THE STORYTELLER.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LII, Issue 138, 10 July 1909, Page 3

THE STORYTELLER.

THE HEART OF THE EDITOR. "Yoil «ee," said the Editor of the •Epoch, strumming with his long hngeis Jon a bulky piiu ui uiauuscf'i'i «"'' ay Uiore him, "the thing is really good • good m a literary seu=c, J mean. ' ■i. ' ~ui, suiwb.e lor ine lipoch, eli. a«au .-aug ranner, junior partnerm ao uu-1-..u..ig 1»™ ot larn.>.Ta.KiU'., • w/.jb tiJ'proprietors of that tl.nvill- Linodicul. . , ~ ■■JL, not iu us present June. 1 don t kuutt what magazine editor wouiu ia> tic ..uek to take .acta » »»vl4 a* l unus. The fellow goes altogether wo ,ar; readers would.be up .nanus Iu Allowable, perhaps, to run a tilt at monarch* or revealed religion ««*■"»•■ "age, tout not at the whole iot totb "Only-ifs so devilish good!" inur- . mured tile Editor regretfully. "Can't he be induced to modi y it! ■ The Editor shook Us head -He 6 an intractable 'beggar, a» Mr. Joh» Strong. I've written to him about it ' -ani wk«d him to come here and talk over but he won't. He says a KStO Mm Md could.serve no useful !Sws.' Bi consents to soften down Skat he calls -liundrv incidental crudi- ' «iv but M or altering the whole seope Joul Indeed, 1 hardly sec how he ! .' the readers of The Epoch power that I hate to refuse it Farmer, who did not. proftM to teVW of literature, got up laugh. SirwW," hesaid ' Ican H" to that there are things whichth< Xe must not be asked to. swallow? The Editor nodded and sighed. II ♦hrak of it." he answered. . Lean HV with the w« Wn eyes and the kindly, premature J S "tee took his editorial function £*. Very scrupulous, consc.entiou Sirit. Like many another man of let Sis who haa occupied a similar post new« Sr a state of perpetual menta iMfcMwMl his love of what he knev tote ttaqntt* work and the ever pre . B ent ration that he I bad to eat for an audience composed chiefly of fo« »nd in a large measure of mtolcran fools A maptzine, after all, is a eon. roerelal enterprise, and he had no ngh wSe Firmer and Co. in ?« loss. Consequently .he passed among* Ms habituai contributors for I W fidgety and hard to please, althoug everybody liked him as a man. Th. unknown John Strong, from Whose pe he had already accepted a few br.ll.an short articles, and who-mamlj -j, th result of \a» encouragement-had su mitted to him the more ambitious nov untitled "Daybreak," which he was no considering, was, he felt sure, a writ, who would achieve renown, andi he n more wished to let the man slip throng hi, fingers than a patient anger wish* to\aerifice a fish somewhat too heav for his tackle. With excisions an emendations, "Daybreak" might, 1 ihoudht, be made possible—just po. sible. But in any case the venture woul he a risky one. Upon the whole, seemed worth while to take Farmer adviee and/ call upon the recalcitrai author. Personal interviews, without doubt, do sometimes bring about unde takings' which are not to be arrived a i through correspondence. The upshot of these musings was tna towards the close of day Curtis foun himself entering an ugly, forbiddiu edifice in Jar West Kensington whic was obviously let in flats. "Can you tell me on which floor JI Strong lives?" he asked the porter. "Kb gentleman of that name en sir," anfrtrered the man. This was both vexatious and n i credible. ■ ■ „ "I am certain I have.got the addre. right," said Curtis. "Think again—M John Strong." . 1 "New heard tell of him, sir. Stc a- minute, though. I believe 'there been aome letters come, for a party l the'name of Strong as Miss Marshal oa the. floor, said she was to forwan Like to see-Jfi&V Marshall, sir?" Curtis had not the least wish to si Miss Marshall,'''whoever she might b and,he turned away in some disgust s 'having wasted more than an hour < '-valuable time. But just as he was i . the art of hailing a passing hansoi ' there- came a light touch upon his c low, and,.facing about, 'he was coi fronted by a young lady, who said: "I beg your pardon; did I hear yo asking for Mr. John' Strong?" "You did," he replied. "Perhaps yo . are Miss Marshall?" i The was a very young gir > with a neat figure, a round, babyis face, and large grey eyes—smiled. "N( I am not Miss Marshall, though I liv with her; lam her cousin, Miss Thorn ■ You, I am sure, are Mr. Curtis; 60 may as well tell you at once that, bi \»ides being Miss Tlhorne, I am Joh .itrong." It is safe to say that there was' ni at that moment in all London a moi astounded man than tht Editor of Th Epoch. < *'_ i "Impossrblel" he exclaimed, with mor , candour than politeness. She took no umbrage. "Ah," she r< marked, "I knew you would say eo, an it was chiefly for that reason that refused to goto your office. But I ha just the little scrap of a hope that yo i might come here, and I am so glad yo lave; for it shows' that you haven yet finally decided to reject 'Dayhreak Won't you come upstairs, now that w have met?" Her voice