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a good while； and here comes Mr。 Darwin on deck with an armful of
sticks and says； 〃Let's build a raft； and trust ourselves to that。〃
If your ship springs a leak； what would you do？
He looked me straight in the eyes for about half a minute。…If I
heard the pumps going； I'd look and see whether they were gaining on
the leak or not。 If they were gaining I'd stay where I was。…Go and
find out what's the matter with that young woman。
I had noticed that the Young Girlthe storywriter； our Scheherezade；
as I called herlooked as if she had been crying or lying awake half
the night。 I found on asking her；for she is an honest little body
and is disposed to be confidential with me for some reason or other；
that she had been doing both。
And what was the matter now； I questioned her in a semi…paternal
kind of way； as soon as I got a chance for a few quiet words with
her。
She was engaged to write a serial story； it seems； and had only got
as far as the second number； and some critic had been jumping upon
it； she said； and grinding his heel into it； till she couldn't bear
to look at it。 He said she did not write half so well as half a
dozen other young women。 She did n't write half so well as she used
to write herself。 She hadn't any characters and she had n't any
incidents。 Then he went to work to show how her story was coming
out； trying to anticipate everything she could make of it； so that
her readers should have nothing to look forward to； and he should
have credit for his sagacity in guessing； which was nothing so very
wonderful； she seemed to think。 Things she had merely hinted and
left the reader to infer； he told right out in the bluntest and
coarsest way。 It had taken all the life out of her； she said。 It
was just as if at a dinner…party one of the guests should take a
spoonful of soup and get up and say to the company； 〃Poor stuff； poor
stuff； you won't get anything better； let's go somewhere else where
things are fit to eat。〃
What do you read such things for； my dear？ said I。
The film glistened in her eyes at the strange sound of those two soft
words； she had not heard such very often； I am afraid。
I know I am a foolish creature to read them； she answered；but I
can't help it； somebody always sends me everything that will make me
wretched to read； and so I sit down and read it； and ache all over
for my pains； and lie awake all night。
She smiled faintly as she said this； for she saw the sub…ridiculous
side of it； but the film glittered still in her eyes。 There are a
good many real miseries in life that we cannot help smiling at； but
they are the smiles that make wrinkles and not dimples。 〃Somebody
always sends her everything that will make her wretched。〃 Who can
those creatures be who cut out the offensive paragraph and send it
anonymously to us； who mail the newspaper which has the article we
had much better not have seen； who take care that we shall know
everything which can； by any possibility； help to make us
discontented with ourselves and a little less light…hearted than we
were before we had been fools enough to open their incendiary
packages？ I don't like to say it to myself； but I cannot help
suspecting； in this instance； the doubtful…looking personage who sits
on my left； beyond the Scarabee。 I have some reason to think that he
has made advances to the Young Girl which were not favorably
received； to state the case in moderate terms； and it may be that he
is taking his revenge in cutting up the poor girl's story。 I know
this very well； that some personal pique or favoritism is at the
bottom of half the praise and dispraise which pretend to be so very
ingenuous and discriminating。 （Of course I have been thinking all
this time and telling you what I thought。）
What you want is encouragement； my dear； said I；I know that as
well； as you。 I don't think the fellows that write such criticisms
as you tell me of want to correct your faults。 I don't mean to say
that you can learn nothing from them； because they are not all fools
by any means； and they will often pick out your weak points with a
malignant sagacity； as a pettifogging lawyer will frequently find a
real flaw in trying to get at everything he can quibble about。 But
is there nobody who will praise you generously when you do well；
nobody that will lend you a hand now while you want it；or must they
all wait until you have made yourself a name among strangers； and
then all at once find out that you have something in you？
Oh；said the girl； and the bright film gathered too fast for her
young eyes to hold much longer；I ought not to be ungrateful！ I
have found the kindest friend in the world。 Have you ever heard the
Ladythe one that I sit next to at the tablesay anything about me？
I have not really made her acquaintance； I said。 She seems to me a
little distant in her manners and I have respected her pretty evident
liking for keeping mostly to herself。
Oh； but when you once do know her！ I don't believe I could write
stories all the time as I do； if she didn't ask me up to her chamber；
and let me read them to her。 Do you know； I can make her laugh and
cry； reading my poor stories？ And sometimes； when I feel as if I had
written out all there is in me； and want to lie down and go to sleep
and never wake up except in a world where there are no weekly
papers；when everything goes wrong； like a car off the track；she
takes hold and sets me on the rails again all right。
How does she go to work to help you？
Why； she listens to my stories； to begin with； as if she really
liked to hear them。 And then you know I am dreadfully troubled now
and then with some of my characters； and can't think how to get rid
of them。 And she'll say； perhaps； Don't shoot your villain this
time； you've shot three or four already in the last six weeks； let
his mare stumble and throw him and break his neck。 Or she'll give me
a hint about some new way for my lover to make a declaration。 She
must have had a good many offers； it's my belief； for she has told me
a dozen different ways for me to use in my stories。 And whenever I
read a story to her； she always laughs and cries in the right places；
and that's such a comfort； for there are some people that think
everything pitiable is so funny； and will burst out laughing when
poor Rip Van Winkleyou've seen Mr。 Jefferson； haven't you？is
breaking your heart for you if you have one。 Sometimes she takes a
poem I have written and reads it to me so beautifully； that I fall in
love with it； and sometimes she sets my verses to music and sings
them to me。
You have a laugh together sometimes； do you？
Indeed we do。 I write for what they call the 〃Comic Department〃 of
the paper now and then。 If I did not get so tired of story…telling；
I suppose I should be gayer than I am； but as it is； we two get a
little fun out of my comic pieces。 I begin them half…crying
sometimes； but after they are done they amuse me。 I don't suppose my
comic pieces are very laughable； at any rate the man who makes a
business of writing me down says the last one I wrote is very
melancholy reading； and that if it was only a little better