290 



THE GARDEN MAGAZINE 



June, 1913 



THE- TALK- OF - THE - OFFICE 



LETTERS 



We have said it so often that there is no 

 real excuse for saying it again, but we will: 

 We like to get letters from our readers; not 

 letters just saying, "Enclosed please find 

 blank dollars for, etc.," these are, of course, 

 our life's blood, but we enjoy the letters which 

 keep us thinking about what our readers want 

 from us or do not want. Take, for example, 

 this one which comes from a ranch in Colorado : 



" — I had been looking for the Garden Magazine every 

 day since the 5th, but it did not reach me till last night. 

 Just time to get supper, but I hastily changed my plans 

 to something that could be more quickly prepared and 

 sat down to read 'The Garden Doctor.' 



"You who live where you can see people and flowers 

 and trees have no idea what such an article means to a 

 lover of such things stranded as I am, away out here 

 on the bare prairie, not even in sight of another house, 

 and from two to five miles to the nearest neighbors. 

 Those woodsy things like 'The Garden Doctor' are 

 next best to being there myself. 



"I also liked the 'Little Farm' series, and find 

 many helpful ideas in the whole magazine." 



We are sorry about the magazine being late. 

 The Post Office Department carries the Colo- 

 rado mail by freight and we can't help the 

 delay, but it is worth much to us that this 

 lady likes The Garden Magazine, and we are 

 sending her with our compliments a copy of 

 "Adventures in Friendship," which is the 

 kind of out-of-door philosophy which will 

 warm her heart on that Colorado prairie. 



Another reader in near-by Massachusetts 

 has this to say: 



"The serial stories are fine. Do keep on with that 

 idea. We are intensely interested in 'The Garden 

 Doctor.' I have just read ' The Harvester ' and these 

 stories make me wild to have a larger garden. But 

 you aren't going to crowd out 'Readers' Service?' 

 Wish that would occupy more space." 



And still another subscriber, who is as kind 

 as the others, writes to us, but while she 

 likes "The Garden Doctor," has this decided 

 objection: 



". . . the illustrations are unusually good, too, 

 except the bracelet. A neurasthenic of several years' 

 standing, indifferent to all things, compelled against 

 her will to sit up a half hour daily, would hardly be 

 tricked out in a bracelet. It is curious to note how 

 persistent that bracelet is, especially in advertisements. 

 The cook-lady, the wash-lady, the scrub-lady, whether 

 ironing, or varnishing floors, or washing the baby, in 

 bed or out, dressed or undressed — they are all addicted 



''To business that we love we rise betime 



And go to 't with delight." — Antony and Cleopatra, 



to the use of the bracelet, and appear to wear it day and 

 night, whereas, of actual, live working women, not one 

 in a thousand ever dreams of wearing one at such 

 labors, or at such times. The ways of illustrators are 

 often past finding out." 



We don't feel like giving up too easily about 

 that bracelet question; the writer of these 

 paragraphs knows a young lady afflicted with 

 that most profitable of all operative diseases, 

 appendicitis, who refused to go on the table 

 until her best bracelet had been placed upon 

 her wrist. This done, she looked the surgeon 

 in the eye and told him to fall to; and during 

 a recent trip in the Sudan he has seen many 

 dark and handsome ladies entirely and com- 

 pletely satisfied when equipped solely with a 

 bracelet and a nose ring. Beside all this, the 

 neurasthenic patient in "The Garden Doctor" 

 was a woman in a thousand. 



We are sending to this writer, in defence of 

 our position, a copy of Miss Glasgow's ex- 

 tremely well written and keen exposition of a 

 woman soul in a novel entitled "Virginia." 

 If, as we hope, she reads this book with 

 attention, she will find out many things about 

 women which many women don't know or 

 realize. We should like to send her, also, a 

 copy of Kipling's verses,. "The Female of. the 

 Species is More Deadly than the Male," but 

 we fear she might misunderstand our offering 

 it and think it an attack on suffrage instead 

 of a calm and entirely complimentary tribute 

 to the worth and character of women, with a 

 few wholesome truths thrown in on the side. 



However we may fail in appearing to 

 appreciate your communications, we want 

 to say again: We like letters which give an 

 insight into our business, -and when the spirit 

 moves you, sit down and write to us and 

 address it to "The Talk of the Office," care 

 of this magazine. It will cheer and invigorate 

 us and may do some good. We are hot reach- 

 ing out for flattery; we like it just as every- 

 body does, but we know it's bad for us — just 

 truth, with a kind word now and then to keep 

 us working for more. 



A LITTLE BOOK ABOUT OURSELVES 



We are going to send to the writers of these 

 letters mentioned above a copy of a little 

 book we are just printing about our home 

 here in Garden City. It may be very bad 



form to do this, and worse form still to print 

 this fragment of a business autobiography at 

 all, but we have persuaded ourselves to think 

 that when such friendly letters come from 

 homes which we have the great privilege of 

 entering, they might like to see in picture and 

 in description the home from which these 

 books and magazines go. 



WHERE DO ALL THE BOOKS GO ? 



One of the nicest things which ever hap- 

 pened to us was a letter from a lady who had 

 written a book, and she decided to send it to 

 us, she said, because she heard that in our 

 shop no worker was more than forty feet from 

 a window. That manuscript was "The 

 Wind Before the Dawn," and when published 

 gave joy and hope to a hundred thousand 

 readers, and it will give joy to many hundred 

 thousands more before it goes to the place 

 where all good books must finally go. It is 

 this touch which comes to us that makes for 

 inspiration. Some 12,000 books and 20,000 

 or more magazines go from our doors on 

 practically every working day except Saturday, 

 when we take it easy. Where do they go, 

 and how in the world .do we manage to sell 

 'em to an overfed public? Every one must 

 enter a home somewhere and be read, too, 

 as we can't compel people to buy. So, too, 

 they must give pleasure or help in the majority 

 of cases, but we have wished a thousand times 

 to know what becomes of these millions of 

 books and magazines which spread like a snow- 

 storm over America and Europe and Canada 

 and Australia and wherever English is read. 



TO FRIENDS NEAR AND FAR 



To all of these good friends of ours who keep 

 our wheels going and who take through our 

 endeavors the writings of our other good 

 friends, the authors, we offer our thanks, 

 and if they would not regard us as too ego- 

 tistical, we should like to send them our new 

 little book about our home here in Garden 

 City — the Country Life Press — which at 

 this time of year is a fine place to work, 

 surrounded by gardens with thousands of 

 irises, peonies, roses, and other business frivoli- 

 ties. They may not properly be considered 

 a part of a publishing business, but as in the 

 case of the friendly letters, we like them. 



