ublisher about it.

*****

To Frederick A. Duneka, in New York:

Oct. 2, '05.

DEAR MR. DUNEKA,--I have just finished a short story which I "greatly
admire," and so will you--"A Horse's Tale"--about 15,000 words, at
a rough guess. It has good fun in it, and several characters, and is
lively. I shall finish revising it in a few days or more, then Jean will
type it.

Don't you think you can get it into the Jan. and Feb. numbers and issue
it as a dollar booklet just after the middle of Jan. when you issue the
Feb. number?

It ought to be ably illustrated.

Why not sell simultaneous rights, for this once, to the Ladies' Home
Journal or Collier's, or both, and recoup yourself?--for I would like
to get it to classes that can't afford Harper's. Although it doesn't
preach, there's a sermon concealed in it.

Yr sincerely,
MARK.

Five days later he added some rather interesting facts concerning
the new story.

*****

To F. A. Duneka, in New York:

Oct. 7, 1906. ['05]

DEAR MR. DUNEKA,--... I've made a poor guess as to number of words.
I think there must be 20,000. My usual page of MS. contains about 130
words; but when I am deeply interested in my work and dead to everything
else, my hand-writing shrinks and shrinks until there's a great deal
more than 130 on a page--oh, yes, a deal more. Well, I discover, this
morning, that this tale is written in that small hand.

This strong interest is natural, for the heroine is my daughter, Susy,
whom we lost. It was not intentional--it was a good while before I found
it out.

So I am sending you her picture to use--and to reproduce with
photographic exactness the unsurpassable expression and all. May you
find an artist who has lost an idol!

Take as good care of the picture as you can and restore it to me when I
come.

I hope you will illustrate this tale considerably. Not humorous
pictures. No. When they are good (or bad) one's humor gets no chance to
play surprises on the reader. A humorous subject illustrated seriously
is all right, but a humorous artist is no fit person for such work. You
see, the humorous writer pretends to absolute seriousness (when he
knows his trade) then for an artist--to step in and give his calculated
gravity all away with a funny picture--oh, my land! It