perate with me in the plan. Let's
chuck out some of this slush that you've been publishing just because
the writers are related to the Skoopdoodles of Skoopdoodle County. Are
you with me?"

"As long as I continue to be the editor of The Rose," said Colonel
Telfair, with dignity, "I shall be its editor. But I desire also to
conform to the wishes of its owners if I can do so conscientiously."

"That's the talk," said Thacker, briskly. "Now, how much of this stuff
I've brought can we get into the January number? We want to begin
right away."

"There is yet space in the January number," said the editor, "for
about eight thousand words, roughly estimated."

"Great!" said Thacker. "It isn't much, but it'll give the readers
some change from goobers, governors, and Gettysburg. I'll leave the
selection of the stuff I brought to fill the space to you, as it's all
good. I've got to run back to New York, and I'll be down again in a
couple of weeks."

Colonel Telfair slowly swung his eye-glasses by their broad, black
ribbon.

"The space in the January number that I referred to," said he,
measuredly, "has been held open purposely, pending a decision that
I have not yet made. A short time ago a contribution was submitted
to _The Rose of Dixie_ that is one of the most remarkable literary
efforts that has ever come under my observation. None but a master
mind and talent could have produced it. It would just fill the space
that I have reserved for its possible use."

Thacker looked anxious.

"What kind of stuff is it?" he asked. "Eight thousand words sounds
suspicious. The oldest families must have been collaborating. Is there
going to be another secession?"

"The author of the article," continued the colonel, ignoring Thacker's
allusions, "is a writer of some reputation. He has also distinguished
himself in other ways. I do not feel at liberty to reveal to you his
name--at least not until I have decided whether or not to accept his
contribution."

"Well," said Thacker, nervously, "is it a continued story, or an
account of the unveiling of the new town pump in Whitmire, South
Carolina, or a revised list of General Lee's body-servants, or what?"

"You are disposed to be facetious," said Colonel Telfair, calmly.
"The article is from the pen of a thinker, a philosopher, a lover of
mankind, a student, and a rhetorician of high degree."

"It must have been written by a syndicate," said Thacker. "But,
honestly, Colonel, you wa