Chapter II (3)

The lake was paler now. White clouds plumed on the horizon, and an evening glow, green and faintly flushing, was reflected delicately from the west. The dunes were browner and darker. The visitor sat thinking, evidently, of her long, free wandering days. Elsie, putting on her shoes, sat thinking of her wayfaring companion’s mean and hateful life in the very midst of what is called civilization and respectability; of her struggle for existence--a struggle in which she had been all but killed by the greedinesses around her; a struggle just as sharp as any of the nail-and-claw-depredations commonly attributed exclusively to wilder-nesses. They watched the sky change, in an unspoken friendliness.

'And now, you are much better?' said Elsie quietly.

'Yes. Now I’m well, thank God! And the Bronson boy as sound as a bell. That was the most lucky illness you can imagine for me. I couldn’t go back after that to the way I lived before. I always would live different--more outdoors, and just looking after myself better. Since that time, I’ve been lots more use to myself and everybody else. After we got to California, I sewed here and there for the people where we boarded first, and they liked my sewing so much, and I made so much money, that when Kip got a job to Gary, engineering for the electric plant, and I come too, to keep house for him, I put up a sign and gradually I’d worked up a good trade, before he was married. Why I’m going to be able to send Babe to Vassar, and plenty for me to take a trip west, too, next summer. Kip married such a nice girl.' She rose. 'I’ve talked you to death. But when you spoke about your cousin, it brought everything right out of my lips some way. I hope he’s not so very sick.'

'No. He will be well again. He has a splendid constitution.'

Miss Brackett shook hands with her. 'I wish you would come in for a minute and see me, if you ever have time some day when you’re in Gary.'

'I will.'

'Good-night.'

'Good-night.'

As her visitor disappeared over the rounded ridge of the dune, Elsie heard the home-coming voices of the campers. They had brought peanut-taffy to her, and they praised her none the less highly for her intended sacrifice to the Moloch of Mrs. Horick and the dullness of the world that she had not needed to make this sacrifice.

For some reason, she could not have explained to them about her chance guest. But she was still thinking of her, as she walked from the shore a little later to gather firewood for supper. The sun dropped long-ribbed level beams over the russet oak-brush and buff shadows of the dunes. Crimson rifts broke in the amber ether of the west. Rich, rich, soft, and deep, the fragrance of some far autumnal bonfire breathed in the cool air.

'Where are the songs of spring? oh, where are they? Mourn not for them, thou hast thy music, too,' rang silently in the girl’s fancy as she stood looking around her. And she wondered that she never till that day had realized how deeply wild creation is the birthright of every creature, not only for the power of tooth and fang, the strength of the marauder, but for the vitality of speed and sensitiveness, ground-squirrel, deer, and cricket; and how Nature’s most profound magnificence might sing, perhaps, not in her thrilling melody to April pulses, but in her proud cadence to November hearts.

BIOGRAPHICAL AND INTERPRETATIVE NOTES

THE LIE

MARY ANTIN, ever since _The Promised Land_ first appeared in the _Atlantic Monthly_, has come to mark the highest standard of literary excellence and political idealism possible for the best and most gifted of our foreigners to attain. Born in Russia, educated in Boston and New York, her influence has been widely exerted by her books and by her public addresses.

One of the chief points of interest in Mary Antin’s story lies in the conflict of ideas about truth. David had learned that in America a good patriotic citizen should learn to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. The demand for this strictness, he came to learn, was more particularly severe when assertions were recorded in writing on public documents. The little boy understood equally well that the training which his father had received in Russia made it seem right in certain cases to swear falsely and deceive the government. David therefore saw the tragical significance of his father’s false record on the American public school document. In David’s conception Mr. Rudinsky had done no wrong in telling the lie; yet that lie nevertheless stood out as a bold contrast to George Washington’s idea of truth. How could the little boy be loyal to both ideas, when the ideas were diametrically opposed to each other?

_Suggested Points for Study and Comment_

1. What are some of the differences suggested between life for the Jewish person in Russia and in America?

2. How does the author indicate her own feelings in regard to the problems that confront David and his father?

3. What does citizenship mean to Mr. Rudinsky? What are some of the more concrete forms by which he makes his ideas of freedom evident? Does his conception of Americanism coincide with that of the average American?

4. Has the literalness of David’s interpretation of "America" any real connection with the time of the story? Was it necessary to give so much general detail before the question of David’s age came up?

5. Why is Bennie introduced into the story? Do you find any other characters contributing to the humor or acting as foils?

6. How does the author reveal Miss Ralston’s competence to reconcile the two ideals of truth?

STUDENT’S COMMENT ON 'THE LIE'

To me the chief interest in _The Lie_ centres in the portrayal of character. Naturally I was most interested in David, and I found myself contrasting David’s habitually serious devotion to his studies with my own rather fitful habits of attack. The contrast was not comforting. Little Bennie I liked, too. Indeed, I think that for everyday living, I should find him the more agreeable companion of the two. He bubbles over so easily and charms us with his frankness and unconscious humor. Mr. Rudinsky’s ambition for David is splendid--so splendid that we can pretty readily excuse the lie he told about David’s age. I was not so much interested in Mrs. Rudinsky, but I nevertheless felt that if I were grading her on her proficiency in motherhood, I’d have to give her an A-,--or at least a B+. And Miss Ralston was wonderful. Wouldn’t it be splendid if every teacher could have such a sympathetic understanding of children’s hearts!

