"That's more in your line than mine. I'd rather spend an afternoon at cricket than compose an essay."
"Oh, I'm not doing any real solid writing. I leave that to Phillis Garnett and Laura Kirby. They're hard at work making a magazine number that's to rival the Nineteenth Century or the Hibbert Journal. My contributions are of a very light character. I sent one in the other day, and—isn't it sad?—it was rejected 'with the editor's compliments'. I tackled Phillis about it, and she said the mag. was meant to be serious, not comic. I thought my poem might have livened things up a little, but she'd have none of it."
"Have you got it here?"
"Yes; like the orthodox unsuccessful minor poet, I have it in my pocket."
"Oh, do let me see it!"
"It has the advantage of shortness, and if brevity is the soul of wit, that ought to be a point in its favour," said Mildred, producing her maiden effort. "I call it a 'compressed novelette'. Perhaps I'd better read it aloud to do it full justice. My writing isn't very clear.
"All ringed and bangled,
At me you angled;
With ways newfangled
The bait you dangled.
Yet ere bells jangled
We two had wrangled,
Our love was tangled,
My heart was mangled!"
"Not half-bad!" laughed Kitty. "I'm afraid it's hardly the style, though, to impress Phillis or Laura. If you could have written it in Greek it might have suited them. What did the others say to it?"
"Haven't had time to show it to them yet."
"Some of them will like it. They're not all as deep as Phillis and Laura. Why don't you get up a little fun among the more frivolous end?"