Harrisburg telegraph. [volume] (Harrisburg, Pa.) 1879-1948, 1917-11-06

! had to do was write stories and sell
/ them? That was all there was to
it. Could anything be simpler?
So [ sat down at fever heat and,
wrote lot more. But the Prince of
Darkness directed his attention in
other quarters, and called off his eff
ficient aids. mo need of wasting
any further bait on her." he said,
she's hooked and landed for all
| time"
Months went by. | wrote my very
! best. In vain. The editors were very
I kind; they always are, poor, dear,
| patient souls, lone watchers of a
starless night" They commended my
offerings, asked to see further work,
and regretted that the enclosed story
did not quite" etc, etc.
At last came Christmas morning. l
arose joyously, anticipating the gifts
l was to receive, and proceeded to
/ the breakfast table. Ring happy
! bells across the snow" My plate
was piled high with returned manu-
scripts. Everything 1 had out was
back in my hands-stories, verses,
articles.
1t seemed almost as if the Fates
acy to destroy me, and with malign
zest had deliberately chosen this day
of joy and cheer for their purpose.
/ realized later that it was only the
devil up to his world-old game of
first initiating and then pulverizing
the neophyte.
Fate Hazes Every Beginner.
And / was pulverized. The world
was over and done with for me.
rT1onrn ~ loft htIf
a lodge in the wilderness. And then
all the stubborn Scotch and the
fighting Irish of me came to the sur
face.
The next morning I sent out those
manuscripts again and kept on send
ing them until one by one they all
reached port safely, and in the end
I received higher prices for them
than / would have if / had sold them
in the first place.
OF course, it was merely a coinci-
dence that my avalanche of rejec-
tionS descended upon me at one time,
and on Christmas morning OF all
days in the year No one was to
blame, I had erred simply through
ignorance of conditions in the prop
er marketing of my wares. In other
words, l was meeting with the salu-
tary hazing which Fate seems to
in what line.
A first recognition often comes
easily. Through some special apti-
tude or favorable combination of
circumstances one may gain a mo-
mentary attention. But there is al
ways a reaction; for neither aptitude
nor good luck will carry one very
far. We've got to learn our Job
study it from every angle, live for it,
love it, sweat at it, grind at it, play
at it, and put no other gods before
1t.
The writer of a single story, the
painter of a single picture, the busi-
ness man who puts over one big deal
and never another, can't go very far
on the strength of these solitary per-
formances. They show up wonder
fully at the barrier, but they haven't
learned to gauge the pace. When
their mounts begin to. slacken and
flag on them they come a cropper
and find themselves sitting on the
grass at the side of the course gaz-
ing dazedly while the race sweeps on.
We have all observed that it isn't
always the extraordinarily brilliant
or clever people who are at the top
of the heap; but it is the men and |
women who have the will and the iny
dustry to eat up work, who will |
achieve that concentration of mind |
and that discipline of body which |
are necessary for the long, uphill
pull. \
Learn to Play as Hard as You Work. |
We must have observed too, that
many people have an entire misap-
prehension of what the word work"
means. They go at their self-ap- |
pointed task feverishly, intemperate-
ly, and exhaust themselves before !
they are half through. /
Thewhole trick of the thing lies
in the conservation of effort rather
than in it's expenditure. It's getting |
the last ounce out of yourself, but
stopping before you're tired, and so |
training yourself that you can then
forget the work and the worries and |
play as wholeheartedly as you have
toiled.
The periods of reaction and dis
couragement are the turning points
in the life of every worker. They
are the supreme tests of our faith
and our fitnsss-of our faith in our
selves and the future and of our fit
ness for promotion.
We succeed on the strength we
have acquired during our barren
years. They form the line of de-
the worker, the amateur and the
professional.
In them lies much of the romance
of history. Cromwell stood with
Hampden gazing at the little craft
moored in the Thames which was
to bear them to America. His strug-
gle with the king was over; he was
baffled and defeated. But the iron
which that struggle had developed
in him could not so weakly yield, At
the last moment he turned back. 'T
will have one more grapple with the
man, Charles Stuart"
$50 them two turned together; one
to die,
for freedom on the bloody
field;
The other. far more happy, to be-
come
A name earth wears forever next her
heart"