The second item that interested me was the patriotic note. In these war days everything even remotely connected with the patriotic ideal stirs us. I was proud that I could think of America as the land where my fathers had freely died in order that I might live in freedom. And I rather guiltily questioned whether I have been showing by my own service any real appreciation of the sacrifice which these fathers had made. And I felt a bit ashamed when I thought that David’s admiration for George Washington somehow seemed loftier and more deeply personal than my own had been.

Another characteristic struck me: Miss Antin portrayed her separate scenes with such graphic power. I am sure that I shall always remember the whimsical figure of David in the George Washington coat that was so much too big for the tiny figure. But I was almost afraid to laugh for fear of hurting David’s feelings, for David somehow seemed so very near. This touch of reality is equally strong in the passage which describes Mrs. Rudinsky and her hasty toilet, and her hands on which the scrubbing brush and paring knife had left their unmistakable marks.

I, of course, find that I was interested in the plot. Indeed, I read stories principally for the fun of seeing how the events shape themselves at the close. It doesn’t matter here that we are not told exactly what happened in that conversation between Miss Ralston and David. We know that the trouble was all smoothed out. Personally, I feel quite sure that David finally took part in that school entertainment.

BLUE REEFERS

ELIZABETH ASHE is the pen name of Georgiana Pentlarge, a young and promising story-writer, living in Boston.

A reefer properly belongs in the category useful. Even in its second or third season of usefulness, it retains certain warm and comforting qualities. How its sphere of endeavor may be extended to include a divine mission of poetic justice, Miss Ashe unfolds in a delightfully humorous experience of two little girls--one very pretty and habitually urbane, the other very homely and rather crude. With reefers smothering all glories of Persian lawn and fine silk slips, we have two little girls arrived at the height of ecstatic self-forgetfulness in the excitement of giving a recitation for the Christmas entertainment.

Complete satisfaction, too, is the reader’s. What a delightful chuckle he gives over Aunt Emma’s chagrin at discovering that, in the matter of little girls, golden hair and pink cheeks, or freckles and a 'jaw,' make very little difference! Yet his chuckle, after all, is only an echo from an adult world, a world suggested to Martha by the vague whisperings of Father and Mother after she has gone to bed. Far more real is the world Miss Ashe has created, where Miss Miriam’s black dress and gold cross present a charming but insoluble mystery; where one is forced, however regretfully, to reconcile cotton-batting with a Sunday-School Christmas tree, and where 'it is so nice to be in things.'

_Suggested Points for Study and Comment_

1. Comment on the author’s use of detail. Does it create a real atmosphere?

2. Is the author successful in her interpretation of the mind of the small girl? Is the author’s own personality ever intruded? How is she able to secure the larger view of the events that take place?

3. Is the climax made more or less effective by the children’s unconsciousness of their act? Would you have preferred a more startling dénouement?

4. Why is Luella sketched so lightly? Is the contrast only between the two little girls?

5. How does Miss Miriam contribute to the interest in the story?

6. Comment on the skillful ending of the story.

THE DEBT

KATHLEEN CARMAN (Mrs. L. N. Dodge), a writer of interesting short stories, lives in Evanston, Illinois. _The Debt_ is her first contribution to _The Atlantic_.

Certain of the old Flemish painters present a canvas which seems to suggest that a peaceful meadow-land, a winding river, or a distant mountain-slope, exists only as a background for the figure in which they are interested. The relative importance is indicated by the proportions that make the figure loom large and masterful within the scene. Miss Carman, too, has cleared her canvas for the presentation of her figure; but her heroine is very small, very insignificant, in the presence of greater realities of expansive sea, cloud-fancies, or the rising moon. The interest of the story centres in the relation between Nature--more exactly God in Nature--and patient, plodding Sister Anne.

Nothing else matters. The problem itself is clear to Sister Anne; only the solution is difficult. To one whose life has seen all the unloveliness of heavy manual labor, there exists a pressing necessity to pay for the joy of living that is in her: a strange, absorbing joy in the beauty that God has created. Praise and prayer are not her instruments. A loving attendance at chapel and early matins cannot translate her feelings. Love and worship must be transmuted into the thing she knows--service.

The time comes. Simply, consciously, unquestioning, she risks her life to return another’s to God--a small payment for what He has given her. The problem is between them. Her devout companions may admire, the wealthy landowner wonder; nothing can be given to this 'poor, lonely, ignorant, toil-worn being, who in her starved existence had found more joy than she could make return for.'

_Suggested Points for Study and Comment_

1. The reader will find it interesting to contrast the ways in which Sister Anne and The Princess, in Miss Donnell’s story of _The Princess of Make-Believe_, reconcile themselves to the drudgery of dish-washing and similar tasks of kitchen routine.

2. What various manifestations of nature especially impressed Sister Anne? What appeal did these make to her companions?

3. Do you regard the author’s prolonged analytical method of characterization--as employed in the first part of the story--as the most effective means of bringing the reader into an understanding of the deeper personality of Sister Anne?

4. What special detail in this analysis most strongly impresses you?

5. What other method might have been adopted?

6. Characterize fully the spirit and the motive which impel Sister Anne’s final deed of sacrifice. What impresses you as the finest element in her act?

7. Comment upon the author’s way of ending the story.

SETH MILES AND THE SACRED FIRE

CORNELIA A. P. COMER, accomplished critic, essayist, and writer of short stories, was educated at Vassar, and afterwards engaged in journalistic work in the Middle West and California. She now lives in Seattle.

