I have
returned a hundred of them since without a word of encouragement to
the writers, blissfully forgetful of the fact (now brought to light)
that I, too, had begun like that.
And last of all, in this locked cabinet I came upon an actual
contribution, one of the fifteen which had gone the rounds and had
been put away, perhaps for a re-writing.... Dear, dear! I must have
been very hopeful in those days. Youth and hope--I am afraid that
those were my only qualifications for setting the Thames on fire.
Yet I was very scornful of editors seventeen years ago. The outsider,
I held forth, was not given a chance; the young writer with fresh
ideas was cold-shouldered. Well, well! Reading this early contribution
of mine seventeen years later, reading again what editors had to say
about it, I am no longer scornful of them. I can only wonder why they
hoped that I would go on writing.
But I shall not throw the broken cabinet away, even though it is no
longer available for secret papers.
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