Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1910-06-17
A SINGLE HAIR.
BY PERCY c. HALL.

1nt ttllOT III Dit LACciSlDI HldBdLlQt
sat at his desk opening envelopes con-
tanning contributions. Running over
the sheets of one to discover If 1t came
within the prescribed length, he found
between two of them a hair. 1t was
too long for a mans hair and too short
for a woman's. But 1t must be one
or the other, and since the manuscript
was sent In by a woman he concluded
that 1t had belonged to the latter. It
was not black or brown or red; it
was golden. And the name of the girl
on whose head 1t had doubtless grown
was Nathalie Rose Arrowsmith. But
perhaps this was fictitious.
The Excelsior Magazine was pub
llshed in the far west where women,
clated. Possibly 1t was this that led
the editor to dream over the golden
hair and Nathalie Rose Arrowsmith.
He was a young man Of ideal tastes.
He was not the owner OF the period
ical, but an employee whose business
1t was to select such contributions as
would fit in between certain other
Dt1PiC mdttCL. liz POSoCSOIo AAttAdA
discrimination, but was aware that this
delicate faculty was not considered in
fixing his salary. What was expected
Of him was to read the manuscripts
that came In to see that there was
nothing in them calculated to offend
any of the magazines patrons, select
ing those that would fit the empty
spaces.
That a good name for Miss Arrow
smith would be 1.-THE fair n with the
golden locks gradually insinuated it.
self into the young editors mind. He
estimated the length of her produc-
ton and, finding 1t within limits, laid
1t aside for acceptance in case 1t con-
tanned nothing Objectionable. Mean
while his operative mentality was or
his work, but his ideal faculties-those
akin to soul-were on THE fair one
with the golden locks" By the time
he had read her manuscript be had con-
jured up a poetic, aesthetic condition
that enabled him to see in 1t the high
est degree of literary merit. The Ian
guage was "plains" or gulch language,
and the author had succeeded in CIV
ing 1t as correctly as If she had kept a
cowboys boarding house. There were
Rattlesnake Bill and Mexican Pete, as
bad men as ever famed a 40 or
twisted a bowie" Then there was
Cactus Kate, not overparticular in her
loves, but "a heart as big as Table
mountain"
The story was available. but when
the editor contemplated offering the
management's limit Of compensation
for such productions-$2.50 -his whole
ideal nature sickened. Yet what could
he do? Any suggestion to pay IN adj
ditional sum for a literary gem would
only meet with a snarl from his chief
and the remark that I'VE amt in this
yere business to edecafe authors, but
for DUST He concluded to soften the
blow for the fair n with the golden
locks by writing her a letter Of apollo
gy for offering her so pitiful a sum for
her production.
II he had stopped at this there need
have been no harm done. All editors
kindly insert feather beds under strug-
Cling authors before knocking them
down. It's a feature of the business.
But the gold strand had stuck in his
head, and he added some soft stuff"
He inclosed the proprietor's check for
the price to be paid and sent the whole
away with a futtering heart.
A few days later the young editor
heard a stentorian voice In the man
ayers private room debating some
question with all the intensity Of Ian
guage of Rattlesnake Bill or Mexican
Pete In the story. Then the manager
called the editor into his office. There
stood a strapping cowboy whose yell
low hair hung down under his SOM
brero. There were pistols and car
tridges in his belt and spurs big
enough for buzz saws on his heels.
He was flushed with anger; but, on
seeing the editor, who was a delicate
fellow Of five feet two inches and a
hundred pounds weight, he stood as
tonished for a moment then burst into
a ft of uncomfortable laughter.
"Be you the kid as writ that?" he
asked, holding forth the editors apollo
getic message.
The editor stood stupefied.
"Waal, wal, l amt on the blow
about SEEM big wonders, but this is the
blarstedest observation | ever made.
So y took me for a gal. And the hair
ez got in between the sheets. A gold
en- strand. And y daubed in some
soft soap on me. 1 sure never see
nothin' like this before"
did you write the stuffT' asked the
proprietor of Nathalie Rose Arrow
smith.
"Sartin. l read it to the boys, and
they lowed 1t was fine"
"What made you choose that name?'
"Why pard. l was called sudden on
a roundup and lef' the stuff with a
young Teller ez jist come out to the
Peters ranch from the east to send to
your magazine. He put on the name.