For God alone is mighty,
The Lord of the sea,
The Lord of the land!"
As Quincy resumed his seat, Alice clapped her hands to show her
approbation of his oratorical effort. Then they both sat in silence for
a few minutes, each evidently absorbed in thought.
Suddenly Alice spoke:
"And now, Mr. Sawyer, will you let me ask you a serious question? If I
continue writing pieces like these, can I hope to earn enough from it to
support myself?"
Quincy thought for a moment, and then said, "I am afraid not. If you
would allow me to take them to Boston the next time I go I will try and
find out their market value, but editors usually say that poetry is a
drug, and they have ten times as much offered them as they can find room
for. On the other hand, stories, especially short ones, are eagerly
sought and good prices paid for them. Did you ever think of writing a
story, Miss Pettengill?"
"Oh, yes!" said Alice, "I have several blocked out, I call it, in my own
mind, but it is such a task for me to write that I dare not undertake
them. If I could afford to pay an amanuensis it would be different.
Pages:
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275