struck Curtis as no less a tractive than her face and manner. Ho any of the three could appertain to th scholarly, incisive, audacious writer c •Bayibreai' he was at a loss to iinagim Silently and furtively he scrutinisi' this amazing young woman while th lift whisked them up to the fifth floo; There MiiM Thorne, after leading th way into aflat of tiny dimensions, tine open the door of a cheerless, half-fin nidhed apartment which evident), served nS a dining-room. '.'Sorry I can't nsk you into the sil ting-room," said she,' "hut Camilla i there; and I daresay you would rath." talk to 'me alone. We're unspeakalil poor; so, as you see, we only rim to table and a couple of chairs here. Mow ever, nobody can sit upon more tha one chair at a time. You tako that on and I'll take this." Suiting the action to the word, sh placed her elbows on the table,.droppc her chin upon her hands, and faced hir laughingly. "Well," she went on. 'noi fre are going to have it out, I su| '■ ' pose." ■*'." Considering that ehe was an obscur would-be contributor to a world-rt nowned periodical and that she was i the presence of one who might wo! prove to be the arbiter of her destinies she certainly did not appear to li troubled with shyness. It was Hug' Curtis who'experienced a little of tha distressing sensation on being eonipcllc to tell her that there were piwages ii her book which many, if not all, reader would consider profane and indecent He hastened to add that, after seein; her, he could readily believe Dint the* blemishes might Ire the outcome of slice innocence. What he professed himscl unable to understand -was that one o her years should tatve acquired •tin style and knowledge of Which "Day break" afforded evidence in every naie She accepted both the censure and tin eomnliment with serenity. ' 'ton, wcll,".she said, "I have had £ ' fairly good education, Of course, som< themes can't be handled without taking vour gloves off, and parts of the dia losue'in 'Daybreak' are rather—weil %j , plain-spoken. I daresay they could bi "- toned down. But the hook itself hato lie what it is' or nothing. You must admit that." "I admit that so fully," Curtis replied, j "that I fear I must v«rv reluctantly de- ■ c!ine to associate The Enoch with such / . very subversive doctrines as you preach." He upoke with some sternness and firmne-ai, n« was' his habit; but pressure w*t brninht to hear upon him after a fo«hion fo r which he was not prepared ,' Tvlien Mil's Thome's lovely prey eves ; _ f]\pi\ with clow tears." She heaved a / ' lons nijrb and murmured: "•There's no more to be said, then. /'. Jt'«—lt'll rather a disappointment. I ', , thou At, after your taking the trouble to come here and all, you must be in- \ elined to accent the serial, and—and we 5" ( ar" «o frightfully poor!" j, ' VUt all editors, Citrtfe was painfully Ji % familiar fljith that unfair and irrelevant Hid IIR not known how to harden ■£; li*Tt atninst it, he would have been for h's nositioii, and tlm. wtreme ;=.'Vjifflcultv which he experienced in hardhis heart against Miss Thome! due less to pity than to a very sin- i

ere Appreciation of her talent. So, n.t [ , e...5-., lie told himself. For the rest,, . urth'cr discussion proved her to be sin- ( ■ mlail)' amenable to reason. If ha would lut run through the MS. with her and joint out passages .which it might be , ulvisab.e to omit! Or even if he could ndicate some way of recasting the plot, j (i as to bring it more into harmony vuh his rcqiii., -incuts, she would be only , .ou glad to meet him. "Chateau <u" ,urle et feininc qui eeoutc!'' This tune t was the Editor who represented -both uraew and listener, and the result iiistilicd the proverb. -Well, I'm rather .busy just now, ( .wis Curtis's final formula of capilula- , ion, "but I'll make time to come here :or two or three afternoons, and well ■■nipple with the book together. Beween us, we ought to be able to knock ,t into something like presentable shape. But we must look sharp, for I want to begin printing almost at once. Otheiwise there will he no vacancy in the nagaziuc fo r at least two years. '•Docs that mean that you accept the »ook," , , Curtis shrugged his shoulders, laughin« a little. "Oh, I accept it, subject, naturally, to indispensable changes in the text." **.„„,. Then it was pretty to see Miss Thome clap her hands and skip about the room like a delighted child. Singular, mused Curtis, are the feminine developments which we have lived to witness 1 Heie, to all appearance, was as nice and simple a girl as anyone could desire to behold; vet she was not only acquainted with every thing which one would fain beheve unknown to maidens, but do not mind writing about what she knew "the most equivocal language. Extraordinarily well-read and talented, no doubt; but he would have liked her tatter in her .personal capacity if she had possessed fewer claims upon his admiration as an authoress. However, she did not allow him much leisure for moralising. "Come and announce, the good news to my cousin Camilla," she' commanded (.to issued orders to the grave editor in the most matter-of-course way), anl he was led into the adjoining room, where Miss' Marshall, a gaunt I»«» n »S 8 of anything between iforty and Wt}, with short, grizzled had r and a pair ot spectacles bestriding a (formidable no»e, teceived him somewhat stiffly. "I don't know that I should let J" tinker with my work if I were Ne be, this unprepossessing lady remarket, after listening to explanations. 