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Show Youthful Enthusiasm By STANLEY CORD ELL (Associated Newspapers WNU Service.) BRENDA FOSTER is young and enthusiastic. Her interests inter-ests are varied and admiration admira-tion for successful artists, composers, baseball players, tennis players, actors and actresses and writers and others too numerous to mention, is fervent. Brenda's favorite writer is Elliott Rice. Brcnda especially likes 'the endings of his stories. He has a way of summing things up with satisfying sat-isfying completeness in a few brief concluding sentences. In a word Elliott El-liott Rice is a "trick" ending writer, writ-er, and 90 per cent of his popularity is undoubtedly due to this characteristic. charac-teristic. Perhaps Brenda's passion for trick ending writers is due largely to her own fondness for clever solutions. Indeed, she had always thought that if she ever had the opportunity to talk with Elliott Rice she could provide pro-vide him with a wealth of material of her own origin. Of course her Immediate family and many of her more intimate friends have ridiculed the idea, as they are apt to ridicule most of Brenda's plans. They think her too enthusiastic and self confident. confi-dent. However, last summer the miracle mira-cle happened. She was presented to Elliott Rice at a party at the Mountain View Country club. Brenda, In company with her mother and father and two brothers, were on a motor trip through the mountains and had stopped off at the club for the night. Elliott Rice had arrived the week before for a fortnight of golf. It was before the season was well under way, and comparatively few guests were at the club. But among the few was seemed to have reconsidered and forgiven Brenda her boresome conversation. con-versation. Unfortunately, however, Brenda's enthusiasm was not the kind that is easily suppressed. She is too vivacious vi-vacious and wholeheartedly sincere. Twice more during the evening that followed, she managed to get within speaking distance of Mr. Rice, and each time gave voice to one of the ideas she was "sure he could use in one of his stories." And on both occasions Mr. Rice arose, as though fearing Brenda would begin again, and excused himself, returning return-ing several moments later. At length, Mrs. Foster, chancing detection, drew Brenda aside as casually cas-ually as possible and ordered her to her room. "You've insulted the man three times," she said. "I declare, de-clare, your father and I are embarrassed em-barrassed to death." "But, mother " "Go to your room at once," Mrs. Foster hissed in a fierce undertone. And Brenda went. On the following day the Fosters departed. They left early, thankful to be off before other guests were astir so that Brenda could not fm ther insult Elliott Rice with her silly ideas. Poor Brenda. She was still young, and disillusionment was a bitter pill to swallow. Being a temperamental temperamen-tal soul, she spent the remainder of the journey brooding and condemning condemn-ing herself for being such a trial to her parents, though as yet she could not understand the cause of their irritation. Two months later the Fosters were home and the incident at Mountain View practically forgot- ten. Brenda was once more her enthusiastic self, though her family were now more than ever conscientious conscien-tious about suppressing the child's silly notions. Even after the letter arrived and and was read, they were still for many minutes, due, of course, to habit, a good deal septical. The letter was from Elliott Rice, and accompanying it was a check of three figures, made out to Brenda Foster. The letter read as follows: "My dear Miss Foster: I was so disappointed last June to learn that you had left Mountain View. You seemed to have such a fund of ideas for good stories. I had hoped to see more of you. When a writer gets as old as I, you know, he is apt to find himself in dire straits ofttimes for fresh material. Frequently, Fre-quently, when meeting people such as you, who have ideas, I find myself my-self embarrassed. Most folks, you know, are inclined to think of, a writer as somewhat dramatic. I therefore always leave the company to jot down my notes in private, rather than make a show of it when others are about, and in so doing frequently obviate embarrassment. I was afraid that the ideas you had given me might escape my memory if left to simmer. "I feel that the enclosed check is rightfully yours. Thank you for your efforts in my behalf. Please try and call on me sometime when you are traveling in this vicinity. Gratefully yours, Elliott Rice." "You know, Mr. Rice, I have several sev-eral ideas for stories I'm sure you could use." one, Anson Reynolds, an old business busi-ness associate of Brenda's father, who had struck up an acquaintance with Elliott Rice. Mr. Reynolds insisted in-sisted on giving a dinner party for his old friends the Fosters, to which he invited the famous author. The Fosters were quite thrilled, though they were aware of Brenda's devotion for Mr. Rice and the anticipation an-ticipation of how she might react to personal contact with him, was, especially es-pecially to Mrs. Foster, faintly disturbing. dis-turbing. "Remember," she admonished, "don't ask him a lot of silly questions ques-tions and don't try to give him ideas for stories. Whatever notions you might have would never do as story material." Brenda nodded and smiled knowingly. know-ingly. She had her own ideas on the subject, and she didn't intend being deterred from carrying them out. Elliott Rice proved to be an oldish old-ish man, rather thin and tired looking. look-ing. He wasn't the least bit romantic ro-mantic looking and there was a perpetually bored expression in his eyes. Brenda contrived to sit next to him at the table, and seemed not at all distressed because of his age or his lack of beauty. Her eyes watched him adoringly; she hung on every word he uttered, seemed timid about expressing an opinion of her own. In fact, by the time the last course had been served Mrs. Foster's fears that her daughter daugh-ter might embarrass the entire family fam-ily were practically dispelled. They were idling over their coffee cof-fee when the thing happened. Brenda Bren-da turned abruptly to Elliott Rice and said: "You know, Mr. Rice, I have several ideas for stories I'm sure you could use." A faintly annoyed look came into Elliott Rice's eyes and he seemed to sigh. Across the table, Mrs. Foster Fos-ter tried desperately to get Brenda's attention. Mr. Foster and the boys shifted uncomfortably in their seats. But Brenda was oblivious to the lack of response on the part of those present, and went ahead with the telling of her idea. She finished and Elliott Rice .stood up, excused himself hurriedly and left with a suddenness that brought the color to Mrs. Foster's cheeks. Had it not been for the presence of Anson Reynolds, Rey-nolds, Brenda would then and there have been told a thing or two. The party adjourned to the club lobby a few moments later and en route, behind Mr. Reynolds' back, Mrs: Foster glared darkly at her daughter, a glare that was far more impressive than speech. Brenda felt guilty and might have considered escaping to her room, had it not been 'jr the fact that at the moment mo-ment Elliott Rice joined them. He |
