He read my poem much more quickly than I could myself, and said it was very nice, and asked me some questions, and made notes on a slip of paper which he pinned to my manuscript.

He said he would have my piece printed very soon, and would send me a copy of the issue in which it appeared.

As I was going, I could not help giving the editor my hand, although I had not experienced any handshaking in Newspaper Row.

I felt that as author and editor we were on a very pleasant footing, and I gave him my hand in token of comradeship.
I had regained my full stature and something over, during this cordial interview, and when I stepped out into the street and saw the crowd intently studying the bulletin board I swelled out of all proportion.
For I told myself that I, Mary Antin, was one of the inspired brotherhood who made newspapers so interesting.

I did not know whether my poem would be put upon the bulletin board; but at any rate, it would be in the paper, with my name at the bottom, like my story about "Snow" in Miss Dillingham's school journal.