There are really three stories in one: Cynthia’s and Dick’s we put together from suggestions; that of Seth Miles we know from his own detailed narrative; Richard’s remains for our forming. All the details are woven into a tale of one day. A day hot and sultry in itself is made to coincide with the grumblings and self-pitying of a pampered son; both day and character are cleared without the arrival of the threatened storm, and duty is made as splendid and beautiful as the sun emerging from a darkened sky. A dilettante, conceiving in his cultured self an appropriate offering from Mammon to the Muses, learns that even the heir of millions has work to do. The place and the teacher emphasize the greatness of the lesson. There is little doubt in the reader’s mind that Seth Miles’s sacrifice has been worth while. To him comes a double reward: the realization that Cynthia and Dick have lived lives worth his self-denial, and the satisfaction that to their son, through his own wise teachings, has come the ability to 'sense things.'

_Suggested Points for Study and Comment_

1. Comment upon the advantages secured by opening the story with direct quotations.

2. What light do these quotations throw upon the character of Richard’s father?

3. Note how quickly the transfer is made from the office of Mr. Bonniwell, Senior, to Seth Miles’s farm house. Such compression is necessary in a short story.

4. How do you explain Richard’s first attitude toward his teaching and toward all his surroundings at Garibaldi?

5. What was the first surprise Richard received concerning the character of Seth Miles?

6. What, according to Mr. Miles, was the marked change which the young teacher, 'Earnin' money to get through college,' effected?

7. Was Seth Miles’s sacrifice--the sacrifice he made when he gave up Cynthia--a natural one under the circumstances? Why? What helped to console him for his loss?

8. What was the second sacrifice, and in what spirit was it met?

9. Contrast Seth Miles’s spirit with the spirit of Sister Anne in Miss Carman’s The Debt.

BURIED TREASURE

MISS MAZO DE LA ROCHE has attained her most notable literary success in _Buried Treasure_. So apparent is this success, that a moving-picture company has recently asked the privilege of producing this story.

One suspects that Mrs. Mortimer Pegg never was a little girl; one is surprised to learn that Mr. Mortimer Pegg was, in a mysterious long ago, 'just so high'; that Mrs. Handsomebody issued from some unnamable monstrosity a fullfledged, much-starched governess, is beyond doubt. If not, how could they fail to enter with zest into the midnight treasure-hunt? What a wonderful scene it is: a burly old pirate in leather jerkin, breeches, and top-boots, not to mention a gleaming cutlass, surrounded by an Angel, a Seraph, and 'just John,' with as bloodthirsty appointments, all intent on the treasure-trove mysteriously located in Mrs. Handsomebody’s back yard. And then come the Grown-Ups! Poor Mr. Pegg must return to the disguise of an archæologist and the realms of respectable age.

_Suggested Points for Study and Comment_

1. Divide the story into scenes for a motion-picture production. What would be the most regrettable loss in such a representation?

2. What do the names of the characters contribute to the charm of the story? Are they any help to your interpretation of the characters?

3. Comment on the characterization of Mary Ellen. Is she a type? Are there any other characters that you recognize as types? Do the presence of these detract from the real interest of the story?

4. Discuss the author’s power of word-selection and striking comparisons. What does this power add to her style?

THE PRINCESS OF MAKE-BELIEVE

ANNIE HAMILTON DONNELL was born in Maine, where much of her life has been spent. She has, however, lived in the Middle West, and her present home is in Framingham, Massachusetts. She has been a frequent contributor to many of our best periodicals.

It is the charm of perfect understanding that lifts Annie Hamilton Donnell’s story, out of the many, into that enchanting region inhabited by such bewildering creatures as Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm and Anne of the famed Green Gables. To the author must be attributed that same responsive gift that makes the Prince really a Prince. For the Princess there is no evil to her who will not see it; so there is no harsh stepmother or horrid witch--only a Queen who 'never enjoys herself on wash-days.' The author’s delightful touches of humor make an easy and comfortable medium from Make-Believe to a no less interesting world of Little Willow Twins and fishing pools.

_Suggested Points for Study and Comment_

1. What is the most marked characteristic of the Princess?

2. What foils are introduced to bring this characteristic into bolder view?

3. In what particular items is the author’s sense of humor best displayed?

4. Where is the emotion of the Princess most intense?

5. Is this emotion suddenly or gradually destroyed?

6. What are the points of strongest contrast between the imagined Prince and the real little neighbor-boy?

7. Comment on the sudden ending of the story.

THE TWO APPLES

JAMES EDWARD DUNNING, journalist and publicist, is the author of many reviews, government reports, essays, and short stories. He has had a long and honorable connection with the Department of State at Washington.

What has happened before the sixteenth day, what ship it was, what its destination, who its crew, how they had been wrecked, we are not told; nor are we particularly concerned with the history of those preceding events. We are intent on one man living with half-mad intensity a whole life in a single day. It is not so much that he knows the pain of diminishing vitality, the scorchings of hunger and thirst, as it is the spiritual tortures he undergoes. Everything that treacherous Desire can mean, he feels. It is only an apple, but as he, in his hungered, famished state, gazes upon it, every sense is alive with an intense elemental desire. At the moment of severest trial, with the clearness of vision of those near death, he sees himself, knows his sin, feels the mercy of God. And as the day closes, he experiences the happiness of sacrifice. Beside him Zadoc sleeps, perhaps drifts off into the Unknown.

