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TALES FROM A ROLLTOP DESK

She hurried to the little white enamelled desk, the same desk where the ill-starred "Three Is Company" had been written.

"This will cure me of trying to write," she thought; "why, I never heard of such a thing—to have one's first story accepted! Mr. Edwards must be mad."

Luckily there was one sheet of her engraved stationery left—the paper that Godfrey had given her, she thought remorsefully. All about her were evidences of his loving care, and she had repaid him by undermining his prestige with the one editor who had been nice to him. A fine way for an author's wife to behave! She seized her pen and wrote:

Dear Mr. Edwards:
As I just told you over the phone, there has been some horrible mistake. How it happened I can't guess. The manuscript you sent back to me is Mr. Hemming's story. The one you say you like and want me to study as a model is my own story, "Three Is Company". I'm sorry you like it, I mean I'm sorry you think it is better than Mr. Hemming's story, which can't be so as it is the first story I ever tried to write. I have decided to withdraw it, I don't want it published, so please send it back to me instantly, and write me a letter saying how amateurish it is. I am sending Mr. Hemming's story back to you, so that now you know who wrote it you can reconsider it. Of course, if you thought it was by me, you naturally considered it as the work of a be-