interesting and beautiful among women."

She kept her spirit young to the last, so that no one could ever think
of her as an old woman, and young people always enjoyed her company.

As to her literary accomplishments, had she chosen to devote her time
and strength to the development of her own talents, instead of using
them, as has been the wont of women since the world began, in the
support and encouragement of others, there is no saying how far she
might have gone, for she had an active, creative imagination, and a
discriminating, critical judgment of style. As it was, her writings
were not extensive, and were almost all produced under the spur of
some particular need. They consist of:

Several fairy stories published years ago in _Our Young Folks_ and
_St. Nicholas_, magazines for young people.

_The Dynamiter_, written in collaboration with her husband.

Introductions to her husband's works.

A number of short stories in _Scribner's_ and _McClure's_ magazines,
among which "Anne" and "The Half-White" attracted the most attention.

_The Cruise of the Janet Nichol_, a posthumous work.

Her own estimate of her talents and achievements was extremely modest,
and it was always with the greatest reluctance that she put pen to
paper. Yet she was intensely proud of the work of any member of her
family--whether it might be sister, daughter, son, nephew, or
grandson--and seemed to get more happiness out of anything we did than
from her own work.

She was appalled at the great flood of mediocre writing that has been
pouring over the United States in the last decade or two, and speaks
of it thus in a letter written to Mr. Scribner from her quiet haven at
Sausal:

"If I had a magazine of my own I should bar from its pages any story
in which a young woman urges a young man to 'do things' when he
doesn't have to. There would also be a list of words and phrases that
I would not have within my covers. But, if I had a magazine what would
become of my peace and quiet that I care so much for? No--no such
strenuous life for me! They may call houses 'homes' and spell words so
that children and foreigners must be unable to find out how to
pronounce them--I need not know of such annoyances in El Sausal unless
I choose. I have before me a great pile of magazines--hence these
cries. I read them with wonder and interest. There seems to be such an
extraordinary quantity of clever, talented, ignorant, unliterary
literature let loose