Suggested Points for Study and Comment

1. If the author had wished to make a much longer story of this, what episode or episodes could he have greatly elaborated? Can you surmise why he did not do this, but preferred rather to develop the situation he had selected?

2. What artistic effect is created by the description of the Cape Cod farm? Analyze the sensory imagery.

3. Why does Zadoc command that the last apple be placed 'under the tin cup in the middle of the raft'?

4. What had previously been Jeems’s attitude toward the sea? Has his attitude now changed? Why, or why not?

5. From the standpoint of mere sense-impression, what is the most significant moment in the story?

6. What is the point of highest spiritual interest?

THE PURPLE STAR

MRS. REBECCA HOOPER EASTMAN, a magazine writer of distinction, lives in Brooklyn, New York. Her father, the late Dr. Hooper, was for many years president of the Brooklyn Institute.

The judgment of his peers proved fatal to the glory of Charley Starr. Miss Prawl, the sixth-grade teacher, learned, too, with surprise, that if one is a dutiful child who neither disobeys nor deceives, he thereby lessens his opportunity to achieve the heroic. The literalness of Theodora and her zealots destroys any romantic impulse to make reckless synonymous with brave. One is reminded that the youthful escapades which brighten the biographies of certain national heroes--always making notable exception of the Father of Our Country--would not have met the rigorous demands of Theodora’s approval. The conclusion is obvious: it is difficult to become a hero and at the same time retain all the virtues--particularly the much-desired charity. And who would be judge? Let the order of the Purple Star be abolished!

_Suggested Points for Study and Comment_

1. What is the author’s purpose in writing this story?

2. What are the chief points of interest, besides this well-defined purpose?

3. Are you satisfied with the outcome of the story? Could you suggest any other way of meeting the problem?

4. Do you find the characters real? Is Theodora typical?

5. Why is it necessary to make character and setting somewhat subordinate?

6. Do you like the introduction? What is the basis of its charm?

7. Do you find the author critical of other things outside the immediate purpose of the story?

RUGGS--R. O. T. C.

WILLIAM A. GANOE, now stationed at West Point, is a captain in the Regular Army. When _Ruggs--R. O. T. C._ was printed in the _Atlantic_, it was immediately tried out in the class-room, where it won the instant favor of high-school pupils. It was the first story to be issued in the series of _Atlantic Readings_.

Amusing situations, with lively dialogue a-plenty, in this training-camp story of Mr. Ganoe, are the conveyances for a splendid lesson in pluck. Ruggs, the successful bank-manager, knew that only the best in the individual is worthy of recognition when it comes to government service. He meant to give that best. The trial came. Despite the confusion and the jeers, Ruggs came through; brains and thorough-going effort counted. To Ruggs it meant a first lieutenancy for his pluck, something to tell Alice, and a ride in a blanket for the glorious 'sell' he had practised on his jeering comrades. Underneath the fun and the hazing, there is, on all sides, sincere appreciation of merit.

_Suggested Points for Study and Comment_

1. What purpose does the opening dream serve, besides that of arousing immediate interest?

2. Besides his ability for quick decision, what is the outstanding feature of Ruggs’s character?

3. How is the character of the Meter drawn? Is there any advantage in not naming him?

4. Are you prepared for the Meter’s decision in regard to the Duke? Is the latter introduced into the story for any purpose other than to amuse?

5. What are the author’s chief means of keeping suspense?

6. What ends do Squirmy’s nightly exercises serve?

7. Would it have added to the interest of the study to have Alice more fully characterized? Why is she introduced?

THE WAY OF LIFE

LUCY HUFFAKER is a short-story writer of distinction, who has recently been devoting her principal interest to the drama. She is connected with the Washington Square players in New York City.

In the short space of a May evening, Emmeline Black, mother of eight children, a good wife for a farmer, careful and industrious, lives through her girlhood aspirations and the complete shattering of her dreams. Finally, there comes to her the greater tragedy of the realization that, in spite of what she can do, her daughter faces the same career of fantasy and disillusionment. For the first time in twenty-one years, Jake Black finds his wife different, almost a bit untractable. Yet he can find no solution for the problem. 'Em' has been a good wife, their marriage has been successful, his daughter’s possible engagement augurs well for the future; but 'Em' is worried about something. It is the daughter herself who sets their small world aright. Her gratitude for the dreams her mother has given her brings to Emmeline the realization of the value of inspiration where accomplishment proves impossible. The years of hard work before her, and the prospect of a similar life for her daughter, grow insignificant before the new consciousness that dreams do last.

_Suggested Points for Study and Comment_

1. Comment on the general atmosphere produced by the opening paragraphs.

2. What descriptive details contribute particularly to the realism of the scene?

3. How is this realism more fully brought out in the conversation between the wife and husband?

4. What feelings prompted the lie which Mrs. Black told? What can be said in extenuation of this lapse?

5. What contrasts were prominent in her mind?

6. What in Victoria’s character, makes the strongest appeal?

7. Do we feel that Victoria is more likely than her mother to keep the youthful dreams and visions?

8. What is Mrs. Black’s greatest consolation?

9. Comment on the author’s way of ending her story.

A YEAR IN A COAL MINE

JOSEPH HUSBAND has, since his graduation from Harvard in 1907, been engaged in industrial pursuits. He has, however, found time to contribute frequently to The _Atlantic Monthly_. At present Mr. Husband is an ensign in the United States Navy. The first account of his naval experience is published in the May (1918) _Atlantic_.

