United States -- Social life and customs -- 20th century -- Fiction
Her heart was brimming with joy. “I can get a cheaper boarding place,”
she told herself, as she joined the home-going crowds, “and until
something else turns up I'll just look around and see if I can't get a
place in a store.”
* * * * *
One by one they had gathered around while the woman was telling the
story. “And so, if you don't mind,” she said, in conclusion, “I'd like
to have you put in a little piece that I got to Denver safe, so's they
can see it. They was all so worked up about when I'd get here. Would
that cost much?” she asked timidly.
“Not a cent,” said the city editor, his voice gruff with the attempt to
keep it steady.
“You might say, if it wouldn't take too much room, that I was much
pleased with the prospect of getting home before sundown to-night.”
“You needn't worry but what we'll say it all,” he assured her. “We'll
say a great deal more than you have any idea of.”
“I'm very thankful to you,” she said, as she rose to go.
They sat there for a moment in silence. “When one considers,” someone
began, “that they were people who were pushed too close even to
subscribe to a daily paper--”
“When one considers,” said the city editor, “that the girl who started
it had just eleven dollars to her name--” And then he, too, stopped
abruptly and there was another long moment of silence.
After that he looked around at the reporters. “Well, it's too bad you
can't all have it, when it's so big a chance, but I guess it falls
logically to Raymond. And in writing it, just remember, Raymond, that
the biggest stories are not written about wars, or about politics, or
even murders. The biggest stories are written about the things which
draw human beings closer together. And the chance to write them doesn't
come every day, or every year, or every lifetime. And I'll tell you,
boys, all of you, when it seems sometimes that the milk of human
kindness has all turned sour, just think back to the little story you
heard this afternoon.”
* * * * *
Slowly the sun slipped down behind the mountains; slowly the long
purple shadows deepened to black; and with the coming of the night there
settled over the everlasting hills, and over the soul of one who had
returned to them, that satisfying calm that men call peace.
IV
FRECKLES M'GRATH
Many visitors to the State-house made the mistake of looking upon the
Governor as the most important personage in the building. They would
walk up and down the corridors, hoping for a glimpse of some of the
leading officials, when all the while Freckles McGrath, the real
character of the Capitol, and by all odds the most illustrious person in
it, was at once accessible and affable.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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