The Great God Success

d asked him to seat himself. He talked in a low tone so that the Assista

is profession. You write well enough, but you do not seem to get the newspaper-the news-idea. So we feel that in justice to you and to ourselves we ought to let you know where you stand. If you wish, we shall be glad to hav

way or rewritten by the copyreaders, had prepared him for the blow. Ye

ou for taking the trouble to stu

ontinued. "We can make you useful to us. And you can look ab

," Howard said, "unless

may be very grateful before long for finding out so early what many

ght? Was he wrong in thinking that journalism offered the most splendid of careers-the development of the mind and the character; the sharpening of all the faculties; the ser

he thought, "that I cannot survive in a profession where the poorest are so p

e several hundred items before the eyes of the reader-what they displayed on each page and why; how they apportioned the space. With the energy of unconquerable resolut

opportunities which Mr. Bowring gave him. With only six days of his two weeks left, he had succeeded in getting into the paper not a single item of a length greater than two sticks. He slept little; he despaired not at all; but he was heart-sick and, as he lay in his bed in the little hall-room of the furnished-room house, he often envied women the

upon the folly, in this profession. I'll give you a note to Montgomery-he's City Editor over at the World-shop-and he'll take you on. In some ways you will do better there. You'll rise faster, get a wider experience, make more

his tone corresponding to the look in his e

led him up to the City Desk and gave

r 29-Willie Dent, th

r living two miles fr

esterday and has not

him. Several hundred

g, and the mountain

ild c

s in the Herald

tory-if it is not a 'fake,' as I strongly suspect. Telegraph your story

ht Howard as he turned away. "If Bowring had not been all but s

t out of an observation his father had made to him just before he died: "Remember that ninety per cent of these fourteen hundred million human beings are uncertain where to-morrow's food is to come from. Be prudent but never be afraid." But just th

of the early morning. As he alighted upon the station platform

man named Dent lost in

ago," replied

ey found

will alive-tha

o hundred men were still searching. "And Mrs. Dent, she's been sittin' by the window, list'nin' day and night. She won't speak nor eat and she a

men were standing about the threshold. At the window within view of the road and the mountains sat the mother-a young woman with large brown eyes, and clear-cut features

Peak and Cloudy Peak-the wildest wilderness in the mountains. The light barely penetrates the foliage on the

amp surrounded by cedars. They half-crawled, half-climbed through the low t

. His gingham dress was torn and wet and stained. His small hands were smears of dirt and blood. He was playing with a tin can. He had put a stone into it and was making a great rattling. The dog was

dog began to bark angrily, but

" he said. "

d him up-the gingham

asked the man,

" Then the child began to sob. "It was dark,

saw the boy in the arms of the man who had found him. They shouted and the mother sprang out of the house and came ru

aby!" sh

out his thin, blood-stained arms. She ran tow

sobbed, hiding his f

he search, the wait, the listening mother, scene by scene, ending with mother and child together again and the dog racing around them, with wagging tail and hanging tongue. He wrote swiftly, making no changes, without a trace of his usual self-consciousness in composition. When he had done

asleep. At eleven the next morning a knocking awakened him from a sound sleep that had restored and refreshed him. "A mess

t. It is one of the best, if not the best, we have had the pleasure of publ

ht on' at last. I'm glad to take

C. BO