The Yale expositor., 1919-12-11


to this time the only sympathy
| have experienced has shone
In the eyes Of the postman, and this
silent solicitude on his part is getting
on my nerves. I am glad he failed to
witness this final disappointment. l
mean 6nal too, for L am determined to
devote my efforts to some other line
from now on. Still don't see why he
should have ruined my Christmas. 1t
seems to me since he held my manu-
| script for six weeks, he could have
given 1t desk room for another day,
thus permitting me to live up to my
name today of all days"
After this outburst, Mae Hope, "a
would-be song writer, sank into Il
chair, thrust bulky envelope from the
Frank Charity Music Publishers into
her desk, and sat hopelessly gazing at
the small epistle from the same Office
and with slight touch Of humor and
faint suggestion of a smile, recited
the contents of that letter-not
through the envelope, which she had
not opened, but from memory:
Sorry, Miss Hope, that this is not
yet quite up to the standard, but sim
cerely trust you will not be discour-
aged, etc., ETC."
For three years Miss Hope had been
receiving these distressing notes from
the genial young publisher, who could
not summon the courage to advise her
to give up. Perhaps he realized it was
merely a case Of humoring an mag
mary talent rather than attempting TO
earn a living as the young lady's in
come was sufficient to keep her alive
without setting fire to the universe by
flashing on the public her picture serv-
| ing as a cover over some sentimental
verses accompanied by music
1t was the morning of the last day
of the third unsuccessful year. Mae
Hope was interrupted at breakfast by
the sound of the door bell.
"a lady to see you, Miss Hope"
spoke the maid.
The name on the card seemed to add
insult to injury.
Mrs. Frank Charity l never knew
he was married. Maybe it is someone
else. Probably somebody knows need
charity. Tell her will be down i'm
mediately."
One glance at her visitor assured
Miss Hope it was no stranger, but an
old school friend.
violet Faith! You? The card reads
Mrs. Charity"
why, Mae, you seem surprised"
How should know you were mar
ried?"
"violet, stealing a glance at the dis
orderly desk, remarked tartly:
Perhaps it would be a good idea
to read your letters ii you want to
keep up with the parade"
You don't mean," picking up the
bulky envelope from the Frank Char
ity Music Publishing company, that
this is a letter from you. 1t looks for
all the world like manuscript"
Manuscript, indeed! 1t is the story
of my life written on my wedding day,
and i am delighted to find it unopened
whole week later. thought it was
least, interesting to an old friend.
spent so much time composing it, am
sure you will be fully enlightened if
you read it instead of looking at me in
blank amazement and making il im-
possible to express myself"
Miss Hope, after seeing her guest
comfortably seated, delved into the
depths of the secret, but not before she
had said by way of apology:
"a week, my dear, is very short
time to be ignored with a suspicious
looking envelope of this kind" and
this remark was thoroughly appreciat-
ed by Violet Faith Charity.
'My DEAR" said Violet. at all hap
pened because 1 attended services on
Christmas eve. but to begin at the time
when / last saw you, the one day 1
most distinctly recall was the day
met Frank. He was on the stage, and
believing him to be regular actor, 1
dared not mention him to Aunt Agnes.
For years 1 suffered the annoyance Of
entertaining her choice acQuaintances
and met with her disapproval for my
utter indifference. You can imagine my
relief when the second appearance Of
Frank in our little city showed him
in the light of a chautauqua singer
consequently eligible to admittance to
the best circles. He sang some of your
compositions, won my aunt, took his
bride, and here am. Suppose you take
glance at the other envelope that
came by the same messenger"
Mae, speechlessly, laid down the
STORY of my life" and fingered the
small envelope which held another sur
prise; silently reached for her letter
opener, and inside Of another minute a
check for $1,000 fell into her lap.
When she could pull herself together
sufficiently she read the little note ac-