For vividness of sense-suggestion--color, sound, smell, feeling--Joseph Husband’s smooth-flowing narration of a year’s experience in a soft-coal mine is worthy of study. The blackness which is 'absence of light rather than darkness,' the submerging silence, the seeping gas-vapors, the nervous consciousness of lurking danger--all these give indisputable atmosphere. What grim tragedy, awful in its heavy brutality, might not here be grimly enacted! Instead, there is work--the grimy, sweating work of the underground; hard muscles, and senses not too alive to material forces. An occasional superstition gives life to the blackness--a strange white phantom that dazzles the sight and blinds the understanding with unreasoning fear. But most vivid of all is the blackness and the work.

_Suggested Points for Study and Comment_

1. How does the author’s preface add to the interest in his narrative? Are your expectations of his added power borne out?

2. Do you find Mr. Husband more able in his descriptions of large scenes, masses of buildings, groups of people,--or in the individualizing of the single person or thing?

3. Is the setting for the work, or the work itself, the chief purpose of the narrative? Which do you find the more interesting?

4. Can you explain the author’s feelings of mortification as he first enters upon his duties?

5. What are some of the elements that make for the vividness of the scenes?

6. Why is the occasional mention of color so effective?

7. Contrast the mental occupations during a period of temporary leisure in a coal mine with a similar rest hour in the upper world?

8. From reading this narrative, can you offer any reasons why the ancient peoples believed mines to be inhabited by a race of gnomes?

WOMAN’S SPHERE

S. H. KEMPER’S short stories reveal a genuinely sympathetic understanding of child-life. Mr. Kemper’s present home is in Scranton, Pennsylvania.

The plot itself is slight: the presentation of a ball--a _worsted ball_--as a birthday present to a boy of nine! The comic element immediately suggests itself; Wilbur discovers that it may come very near tragedy--not for him, but for Aunt Susan. To be so inconceivably old that one cannot understand what a ball of gay worsted would mean to a boy who had already practised imaginary curves with a magnificent white sphere bearing the proud blue label of the American League! All Wilbur’s chivalric nature is called out to keep his great aunt from knowing how great is her misunderstanding, and how keen his aching pity that age could be so terrible.

Is there, perhaps, a suggestion here of refined propaganda?--Education for women--higher, broader, what you will?

_Suggested Points for Study and Comment_

1. Contrast Aunt Susan with Wilbur’s grandmother.

2. Mention certain significant items that contribute to the realism of the various situations.

3. Comment on the way in which Wilbur’s fancy works, as he views the ball in anticipation.

4. What was there in Aunt Susan’s conversation that reveals her lack of understanding of boy nature?

5. Is there any element of surprise in the way Wilbur takes his disappointment? Comment fully upon his varied emotions.

6. What is the marked contrast between Aunt Susan and Wilbur’s father?

7. Which paragraph is most interesting from the point of view of setting? Why?

8. Comment on the aptness of the title.

BABANCHIK

CHRISTINA KRYSTO lived the first nine years of her life, from 1887 to 1896, in Russia. She then came with her father’s family to America, settling on a ranch. Her vocation is ranch-work; her avocation is writing. Miss Krysto’s _The Mother of Stasya_ is published in the June (1918) _Atlantic_.

An Armenian, a Revolutionist, a voluntary exile, desiring in his old age nothing so much as the privilege of serving Russia, whose government, institutions, and rulers he had fought all his seventy years--such is Babanchik. Russia had driven his twenty-year-old daughter into an exile of hard labor, had imprisoned his son for the best ten years of his life; and Babanchik died because his strength was too weak to carry him back to serve her. Shall you call it patriotism in a man who cursed his native land with a hymn of everlasting hate? racial instinct in one whose Armenian birth made him an object of official suspicion? Here there could be no overpowering conviction that his country’s civilization must be protected against the dreaded Kultur. Yet the desire comes--not only his own, but the command of his imprisoned son, that he serve Russia.

There are other beautiful things in Christina Krysto’s story, not the least of which are the suggestive bits of description of the life in the Georgian village. Yet Babanchik, of the caressing name, product of that strange country whose people grow more incomprehensible as the Great War progresses, interesting as he is, directing the summer play in the Caucasian Mountains, is a thousand times more wonderful when swayed by the unnamed power that returns him dead to Russia.

_Suggested Points for Study and Comment_

1. What are the characteristics in Babanchik that make him a favorite with the children?

2. Contrast the Babanchik who played with the children with the Babanchik who talked with the father.

3. What were Babanchik’s most serious interests?

4. What circumstances of his birth hampered his influence with the Russian government?

5. How was his ambition to become a member of the city Duma crushed?

6. In spite of government intervention, what were some of the beneficial influences which Babanchik found that he could exert?

7. What was there in the government of Russia that was particularly distasteful to a man of Babanchik’s nature?

8. What strong traits of Babanchik are brought out in that long furious fight for his children in the Russian prison?

9. What effect did the war have upon Babanchik’s view of Russia?

10. What hastened the old man’s desire to return?

11. Comment upon the author’s artistic close.

ROSITA

ELLEN MACKUBIN was, several years ago, a frequent contributor to the _Atlantic_. Nearly all her stories are tinged with the military spirit with which she was thoroughly familiar.

