idea. In the writing line, I was never so involved before and see no end to the ink-(an humorous voluntary provocative, I trust of much merriment)-creasing pressure of it all. Even the hope of waking to find myself famous is denied me, since I havent time in which to fall asleep. Therefore, very drowsily and yawningly indeed, I am your
JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY.
Neither did the President of the United States consider himself above a possible declination of his material if it seemed advisable to the editor. In 1916 Woodrow Wilson wrote to Bok:
Sometime ago you kindly intimated to me that you would like to publish an article from me. At first, it seemed impossible for me to undertake anything of the kind, but I have found a little interval in which I have written something on Mexico which I hope you will think worthy of publication. If not, will you return it to me?
The President, too, acted as an intermediary in turning authors in Boks direction, when the way opened. In a letter written not on the official White House letterhead, but on his personal up-stairs stationery, as it is called, he asks:
Will you do me the favor of reading the enclosed to see if it is worthy of your acceptance for the Journal, or whether you think it indicates that the writer, with a few directions and suggestions, might be useful to you?
It was written by . She is a woman of great refinement, of a very unusually broad social experience, and of many exceptional gifts, who thoroughly knows what she is writing about, whether she has yet discovered the best way to set it forth or not. She is one of the most gifted and resourceful