1 shouldn't wonder if you made a hasn 01 it. But there!—beggars' mustnt be choosers." . , It was not a very gracious way ot acknowledging what was really no small sacrifice of time and convenience on the Part of a busy man; but Curtis only smiled-fceling, indeed, little interest in Miss Marshall, beyond a certain altruistic satisfaction that her emancipated voun* cousin should be under lie. guardianship, \o obviously grim and ""on'the other hand, his interest in Miss Nellie Thornc and her work was destined to augment at a rate which might have given his female relations legitimate, ground for anxiety if he had 'had any. Female relatives, who seldom discern anything in a pretty girl save the all-important fact that she is' prettj, would doubtless have formed conclusions based upon common experience had they seen Curtis hurrying out to West Kensington day after day and spending days in feverishly slashing and re-writing the pages of "Daybreak," with his head very close to that of the gifted authoress But in honest truth the work captivated .him almost <is much as did the writer; although he was naturally touched and gratified by the humility with which Miss Thome acquiesced in his' emendations. "Oh, of course; you know how to put things so much better than I do," she would say .submissively. Well, perhaps he did. At all events', he so far identified himself with "Daybreak" by degrees as to feel some personal pride in the finished composition. The worst of it was that he could not help feeling some vicarious shame into the bargain. The book was clever, daring, original, vastly superior to the common nm of contemporary fiction; but—but it was not the sort of book that a nice-minded girl could have written. Such was Curtis's reluctant, but conclusive, verdict, and it was a little strange, a little disappointing that Miss Thome should remain so insensible or indifferent to ,that aspect of her production. ' With the end of the collaboration came the end of an acquaintance which had becni undeniably pleasant. Curtis had no further excuse for calling at the West Kensington flat, while he had absolutely no time for social intercourse. So, at any rate, he averred, in reply to sundry amiable little notes offering him a cup of tea; but the fact was that he had other and better reasons for practising self-denial. He was not, lie hoped, an utter idiot, nor was he any longer young enough to let a pair of grey eyes, however charming, disturb flhc clearness of his own mental vision. So he stood firm, and the notes presently ceased. Not without trepidation did Curtis await results when, a couple of months later, the opening chapters of the new serial were laid (before the readers of The Epoch. Editors and theatrical managers know that in dealing with the vßritish public nothing is certain, noi thing can be positively predicted. "Dayjreak" might pass almost unnoticed, might arouse a gradual storm of angry protest, or might simply bore people who objected —most people do—to the investigation of grave social problems under the garb of fiction. But it did none of these things. It gripped attention from the very outset, its force anil talent were instantly recognised, and ty fEe time that the uhird number of the magazine had been issued everybody was asking everybody else who John Strong was. Now, John Strong, as we know, was a moderate, retiring pcreon who had no desire to lay aside her anonymity; but she ■would have been scarcely human if, with the trumpet of Fame already sounding preliminary blasts in ler ear, she had not been a trifle hurt by the cold silence of her editorial collaborator. Apparently she did not mean to put up with it; for one morning Curtis received a summons from 'her which even he could not be so rude as to disregard. *Will you please name any day when it would b'e convenient to you to come Here.? We want to see you, if you don't mind. And it's rather particular." He frowned, /minted, telegraphed to say tliat he would 'bo at West Kensington that same afternoon, and kept liis appointment. He was admitted by Miss Thornc, who .beckoned him into the liingy little dining-room which had Jiera the scene of then- joint labors, and whose grev eyes, be thought, had a suggestion of mingled triumph and apprehension in theni. It als'o struck him that she was looking prettier (liar rver; but that was an