pted, but when he sent to a New York magazine
a poem which he considered a gem, the promptness with which it was
returned staggered his conceit and was in that respect a good thing for
him.

However, he kept on trying. Helen would not have permitted him to
give up even if he had wished. She was quite as much interested in his
literary aspirations as he was himself and her encouragement was a great
help to him. After months of repeated trial and repeated rejection he
opened an envelope bearing the name of a fairly well-known periodical to
find therein a kindly note stating that his poem, "Sea Spaces" had been
accepted. And a week later came a check for ten dollars. That was a day
of days. Incidentally it was the day of a trial balance in the office
and the assistant bookkeeper's additions and multiplications contained
no less than four ghastly errors.

The next afternoon there was an interview in the back office. Captain
Zelotes and his grandson were the participants. The subject discussed
was "Business versus Poetry," and there was a marked difference of
opinion. Albert had proclaimed his triumph at home, of course, had
exhibited his check, had been the recipient of hugs and praises from his
grandmother and had listened to paeans and hallelujahs from Mrs. Ellis.
When he hurried around to the parsonage after supper, Helen had been
excited and delighted at the good news. Albert had been patted on the
back quite as much as was good for a young man whose bump of self-esteem
was not inclined toward under-development. When he entered the private
office of Z. Snow and Co. in answer to his grandfather's summons, he did
so light-heartedly, triumphantly, with self-approval written large upon
him.

But though he came like a conquering hero, he was not received like one.
Captain Zelotes sat at his desk, the copy of the Boston morning paper
which he had been reading sticking out of the waste basket into which
it had been savagely jammed a half hour before. The news had not been to
the captain's liking. These were the September days of 1914; the German
Kaiser was marching forward "mit Gott" through Belgium, and it began to
look as if he could not be stopped short of Paris. Consequently, Captain
Zelotes, his sympathies from the first with England and the Allies, was
not happy in his newspaper reading.

Albert entered, head erect and eyes shining. If Gertie Kendrick could
have seen him then she would have fallen down and worshiped.