Pine Bluff daily graphic., 1917-12-23
THE FIRE OF GENIUS
 By LEE VERNON HAMMOND.

four homes, the diversity of which made that residential presentation er- ratic and incOngruous. Fully one-half of the six hundred feet frontage was taken up by the home of Robert Ed son, wealthy retired business man, who lived entirely to himself, had come : from the city to settle down in bache- Tor solitude, but luxury, who made ire quent long pleasure tours and was 1 therefore very little at home. 1 Next to it was the modest home of Will Blake, who was a grizzled assist ant in the local bank, and with whom younger brother, Nelson Blake, lived. Adjoining that was the mere shell of small cottage occupied as lessee | by young widow, Mrs. Eunice ] Woods, and her two-year-old boy, a bright, precocious youngster popularly nicknamed Buster.
 It is with Nelson Blake that we have to do, and never was there more lov- able fellow. He was twenty-five, 1 sturdy and erect, but only of late 1 years. From ten to twenty he had l been weakling, and that period had compelled q sedentary life devoid of l play and companionship. Then slowly he had outgrown his physical ailments, l but ambition and effort had eXperi- enced setback. He accepted a posi- |. tion as night watchman at manufac- turing plant and now had held it for three years.
 ,"Why don't you try something bet ter?' his sister-in-law had often asked him.
 :. '"Tell you, Martha he would reply, "as you know, have an idea there is f some kind of a place for me in litera- ture."
 But suddenly new element of in- spiration came into his life. The du- ties of Nelson at the plant comprised his taking a comfortable seat near the burglar alarm, and making only two rounds of the place during the hours of dark,
 Little Buster had been always a fa- vorite with him. How far his pretty mother was one, too, Nelson never al- 1 lowed himself to think. Nelson's in- l terest in mother and child, however led to his practically adopting little Buster. "It must be quite hindrance and care for you to have the dear little fellow on your hands at the places where you go out sewing" he remarked to Mrs. Woods, one day.
 "It is double burden in way, yes," she admitted.
 ''I've a suggestion to make" ven tured Nelson. "You know have the whole day to myself. All do is a lit- tie writing. Our garden is shady and rOomy and pleasant. Buster makes a capital chum. He likes me and I like him and we always get on famously together. Let me relieve you of his responsibility while you are compelled to be away from home."
 The arrangement was made and it had due reward in store for the ac- commodating Nelson. Little Buster would troop after him and join him in the rustic bower and play at his side. One day Nelson was reading over aloud one of the little, skits he had composed when he chanced to observe Buster.
 "Fi-yah!" he babbled, when Nelson was reading off fire episode in his story. 10000! Make sparks!" and he acted forth terror and shuddering.
 And on another occasion, when Nel- son read of weeping lady and her sorrows, little Buster drew down his expressive face. "POor lady ky!' he mourned. "Make tears come shore"
 So time drifted on pleasantly for author and audience, until in one week the latter had three stories returned from as many publishers. Somehow the occurrence greatly dampened aspi- ration and hope. Nelson made a trag- ic resolve. He gathered all his manu- scripts together and carried them into the garden to grassless spot near the I fence of his rich neighbor at the right. He placed them on the ground.
 'Last story, Buster" he told his lit tie companion. "I'm going to read it. Then we will set fire to the heap and am going to forget all about writing, and go to the city and try to earn Q 1 living" ...
 He read his latest effort, sweet, pathetic little tale, heartsome and wholesome. He added the serial to the l pile and struck match.
 "Hold on!" sounded forth manda- tory voice, and looking up Nelson con- | frOnted rich MT. EdsOn on the other side of the lot line fence. You needn't burn those stories of yours. I'll give you one hundred dollars apiece for them. I'm whimsical fellow, as you well know, and can afford expensive ] fancies. There's merit in that screed' you just read. You've got the writing bug, and believe if you can broaden your field of information, you'll hit it. Anyhow I'll take the stories and, as my old caretaker is about to leave, I'll give you his job at one hundred dollars month and free, access to my i library I'm going on whole years l iaunt | eXDect yOu tO be the allthOr