ass on matter sent him; but my
waiting did seem out of all reason. I was too busy keeping my cabin and
doing field work to repine; but I decided in my own mind that Mr.
Maxwell was a 'mean old thing' to throw away my story and keep the
return postage. Besides, I was deeply chagrined, for I had thought
quite well of my effort myself, and this seemed to prove that I did not
know even the first principles of what would be considered an
interesting story.

"Then one day in September I went into our store on an errand and the
manager said to me: 'I read your story in the Metropolitan last night.
It was great! Did you ever write any fiction before?'

"My head whirled, but I had learned to keep my own counsels, so I said
as lightly as I could, while my heart beat until I feared he could hear
it: 'No. Just a simple little thing! Have you any spare copies? My
sister might want one.'

"He supplied me, so I hurried home, and shutting myself in the library,
I sat down to look my first attempt at fiction in the face. I quite
agreed with the manager that it was 'great.' Then I wrote Mr. Maxwell a
note telling him that I had seen my story in his magazine, and saying
that I was glad he liked it enough to use it. I had not known a letter
could reach New York and bring a reply so quickly as his answer came.
It was a letter that warmed the deep of my heart. Mr. Maxwell wrote
that he liked my story very much, but the office boy had lost or
destroyed my address with the wrappings, so after waiting a reasonable
length of time to hear from me, he had illustrated it the best he
could, and printed it. He wrote that so many people had spoken to him
of a new, fresh note in it, that he wished me to consider doing him
another in a similar vein for a Christmas leader and he enclosed my
very first check for fiction.

"So I wrote: 'How Laddie and the Princess Spelled Down at the Christmas
Bee.' Mr. Maxwell was pleased to accept that also, with what I
considered high praise, and to ask me to furnish the illustrations. He
specified that he wanted a frontispiece, head and tail pieces, and six
or seven other illustrations. Counting out the time for his letter to
reach me, and the material to return, I was left with just ONE day in
which to secure the pictures. They had to be of people costumed in the
time of the early seventies and I was short of print paper and
chemicals. First, I telephoned to Fort Wayne for the material I wanted
to be sent without