The cause of the deed is never revealed to the garrison; its consequences can only be surmised. Indeed the true standing of the affair as tragedy is only guessed. The instigator of the quarrel between Major Prior and Jerry Breton, the perpetrator, and the victim of the tragedy unite in the person of one christianized just enough to suffer for the savage instincts she had never learned to control. We see her just once, Rosita, the beautiful, the impulsive, the passionate; the next time she is dead. It is the feeling of repressed power that makes Ellen Mackubin’s story grip the attention. In a few short pages, three--possibly four--characters are made to live, and a tragedy wrecks two lives.

_Suggested Points for Study and Comment_

1. Discuss which of the common elements of story--setting, plot, character, theme, or style--is here most prominent.

2. Discuss the way in which the separate characters are introduced and the complication arranged.

3. How can Jerry’s treatment of the commanding officer on the day of the dress parade be condoned?

4. How does the reader feel regarding Rosita’s vague declaration that she will rid Jerry of Prior’s unfairness?

5. On the night of the shooting, what motive prompted Jerry to fling the pistol far over the edge of the bluff?

6. Describe the effects which the tragedy produced upon the garrison.

7. What were Jerry’s feelings during the days immediately succeeding the tragedy?

8. How does the reader decide the question as to who is the really guilty person?

PERJURED

EDITH RONALD MIRRIELEES is a member of the English Department of Leland Stanford Junior University.

It was a useless lie. Robbins knew that, as soon as he had spoken it. But it stopped the boys' teasing. Once spoken, events followed in too rapid succession for him to do more than qualify his statement; the bald accusation remained. Repetition had done more than confirm the story in Sutro; it had benumbed Robbins’s own sense of exactness. His reputation for truth constantly confronted him; sometimes it made it easier for him, but increasingly often he saw the difficulty of reconciling the lie with himself. On the other hand, time and self-torture strengthened the conviction that truth must prevail and that no innocent man could suffer by the law. And so it proved. Robbins, the boy who had tried to save himself from momentary discomfiture, who had deliberately placed a man in direct accusation for murder, found himself, not a self-righteous person who by a last act of grace redeems the innocent and places himself on a martyr’s pedestal; instead, he found himself a perjured youth, no better than the truck-gardener Emerson in whom truth itself lost credence.

That a malignant fate had placed the name of the guilty man in the boy’s mouth, comes with no shock; the author has so carefully prepared our minds for that very verdict, that we are merely surprised that we could have forgotten the bits of telling evidence. The interest begins and ends with a boy of sixteen who in weakness was forsworn.

_Suggested Points for Study and Comment_

1. Comment on the appropriateness of the direct opening. Is such a method more appropriate to one type of story than another?

2. Describe the steps by which the author prepares for, without explaining, his climax.

3. How does the author focus attention, not on the murderer and criminal, but on the individual problem of Robbins? Would you have preferred a more detailed explanation of the cause of the crime?

4. Why is Emerson introduced?

5. Is the enormity of the injury he is doing ever clear to Robbins?

6. What other stories are included, but left untold, in this one?

7. What, to you, is the most significant thing in the author’s handling of the narrative? Why would such a story not lend itself to scenic production?

WHAT MR. GREY SAID

MARGARET PRESCOTT MONTAGUE, living among the West Virginia mountains, has written many successful stories of the Hill people whom she knows so well.

To make of the little blind child of the coal-miner a compellingly human little soul, yet to touch him with a warmth and beauty of imagination so exquisite that it pains the heart; to do all this so deftly, so tenderly that one draws a quick breath of wonder--these are only bare suggestions of the power that created Margaret Prescott Montague’s _What Mr. Grey Said_.

_Suggested Points for Study and Comment_

1. Contrast the richness of sense-perceptions of Stanislaus with his poverty of all things else.

2. Analyze the elements that make up the charm of Stanislaus. Aside from the pathetic, what is the strongest interest?

3. How does Miss Julia help to prolong the suspense?

4. Would the story have been as powerful if it were entirely tragic?

5. Would the story have gained if Stanislaus were presented in direct contrast to the other blind children? Why would a longer story have been weaker?

6. Does the dialect contribute to the charm of the story? What is the real function of dialect?

7. Does the ending seem a makeshift to avoid a difficulty? How has the author succeeded in making the ending not only possible but probable?

A SOLDIER OF THE LEGION

E. MORLAE was an American who, in the early days of the Great War, enlisted in the French Army and became a Soldier of the Legion. Many of his war experiences are graphically told in his various articles in _The Atlantic Monthly_.

'We spent our time eating and sleeping, mildly distracted by an intermittent bombardment': these were the breathing spells; active work found analogy only in the regions below. Yet either adventure was told with equal calm. That is what impresses one in Sergeant Morlae’s narrative. It is so grimly calm, almost impersonal. There is no careless enthusiasm, excited hilarity, or mad vengeance--simply a job to be done. The enemy alive present a target; dead, a source of added comfort for one’s self, a souvenir for one’s brother, or, if need be, material for a parapet. One’s life before and after has nothing to do with the present. And this is even more terrible for what it leaves unsaid.

There is, however, no lack of vividness in _A Soldier of the Legion_. The matter-of-factness of the telling deceives us only for a time, until the intrusion of a crisp, 'Hell kissed us welcome'; or, more significant still, 'And we were counted: eight hundred and fifty-two in the entire regiment, out of three thousand two hundred who entered the attack on the 25th of September.'

