Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1913-01-05

You want my story. Why am | here? l am
not sure that it is worthy to follow yours.
But it has its good points-as have thought
1t out.
lie went over to the table, and picked up
IL a popular novel upon which his gaze
had rested while the haberdasher spun his
fabric of love and gloom. On the cover was
picture of a very dashing maiden.
do you see that girl?" he asked. "She is
beautiful, is she not? Even Arabella, in her
most splendid moments, could get a few
points from her, | fancy. Perhaps you are
not familiar with the important part such
picture PLAYS in the success of novel to-
day. The truth is, however, that the noble
art of fiction writing has come to lean more
and more heavily on its illustrators. The
mere words that 60 with the pictures grow
less important every day. There are dozens
of distinguished novelists in the country at
this moment who might be haberdashers If
it weren't for the long, lean, naughty ladies
who are scattered tastefully through their
works."
Bland stirred uneasilv.
81 can see you are at a loss to know what
my search for seclusion and privacy has to
do with all this" continued Magee. 81 am
an artist. For years | have drawn these
lovely ladies who make fiction salable to the
masses. Many novelist owes his mOtorcar
and his country house to my brush. Two
months ago | determined to give up illus
tration forever, and devote my time to paint
ing l turned my back on the novelists.
Can you imagine what happened"
"My imagination's little tired" apollo
gized Bland.
"Never mind. I'll tell YOU The leading
authors whose work had so long illustrated
saw ruin staring them in the face. They
came to me on their knees, hguratively.
They begged. They pleaded They hid in
the vestbule of my fiat should say, my
studio. They even came up in my dumb
waiter, having bribed the janitor. They
wouldn't take no for an answer. In order to
escape them and their really pitiful plead
ings, had to flee. l happened to have a
friend involved in the management of Bald
pate Inn. | am not at liberty to give his
name. He gave me a key. So here am. l
rely on you to keep my secret. If you per
ceive a novelist in the distance, lose no time
in warning me-"
MAGE paused, chuckling inwardly He
w stood looking down at the lovelorn
haberdasher. The later got to his feet, and
solemnly took Magee's hand.
"I-I-oh, well, YOU We got me beat a
mile. old man. he said.
"You don't mean to say began the
hurt Magee
"Oh that's all right" Bland assured him.
81 believe every word of it. It's all as real as
the haberdashery to me. I'll keep my eye
peeled for novelists What gets me is, when
you boil our two fy-by night stories down,
I've come here to be alone. You want to be
alone We can't be alone here together. One
of us must clear out.
Nonsense" answered Billy Magee. "I1l
be glad to have you here. Stay as long as
you like.
The haberdasher looked A1agee fully in
the eye, and the latter was startled by the
hostility he saw in the others face.
"The point is, said Bland, 81 don't want
you here. Why? Maybe because you recall
beautiful danes book covers-and in
that way, Arabella Maybe-but what
the use? put it simply. I've got to be alone
alone on Baldpate Mountain. | won't
put you out tonight
"See here, my friend!" cried NIagee.
"Your grief has turned your head. You
won't put me out tonight, nor tomorrow. I'm
here to stay. You're welcome to do the
same, if you like. But you stay-with me.
| know you are a man of courage; but it
would take at least ten men of courage to