irrelevance. "I congratulate yon," lie began :i ;'; formally. "I have never heard or kn'owi of a ease in which the first few parts of a serial by a new writer have create! —-11 c-11 a stir as 'Daybreak' has done. TinFanners have informed you. no doubl of the exceptionally favorable terms which they are prepared to offer for the story when it appears in volume form. A very larse sal-.' ;•<. of course, assured She nodded. ''U's a real success then?" "Oh. yes. it's a real success." Ho added grimly. "A calamitous success!'' ' "But why calamitous?" she asked, opi'ning Iher even wide. Tn accents of rll-slippriused irritation he answered: '.'Because the sequel to sneh a start is obvious ami unavoidable Because you'll do ,'t again. Because John Strong is l.nimd to become stronger as Ire goes on. Tn a word, be i-ause. murh as T admire your book, 1 can't like it. Or it may be more accurate to sav.lhat I can't like to think of vonr having written it." Her eves dropped, as' did the corners of her mouth; but the dimples on her cheeks deepened and she showed no sign of having taken offence. "Then," she • observed demurely, "perhaps it will relieve you to hear that I didn't." "What? you didn't write 'Dav-hre-V!" "Not on" solitan- word of it, except rhe part that you dictated to me. Now. , ''on't be in n rage; just consider for a ' moment. What possible dilVerenec can •A m-il-p fn you nr Messrs. Farmer or anybody else whether John Stre-iir stands for Nellie Thornc or Camilla Marshall?" "Miss) M"-sluill!" ejaculated Curtis. 'Good lord!" "Does, thai astonish you? I should lave thoucrlil H as plain as plain could be that Caiu'lia exudes genius from 'verv- pore, whereas T am'—she jerked ip her shoulders: dcnrcr.ntingh—''what am. All nlonii \ have been in terror est you should suspect the truth; but •on are not verv—Well, never mind! think perhaps I like von all the better or that." "I cannot conceive for what purpose his deception has been practised upon nfe," said Curtis severely, though in ecret he was overjoyed. "Ah. well, you must fight that out. -'ith Camilla, who thinks the time has ow corne for her to drop the veil, and 'ho begged me to personate her at first. 'on look as if you thought I ought to nve refused: but let me tell you that, lough Camilla is an old dear, she is I

the sort of person whom it isn't comfortable to disobey. As for the bookwell, I agree with you about the book." Curtis 1 face iwas wreathed in smiles'. "You don't like 'Daybreak'? I waa sure you couldn't." She drew a little nearer to him, and, lowering her voice to a whisper, "I trust to your honor never to repeat this,' salTl'she, "but quite, quite between ourselves—L think its a perfectly beastly book!" ■ Under certain circumstances the most reticent of men and the staidest of editors will behave in a manner wholly out of keeping with their ascertained char"Oli', you darling!" exclaimed Hugh' Curtis. What followed that very starting and unconventional utterance on his part may be readily imagined. It was perhaps half an hour later that Miss Thome remarked: "I think you really ought to go in and see Camilla now, Hugh. No ; I'm not going with you, many thanks. Henceforth it will" be your privilege to stand between me and the cold blast." So the radiant editor proceeded alone into the drawing-room, where Miss Marshall's bony fingers were extended to him-, and where an ironical smile rewarded the polite things that he said to her about her great work. "H'm! vou did your level best to ruin it for me," she remarked, with a sniff. '■Watering down my most powerful passages like that until they tasted of nothing at all! How I kept my hands off you while you were so complacently engaged in making me ridiculous I don't know! Iron self-control, I suppose, and a sense of the paramount importance of "etting my foot on the first rung of thebidder by hook or by crook. Never aoain, though! I'm independent now, and if at any future time yon should publish a book of mine in The Epoch, you'll be good enough to respect the copy" v j n "I can but apologise," answered Uiltis meekly, "and assure you that the alterations which I felt it my duty to make were imperative. The public would never have tolerated—" "Stuff and nonsense! Don't tell mo that! What you really men is that you funked your public, and I've no opinion of people who funk'. What's more, I believe they are always wrong. "It may be so; yet even you seem to have fallen a little short of courage of. .your opinions when you got behind your cousin." „ , "Not a bit of it! I had to find an editor somehow, and I know enough of editors and men to know that they can resist a homely old maid easily enough. It was Nellie's eyes that persuaded you to accept a serial which scared you out of your priggis hwits.. Deny it if you can!" . , Curtis burst out laughing. "My dear Miss Marshall," he returned, "that is the very last thing that I should wish to deny'!"—By W. E. Norris.