The newspaper., 1909-10-08
it in the light OF his cold Judgment.

and impatiently awaited the answer
After what seemed to him an age
he received an acceptance: his first
acceptance had not given him more
pleasure Once more he waited with
feverish anxiety to see the story ap-
pear in print in this magazine that
would mark the zenith Of his fame.
At last his story was printed and
he read IT in gaping eyed. bewilder-
ing amazement- 1t was not his
story at all-it had been rewritten.
Before it was rewritten it was a
prettily worded picture without life;
he had shown the art without the
soul. Someone had given it a soul.
He noted, too, with something akin
to shame, that several of those artis-
tic phrases that he had worked so
hard to express were really bungling
and awkward compared to these
that appeared in print.
His love story was well pictured.
except that he failed to show the
heartache of the disappointed lover
with the genuine aptness of the
craftsman who understands his SUBJ
ject. The soul of some sufferer had
crept into that part Of his story in
few well-rounded and graceful sem
tences, giving it fire and life and real
ism, and they suggested the innate
refinement and modesty OF the soul
of that sufferer. SO that that one
and not himself was the genius.
The truth hurt, but there was a
pleasing, romantic mystery about it
that piqued his curiousity.
He went to the manager of the
magazine and asked him plainly why
his story had been rewritten with
out his permission.
The manager sent him to the chief
reader, who had handed the story'to
him.
He found her alone in IA little room,
seated before a typewriter with man.
uscripts OF aspiring writer's like him
self piled about her
She did not lift her head as he en-
tered and spoke to her
My name is Jack Hartledge: you
handed one OF my stories to the man
ager. ! want to know who re- wrote
that story"
The girl rose and turned toward
him, blushing and smiling.
"ollie Brown never expected to
find you here!" he stammered apollo
getically. She knew by his embar-
rassed. fiu-hed face that he had not
forgotten how he had unceremo-
niously left her. disappointed and
just after she had helped him into
print, too.
And how did you come here?" he
asked absently, while he studied and
reconnoitred his forces.
after | saw your stories in all the
other magazines but this one. had
an offer as chief reader here. and
knowing you would want to enter
this one after a time came here hop
ing to be able to help you" she ex-
planned. dropping her eyes to hide
their mysterious light.
In that moment Jack Hartledge
saw his own seltishness for the first
time I'm his life and. as II by way of
comparison, her own unselishness
began to dawn upon him.
Your work on my story proves
to me that you are genius. s. he con.
fided.
She waved aside the question of
genius as uIinteresting.
"lt was duecedly kind of you to
help me again. after the beastly way
treated you.' he confessed. enthus.
iastically. I'm their old spirit of com
radeship.
That was evidently more interest.
ing: the blood mounted her white
face and forehead. He could have
sworn she was happy.
IL was british. beastly bear to
give you the cold shoulder, and am
no end OF ashamed" he went on.
There was a new tone of sincerity
in his voics she had never heard be.
fore. She lifted her big brown eyes
to his; they were full of tears. She
slipped her face into her handker.
chief. He knew she was crying.
While he stood over her trying to
console and comfort her In f,lt ,