"And, Katy, you'll be
careful? That editor must think that 'Jane Meredith' is full of
years and ripe experience. I probably wouldn't get ten cents, no
not even a for-nothing chance, if he knew those articles were
written by a Junior."
"Junior nothing!" scoffed Katy. "There was not a day of his life
that your pa did not spend hours drillin' ye in things the rest
of the girls in your school never heard of. 'Tain't no
high-school girl that's written them articles. It's Alexander
Strong speakin' through the medium of his own flesh and blood."
"Why, so it is, Katy!" cried Linda delightedly. "You know, I
never thought of that. I have been so egoistical I thought I was
doing them myself."
"Paid ye anything yet?" queried Katy.
"No," said Linda, "they haven't. It seems that the amount of
interest the articles evoke is going to decide what I am to be
paid for them, but they certainly couldn't take the recipe and
the comments and the sketch for less than twenty-five or thirty
dollars, unless recipes are like poetry. Peter said the other
day that if a poet did not have some other profession to support
him, he would starve to death on all he was paid for writing the
most beautiful things that ever are written in all this world.
Peter says even an effort to write a poem is a beautiful thing."
"Well, maybe that used to be the truth," said Katy as she started
toward the door, "but I have been reading some things labeled
'poetry' in the magazines of late, and if the holy father knows
what they mean, he's even bigger than ever I took him to be.
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