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Page 13 text:
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THE AEGIS THE YOUNGEST AUTHOR EMILY CARLQUIST. Cleopatra Aurelia sank her pointed little chin into a basket made of two brown palms and pondered o'er the Wonderful Idea, Cand don 't you even dare think those last two words without capitalizing themj. Oh ! Her tense little body quivered delightedly, Won,t it be gr-r-r-rand! What? you ask, What is the question at stake, what will be gr-r-r-rand? Perhaps-hm-maybe -ah! Now I have it! She is contemplating discarding the terrible atrocity she has instead of a name and acquiring a real live one like Betty or Peggy or- Oh! Mercy no, you 're quite mistaken. Cleopatra Aurelia became resigned to her dramatic name fifteen whole minutes ago when-oh! no, I take that back it was fourteen minutes since the Wonderful Idea popped into her flaxen bepig- tailed head. Fourteen minutes! Is that all? Why it seemed to Cleo QI wish she would change' her namej patra, etc., that she had possessed it for years and y- well years anyway. She sat before her dressing table in her miniature bedroom in her favorite Cforbiddenj musing position, namely, heels on the topmost rung of her best ma- hogany chair, elbows on knees, chin in palms and gazed unseeingly at her eager little reflection in the shining mirror. Of course if you must have one tell you what the W. I. is, you must but really-excuse me, dear Reader, but you know you are awfully stupid not to guess. Well-here goes, it is that Cleo, etc., is to be an-QOh! I just can 't say itj an-author! There it 's out and I 'm glad of it. Isn't that the grandest ever? Do you' wonder that the precious topmost rung was being nail-dented most f rightfully ? Cleo, etc., unclasped her brown fingers and picked up the huge penholder which was to receive the honor of recording the maiden efforts of the seething young brain. The steel point was jabbed furiously into the well of ink and she was ready to start when-her imagination swerved around a corner and she beheld herself-famous. This little story Q for she admitted to herself she wouldn't attempt anything very huge right at firstj she was to write would startle the publishers so that they wouldn't be able to reply for a day or so she calculated and that meant she wouldn't get her check until Tuesday. That day was Wednesday. She would send it off the next, it would be two days on the way, the publishers could recuperate over Sunday and then Monday morning send her answer. That wouldn't be so bad. Of course she wouldn't say a word to anybody about it- not a soul should know of her wonderful ability until the story appeared in next week's Post with her name attached. Then wouldn't folks almost die? The excitement wa.s almost too much for a twelve Cgoin' on 135 year old girl to stand alone. If only Mumsey were home! But no such luck. Every time Cleo, etc., felt any special need or desire for her mother, some relative had to get married or die or something and couldn't do either without mother's assist- ance. This way, though, she could surprise Mumsey, too, sovshe took back all her uncharitable thoughts and was quite sorry that the relative died for did it get marriedilj. But that was immaterial, she was glad her mother was away whatever happened to it. 9
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Page 14 text:
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THE AEGIS To be sure the publishers would Want her picture to send to people who wrote and admired the story. For did she not send stamps for Mrs. J ohnston's picture every time she bought a new Little Colonel book? She must have some new ones taken. Her old ones didn 't flatter her so very much and every- body said after looking at them, that she resembled her Daddy which Cleo, etc., resented for she wanted to look like Mumsey Cwho was prettyb. But perhaps the old ones would do at a pinch, for her father and mother would have to be told the reason for the sudden desire to be photographed and anyway there wouldnft be time as she decided to send the picture right along with the story to show the publishers she was a regular business woman. Wouldn't they die when they saw her picture? For who could ever believe that a kid with a braid just to the middle of her shoulder-blade Cyou see she had her hair Dutch-cut till just a year beforel could compose anything like that story? She giggled ecstatically and dented the rung deeper. She felt so sorry for her girl friends who were content to remain in obscurity playing jacks and jump- ing rope, poor things! Maybe one of the publishers would be real young and about twenty years hence when she had tired of the limelight and had so much money she simply couldn't count it all, he would ask her to marry him Cas they did in booksj and maybe she'd consent if he asked her about five times a day for a long, long time. But she had lots of time to think of that! She 'd write her story and send that off first. Clo' 'Relial me an' Jim voted fer pancakes fer supper to-night 'n if you don 't hurry up 'n come down you Won't get none 'cause Esther's only gonna-- Cleo, etc., shut out the voice of her young brother by applying a finger to the ear nearest him and picked up the mammoth pen once more. Now the most exciting moment of her whole long life was at hand. She was going to begin her-story! 1 if i i i ll H if 4 If i F The pen remained poised above the expectant paper, the ink on it congealed, slowly the rigid little form lost its tenseness and the brown eyes opened wide with pained surprise. t'Why! gasped Cleopatra Aurelia, I ain't got nothin '--to-say! She caught sight of her amazed little countenance in the glass a11d ac- costed it. What do you know about that? lt was terrible to part with her Wonderful Idea, and 'way off in the dis- tance she spied the remnants of the Youngest Author. Now,' ' she whispered to Cleopatra II., We gotta be a-a-old 1naid.' ' The idea was horrible. Two sympathetic tears appeared and trembled on her lashes. She bent forward to inspect them and suddenly discovered they looked pretty there, and she never had noticed before how long her lashes were. She screwed her eyes up tightly in an effort to produce more tears but they were not forthcoming. Perhaps if she repeated the charm-'fWe gotta be a- the charm remained suspended in midair, an appetizing odor of hot maple syrup and pancakes was wafted to the tilted little nose. Like a flash the Youngest Author faded into thin air, like a thunderbolt the mahogany chair crashed to the floor. Esther! Kids!! Don 't you eat all them pancakes!!! Gee VVhiz!!! Ah, mel 10
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