Miss Van Dyke's Best Story
was very much touched—especially by her last words. I shall never forget them. As she kissed me good-by, she held me in her arms an instant, and said: 'Farewell, little one. May angels ever guide your pen!'
"I think of it so often," added Miss Van Dyke, looking up into the young man's face with childlike eyes dimmed by the recollection. "And when I have a story that is at all unpleasant to handle, I keep that advice in mind. It has prevented me from making a great many mistakes, I'm sure. One could n't write improper or slangy things with those sweet words in mind."
The picture appealed to the office taste. It was pleasant to think of little Miss Van Dyke (they always punctiliously gave her the title) "turning out her copy in the shadow of an angel's wing," as the sporting editor remarked. That youth was so deeply affected by the charm of the incident that he once referred to it with almost lachrymose feeling, after a very late supper, and actually came to blows with some one who laughed at him. He got a black eye for his pains. Miss Van Dyke saw the bruise the next
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