The Hattiesburg news. (Hattiesburg, Miss.) 1908-1917, 1909-09-20
Allie Fluttcr il
Literature
By F. Harris Dean

seated at 6mdll WrltlnS taOie,
and formed an attractive oasis in a
iesert of foolscap.
I paused abruptly in the doorway
and stared.
II mustn't be Interrupted" she ex-
claimed, because I'm busy"
$50 1 see." 1 rejoined. What are
you doing-serting your dressmakers
bills?"
For a fraction of q minute 1 was
permitted to gaze into a pair of deeply
wounded eyes. "Tm writing" she said
coldly.
o." said, somewhat impressed.
subsidized gently into an armchair, and
eyed her admiringly. "Er-what are
you writing?"
Betty looked at me thoughtfully,
and sucked an inky forefinger before
she replied. I'm writing a novel,"
she vouchsafed at last.
"A novel;" cried. "You didn't men.
ton it yesterday"
Because" she answered, simply,
II hadn't thought of it yesterday
rs 1t finished YETI"
Finished" She regarded me scorn-
fully. Have you ever heard of a
novel being written in day."
NO" I admitted, though many
could have been-easily."
81 don't expect to get it finished"
she resumed, before the end of next
week"
Too impressed by the magnitude IT
the work to offer any comment, ! lit
a cigarette.
'Tm glad you've called, though"
she resumed because there's some
thing l want to know. What is the
least number of words you can have
in a novel;"
Not less than 10000" 1 informed
her.
Betty gave shrill cry and gazed
at me in dismay. Truly"
nodded.
For few moments Betty involved
herself in a minor maelstrom, and
eventually emerged flushed and dis
heveled. Thirty pages" she an
nounced. "It's foolscap, though, mind
you. How many words would that
be-"
about $500 altogether" calou-
lated. glancing at her handwriting.
"Oh!" she walled. She resumed the
sucking of her ink-stained forefinger.
"Have I got to write another 40 times
as much!" Her tone was tragic.
"Why not make it short story?"
I suggested.
Betty reflected over this for a few
moments. Should get as much?"
she queried
GAS much?"
Money, of course. What else do
you Think"
THAT depends. Some authors get
more for a short story than others
for a long novel It's question of
reputation
Betty wrinkled her brows at me for
few moments. How do you get a
reputation" she inquired at length.
"By writing" 1 affirmed stoutly.
She pondered over this for while.
T see," she evolved at last. "At
least, think do. You have to write
story first to make your name; and
another to make money. Is that it?''
That's the theory of it, anyhow"
I assented.
"Ugh!" she cried, with shudder,
lnstinctively putting her hand behind
her back
How many words do you want for
a short story-a very short story?"
THAT depends how short the story
Is. Say two thousand.
She pursued her lips reffectively
And I've written-how many did you
say?-fifteen hundred So l only want
another five hundred, don't 1? II
wouldn't be dangerous to write that
number, would it?"
''Dangerous!" l echoed There's
never any danger. If the editor
doesn't like it, he only sends it back
There's nothing to be afraid Of"
Don't be silly" said Betty, scorn
ull, Il meant danger of getting writ
er's cramp. And, anyhow, when I've
written the story I shall take it Il
some editor personally. You dom
suppose I'm frightened of an editor
do your
Look here" she cried, suddenly
what will you bet that the first on
I take It to doesn't accept it?"
l looked at her Laughing face, an
imagined myself an editor. l shoe
my head.
"a dozen pairs of gloves" sh
pleaded. "a lady editor?' I bargaine,
She looked. at me reproachfull,
That's meant won't bet at all wit
yea now She paused, and the
added, you might have won, yc
know"
I'm any acse," 1 said, undisturbe
, "Tve plenty OF gloves"
Gloves! Why. l. needn't ha,
bet you gloves"
"What were you going to bet me
| said.
:. ''Oh, WELL" She meditated awhil