But for me-- I could write, of course; but I was not sure but that I preferred the stage.

At the same time there was within me a deep stirring as of a call to go out and enlighten the world, especially that portion of it in darkest Africa or deadliest India.

I would be a missionary.
Before I was eighteen, however, I had abandoned all this.

Father put his foot down hard on the missionary project, and Mother put hers down on the stage idea.

I didn't mind so much, though, as I remember, for on further study and consideration, I found that flowers and applause were not all of an actor's life, and that Africa and India were not entirely desirable as a place of residence for a young woman alone.
Besides, I had decided by then that I could enlighten the world just as effectually (and much more comfortably) by writing stories at home and getting them printed.
So I wrote stories--but I did not get any of them printed, in spite of my earnest efforts.