job-hunting. True, we realized the seven hundred would not last indefinitely. But to accept a job and not be in New York when rehearsals for the play were called, was an idea not to be entertained. So, to feel right about the interim of inactivity, David wrote yards of poetry and several short stories. And John A. Sleicher of Leslie's Weekly paid the princely sum of six dollars for a poem called "The Wild Duck."
A bunch of stuff was sent off to McClure's, which Mr. McClure said appealed to him very much—though not enough for publication. He'd like to see more of Mr. Griffith's work.
And the Cosmopolitan, then under Perriton Maxwell's editorship, bought "From Morning Until Night" for seventy-five dollars. Things were looking up.
In Norfolk, Va., a Centennial was to be held in celebration of the landing on Southern soil of the first of the F. F. V.'s, and a play commemorating the event had been written around Captain John Smith and Pocahontas. Mr. Griffith accepted a part in it. The six weeks' engagement would help out until the rehearsals of his own play were called. But Pocahontas's financial aid must have been somewhat stingy according to the letter my husband wrote me in New York. We had felt we couldn't afford my railroad fare to Norfolk and my maintenance there. It was our first separation.
And this the letter:
Dear Linda,
I am sending you a little $3 for carfare. I would send more but I couldn't get anything advanced, so I only send you this much.
