..
By and by, his curiosity to again see
Miss Wright ma stored his other feel
ings, and be sought her office, hardly
knowing whether she would be there
or not. Her book was selling faster
than his, and she Lad no further use
for her mac ,ine. 1t was Christmas 8
Eve again, and he choose the same
hour he had done before.
II am homesick," womans voice
was saying, "and wish | had never
done it, for he disDises ma I knOWn