The Yale expositor., 1906-08-03
Der
Masterpiece
BY MAIZE K. NAWN
By MAIZE K. NAWN
Copyright, 1893, by Ruby Douglas


fishing Company" He smiled IN broth
erly derision.
"Oh. Marge" he called. II guess
this is your manuscript. Back from
Barber's," he added maliciOusly.
Marge went to the door OF her room
and called down irritably:
"WeI, you needn't publish it,
mo; 1t would be better IL they did,
flung back her brother.
"It's funny" he unused, but the
things you don't want published are al
ways getting into print. and the things
you want to see In print end up in the
masterpiece trunk" This In reference
to an old box i'm which his sister was
wont to deposit her illusions after they
had gone the rounds.
Marge came downstairs, digging her
heels ylciously into the carpet at each
step.
"Where is IT," she asked.
With an obvious desire to be as an
noying as possible her brother replied.
"Wheres whatY'
Marge treated him TO M eloquent
silence. Suddenly she spied the en-
Velope and pounced upon 1t. 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 tickiug Of the clock on the mantel-
piece sounded with increasing mo-
notony through the long. conscientious
perusal Finally she sighed.
1T wasn't any good" she contided to
herself. 1T was too long and too
prosy, and the idea was old. STILL"
she added in self justification, 1--WE
seen just az bad STUFF as that pub
lished."
Her mother entered the room. Marge
looked UP ut her with grieved eyes.
"It came bneh." she said in eXplana-
ton OF the pile OF paper ut her SIDE
"and they'll keep coming back NJ long
as / stay here. I'm tired Of the city
If could get away into the country
where could he absolutely alone day
In and day out | could collect my
thoughts
Her brother chuckled irreverently.
II could collect. my thoughts" she re-
peated. "Aly brain is just seethine
with ideas. bit the moment ] begin K
write somebody interrupts, and when
get back To my work the inspiration is
gone. And" she added somewhat bit
terly, here I'm elbow 10 elbow will
the everlasting economies we're forced
to practice. It's always materia
things that receive the first consldera
tion-it's the coal or the gas or some
!, thing-all the time. If could get on
into the country for couple o.
months, for month even, where no
body knew me, where there was moth
, ing TO remind me of the interest an,
the water taxes. where could fael 70
once in my life that writing was a rec
reatlon and not u grind, l could writ
1 a story that would be worth while.
: know / could"
y.
daughters TRADE. The look of sympa
" thetlc understanding In her eyes CAV
i place to a harmonious twinkle. "Marg
. ls very young" she reflected, land sh
/, certainly was never meant to be
Z writer"
5 Marge had been stenographer to
+ successful author, but had lately re
signed her position, electing to SUI
a port herself and keep the family i
= luxury by writing. Mr.. Bergen wrOt
e little stories without beginning or enc
I for which he received fabulous check:
! 1t was easy. She could do 1t too. Sh
had written" but her stories had a
come back. and now she demanded
20 away.
9 Mrs. Dickson sighed. "You wer
s such good stenographer," she salt
S but stopped abruptly ut sight of he
e daughters face. She took refuge III
?. der'cover OF the previous question"
II don't see how we can manage
d dear" she said gently. There are s
y many bills to be met and soon the II
d surance money falls due. We might Il
that stand Tor mOnth OF 50, sue Sd'
! avoiding her sons eyes.
:. 1--WE can't do that" he said with a
10 perlty. "Marge can write here as we
/. as I'm the country She rattles on abo'
IS the artistic temperament and its r.
X auIrements' and the proper environ
ment' and all such nonsense. ~
# heard her at it time and again. NOV
d don't know anything about the a
If tistic temperament and ] don't wal
L 20, but up to date I've furnished Il
s, requirements and tho 'enyironmen
u and that Is where the artistic temper
- - ment' has got to sit UP and take. motto
~ As far as 1 can see, the artistic tel
( permanent is a constitutional lmabili
p to turn brains into money. IL Mari
ID had had any sense she would ha'
he stuck to her typewriting and steno
n raphy. She was good stenographer
II The girls eyes filed with tears.
?, "And," her brother went on, ut Isl
y too late yet. You can write Your ma
" tcrpleces' on the SIDE" he added b
ir morously. Tell you what, Marge,"