“But what do you write for the paper?”
“When I do write,” he said with a little hesitancy, “it is usually the local paragraphs.”
“Did you write the account of the last entertainment at the Cleverly High School?”
“Yes,” he replied, with an inquiring look in his eyes.
“Oh!” she exclaimed impulsively, “I think that that was just splendid. It was one of the nicest things I ever read.”
Herbert flushed with conscious pride at this unexpected praise. He tried to turn it off by saying that it was only an ordinary piece of work; but as he walked away he had a difficult time in smothering the feeling of pride that rose in his breast in spite of himself. He could scarcely eat his supper that night so strong was the feeling of elation within him, and even as late as bedtime the recollection of the praise given him so sweetly filled him with as much delight as if he had suddenly fallen heir to a great fortune.
CHAPTER IX
HAVING BECOME A NEWSPAPER WRITER, HERBERT LOOKS FOR NEW WORLDS TO CONQUER
In the early part of the winter Mr. Brooks was taken ill with what the doctor diagnosed as grippe. He thought at first that he would be about in a few days; but the days lengthened into weeks, and even then the physician would not permit him to leave the house. In the beginning of his illness the editor did a great deal of his work at home, sending the copy to the office in time for the regular edition of the Banner. But as time wore on the medical man frowned upon this, declaring that it was retarding his recovery.
One day the editor sent for Herbert, and after some questions regarding himself and the office, said:
“Herbert, I’m going to place a new responsibility on you. The doctor has forbidden my doing any more writing. I want you to take my place. I want you to write the editorials and as many of the local items as possible. In short, I want you to manage the Banner until I am able to be about again. Will you do it?”