original ideas and second thoughts so harmonious. How do you
manage it, Miss Pettengill?"

"Oh, I don't know," replied Alice, with a smile, "unless it is that I
keep my original ideas in my mind until they reach the stage of second
thoughts, and then I have them written down."

"You will find Miss Pettengill very exact in dictation," said Quincy to
Rosa. "I took that long story there down in pencil, and I don't think I
was obliged to change a dozen words."

"To work with Miss Pettengill," remarked Rosa, "will be more of a
pleasure than a task."

This idea was re-echoed in Quincy's mind, and for a moment he had a
feeling of positive envy towards Miss Very. Then he thought that hers
was paid service, while his had been a labor--of love. Yes, it might as
well be put that way.

The sun had sunk quite low in the west when the second story, Her Native
Land, was completed. "How dramatic!" cried Rosa; "the endings of those
chapters are as strong as stage tableaus."

"It is being dramatized by Jameson of the 'Daily Universe,'" said
Quincy.

"I am well acquainted with Mr. Jameson," remarked Rosa; "I belong to a
social club of which he is the president. He is a very talented young
man and a great worker. He once told me that when he began newspaper
work he wrote eighteen hours out of twenty-four for a month, and nearly
every night he woke up and made notes that he wrote out in the morning.
Do you believe in unconscious mental cerebration, Mr. Sawyer?"

"I'm afraid not," replied Quincy, laughing; "I never had ideas enough to
keep my brain busy all day, much less supply it with work at night."

"Mr. Sawyer is always unfair to himself," remarked Alice to Miss Very.
"As for myself, I will answer your question in the affirmative. I have
often gone to bed with only the general idea of a story in my mind, and
have awakened with the details all thought out and properly placed."

"I think it best to postpone the reading of the last story until after
supper," said Quincy.

Alice assented, and, turning to Rosa, asked, "Do you like the country,
Miss Very?"

"To speak honestly," replied Rosa, "I do not. I told Mr. Sawyer so on
the train. It is hotter in the country than it is in the city. I can't
bear the ticking of a clock in my room, and I think crickets and owls
are more nerve-destroying than clocks, and I positively detest anything
that buzzes and stings, like bees, and wasps, and hornets."

"But don't you like cows, and sh