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converged。 There were the village people； including a number of
cultivated families； there were the visitors； among them many
accomplished and widely travelled persons； there was the University；
with its learned teachers and aspiring young men； there was the
Corinna Institute； with its eager； ambitious； hungry…souled young
women； crowding on； class after class coming forward on the broad
stream of liberal culture； and rounding the point which； once passed；
the boundless possibilities of womanhood opened before them。 All
this furnished material enough and to spare for the records and the
archives of the society。
The new Secretary infused fresh life into the meetings。 It may be
remembered that the girls had said of her； when she was The Terror；
that 〃she knew everything and didn't believe anything。〃 That was
just the kind of person for a secretary of such an association。
Properly interpreted； the saying meant that she knew a great deal；
and wanted to know a great deal more； and was consequently always on
the lookout for information； that she believed nothing without
sufficient proof that it was true； and therefore was perpetually
asking for evidence where； others took assertions on trust。
It was astonishing to see what one little creature like The Terror
could accomplish in the course of a single season。 She found out
what each member could do and wanted to do。 She wrote to the outside
visitors whom she suspected of capacity； and urged them to speak at
the meetings； or send written papers to be read。 As an official；
with the printed title at the head of her notes； PANSOPHIAN SOCIETY；
she was a privileged personage。 She begged the young persons who had
travelled to tell something of their experiences。 She had
contemplated getting up a discussion on the woman's rights question；
but being a wary little body； and knowing that the debate would
become a dispute and divide the members into two hostile camps； she
deferred this project indefinitely。 It would be time enough after
she had her team well in hand； she said to herself；had felt their
mouths and tried their paces。 This expression； as she used it in her
thoughts； seems rather foreign to her habits； but there was room in
her large brain for a wide range of illustrations and an ample
vocabulary。 She could not do much with her own muscles； but she had
known the passionate delight of being whirled furiously over the road
behind four scampering horses； in a rocking stage…coach； and thought
of herself in the Secretary's chair as not unlike the driver on his
box。 A few weeks of rest had allowed her nervous energy to store
itself up； and the same powers which had distanced competition in the
classes of her school had of necessity to expend themselves in
vigorous action in her new office。
Her appeals had their effect。 A number of papers were very soon sent
in； some with names； some anonymously。 She looked these papers over；
and marked those which she thought would be worth reading and
listening to at the meetings。 One of them has just been presented to
the reader。 As to the authorship of the following one there were
many conjectures。 A well…known writer； who had spent some weeks at
Arrowhead Village； was generally suspected of being its author。
Some； however； questioned whether it was not the work of a new hand；
who wrote； not from experience； but from his or her ideas of the
condition to which a story…teller； a novelist； must in all
probability be sooner or later reduced。 The reader must judge for
himself whether this first paper is the work of an old hand or a
novice。
SOME EXPERIENCES OF A NOVELIST。
〃I have written a frightful number of stories； forty or more； I
think。 Let me see。 For twelve years two novels a year regularly：
that makes twenty…four。 In three different years I have written
three stories annually： that makes thirty…three。 In five years one a
year；thirty…eight。 That is all； is n't it？ Yes。 Thirty…eight；
not forty。 I wish I could make them all into one composite story； as
Mr。 Galton does his faces。
〃Heroheroinemammapapaunclesister； and so on。 Love
obstaclesmiserytearsdespairglimmer of hopeunexpected
solution of difficultieshappy finale。
〃Landscape for background according to season。 Plants of each month
got up from botanical calendars。
〃I should like much to see the composite novel。 Why not apply Mr。
Galton's process； and get thirty…eight stories all in one？ All the
Yankees would resolve into one Yankee； all the P West Britons
into one Patrick； etc。； what a saving of time it would be！
〃I got along pretty well with my first few stories。 I had some
characters around me which； a little disguised； answered well enough。
There was the minister of the parish； and there was an old
schoolmaster either of them served very satisfactorily for
grandfathers and old uncles。 All I had to do was to shift some of
their leading peculiarities； keeping the rest。 The old minister wore
knee…breeches。 I clapped them on to the schoolmaster。 The
schoolmaster carried a tall gold…headed cane。 I put this in the
minister's hands。 So with other things；I shifted them round； and
got a set of characters who； taken together； reproduced the chief
persons of the village where I lived； but did not copy any individual
exactly。 Thus it went on for a while； but by and by my stock company
began to be rather too familiarly known； in spite of their change of
costume； and at last some altogether too sagacious person published
what he called a 'key' to several of my earlier stories； in which I
found the names of a number of neighbors attached to aliases of my
own invention。 All the 'types；' as he called them； represented by
these personages of my story had come to be recognized； each as
standing for one and the same individual of my acquaintance。 It had
been of no use to change the costume。 Even changing the sex did no
good。 I had a famous old gossip in one of my tales；a much…babbling
Widow Sertingly。 'Sho！' they all said； that 's old Deacon Spinner；
the same he told about in that other story of his；only the deacon's
got on a petticoat and a mob…cap；but it's the same old sixpence。'
So I said to myself； I must have some new characters。 I had no
trouble with young characters； they are all pretty much alike；dark…
haired or light…haired； with the outfits belonging to their
complexion； respectively。 I had an old great…aunt； who was a tip…top
eccentric。 I had never seen anything just like her in books。 So I
said； I will have you； old lady； in one of my stories； and； sure
enough； I fitted her out with a first…rate odd…sounding name； which I
got from the directory； and sent her forth to the world； disguised；
as I supposed； beyond the possibility of recognition。 The book sold
well； and the eccentric personage was voted a novelty。 A few weeks
after it was published a lawyer called upon me； as the agent of the
person in the directory； whose family name I had used； as he
maintained； to his and all his relatives' great damage； wrong； loss；
grief； shame； and irreparable injury； for which the sum of blank
thousand dollars would be a modest compensation。 The story made the
book sell； but not enough to pay blank thousand dollars。 In the mean
time a cousin of mine had sniffed out the resemblance between the
character in my book and our great…aunt。 We were rivals in her good
graces。 'Cousin Pansie' spoke to her of my book and the trouble it
was bringing on me；she was so sorry about it！ She liked my story；
only those personalities； you know。 'What personalities？' says old
granny…aunt。 'Why； auntie； dear； they do say that he has brought in
everybody we know；did n't anybody tell you aboutwell；I suppose
you ought to know it；did n't anybody tell you you were made fun of
in that novel？' Somebodyno matter whohappened to hear all this；
and told me。 She said granny…aunt's withered old face had two red
spots come to it； as if she had been painting her cheeks from a pink
saucer。 No； she said； not a pink saucer； but as if they were two
coals of fire。 She sent out and got the book； and made her （the
somebody that I was speaking of） read it to her。 When she had heard
as much as she could stand；for 'Cousin Pansie' explained passages
to her；explained； you know；she sent for her lawyer； and that same
somebody had to be a witness to a new will she had drawn up。 It was
not to my advantage。 'Cousin Pansie' got the corner lot where the
grocery is； and pretty much everything else。 The old woman left me a
legacy。 What do you think it was？ An old set of my own books； that
looked as if it had been bought out of a bankrupt circulating
library。
〃After that I grew more careful。 I studied my disguises much more
diligently。 But after all； what could I do？ Here I was； writing
stories for my living and my reputation。 I made a pretty sum enou