The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1906-09-18
Bv MATTE K. NAWN

| Marge treated him to an eloquent
silence. Suddenly she spied the en-
velope and pounced upon it. Then she
flung into the sitting room and Topped
angrily down on the rug before the
fire.
For half an hour she sat there, read
ing and tossing aside the pages. The
loud ticking of the clock on the manteI-
piece sounded with increasing mo-
notony through the long, conscientious
perusal. Finally she sighed.
ut wasn't any good" she confided to
herself. 1T was too long and too
prosy, and the idea was old Still"
she added in self justification, Eve
seen just as bad stuff as that pub
lished"
Her mother entered the room. Marge
looked up at her with grieved eyes.
ut came back" she said in explana-
ton of the pile of paper at her side,
"and they'll keep coming back as long
as stay here. I'm tired of the city
If l could get away into the country
where l could be absolutely alone day
In and day out | could collect nv
thoughts
Her brother chuckled irreverently.
Il could collect my thoughts, > she re-
peated. MY brain is just seething
with ideas, but the moment 1 begin to
write somebody interrupts, and when
get back to my work the inspiration is
oh
terly, there I'm elbow to elbow with
the everlasting economies we're forced
to practice. It's always material
things that receive the first considera-
| tion--it's the coal or the gas or some
thing-all the time If | could get out
into the country for couple of
months, for a month even, where no
body knew me, where there was moth
ing to remind me of the interest and
the water taxes, where | could feel for
once in my life that writing was a rec
reation and not grind, could write
story that would be worth while |
know l could"
Mrs. Dickson stood silent during her
daughters TRADE The look of sympa-
thetic understanding in her eyes gave
place to harmonious twinkle. 'Marge
is very young" she reflected, "and she
certainly was never meant to be
writer"
Marge had been stenographer to a
| successful author, but had lately re-
signed her position, electing to sup
port herself and keep the family in
luxury by writing. Mr. Bergen wrote
little stories without beginning or end.
for which he received fabulous checks
1t was easy. She could 60 it too. She
had written" but her stories had all
come back, and now she demanded to
go away
Mrs. Dickson sighed. ''You were
such a good stenographer," she said
but stopped abruptly at sight of her
daughters face She took refuge I'M
der cover of the previous question"
II don't see how we can manage it,
dear" she said gently. "There are so
many bills to be met and soon the in
surance money falls due. We might let
that stand for a month or so,' she said,
avoiding her sons eyes
perity. "Marge can write here as well
as in the country She rattles on about
the artistic temperament and it's re
quirements' and the proper environ
ment and all such nonsense. I've
heard her at 1t time and again Now,
| don't know anything about the ar
tistic temperament and | don't want
- A.
| requirements and the environment
and that is where the artistic tempera-
ment' has got to sit up and take notice.
AS far as l can see, the artistic tenn
permanent is a constitutional inability
to tuEn brains into money. If Marge
had had any sense she would have
stuck to her typewriting and stenog-
raphy She was good stenographer"
The girls eyes filed With tears.
and" her brother went on, at isn't
too late yet You can write your mas
| terpieces on the side" he added hui
morously. Tell you what, Marge,' he
continued more gently, why don't you
go to work for couple of months and
save enough for this trip?"
Mrs Dickson frightened at the sug-
gestion.
But I've lost my speed" said -Marge
disconsolately.
There was a moments dead silence.
Then her brother strobe out of the
room and slammed the door.
Don't mind him, dear" said her
mother Men are all like that
Shortly after lunch next day the bell
rang and Mrs. Dickson opened the door.
A small boy confronted her.
"They's a telephone fer Miss Dick
son at the drug store. She's to call her
brother up" he said and was gone.
"Marge. oh. MARCEL" called Mrs.
Dickson.
Yes, motherf'
You're to call Fred up at once. The
boy just came with the MESSAGE
Marge came downstairs and took her
hat from the rack.
81 wonder what he wants." she said
and left the house.
Fifteen minutes later she returned,
breathless. Erred met Mr. Roberts at
lunch, and he told Fred he was in an
awful fix. His stenographer had been
taken very i'll and had gone home. and
| he asked Fred if he knew a good girl
who could substitute until she was
well. Fred told him l would help him
out, and it's SIS week. she finished
excitedly.
Her mother sighed, but there was
contradictory twinkle in her eyes. ITS
too bad you haven't kept up your
speed. OF course you won't be able to
take the position" said her mother.
Wont 1? l guess will He wants
me right away It's the Mr.. Roberts"
said Marge lucidly
Mrs Dickson smiled. and you can
go to the country now. dearie," she
suggested.
"Yes if his stenographer only stays
Ill long enough-poor girl" she amend
ed, feeling that her remark was more
! human than humane.