The girl with literary ambitions belongs to one of two classes. Hither she thinks she could earn her living at home, by writing for magazines, or she wants to become a "journalist."
The profession of letters is broad and liberal. It presupposes a college education—yet I have known girls to graduate from the eighth grade into the short-stery field, because they found inspiration and help in the English masterpieces which they read after working hours. It presupposes leisure, elegant surroundings, and a restful environment, and yet one of the daintiest fairy-tales I ever read was penned by a woman between the time that she sent five growing girls off to school, and the washing of the breakfast dishes. I know of no work in which patient, persistent, unfailing effort and study bring such rich rewards, because the joy of giving birth to a new thought is equaled only by the joy of the mother in her first born. The writer extracts something more than mere dollars from
