BOTH LITERARY.

Hastings Standard, Volume XIII, Issue 4310, 13 November 1909, Page 4 (Supplement)

BOTH LITERARY.

She was a literary young wo^an, and she had quarrelled with her iiterarv lover even more fiercely than was their wont Tier dearest oominr on the morning of the third day to hear about it lor the *tweratit*'fcit tirnt?, found her melancholy, but composed. es, its all over/" .she sighed, "ad 1 can never be happy again. "Why. I haven t oven curled my hair for two days, and when I loand three, typographical errors in my poem on 'Sorrow" I didn't even write- to the editor about it.'*'

"He never was half good enough for you," said her friend consolingly. "Tom said so only yesterday."

"What else did lie say?" demanded the literary young woman. "Not that anything* matters to me now."

"He said that you are as pretty as a picture, and that you were a great real better than Dick ever dared to."

'"Did he, really? By the way, is my hair frightfully out of "curl?" ''Not at all; but you look pale."' "Of course; my heart is broken. V\ hat else did Tom sav?"

"Hint lie saw Dick driving with Laura Briggs the day before."' '"He did. did he? Well, Laura Briggs can have him. if she wants him. I'm sure I don't/' and she burst into tears. "Of course, you don't. And Tom wanted to know when you would publish another oi your delightful stories." 'Did he, indeed? I think a great deal of Tom's literary judgment; much more than I do of Dick's. He always '.'riticizes my stories. But I'll get even with him." "How? Do tell me." "I vo a letter here from the editor of the 'W eeklv Lollipop,' asking for a story, avid I intend to take Dick for the hero and make it so like him that everybody will recognise him and just hold him up to public fjt'orn." "Oli, 'what a genius you are." '■Yes. and I will even'make use of his letters."

"How perfectly splendid! Begin right away. Don't mind me. ' "I wiii. By the way, here is the last number of the 'Lollipop/' I haven't read it yet : it may amuse you." "Thanks. Oh, I eee it has one of Dick's stories in it."

"Indeed! I'm surprised that they published it ; nobody cares to read liis work. I'm sure. Just let me look at it, w'ill you?" A few moment? later there was n loud cry. and the literary young woman sorang to her feet, upsetting the inkbottle as she did so. "Tha_wretch, the brute, the monster!" she cried, wildly. "What is it?" Oh, what has he rlone?"

"He has made nie the heroine of his story, and used every hitter he ever wrote me in it."

THE WORM TURNED. He was a suburban amateur gardener. whose pride in his tiny rjaiden was apt to bore his friends. Tho other day lie had taken a visitor round his retreat, expatiating at length on the four ro.se-trees, pocket shruhber.y. hall-inch fountain jet, with its basin and pair of goldfish, and the sam-mer-house which ivould almost admit two persons at once. The long-suffering viitor endured itnil without retort, until he was asked to admire a twenty-foot '"vista." Then the worm turned. 'The 'grounds' are certainly very handsome,'' lie said, "but I think you might improve them considerably." "How sn?" queried the owner, divided between gratification and wondered pride. '"Well, if I were you," suggested his <-ritic. blandly, "1 should ta£o a. strip off that flower-bed—say four inches wide - turf it over, and convert it into golf links!'"

Fond Mother: "How do you like your new governess, Johnny?'' Johnny: "Oh, I like her ever so mil eli!" " I am so glad my little boy has a nice teacher at last." "Oh, she's awful nice! She says she don't care whether I learn anything or not, so long as father pays her salary!"