The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1905-05-02

sort of thing they send me. 1 wish 1
knew what it is they like about your
stories.''
why, nothing specially, DEAR" re-
piled his wife. She wiped her arms on
her apron that she might put them
about his neck without soiling his shirt.
you write ever SO much better than 1,
only I've been at it longer. You mustn't
get discouraged. You'll strike it in
time"
Time! I've been at it two years.
No, Stella. 1 guess it's city desk and
twenty week for mine for the
rest of my life. What's the odds any
way?"
In the face of such hopelessness as
this Stella felt her presence worse than
useless. She put up her rosy lips to be
kissed and went back to continue her
struggle with the coffee cups She had
seen Anthony down" very often Of
late, and she had recognized in this
heartsickness the one malady of which
she might not even try to cure him.
Her attempts indeed seemed only to ir-
ritate and annoy the big, square
chinned fellow, whose defeat was so
much the harder for him to bear be-
cause of her success.
Anthony loved his wife, as great
many everyday men still do, in spite Of
the quibs and jests of the comic pa
pers. He had thought her the daintiest
and brightest of little women when he
married her, and his greatest delight
had come with the contemplation of
the things he would do for her when
he got there" That he would ulti-
mately get there" he had never doubt
ed. The newspaper on which he work
ed had printed three or four of his ro-
mances, and scores of his friends had
complimented him on their cleverness.
Surely the magazines ought not to be
difficult after this!
AS matter Of fact, they had proved
not only difficult, but impregnable
Manuscript after manuscript was re-
turned to him, always with thanks"
and printed slip. Stella, on the other
hand, had received So for her very first
story, a fable intended for children,
and had sold nearly everything that
had come from her pen since. This
had not been so humiliating, for Antho-
ny naturally looked upon fairy tales
with some contempt, but lately Stella
had found a steady market for humor-
GUS verse, and humorous verse her hus-
band considered his forte. The fact
that he was fond Of her and wanted
her to be proud of him made her prog
ress merely the more a reproach. 1t
was he who must be proud of her now
he, Anthony Matthew, six feet one in
his stockings Somehow those six feet
were the browning aggravation.
There was no denying that, notwith-
standing his superior height, Anthony
| did not write half so well as Stella.
His work lacked the grace and point
| of hers, and he conceded it. A bur
lesque sonnet which she had finished
the night before lay on the desk beside
a long envelope addressed to the ED
| itor of the Decade" Anthony had read
the verse twice. and he knew that it
was better than anything he had ever
done. The Decade would print it, and
| the boys at the office would say: Saw
poem of your wife's this morning. l
should think you'd go in for magazine
/ work some yourself old man."
Stella's fresh young voice made itself
heard above the clatter of plates in the
i room adjoining. "The Good Old Sum-
mer Time" had given way to "Beda-
| lilo AD+bo,1- ,,a,,sod toidipo, +I,e WAN
uscript, to listen:
''Oh, Bedalia, 'Dalia, 'Dalia,
I've made up my mind to stale We;
Oh. Bedalia, Bedalia, dearH'
Mere association of words shot q
sudden impulse into his brain. The SON
net was in his hands, the addressed en-
velope was before him-why shouldn't
this contribution go to the Decade over
his signature? Its appearance as his
composition would be in the nature Of
a triumph, and Anthony felt that he
had earned a triumph of one kind or
another. al saw a poem of yours"
they would be compelled to remark at
the office. And Stella? Why, Stella
could gain nothing by the use of her
| udllt Will lu6 feI6e-uOlulLS DuL q
few dollars, which he could easily
make up to her in allowance. Anyhow
Stella was his wife, and what belonged
to her belonged to him. If she knew
what he was going to do she wouldn't
care. She would be glad that he had
found way to be happy.
Anthony seized the pen at his elbow
and signed the poem In a firm, round
hand; then he folded the paper, placed
! it in the envelope and sealed it. Stella
heard him open the door of the apart
ment and came out to ask where be
was going ITO mail your stuff to the
Decade" he told her. "Pi be right
back"
But he didn't come fright back. -
Once the envelope had been dropped In
the box his guilt threw away its mask
and rose to face him. He realized as
suddenly as the temptation had come
to him that he was thief. The paltry
excuses through which he had looked
at his act melted under the glaring
eyes of an accusing conscience, and he
dared not return to the tender gaze OF