Audubon County journal. (Exira, Iowa) 1884-1993, 1909-11-18
A Literary
Exchange

New York Squeeze and paid for at
column rates? All, how we'll she re-
membered the day the man at the pay
window had handed out an envelope
containing enough coin of the repub-
lie to buy that marked-down elastic
belt. How fair were the visions Dull
cinia conjured up of fame, glory and
silk petticoats, of applause and popu-
larity, when she should be a house
hold word among all readers of mod
ern fiction. AS she walked down Mas
sau street from the Squeeze office she
could feel that people glanced at her
with sort of intuitive awe, sensing
in some subtle fashion that she was
an actual contributor to the public
prints-a being superior to themselves,
who were mere toilers in realm of
commonplace things.
Dulcinia went home and took her
fountain pen in hand She wrote
soulful story, re-copied it nicely and
took it down to the editor of the
Squeeze. He was anice editor, though
his desk was very untidy and had
great many pigeon-holes full of things,
great many piles of photographs and
manuscripts on it and very sizeable
waste-paper basket off to one side.
Above his desk was a sort of annex
consisting of more pigeon-holes and
a lot of shelves-all piled full Of
we'll, Dulcinia wasn't quite sure what
they were full Of
He finally finished, laid the manu-
script on his desk beside the glue pot
and coughed. Dulcinia's eyes were
fixed searchingly upon him with a
great deal of temperament showing
through. The EDITORS smile was most
polite, also the editorial shake of the
head. Could it be possible he didn't
like it? This had not occurred to
Dulcinia, because she knew it was a
soulful story; besides, it was true
story. and very beautiful story.
1T is not just suited to our needs"
said the editor, in nice. even tone.
The next time she tried something
humorous. She couldn't help giggling
at 1t herself as she re-copied it, and
her mother laughed till she had to
take off her glasses when she read it
to her She pictured an editorial con-
vulsion when she should take it down
next day.
She watched him out of the tail of
her eye as he read it. After noting
his expression few minutes she be-
gan to think she had brought him the
wrong manuscript by mistake. If he
had been reading notice of the bank
ruptcy of the Daily Squeeze he could
not have looked more gloom-stricken.
He didn't take the story. Dulcinia sat
stupidity staring at the collection of
dusty manuscript on the supplement
tary shelves over his desk and wished
they would fall on him.
| When she reached home that night
she found the soulful story returned
from the magazine whittier she had
mailed it. Also a poem, accompanied
by a printed rejection slip, from an
other periodical. If those two para
graphs had been good enough for him
to accept and pay for, why couldn't
he appreciate the other things-that
were so much better and would take
up so much more room?
| She tried again, and again he de-
clined in pleasant voice. Dulcinia
looked at the towering mass of junk
in the annex over his desk and unused
unhappily on what it probably con-
tined, Were the dead hopes of in
Vulnerable aspirants to fame lying
there in grimy desuetude? Were there
not even some of her own perfectly
good manuscripts among that grisly
collection that she had sent in years
gone by. before she had even dared
enter an EDITORS lair? She was sure
she deserted one, in blue cover and
tied with ribbon at the top which
looked familiar, but she couldn't be
sure, for it was weighted down with
a stack of magazines and old books.
Again she found herself obsessed with
the idea OF the whole mass precipi-
tating itself upon the editor.
She made up her mind to do it. It
would be worth it, even if she got ar
rested. She could hardly control q
burst of maniacal glee as she saw in
her imagination the mighty one fallen.
u,
flooded, overwhelmed with the prod
ucts of her brain and the brains of
other unhappy geniuses. If they killed
her for it, it would be glorious
DEATH 1t would be worth anything
to have been the instrument of an
avenging fate like that! She knew
how the Russian Nihilists felt when
they had decided to blow somebody
up-the delightful, historical aban-
donment to the cause!
| She arose from her chair and took
several sprightly steps toward the
editors desk. There was just one fat
book that seemed to be acting as skey-
stone to the whole towering structure.
1t was the work of but fraction of a
second to snatch this out and then
The noise rose up as music to her
ears, and she floated out into Park
row with an expression upon her face
like an inspired saint. For once at
least the editor had some of her finest
manuscripts on his hands-also on