Los Angeles herald., 1910-12-11

! 1t is said in Indianapolis. that center
of literary activity, that Meredith
! Nicholson is the hardest man to find
in town. He leaves his house early
every morning and disappears toward
the heart of the city, but nobody
| seems to know where he spends the
day. He's as mysterious as David
Belasco. To a few persons he has
confided a telephone number which is
not in the directory. but even these
| do not know where his bell rings when
! they call him up. He is supposed to
! be buried in the midst of a tall office
! building, but his name is on no door,
and the elevator boy denied knowledge
of any such man. Persons seeking him
at home are told that he is at the
University club, where he appears ir-
regularly during the luncheon hour.
Late in the afternoon he visits GER
tain bookstore, also haunt of Riley,
the Hoosier poet, who is even harder
to get audience with.
"I do not work every day, or even
every other day." said Mr. Nicholson
to an investigator who had trailed him
to his downtown retreat by patient
sherlockng. II have my room down
here to think in. Like the farmer of
the classic anecdote, 1 sometimes sit
and think and then again 1 just sit.
The only sorrow of my life is the per-
sistence with which the janitor's VIM
dow washing staff attack my door.
These outlaws don't seem to under
stand that I don't want my windows
washed They believe me quite mad,
think. Nothing is harder on my busi-
ness than a washed window. I'd give
a good deal for a few cobwebs. but
guess l can't do anything about it. In
my work room on Mackinac Island l
ACQUIRED a hornet last summer, and
that was something gained. But here
you see the fiends clean this room
every night with lot of weird ap-
paratus that drives out all the
microbes that might be helpful.
Eyes, that article, The Confessions
of a Best Seller in the Atlantic
Monthly year ago, was mine. 1t was
discussed a good deal in the news
papers, and was attributed to num-
ber of people who promptly and with
some bitterness repudiated it. 1t is
real chapter of autobiography, and its
facts are facts. The publication of
The Siege of the Seven Suitors' does
not mean that I have abandoned the
platform | announced in that article
as to my future work. I'm still going
to settle down to the writing of books
that deal with actual American life;
and The siege of the Seven Suitors'
was already on the stocks when |
printed my confessions. 1 liked the
idea and wanted to write up all my
notes for that sort of thing before be-
ginning on my new note books.
"'The Siege of the Seven Suitors' is
a sort of little sister to The House of
Thousand Candles but it's much
cheerfuller tale, think. I've already
been asked to write the story I hinted
at in the Suitors, relating to Miss
Octavia HOLSTERS umbrella at the
Parker house, Boston. and 1 should be
glad to do so If life were not so short
or other things not so pressing. That
story has great possibilities, 1 think.
and / believe 1 can see now Just where
! it ought to begin.
81 have printed other essays and
sometimes poem in the Atlantic, but
my anonymous confessions brought me
more letters-sent through the Allan
tic office--than l ever received about
anything else I had written. One of