Reached Fame At A Bound

The man who had sprang into sudden prominence in the literary world had grown a trifle reminiscent under the influence of a good cigar and a smal] bottle, and one of the members of the party decided that there could be no better tinie to get the story of his remarkable success. "I donot recall that any one ever becaone more suddenly famous in the literary world than you," suggested the curions oue. ' ' I imagine that I came very close to breaking a record, ' ' replied the literary light. "One day you were unknown, and the next day every literary critio in the country was siuging your praise and people veere standing in line to buy your books, ' ' continued the curious one. "Quite true," admitted the literary light. "My reputation was made by a single story, and that story might be called an accident." "That's what I want to get at, " explained the curious one. "I want to hear the story of that story. Where did you get the idea aud what impelled you to write it? What was your inspiration?' ' The literary light laughed and reached for his glass. "The secret of that story is soon told, ' ' he said as soon as the glass was empty. "You see, I had a typewriter. " "Youngand pretty?" they all broke in. "Machine, not operator," explaiued the literary light. " Machine was all I could afford at that time, and I had to get that on the installnient plan. I ran it myself. you know. " "Wel Goon." ' ' Oue day I thonghtlessly went out without putting the cover on it, anc ïny 5-year-old boy got at it. " "Couldn't run it, could he?" they asked. " Of course not, but I'd let him help me put the paper in and take it out until he had mastered that much of the operation of the machine, and as the click of it pleased him and 'there was no one there to stop him he haminerec away at it f or about two hours. ' ' ' ' But what has that to do with your story?' ' "That was the story," answered the literary light. "When I saw what he had done, I gatherred the pages together, uumbered thein, got up a title and sent the whole thing to a leading magazine with a note saying that it was a dialect story of a Scotch-Welsh settlement that got mixed up with the Dutch in South África, and - well, I haven 't had to do a thing since then except buy typewriters for the boy. He's a little bit rough at times, but so long as he doesn't smash over one