It seems that the amount of interest the articles evoke is going to decide what I am to be paid for them, but they certainly couldn't take the recipe and the comments and the sketch for less than twenty-five or thirty dollars, unless recipes are like poetry.

Peter said the other day that if a poet did not have some other profession to support him, he would starve to death on all he was paid for writing the most beautiful things that ever are written in all this world.

Peter says even an effort to write a poem is a beautiful thing." "Well, maybe that used to be the truth," said Katy as she started toward the door, "but I have been reading some things labeled 'poetry' in the magazines of late, and if the holy father knows what they mean, he's even bigger than ever I took him to be." "Katy," said Linda, "we are dreadful back numbers.

We are letting this world progress and roll right on past us without a struggle.

We haven't either one been to a psychoanalyst to find out the color of our auras." "Now God forbid," said Katy.