The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1916-06-27
The Euening Story
The House ON the Hill.


IF you'd only stop your foolish at
tempts to write short Stories" she said
to her worshiping husband, you could
make enough money at your business
to buy that house in a few months"
But perhaps I'll sell story or
| two" Mr.. Jack answered, land then
we can buy it anyway"
you'll never sell a story Her
speech was brutally frank. "It isn't
in YOU
In his voice was a faint hint of dis
couragement. But I'm going to keep
on trying just the same
You're only wasting time and
money I wish you'd get the foolish
Id "a out of your head"
Mrs. Jacks tone betrayed long suf-
fering. She had been married for six
months, and during that time Mr..
Jack had received eleven rejection
slips. He was obsessed with the idea
that he could write, but neither his
wife nor his friends gave him any en-
couragement.
your stories sound funny to me,''
his college chum had told him once
They're not like other stories I've
read Why don't you have them end
happily? That's the kind that SELLS"
But in life" the budding author
had reported, things don't always end
happily. I try to make my stories true
to life
efforts to his otherwise adoring wife.
If L were you,'' she told him, I'D
give my attention to business. You
lost the chance to take up that big
Morrison case just because you want
| ed time to finish a story and the
thing came back two weeks after you
sent it,
II don't care Mr. Jack spoke de-
terminedly. That story is going to
make it's mark some day
well, / hope it does" she sighed,
But the law case would have given
you at least a thousand dollars, and
we could have bought the little
house,
We'll. maybe I'll sell it yet He
drew his reluctant wife away from her
dreamy contemplation of the much de-
sired white cottage, and chatted about
one hundred and one trivial things
until they reached their rented apart
ment. In the mail box. he found a
thick envelope.
What is it?' Mrs Jack spoke with
out enthusiasm. She had seen similar
The Final Payment has come
back" he announced. I'll send it out
again tonight
I wouldn't if I were you" She
spoke with a touch of sarcasm. Its
only a waste of postage"
Mr.. Jack wisely refrained from re-
plying, but made his way to the den,
where he idly picked up a current
magazine. On the title page, the an
nouncement of prize short-story con-
test stared at him.
"One thousand dollars" he read
will be given for the best short story
submitted. The story must be unusual
the more out of the ordinary the
better for our purpose"
Without saying a word to anyone,
he inserted The Final Payment in
an envelope and sent it to the maya
zine conducting the contest. Then he
awaited results.
Meanwhile he maintained a discreet
silence. He applied himself indus
triously to his law business, and man
aged to secure one or two big cases,
which promised to turn out exceeding
ly well.
Il told you that you were never
meant for writer" Mrs Jack re-
minded him one evening, about two
months after his prize story had been
submitted. Look at the way YOU
are progressing. We ought to save a
thousand dollars easily within the next
two years. If you had kept on trying
to write, we'd be worse off than ever"
Mr.. Jack smiled, and went on his
way. Then. one afternoon, his office
mail brought an envelope stamped
with the name of a certain magazine
1t wasn't long, thick envelope, but
something which made his heart beat
furiousIy.
That night, at the supper table, he
preached the subject to his wife
DO you remember that Final Pay
ment' story?" he asked
Eyes" She showed little interest
well, sent it to a magazine about
two months ago."
You did ?"
Yes. and I heard from them to-
day"
'.They kept it little longer than
usual" She changed the subject 81
went by the house this afternoon"
Mr.. Jack frowned: 1t seemed to
him that his wife still had little faith
in his literary powers Which was
true.
And some one was looking at it,
Mrs. Jack continued. >.I went to the
agent and he said he had a fine chance
to sell it,
That's too bad
Il asked him if we could make a de-
| he said no. One thousand is the least
possible first payment the owner will
take
Well Mr.. Jack arose from the
table, I'm going to do a little writing
tonight
A few minutes later however. he re-
appeared. hat in hand
Il think I'll go down to the club
for WHILE he announced. I'll be
| back before nine
In an hour or so he returned, smil-
ing broadly Then, in spite of his
wife's protest, he shut himself in the
den and wrote until midnight
| When he came home the next eve
ming, Mrs. Jack met him with tear
dimmed eyes.
'Oh, Jack she cried, the little
house is Sold
Who bought it % There was hap
| by light in his eyes.
The agent wouldn't tell me. But
the person deposited the money last
night. and now we've lost IL for good
We'll, that's too bad He was an
parently Indifferent I'm going to
write some more tonight
oh" She turned away angriIy.
IL hate your old writings. If you had