_Suggested Points for Study and Comment_

1. Does the conversational tone of the narrative make it any the less vivid?

2. When is the author’s power of vivid portrayal most apparent?

3. What ideas do you get of the Legion’s views of the enemy? Contrast it with other war stories you have read. Could it be accounted for by the type of men who entered the Foreign Legion?

4. What in the author’s account suggests the general morale of the troops?

5. What does the grimness of the occasional bits of humor convey as to the mental state of the men? What do these occasional jokes gain by their very scarcity?

6. What new ideas of war come to you from Sergeant Morlae’s account?

THE BOULEVARD OF ROGUES

MEREDITH NICHOLSON has won most of his popularity as a novelist. He is, however, an accomplished essayist, a poet of distinction, and a keen critic of current literary and political matters. More recently, he has become interested in the writing of short stories. His home is in Indianapolis, where he was privileged to enjoy for many years an intimate friendship with James Whitcomb Riley, whose character Mr. Nicholson has sympathetically portrayed in his novel, _The Poet_, and in an illuminating essay in _The Atlantic Monthly_ for October, 1916.

Propaganda in such disguise needs no apology. Not only can we appreciate the cleverness of the trick as well as the earnestness of its author, but we relish what a very good thing a similar lesson would be for our own or for our neighboring cities.

At the same time, there is a worth-while character-study to be made of the Chairman of the Committee on Art, who presents a type almost as rare in fiction as it is in life.

_Suggested Points for Study and Comment_

1. The student will find it interesting to make a thorough study of Barton’s character--his cynicism, his practical good sense, and all his other prominent traits. A composition discussing all these could be made very interesting and enlightening.

2. Discuss the general political attitude of the average city councilman.

3. In an examination of the plot, what incident seems to you to mark the point of highest interest? Discuss fully.

4. How is Barton’s character relieved from any final censure for the spending of money for a statue of a rogue?

WHAT HAPPENED TO ALANNA

KATHLEEN NORRIS, a Californian by birth, has been a voluminous writer of magazine fiction since 1910, when she contributed two stories to the _Atlantic_--_What Happened to Alanna_ and _The Tide Marsh_.

To those who know Kathleen Norris’s _Mother_, nothing more need be said of this author’s ability to depict the wholesome sentiment of family life, without the sentimentality that clings to many of the ordinary short stories and novels. The less fortunate may make valuable acquaintance in the halls of Costello. F. X., Senior, 'undertaker by profession and mayor by an immense majority,' shares his position of importance by reason of the charms of his numerous offspring. Mrs. Costello is, of course, the centre of interest, as she is of the Costello circle, which means all who come within range of her generous hand and kindly word. Yet no one remains unindividualized. A few vivid strokes, and the picture is complete. If an artistic hand adds another touch now and then, we are never made conscious of technique. Especially is this true in the case of young Mrs. Church. And what more delightful could there be than the family conversations, which are quite as revealing in points of character as they are delightful in their flashes of humor?

_Suggested Points for Study and Comment_

1. What purpose does the detailed description of family life serve? Comment on the choice of detail.

2. Besides the plot, what are the most interesting elements in the story?

3. Could you suggest another climax?

4. What is gained by having Alanna solve her problem alone? How does the author arrange that the solution shall be thus accomplished?

5. Is Mrs. Church introduced for any reason other than her slight connection with the plot?

6. Is Mr. Costello as well portrayed as his wife? Can you suggest any reasons why he typifies the Irish-American rather than the native Irishman of the same rank?

7. How does Miss Norris achieve the atmosphere that she does?

8. Could the story be criticized as being sentimental?

SPENDTHRIFTS

LAURA SPENCER PORTOR (Mrs. Francis Pope) has long been engaged in literary work. Her essays and stories 'give proof of a versatility of experience as Protean as her talents.' Mrs. Pope is now connected with the editorial staff of one of the prominent New York magazines.

Perhaps that which impresses the reader most in _Spendthrifts_ is the production of an atmosphere that makes the strange seem real, and the commonplace take on a suggestion of the fanciful. Not half so wonderful is it that the woman of the orange-colored eyes should meet the lover of her youth, now a lay Franciscan, and live again with him the story of their love before a smilingly complacent husband, as that this story should have been unfolded before the eyes of a romantic little girl who went out to see the world in a rambling old coach. The author, like the successful playwright, completely transfers us to another world. The careful preparation of atmosphere is followed by a swift march of events to a climax the more powerful by the necessity of its restraint. The gradual trailing off into the dim romantic atmosphere out of which the story grew, calls for a curtain that may be raised again only on the author’s epilogue.

_Suggested Points for Study and Comment_

1. What can you say by way of comment on the somewhat leisurely beginning of this story?

2. What do you like best in the description of the old-fashioned 'bus?

3. Justify the author’s early paragraphs on the herds of dumb cattle.

4. Can you analyze the method by which the author makes even her most trivial details of the trip seem vital and interesting?

5. Is it true that most of these details--both narrative and descriptive--assume greater importance because they are seen through a child’s vision?

6. What items bring out the disturbed feelings of the Franciscan soon after he enters the 'bus?

7. Trace the details that very gradually portray the character of Louise’s husband.

8. What part does the description of the various costumes play in the portrayal of character?

9. As Louise analyzes to the Franciscan the past relations existing between them, do we find ourselves sympathizing with one or the other, or with neither?

10. What is the intended symbolism of the title, _Spendthrifts_?

11. What is symbolized by the herd of cattle?

CHILDREN WANTED

LUCY PRATT, a frequent contributor to magazines, lives in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

So slight is the plot in _Children Wanted_ that one might on reflection question whether there is a plot. In the actual reading, one becomes too absorbed in the very real situation that Miss Pratt presents to become coldly analytical. The vividness of Master Crosby Tarbell’s particular adventure with life is reflected, not only in the letter Mr. Henry Tarbell dispatches to a certain Pony Man, but in the reader’s own warm indignation at the carelessness, the cowardice, of compromising grown-ups in general. At the same time, Miss Pratt’s masterly use of commonplace detail, fully as much as the poignant bits of character delineation, such as that which ends the story, makes of _Children Wanted_ as effective a bit of narrative technique as it is a striking example of the propagandist’s art.

_Suggested Points for Study and Comment_

1. Is the chief interest of the story in the principal character or in the underlying theme?

2. Would the experience have meant as much to any child?

3. Why is the 'lady on the hill road' added to the list of customers?

4. What does Crosby’s father add to the story that Crosby’s mother could not? Would you have preferred to be told more about Mrs. Tarbell?

5. Do you find any explanations for the climax in the previous characterization of Crosby? How has the detailed description of the barn helped to reveal the lad’s sensitiveness?

THE SQUIRE

ELSIE SINGMASTER (Mrs. H. Lewars), a Pennsylvanian by birth and residence, has been writing at more or less irregular intervals ever since her first story was published in _Scribner’s Magazine_ twelve or thirteen years ago. Her reputation has been largely won by her sympathetic portrayal of the Pennsylvania Dutch character.

How adequately, how finally, a person can be characterized by his own conversations, all the principals in this little Millerstown drama demonstrate. Weakness, crudeness, selfishness, speak out their own existence. And, to shine by contrast in the midst of all this pettiness, is the figure of a man who makes the title 'Squire' mean what it has meant to certain English townships, and whatever more comes from responsibility assumed without force of precedent or hope of recompense.

_Suggested Points for Study and Comment_

1. What are the elements which produce the atmosphere of crudity that stands for Millerstown? Could any description of the town produce a like effect?

2. Would it have detracted from the story if Stemmel had been more elaborately portrayed?

3. How is the solution of the case prevented from appearing melodramatic?

4. Would the Squire’s sacrifice have gained or lost power if Adam and Sula were less irresponsible?

5. How do the Squire’s actions correspond to the tradition of his title? How different are they from what might have happened in a like situation in England?

6. Do you think Adam and Sula worthy of the Squire’s interest?

7. What stories growing out of this one remain to be told? Which would be the most interesting?

GREGORY AND THE SCUTTLE

CHARLES HASKINS TOWNSEND, an ichthyologist of international reputation, has been a member of many U. S. government commissions. His present address is The Aquarium, New York.

_Gregory and the Scuttle_, translated into the literal, means 'How the octopus came to the Aquarium.' In the literal version, the account might have been buried easily and unregretfully in the dry-as-dust records of the American Aquarium Society, or some such august receptacle of information; as it is, it becomes the easy, chatty adventure of one who proves himself human as well as scientific. Moreover, it behooves the practical investigator of the educative process to note that, by this sugar-coated method, various capsules of information slip down without violent contraction on the part of him who will be only entertained.

_Suggested Points for Study and Comment_

1. How is the title of the story indicative of its general tone?

2. Would Gregory’s vision of the adventure have been an interesting one? What would it lack that the scientist’s has?

3. When, if ever, does the scientist take the place of the story-teller?

4. What is the chief charm of the account? Would a series of such adventures--with all necessary variation--be altogether as delightful?

IN NOVEMBER

EDITH WYATT was born in Wisconsin, and educated at Chicago and Bryn Mawr. She has for years been a frequent contributor to the best of our American magazines. Her present home is in Chicago.

While listening to Miss Brackett’s naïve recital of her personal narrative, we somehow never lose consciousness of the interesting environment created in the beginning paragraphs. In most stories where the interest in surroundings is strong, we are chiefly concerned with the setting in which the incidents of the plot take place. In this instance, however, we are chiefly interested in the autumnal atmosphere in which Miss Brackett’s ingenuous tale is told. Here is Lake Michigan, all green and mist-blown, banding the whole horizon. There, in the broad southward, lie the full contours of the forest-covered dunes. And over all is the gray and purple sky of the late autumn. In the inner circle of all this is the camp, with Elsie Norris vividly portrayed in the centre. Her isolation is broken by the chance guest, who tells the intimate personal episodes, so charmingly marked by the artless notes of unselfishness. When the guest leaves and the other campers return, and Miss Norris wanders off alone to gather firewood for supper, the brooding influence of the pervading November scene is felt to be even more profound and impressive.

_Suggested Points for Study and Comment_

1. What are the three or four most graphic touches in the story?

2. What, aside from the setting, is the most impressive element in the story?

3. What comment can you make on Miss Wyatt’s feeling for style? What effects does she produce?

4. Comment on the slight but suggestive glimpse of Baby’s character. What other personages in the story show their sympathy for Miss Brackett?

5. Was it worth while to say anything about Mrs. Horick? Why is she mentioned? Do the slight details contribute to the interest of the story?

6. Mention three or four items which might have been elaborated into important incidents in the narrative.