Page 329 - Little Women by Louisa May Alcott

pleted her discomfiture. Half resolving never to return, she went home, and worked off her irritation by stitching pinafores vigor- ously, and in an hour or two was cool enough to laugh over the scene and long for next week. When she went again, Mr. Dashwood was alone, whereat she re- joiced. Mr. Dashwood was much wider awake than before, which was agreeable, and Mr. Dashwood was not too deeply absorbed in a cigar to remember his manners, so the second interview was much more comfortable than the first. "We'll take this (editors never say I), if you don't object to a few alterations. It's too long, but omitting the passages I've marked will make it just the right length," he said, in a businesslike tone. Jo hardly knew her own MS. again, so crumpled and under- scored were its pages and paragraphs, but feeling as a tender par- ent might on being asked to cut off her baby's legs in order that it might fit into a new cradle, she looked at the marked passages and was surprised to find that all the moral reflections—which she had carefully put in as ballast for much romance—had been stricken out. "But, Sir, I thought every story should have some sort of a moral, so I took care to have a few of my sinners repent." Mr. Dashwoods's editorial gravity relaxed into a smile, for Jo had forgotten her 'friend', and spoken as only an author could. "People want to be amused, not preached at, you know. Morals don't sell nowadays." Which was not quite a correct statement, by the way. "You think it would do with these alterations, then?" "Yes, it's a new plot, and pretty well worked up—language good, and so on," was Mr. Dashwood's affable reply. "What do you—that is, what compensation—" began Jo, not ex- actly knowing how to express herself. "Oh, yes, well, we give from twenty-five to thirty for things of this sort. Pay when it comes out," returned Mr. Dashwood, as if that point had escaped him. Such trifles do escape the editorial mind, it is said. "Very well, you can have it," said Jo, handing back the story with a satisfied air, for after the dollar-a-column work, even twen- ty-five seemed good pay. "Shall I tell my friend you will take another if she has one better than this?" asked Jo, unconscious of her little slip of the tongue, and emboldened by her success. "Well, we'll look at it. Can't promise to take it. Tell her to make it short and spicy, and never mind the moral. What name would 327 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT