Chapter XV: Part 15

I moved forward. I would have halted them, but Sheener caught my arm. I said hotly: "But see here. He can't throw you like that."

Sheener brushed his sleeve across his eyes. "Hell," he said huskily. "A gent like him can't let on that he knows a guy like me."

I looked at Sheener, and I forgot old Evans and his son. I looked at Sheener, and I caught his elbow and we turned away.

He had been quite right, of course, all the time. Blood will always tell. You can't keep a fast horse in a poor man's stable. And a man is always a man, in any guise.

If you still doubt, do as I did. Consider Sheener.

FOOTNOTE:

[20] Copyright, 1920, by P. F. Collier & Son, Inc. Copyright, 1921, by Ben Ames Williams.

TURKEY RED[21]

#By# FRANCES GILCHRIST WOOD

From _The Pictorial Review_

The old mail-sled running between Haney and Le Beau, in the days when Dakota was still a Territory, was nearing the end of its hundred-mile route.

It was a desolate country in those days: geographers still described it as The Great American Desert, and in looks it certainly deserved the title. Never was there anything as lonesome as that endless stretch of snow reaching across the world until it cut into a cold gray sky, excepting the same desert burned to a brown tinder by the hot wind of Summer.

Nothing but sky and plain and its voice, the wind, unless you might count a lonely sod shack blocked against the horizon, miles away from a neighbor, miles from anywhere, its red-curtained square of window glowing through the early twilight.

There were three men in the sled; Dan, the mail-carrier, crusty, belligerently Western, the self-elected guardian of every one on his route; Hillas, a younger man, hardly more than a boy, living on his pre-emption claim near the upper reaches of the stage line; the third a stranger from that part of the country vaguely defined as "the East." He was traveling, had given his name as Smith, and was as inquisitive about the country as he was reticent about his business there. Dan plainly disapproved of him.

They had driven the last cold miles in silence when the stage-driver turned to his neighbor. "Letter didn't say anything about coming out in the Spring to look over the country, did it?"

Hillas shook his head. "It was like all the rest, Dan. Don't want to build a railroad at all until the country's settled."

"God! Can't they see the other side of it? What it means to the folks already here to wait for it?"

The stranger thrust a suddenly interested profile above the handsome collar of his fur coat. He looked out over the waste of snow.

"You say there's no timber here?"

Dan maintained unfriendly silence and Hillas answered. "Nothing but scrub on the banks of the creeks. Years of prairie fires have burned out the trees, we think."

"Any ores--mines?"

The boy shook his head as he slid farther down in his worn buffalo coat of the plains.

"We're too busy rustling for something to eat first. And you can't develop mines without tools."

"Tools?"

"Yes, a railroad first of all."

Dan shifted the lines from one fur-mittened hand to the other, swinging the freed numbed arm in rhythmic beating against his body as he looked along the horizon a bit anxiously. The stranger shivered visibly.

"It's a god-forsaken country. Why don't you get out?"

Hillas, following Dan's glance around the blurred sky-line, answered absently, "Usual answer is, 'Leave? It's all I can do to stay here.'"

Smith regarded him irritably. "Why should any sane man ever have chosen this frozen wilderness?"

Hillas closed his eyes wearily. "We came in the Spring."

"I see!" The edged voice snapped, "Visionaries!"

Hillas's eyes opened again, wide, and then the boy was looking beyond the man with the far-seeing eyes of the plainsman. He spoke under his breath as if he were alone.

"Visionary, pioneer, American. That was the evolution in the beginning. Perhaps that is what we are." Suddenly the endurance in his voice went down before a wave of bitterness. "The first pioneers had to wait, too. How could they stand it so long!"

The young shoulders drooped as he thrust stiff fingers deep within the shapeless coat pockets. He slowly withdrew his right hand holding a parcel wrapped in brown paper. He tore a three-cornered flap in the cover, looked at the brightly colored contents, replaced the flap and returned the parcel, his chin a little higher.

Dan watched the northern sky-line restlessly. "It won't be snow. Look like a blizzard to you, Hillas?"

The traveler sat up. "Blizzard?"

"Yes," Dan drawled in willing contribution to his uneasiness, "the real Dakota article where blizzards are made. None of your eastern imitations, but a ninety-mile wind that whets slivers of ice off the frozen drifts all the way down from the North Pole. Only one good thing about a blizzard--it's over in a hurry. You get to shelter or you freeze to death."

A gust of wind flung a powder of snow stingingly against their faces. The traveler withdrew his head turtlewise within the handsome collar in final condemnation. "No man in his senses would ever have deliberately come here to live."

Dan turned. "Wouldn't, eh?"

"No."

"You're American?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I was born here. It's my country."

"Ever read about your Pilgrim Fathers?"

"Why, of course."

"Frontiersmen, same as us. You're living on what they did. We're getting this frontier ready for those who come after. Want our children to have a better chance than we had. Our reason's same as theirs. Hillas told you the truth. Country's all right if we had a railroad."

"Humph!" With a contemptuous look across the desert. "Where's your freight, your grain, cattle----"

"_West_-bound freight, coal, feed, seed-grain, work, and more neighbors."

"One-sided bargain. Road that hauls empties one way doesn't pay. No Company would risk a line through here."

The angles of Dan's jaw showed white. "Maybe. Ever get a chance to pay your debt to those Pilgrim pioneers? Ever take it? Think the stock was worth saving?"

He lifted his whip-handle toward a pin-point of light across the stretch of snow. "Donovan lives over there and Mis' Donovan. We call them 'old folks' now; their hair has turned white as these drifts in two years. All they've got is here. He's a real farmer and a lot of help to the country, but they won't last long like this."

Dan swung his arm toward a glimmer nor' by nor'east. "Mis' Clark lives there, a mile back from the stage road. Clark's down in Yankton earning money to keep them going. She's alone with her baby holding down the claim." Dan's arm sagged. "We've had women go crazy out here."

The whip-stock followed the empty horizon half round the compass to a lighted red square not more than two miles away. "Mis' Carson died in the Spring. Carson stayed until he was too poor to get away. There's three children--oldest's Katy, just eleven." Dan's words failed, but his eyes told. "Somebody will brag of them as ancestors some day. They'll deserve it if they live through this."

Dan's jaw squared as he leveled his whip-handle straight at the traveler. "I've answered your questions, now you answer mine! We know your opinion of the country--you're not traveling for pleasure or your health. What are you here for?"

"Business. My own!"

"There's two kinds of business out here this time of year. 'Tain't healthy for either of them." Dan's words were measured and clipped. "You've damned the West and all that's in it good and plenty. Now I say, damn the people anywhere in the whole country that won't pay their debts from pioneer to pioneer; that lets us fight the wilderness barehanded and die fighting; that won't risk----"

A gray film dropped down over the world, a leaden shroud that was not the coming of twilight. Dan jerked about, his whip cracked out over the heads of the leaders and they broke into a quick trot. The shriek of the runners along the frozen snow cut through the ominous darkness.

"Hillas," Dan's voice came sharply, "stand up and look for the light on Clark's guide-pole about a mile to the right. God help us if it ain't burning."

Hillas struggled up, one clumsy mitten thatching his eyes from the blinding needles. "I don't see it, Dan. We can't be more than a mile away. Hadn't you better break toward it?"

"Got to keep the track 'til we--see--light!"

The wind tore the words from his mouth as it struck them in lashing fury. The leaders had disappeared in a wall of snow but Dan's lash whistled forward in reminding authority. There was a moment's lull.

"See it, Hillas?"

"No, Dan."

Tiger-like the storm leaped again, bandying them about in its paws like captive mice. The horses swerved before the punishing blows, bunched, backed, tangled. Dan stood up shouting his orders of menacing appeal above the storm.

Again a breathing space before the next deadly impact. As it came Hillas shouted, "I see it--there, Dan! It's a red light. She's in trouble."

Through the whirling smother and chaos of Dan's cries and the struggling horses the sled lunged out of the road into unbroken drifts. Again the leaders swung sidewise before the lashing of a thousand lariats of ice and bunched against the wheel-horses. Dan swore, prayed, mastered them with far-reaching lash, then the off leader went down. Dan felt behind him for Hillas and shoved the reins against his arm.

"I'll get him up--or cut leaders--loose! If I don't--come back--drive to light. _Don't--get--out!_"

Dan disappeared in the white fury. There were sounds of a struggle; the sled jerked sharply and stood still. Slowly it strained forward.

Hillas was standing, one foot outside on the runner, as they traveled a team's length ahead. He gave a cry--"Dan! Dan!" and gripped a furry bulk that lumbered up out of the drift.

"All--right--son." Dan reached for the reins.

Frantically they fought their slow way toward the blurred light, staggering on in a fight with the odds too savage to last. They stopped abruptly as the winded leaders leaned against a wall interposed between themselves and insatiable fury.

Dan stepped over the dashboard, groped his way along the tongue between the wheel-horses and reached the leeway of a shadowy square. "It's the shed, Hillas. Help get the team in." The exhausted animals crowded into the narrow space without protest.

"Find the guide-rope to the house, Dan?"

"On the other side, toward the shack. Where's--Smith?"

"Here, by the shed."

Dan turned toward the stranger's voice.

"We're going 'round to the blizzard-line tied from shed to shack. Take hold of it and don't let go. If you do you'll freeze before we can find you. When the wind comes, turn your back and wait. Go on when it dies down and never let go the rope. Ready? The wind's dropped. Here, Hillas, next to me."

Three blurs hugged the sod walls around to the north-east corner. The forward shadow reached upward to a swaying rope, lifted the hand of the second who guided the third.

"Hang on to my belt, too, Hillas. Ready--Smith? Got the rope?"

They crawled forward, three barely visible figures, six, eight, ten steps. With a shriek the wind tore at them, beat the breath from their bodies, cut them with stinging needle-points and threw them aside. Dan reached back to make sure of Hillas who fumbled through the darkness for the stranger.

Slowly they struggled ahead, the cold growing more intense; two steps, four, and the mounting fury of the blizzard reached its zenith. The blurs swayed like battered leaves on a vine that the wind tore in two at last and flung the living beings wide. Dan, slinging to the broken rope, rolled over and found Hillas with the frayed end of the line in his hand, reaching about through the black drifts for the stranger. Dan crept closer, his mouth at Hillas's ear, shouting, "Quick! Right behind me if we're to live through it!"

The next moment Hillas let go the rope. Dan reached madly. "Boy, you can't find him--it'll only be two instead of one! Hillas! Hillas!"

The storm screamed louder than the plainsman and began heaping the snow over three obstructions in its path, two that groped slowly and one that lay still. Dan fumbled at his belt, unfastened it, slipped the rope through the buckle, knotted it and crept its full length back toward the boy. A snow-covered something moved forward guiding another, one arm groping in blind search, reached and touched the man clinging to the belt.

Beaten and buffeted by the ceaseless fury that no longer gave quarter, they slowly fought their way hand-over-hand along the rope, Dan now crawling last. After a frozen eternity they reached the end of the line fastened man-high against a second haven of wall. Hillas pushed open the unlocked door, the three men staggered in and fell panting against the side of the room.

The stage-driver recovered first, pulled off his mittens, examined his fingers and felt quickly of nose, ears, and chin. He looked sharply at Hillas and nodded. Unceremoniously they stripped off the stranger's gloves; reached for a pan, opened the door, dipped it into the drift and plunged Smith's fingers down in the snow.

"Your nose is white, too. Thaw it out."

Abruptly Dan indicated a bench against the wall where the two men seated would take up less space.

"I'm----" The stranger's voice was unsteady. "I----," but Dan had turned his back and his attention to the homesteader.

The eight by ten room constituted the entire home. A shed roof slanted from eight feet high on the door and window side to a bit more than five on the other. A bed in one corner took up most of the space, and the remaining necessities were bestowed with the compactness of a ship's cabin. The rough boards of the roof and walls had been hidden by a covering of newspapers, with a row of illustrations pasted picture height. Cushions and curtains of turkey-red calico brightened the homely shack.

The driver had slipped off his buffalo coat and was bending over a baby exhaustedly fighting for breath that whistled shrilly through a closing throat. The mother, scarcely more than a girl, held her in tensely extended arms.

"How long's she been this way?"

"She began to choke up day before yesterday, just after you passed on the down trip."

The driver laid big finger tips on the restless wrist.

"She always has the croup when she cuts a tooth, Dan, but this is different. I've used all the medicines I have--nothing relieves the choking."

The girl lifted heavy eyelids above blue semicircles of fatigue and the compelling terror back of her eyes forced a question through dry lips.

"Dan, do you know what membranous croup is like? Is this it?"

The stage-driver picked up the lamp and held it close to the child's face, bringing out with distressing clearness the blue-veined pallor, sunken eyes, and effort of impeded breathing. He frowned, putting the lamp back quickly.

"Mebbe it is, Mis' Clark, but don't you be scared. We'll help you a spell."

Dan lifted the red curtain from the cupboard, found an emptied lard-pail, half filled it with water and placed it on an oil-stove that stood in the center of the room. He looked questioningly about the four walls, discovered a cleverly contrived tool-box beneath the cupboard shelves sorted out a pair of pincers and bits of iron, laying the latter in a row over the oil blaze. He took down a can of condensed milk, poured a spoonful of the thick stuff into a cup of water and made room for it near the bits of heating iron.

He turned to the girl, opened his lips as if to speak with a face full of pity.

Along the four-foot space between the end of the bed and the opposite wall the girl walked, crooning to the sick child she carried. As they watched, the low song died away, her shoulder rubbed heavily against the boarding, her eyelids dropped and she stood sound asleep. The next hard-drawn breath of the baby roused her and she stumbled on, crooning a lullaby.

Smith clutched the younger man's shoulder. "God, Hillas, look where she's marked the wall rubbing against it! Do you suppose she's been walking that way for three days and nights? Why, she's only a child--no older than my own daughter."

Hillas nodded.

"Where are her people? Where's her husband?"

"Down in Yankton, Dan told you, working for the Winter. Got to have the money to live."

"Where's the doctor?"

"Nearest one's in Haney--four days' trip away by stage."

The traveler stared, frowningly.

Dan was looking about the room again and after prodding the gay seat in the corner, lifted the cover and picked up a folded blanket, shaking out the erstwhile padded cushion. He hung the blanket over the back of a chair.

"Mis' Clark, there's nothing but steam will touch membranous croup. We saved my baby that way last year. Set here and I'll fix things."

He put the steaming lard-pail on the floor beside the mother and lifted the blanket over the baby's head. She put up her hand.

"She's so little, Dan, and weak. How am I going to know if she--if she----"

Dan re-arranged the blanket tent. "Jest get under with her yourself, Mis' Clark, then you'll know all that's happening."

With the pincers he picked up a bit of hot iron and dropped it hissing into the pail, which he pushed beneath the tent. The room was oppressively quiet, walled in by the thick sod from the storm. The blanket muffled the sound of the child's breathing and the girl no longer stumbled against the wall.

Dan lifted the corner of the blanket and another bit of iron hissed as it struck the water. The older man leaned toward the younger.

"Stove--fire?" with a gesture of protest against the inadequate oil blaze.

Hillas whispered, "Can't afford it. Coal is $9.00 in Haney, $18.00 here."

They sat with heads thrust forward, listening in the intolerable silence. Dan lifted the blanket, hearkened a moment, then--"pst!" another bit of iron fell into the pail. Dan stooped to the tool-chest for a reserve supply when a strangling cough made him spring to his feet and hurriedly lift the blanket.

The child was beating the air with tiny fists, fighting for breath. The mother stood rigid, arms out.

"Turn her this way!" Dan shifted the struggling child, face out. "Now watch out for the----"

The strangling cough broke and a horrible something--"It's the membrane! She's too weak--let me have her!"

Dan snatched the child and turned it face downward. The blue-faced baby fought in a supreme effort--again the horrible something--then Dan laid the child, white and motionless, in her mother's arms. She held the limp body close, her eyes wide with fear.

"Dan, is--is she----?"

A faint sobbing breath of relief fluttered the pale lips that moved in the merest ghost of a smile. The heavy eyelids half-lifted and the child nestled against its mother's breast. The girl swayed, shaking with sobs, "Baby--baby!"

She struggled for self-control and stood up straight and pale. "Dan, I ought to tell you. When it began to get dark with the storm and time to put up the lantern, I was afraid to leave the baby. If she strangled when I was gone--with no one to help her--she would die!"

Her lips quivered as she drew the child closer. "I didn't go right away but--I did--at last. I propped her up in bed and ran. If I hadn't----" Her eyes were wide with the shadowy edge of horror, "If I hadn't--you'd have been lost in the blizzard and--my baby would have died!"

She stood before the men as if for judgment, her face wet with unchecked tears. Dan patted her shoulder dumbly and touched a fresh, livid bruise that ran from the curling hair on her temple down across cheek and chin.

"Did you get this then?"

She nodded. "The storm threw me against the pole when I hoisted the lantern. I thought I'd--never--get back!"

It was Smith who translated Dan's look of appeal for the cup of warm milk and held it to the girl's lips.

"Drink it, Mis' Clark, you need it."

She made heroic attempts to swallow, her head drooped lower over the cup and fell against the driver's rough sleeve. "Poor kid, dead asleep!"

Dan guided her stumbling feet toward the bed that the traveler sprang to open. She guarded the baby in the protecting angle of her arm into safety upon the pillow, then fell like a log beside her. Dan slipped off the felt boots, lifted her feet to the bed and softly drew covers over mother and child.

"Poor kid, but she's grit, clear through!"

Dan walked to the window, looked out at the lessening storm, then at the tiny alarm-clock on the cupboard. "Be over pretty soon now!" He seated himself by the table, dropped his head wearily forward on folded arms and was asleep.

The traveler's face had lost some of its shrewdness. It was as if the white frontier had seized and shaken him into a new conception of life. He moved restlessly along the bench, then stepped softly to the side of the bed and straightened the coverlet into greater nicety while his lips twitched.

With consuming care he folded the blanket and restored the corner seat to its accustomed appearance of luxury. He looked about the room, picked up the gray kitten sleeping contentedly on the floor and settled it on the red cushion with anxious attention to comfort.

He examined with curiosity the few books carefully covered in a corner shelf, took down an old hand-tooled volume and lifted his eyebrows at the ancient coat of arms on the book plate. He tiptoed across to the bench and pointed to the script beneath the plate. "Edward Winslow (7) to his dear daughter, Alice (8)."

He motioned toward the bed. "Her name?"

Hillas nodded. Smith grinned. "Dan's right. Blood will tell, even to damning the rest of us."

He sat down on the bench. "I understand more than I did, Hillas, since--you crawled back after me--out there. But how can you stand it here? I know you and the Clarks are people of education and, oh, all the rest; you could make your way anywhere."

Hillas spoke slowly. "I think you have to live here to know. It means something to be a pioneer. You can't be one if you've got it in you to be a quitter. The country will be all right some day." He reached for his greatcoat, bringing out a brown-paper parcel. He smiled at it oddly and went on as if talking to himself.

"When the drought and the hot winds come in the Summer and burn the buffalo grass to a tinder and the monotony of the plains weighs on you as it does now, there's a common, low-growing cactus scattered over the prairie that blooms into the gayest red flower you ever saw.

"It wouldn't count for much anywhere else, but the pluck of it, without rain for months, dew even. It's the 'colors of courage.'"

He turned the torn parcel, showing the bright red within, and looked at the cupboard and window with shining, tired eyes.

"Up and down the frontier in these shacks, homes, you'll find things made of turkey-red calico, cheap, common elsewhere----" He fingered the three-cornered flap, "It's our 'colors.'" He put the parcel back in his pocket. "I bought two yards yesterday after--I got a letter at Haney."

Smith sat looking at the gay curtains before him. The fury of the storm was dying down into fitful gusts. Dan stirred, looked quickly toward the bed, then the window, and got up quietly.

"I'll hitch up. We'll stop at Peterson's and tell her to come over." He closed the door noiselessly.

The traveler was frowning intently. Finally he turned toward the boy who sat with his head leaning back against the wall, eyes closed.

"Hillas," his very tones were awkward, "they call me a shrewd business man. I am, it's a selfish job and I'm not reforming now. But twice to-night you--children have risked your lives, without thought, for a stranger. I've been thinking about that railroad. Haven't you raised any grain or cattle that could be used for freight?"

The low answer was toneless. "Drought killed the crops, prairie fires burned the hay, of course the cattle starved."

"There's no timber, ore, nothing that could be used for east-bound shipment?"

The plainsman looked searchingly into the face of the older man. "There's no timber this side the Missouri. Across the river, it's reservation--Sioux. We----" He frowned and stopped.

Smith stood up, his hands thrust deep in his pockets. "I admitted I was shrewd, Hillas, but I'm not yellow clear through, not enough to betray this part of the frontier anyhow. I had a man along here last Fall spying for minerals. That's why I'm out here now. If you know the location, and we both think you do, I'll put capital in your way to develop the mines and use what pull I have to get the road in."

He looked down at the boy and thrust out a masterful jaw. There was a ring of sincerity no one could mistake when he spoke again.

"This country's a desert now, but I'd back the Sahara peopled with your kind. This is on the square, Hillas, don't tell me you won't believe I'm--American enough to trust?"

The boy tried to speak. With stiffened body and clenched hands he struggled for self-control. Finally in a ragged whisper, "If I try to tell you what--it means--I can't talk! Dan and I know of outcropping coal over in the Buttes." He nodded in the direction of the Missouri, "but we haven't had enough money to file mining claims."

"Know where to dig for samples under this snow?"

The boy nodded. "Some in my shack too. I--" His head went down upon the crossed arms. Smith laid an awkward hand on the heaving shoulders, then rose and crossed the room to where the girl had stumbled in her vigil. Gently he touched the darkened streak where her shoulders had rubbed and blurred the newspaper print. He looked from the relentless white desert outside to the gay bravery within and bent his head, "Turkey-red--calico!"

There was the sound of jingling harness and the crunch of runners. The men bundled into fur coats.

"Hillas, the draw right by the house here," Smith stopped and looked sharply at the plainsman, then went on with firm carelessness, "This draw ought to strike a low grade that would come out near the river level. Does Dan know Clark's address?" Hillas nodded.

They tiptoed out and closed the door behind them softly. The wind had swept every cloud from the sky and the light of the Northern stars etched a dazzling world. Dan was checking up the leaders as Hillas caught him by the shoulder and shook him like a clumsy bear.

"Dan, you blind old mole, can you see the headlight of the Overland Freight blazing and thundering down that draw over the Great Missouri and Eastern?"

Dan stared.

"I knew you couldn't!" Hillas thumped him with furry fist. "Dan," the wind might easily have drowned the unsteady voice, "I've told Mr. Smith about the coal--for freight. He's going to help us get capital for mining and after that the road."

"Smith! Smith! Well I'll be--aren't you a claim spotter?"

He turned abruptly and crunched toward the stage. His passengers followed. Dan paused with his foot on the runner and looked steadily at the traveler from under lowered, shaggy brows.

"You're going to get a road out here?"

"I've told Hillas I'll put money in your way to mine the coal. Then the railroad will come."

Dan's voice rasped with tension. "We'll get out the coal. Are you going to see that the road's built?"

Unconsciously the traveler held up his right hand, "I am!"

Dan searched his face sharply. Smith nodded, "I'm making my bet on the people--friend!"

It was a new Dan who lifted his bronzed face to a white world. His voice was low and very gentle. "To bring a road here," he swung his whip-handle from Donovan's light around to Carson's square, sweeping in all that lay behind, "out here to them--" The pioneer faced the wide desert that reached into a misty space ablaze with stars, "would be like--playing God!"

The whip thudded softly into the socket and Dan rolled up on the driver's seat. Two men climbed in behind him. The long lash swung out over the leaders as Dan headed the old mail-sled across the drifted right-of-way of the Great Missouri and Eastern.

FOOTNOTE:

[21] Copyright, 1919, by The Pictorial Review Company. Copyright, 1921, by Frances Gilchrist Wood.

THE YEARBOOK OF THE AMERICAN SHORT STORY, OCTOBER, 1919, TO SEPTEMBER, 1920

ADDRESSES OF AMERICAN MAGAZINES PUBLISHING SHORT STORIES

#Note.# _This address list does not aim to be complete, but is based simply on the magazines which I have consulted for this volume._

Adventure, Spring and Macdougal Streets, New York City. Ainslee's Magazine, 79 Seventh Avenue, New York City. American Boy, 142 Lafayette Boulevard, Detroit, Michigan. American Magazine, 381 Fourth Avenue, New York City. Argosy All-Story Weekly, 280 Broadway, New York City. Asia, 627 Lexington Avenue, New York City. Atlantic Monthly, 8 Arlington Street, Boston, Mass. Black Cat, 229 West 28th Street, New York City. Catholic World, 120 West 60th Street, New York City. Century, 353 Fourth Avenue, New York City. Christian Herald, Bible House, New York City. Collier's Weekly, 416 West 13th Street, New York City. Cosmopolitan Magazine, 119 West 40th Street, New York City. Delineator, Spring and Macdougal Streets, New York City. Dial, 152 West 13th Street, New York City. Everybody's Magazine, Spring and Macdougal Streets, New York City. Freeman, 32 West 58th Street, New York City. Good Housekeeping, 119 West 40th Street, New York City. Harper's Bazar, 119 West 40th Street, New York City. Harper's Magazine, Franklin Square, New York City. Hearst's Magazine, 119 West 40th Street, New York City. Holland's Magazine, Dallas, Texas. Ladies' Home Journal, Independence Square, Philadelphia, Pa. Liberator, 34 Union Square East, New York City. Little Review, 24 West 16th Street, New York City. Little Story Magazine, 714 Drexel Building, Philadelphia, Pa. Live Stories, 35 West 39th Street, New York City. McCall's Magazine, 236 West 37th Street, New York City. McClure's Magazine, 76 Fifth Avenue, New York City. Magnificat, Manchester, N. H. Metropolitan, 432 Fourth Avenue, New York City. Midland, Glennie, Alcona County, Mich. Munsey's Magazine, 280 Broadway, New York City. Outlook, 381 Fourth Avenue, New York City. Pagan, 7 East 15th Street, New York City. Parisienne, 25 West 45th Street, New York City. People's Favorite Magazine, 79 Seventh Avenue, New York City. Pictorial Review, 216 West 39th Street, New York City. Popular Magazine, 79 Seventh Avenue, New York City. Queen's Work, 626 North Vandeventer Avenue, St. Louis, Mo. Red Book Magazine, North American Building, Chicago, Ill. Saturday Evening Post, Independence Square, Philadelphia, Pa. Scribner's Magazine, 597 Fifth Avenue, New York City. Short Stories, Garden City, Long Island, N. Y. Smart Set, 25 West 45th Street, New York City. Snappy Stories, 35 West 39th Street, New York City. Sunset, 460 Fourth Street, San Francisco, Cal. To-day's Housewife, Cooperstown, N. Y. Top-Notch Magazine, 79 Seventh Avenue, New York City. Touchstone, 1 West 47th Street, New York City. Woman's Home Companion, 381 Fourth Avenue, New York City. Woman's World, 107 South Clinton Street, Chicago, Ill.

THE BIBLIOGRAPHICAL ROLL OF HONOR OF AMERICAN SHORT STORIES

OCTOBER, 1919, TO SEPTEMBER, 1920

#Note.# _Only stories by American authors are listed. The best stories are indicated by an asterisk before the title of the story. The index figures 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6 prefixed to the name of the author indicate that his work has been included in the Rolls of Honor for 1914, 1915, 1916, 1917, 1918, and 1919 respectively. The list excludes reprints._

(56) #Abdullah, Achmed# (_for biography, see 1918_).

Evening Rice.

#Aitken, Kenneth Lyndwode.# Born at Hamilton, Ont., Canada, July 13, 1881. Education: N. Y. Public Schools and Ridley College, Ont. Profession: Electrical Engineer. Was Manager, City Electric Plant, Toronto, for four years. Chief interests: writing and photography. First story: "Height o' Land," Canadian Magazine, 1904. Died in California Dec. 5, 1919.

From the Admiralty Files.

#Anderson, C. Farley.#

Octogenarian.

#Anderson, Jane.#

Happiest Man in the World.

(3456) #Anderson, Sherwood# (_for biography, see 1917_).

*Door of the Trap.
*I Want to Know Why.
*Other Woman.
*Triumph of the Egg.

#Anderton, Daisy.# Born in Bedford, Ohio. High School education. First story: "Emmy's Solution," Pagan, Feb., 1919. Author of "Cousin Sadie," a novel, 1920. Lives in Bedford, Ohio.

Belated Girlhood.

(3456) #Babcock, Edwina Stanton# (_for biography, see 1917_).

*Gargoyle.

(6) #Barnes, Djuna# (_for biography, see 1919_).

*Beyond the End.
*Mother.

#Benét, Stephen Vincent.# Born in Bethlehem, Pa., July 22, 1898. Education: Yale University, M. A. Chief interests: "Reading and writing poetry, playing and watching tennis, swimming without any participial qualification, and walking around between this and the other side of Paradise with a verse in one hand and a brick for my elders in the other like the rest of the incipient generation." First story: "Funeral of Mr. Bixby," Munsey's Magazine, July, 1920. Author of "Five Men and Pompey," 1915; "Young Adventure," 1918; "Heavens and Earth," 1920.

Summer Thunder.

#Bercovici, Konrad.# Born June 23, 1882. Dobrudgea, Rumania. Educated there and in the streets of Paris. "In other cities it was completed as far as humanly possible." Profession: organist. Chief interests: people, horses, and gardens. First short story printed at the age of twelve in a Rumanian magazine. Author of "Crimes of Charity" and "Dust of New York." Lives in New York City.

*Ghitza.

#Boulton, Agnes.# Born in London, England, Sept. 19, 1893, of American parents. Lived as a child near Barnegat Bay, N. J. Educated at home. First story published in the Black Cat. Married Eugene O'Neill, the playwright, 1918. Lives in Provincetown, Mass.

Hater of Mediocrity.

(2346) #Brown, Alice# (_for biography, see 1917_).

*Old Lemuel's Journey.

(56) #Brownell, Agnes Mary# (_for biography, see 1918_).

*Buttermilk.
Quest.
Relation.

#Bryner, Edna Clare.# Born in Tylersburg, Penn., and spent her childhood in the lumbering region of that state. Graduate of Vassar College. Has been engaged in teaching, statistical work, reform school work, and eugenic, educational, and housing research. Chief interests: Music and friends in the winter; Adirondack trails in the summer. First story: "Life of Five Points," Dial, Sept., 1920. Lives in New York City.

*Life of Five Points.

(1456) #Burt, Maxwell Struthers# (_for biography, see 1917_).

*Dream or Two.
*Each in His Generation.
*When His Ships Came In.

(56) #Cabell, James Branch# (_for biography, see 1918_).

*Designs of Miramon.
*Feathers of Olrun.
*Hair of Melicent.
*Head of Misery.
*Hour of Freydis.

#Camp, (Charles) Wadsworth.# Born in Philadelphia, Oct. 18, 1879. Graduate of Princeton University, 1902. Married, 1916. On staff of N. Y. Evening Sun, 1902-5; sub-editor McClure's Magazine, 1905-6; editor of The Metropolitan, 1906-9; European correspondent, Collier's Weekly, 1916. Author: "Sinister Island," 1915; "The House of Fear," 1916; "War's Dark Frame," 1917; "The Abandoned Room," 1917; etc. Lives in New York City.

*Signal Tower.

#Carnevali, Emanuel.#

Tales of a Hurried Man. I.

#Chapman, Edith.#

Classical Case.

(2345) #Cobb, Irvin S.# (_for biography, see 1917_).

Story That Ends Twice.

#Corley, Donald.#

*Daimyo's Bowl.

(6) #Cram, Mildred# (_for biography, see 1919_).

*Odell.
Spring of Cold Water.
Wind.

#Crew, Helen Coale.# Born in Baltimore, Md., 1866. Graduate of Bryn Mawr College, 1889. First short story, "The Lost Oasis," Everybody's Magazine, Nov., 1910. Lives in Evanston, Ill.

*Parting Genius.

#Delano, Edith Barnard.# Born in Washington, D. C. Married in 1908. Author: "Zebedee V.," 1912; "The Land of Content," 1913; "The Colonel's Experiment," 1913; "Rags," 1915; "The White Pearl," 1916; "June," 1916; "To-morrow Morning," 1917. Lives in East Orange, N. J.

Life and the Tide.

(456) #Dobie, Charles Caldwell# (_for biography, see 1917_).

*Christmas Cakes.
*Leech.

#Dodge, Louis.# Born at Burlington, Ia., Sept. 27, 1870. Educated at Whitman College, Ark. Unmarried. In newspaper work in Texas and St. Louis since 1893. Author: "Bonnie May," 1916; "Children of the Desert," 1917. Lives in St. Louis, Mo.

Case of MacIntyre.

(36) #Dreiser, Theodore# (_for biography, see 1919_).

*Sanctuary.

(5) #Ellerbe, Alma and Paul# (_for biographies, see 1918_).

Paradise Shares.

(4) #Ferber, Edna# (_for biography, see 1917_).

*Maternal Feminine.
*You've Got To Be Selfish.

#Fillmore, Parker.# Born at Cincinnati, O., Sept. 21, 1878. Graduated from University of Cincinnati, 1901. Unmarried. Teacher in Philippine Islands, 1901-4. Banker in Cincinnati since 1904. Author: "The Hickory Limb," 1910; "The Young Idea," 1911; "The Rosie World," 1914; "A Little Question in Ladies' Rights," 1916; "Czecho-Slovak Fairy Tales," 1919; "The Shoemaker's Last," 1920. Lives in Cincinnati, O.

Katcha and the Devil.

#Finger, Charles J.# Born at Willesden, England, Sept. 25, 1871. Common School education. Railroad Executive. Has traveled widely in South America, including Patagonia, and Tierra del Fuego. Spent more than a year upon an uninhabited island, accompanied only by "Sartor Resartus." First story: "How Lazy Sam Got His Raise," Youth's Companion, 1897. Author of "Guided by the World," 1901; "A Bohemian Life," 1902. Lives in Fayetteville, Ark.

*Ebro.
Jack Random.

(6) #Fish, Horace# (_for biography, see 1919_).

*Doom's-Day Envelope.

#Follett, Wilson.#

*Dive.

(4) #Folsom, Elizabeth Irons# (_for biography, see 1917_).

Alibi.

(12345) #Gerould, Katharine Fullerton# (_for biography, see 1917_).

*Habakkuk.
*Honest Man.

(5) #Gilbert, George# (_for biography, see 1918_).

Sigh of the Bulbul.

(1345) #Gordon, Armistead C.# (_for biography, see 1917_).

*Panjorum Bucket.

#Halverson, Delbert M.# Born on a farm near Linn Grove, Ia. Educated at the State University of Iowa. First story: "Leaves in the Wind," Midland, April, 1920. Lives in Minneapolis, Minn.

Leaves in the Wind.

(4) #Hartman, Lee Foster# (_for biography, see 1917_).

*Judgment of Vulcan.

(56) #Hergesheimer, Joseph# (_for biography, see 1918_).

*Blue Ice.
*Ever So Long Ago.
*Meeker Ritual (II).
*"Read Them and Weep."

(25) #Hughes, Rupert# (_for biography, see 1918_).

*Stick-in-the-Muds.

#Hunting, Ema S.# Born at Sioux Rapids, Iowa, Oct. 8, 1885. Educated at Fort Dodge High School, Ia., and graduate of Grinnell College, 1908. Author of "A Dickens Revival." Writer of one-act plays and children's stories. First short story: "Dissipation," Midland, May, 1920. Lives at Denver, Col.

Dissipation.
Soul That Sinneth.

#Hussey, L. M.# Born in Philadelphia. Studied medicine and chemistry. Director of a laboratory of biological research. First story: "The Sorrows of Mr. Harlcomb," published in the Smart Set about 1916. At present occupied with writing a novel. Lives in Philadelphia, Pa.

Lowden Household.
Two Gentlemen of Caracas.

(6) #Irwin, Wallace# (_for biography, see 1919_).

Beauty.

#Johns, Orrick.#

Big Frog.

(256) #Johnson, Arthur# (_for biography, see 1918_).

*Princess of Tork.

(3) #Knight, (Clifford) Reynolds.# Born at Fulton, Kan., 1886. Educated at Washburn College, Topeka, and University of Michigan. Has been engaged in railroad and newspaper work. Taught in the Signal Corps Training School at Yale during the war. Now on the editorial staff of the Kansas City Star. Chief interests: Books and music. First published story: "The Rule of Three," The Railroad Man's Magazine, Oct., 1911. Author: "Tommy of the Voices," 1918. Lives in Kansas City, Mo.

*Melody Jim.

#Komroff, Manuel.#

Thumbs.

"#Kral, Carlos A. V."# Born in a country town in southern Michigan, Dec. 29, 1890, of Czech-Yankee descent. Has lived continuously since three years of age in one of the large cities of the Great Lakes. Graduated from a public high school, but was educated chiefly by thought and private study.

Landscape with Trees, and Colored Twilight with Music.

(6) #La Motte, Ellen Newbold.# Born in Louisville, Ky., of northern parentage. Privately educated. Graduated from the Johns Hopkins Hospital in 1902. Since engaged in social work and public health work. Was in charge of the Tuberculosis Division of the Baltimore Health Dept. for several years. Has been living chiefly in Paris since 1913. Was in France with a year's service in a Field Hospital attached to the French Army. Spent a year in China and the Far East, 1916-7. Chief interests: the under dog, either the individual or nation. First short story: "Heroes," Atlantic Monthly, Aug., 1916. Author: "The Tuberculosis Nurse," 1914; "The Backwash of War," 1916; "Peking Dust," 1919; "Civilization," 1919. "The Backwash of War" was suppressed by the British, French and American governments. It went through four printings first, and is now released again.

Golden Stars.

#McCourt, Edna Wahlert.#

*Lichen.

(6) #MacManus, Seumas.#

Conaleen and Donaleen.
Heartbreak of Norah O'Hara.
Lad from Largymore.

#Mann, Jane.# Born near New York City of Knickerbocker ancestry. After college preparatory school had several years of art education. Chief interest: wandering along coasts, living with the natives, seeing what they do and hearing what they say. First published story: "Men and a Gale o' Wind," Collier's Weekly, Nov. 8, 1913. Lives in Provincetown, Mass.

Heritage.

#Mason, Grace Sartwell.# Born at Port Allegheny, Pa., Oct. 31, 1877. Educated privately. Married to Redfern Mason, the musical critic, 1902. Author: "The Car and the Lady," 1909; "The Godparents," 1910; "Micky and His Gang," 1912; "The Bear's Claws" (with John Northern Hilliard), 1913; "The Golden Hope," 1915. Lives at Carmel, Cal.

*His Job.

(6) #"Maxwell, Helena"# (_for biography, see 1919_).

Adolescence.

#Mears, Mary M.# Born at Oshkosh, Wis. Educated at State Normal School, Wis. Unmarried. Journalist since 1896. Author: "Emma Lou--Her Book," 1896; "Breath of the Runners," 1906; "The Bird in the Box"; "Rosamond the Second." Lives in New York City.

Forbidden Thing.

(36) #Montague, Margaret Prescott# (_for biography, see 1919_).

*Uncle Sam of Freedom Ridge.

(6) #Murray, Roy Irving.# Born at Brooklyn, Wis., July 25, 1882. Graduated from Hobart College, 1904. First story: "Sealed Orders," McBride's Magazine, Dec., 1915. Is a master at St. Mark's School, Southborough, Mass.

Substitute.

(6) #Muth, Edna Tucker.#

*Gallipeau.

#O'Brien, Frederick.# Born in Baltimore. Educated in a Jesuit school. Shipped before the mast at the age of 18. Tramped over Brazil as a day laborer, and through the West Indies. Returned to America and read law in his father's office. Wandered without money over Europe, and was a sandwichman in London. On the staff of the Paris Herald for a few months. Travelled over the western states as a hobo, was a bartender in a Mississippi levee camp, acted as a general with Coxey's Army, became a crime reporter for the Marion Star, owned by Senator Harding, Sub-editor of the Columbus Dispatch, Labor Editor of the N. Y. Journal, an investigator of crime in the Chicago slums, a freelance in San Francisco, and editor of the Honolulu Advertiser. Lived with the natives in Hawaii, published a newspaper in Manila, spent eight years as Far Eastern correspondent of the N. Y. Herald, went through the Russo-Japanese War, returned to Europe as a correspondent, spent some years on a fruit ranch in California, engaged in politics, owned two newspapers, and finally lived as a beachcomber in Tahiti, the Society Islands, the Paumoto Islands and Marquesan Islands. During 1920 he was in New York and wrote "White Shadows in the South Seas." He has now returned to Asia, leaving another book, "Drifting Among South Sea Isles," which is to be published immediately.

*Jade Bracelet of Ah Queen.

#"O'Grady, R."# is a pen name of a lady who lives in Des Moines, Ia. She is a graduate of the State University of Iowa, and is now engaged in newspaper work.

Brothers.

#O'Hagan, Anne.# Born in Washington, D. C. Graduate of Boston University. Since engaged on newspaper and magazine work. First story published about 1898. Chief interests: Suffrage and housekeeping. Married in March, 1908, to Francis A. Shinn. Lives in New York City.

Return.

(45) #O'Higgins, Harvey J.# (_for biography, see 1917_).

Story of Big Dan Reilly.
*Story of Mrs. Murchison.
Strange Case of Warden Jupp.

(5) #Oppenheim, James# (_for biography, see 1918_).

*Rending.

#Osbourne, Lloyd.# Born in San Francisco, April 7, 1868. Stepson of Robert Louis Stevenson. Educated at University of Edinburgh. Married 1896. Has been U. S. A. Vice-Consul-General at Samoa. Author: "The Wrong Box" (with R. L. Stevenson), 1889; "The Wrecker" (with R. L. Stevenson), 1892; "The Ebb Tide" (with R. L. Stevenson), 1894; "The Queen vs. Billy," 1900; "Love, the Fiddler," 1905; "The Motor-maniacs," 1905; "Wild Justice," 1906; "Three Speeds Forward," 1906; "Baby Bullet," 1906; "The Tin Diskers," 1906; "Schmidt," 1907; "The Adventurer," 1907; "Infatuation," 1909; "A Person of Some Importance," 1911; and other novels and short stories. Has written and produced several plays. Lives in New York City.

East is East.

(345) #O'Sullivan, Vincent# (_for biography, see 1917_).

*Dance-Hall at Unigenitus.

(123) #Post, Melville Davisson.# Born in Harrison County, W. Va., Apr. 19, 1871. Graduate of West Virginia University in arts and law, 1892. Married 1903. Admitted to the Bar in 1892. Member of the Board of Regents, State Normal School. Chairman of the Democratic Congressional Commission for West Virginia, 1898. Member of the Advisory Committee of the N. E. L. on question of efficiency in administration of justice, 1914-15. Author: "The Strange Schemes of Randolph Mason," 1896; "The Man of Last Resort," 1897; "Dwellers in the Hills," 1901; "The Corrector of Destinies," 1909; "The Gilded Chair," 1910; "The Nameless Thing," 1912; "Uncle Abner: Master of Mysteries," 1918; "The Mystery at the Blue Villa," 1919; "The Sleuth of St. James's Square," 1920. Lives at Lost Creek, West Virginia.

Yellow Flower.

#Reindel, Margaret H.# Born in Cleveland, O., Dec. 2, 1896. Graduated from Western Reserve University, 1919, and spent a year at Columbia University. Now working in a New York department store. First story published: "Fear," The Touchstone. Lives in New York City.

Fear.

#Rice, Louise.#

*Lubbeny Kiss.

#Roche, Arthur Somers.# Born in Somerville, Mass., Apr. 27, 1883. Son of James Jeffrey Roche. Educated at Holy Cross College and Boston University Law School. Married. Practised law for two years. Engaged in journalism since 1906. Author: "Loot," 1916; "Plunder," 1917; "The Sport of Kings," 1917. Lives at Castine, Me.

*Dummy-Chucker.

(3) #Roche, Mazo De La.#

Explorers of the Dawn.

(234) #Rosenblatt, Benjamin# (_for biography, see 1917_).

*Stepping Westward.

#Rumsey, Frances.# Born in New York City in 1886. Educated in France. Has lived chiefly in England and France, and now passes her time between Normandy, London, and New York. Married. First short story: "Cash," Century Magazine, August, 1920. Author: "Mr. Gushing and Mademoiselle du Chastel," 1917. Translator: "Japanese Impressions," by Couchoud, 1920.

*Cash.

(5) #Russell, John# (_for biography, see 1918_).

Wreck on Deliverance.

#"Rutledge, Maryse."# Born in New York City, Nov. 24, 1884. Educated in private schools, New York and Paris. Chief interests: painting, tenting, canoeing, and hunting in Maine. Married to Gardner Hale, the mural fresco painter. First story published in the Smart Set about 1903. Author: "Anne of Tréboul," 1904; "The Blind Who See"; "Wild Grapes," 1912; "Children of Fate," 1917. Divides her time between Paris and New York City.

House of Fuller.

#Ryan, Kathryn White.# Born in Albany, N. Y. Convent school education. Married. Lived in Denver until 1919. First story published: "The Orchids," Munsey's Magazine, May, 1919. Lives in New York City.

Man of Cone.

#Saphier, William.# Born in northern Rumania in 1883. Comes of a long line of butchers. Primary school education in Rumania. Student at the Art Institute of Chicago for a short time. Painter and machinist. Editor of "Others," 1917. Illustrator: "The Book of Jeremiah," 1920; "Pins for Wings," by Witter Bynner, 1920. First published story: "Kites," The Little Review. Lives in New York City.

Kites.

(356) #Sedgwick, Anne Douglas# (_for biography, see 1918_).

*Christmas Roses.

(6) #Sidney, Rose.# Born in Toledo, O., 1888. Educated in private schools and at Columbia University. "My profession consists largely in trying to make odd holes and corners of the earth into temporary homes for my army officer husband." First published story: "Grapes of the San Jacinto," The Pictorial Review, Sept., 1919. Now living in California.

*Butterflies.

(123456) #Singmaster, Elsie# (_for biography, see 1917_).

Miss Vilda.
Salvadora.

(345) #Springer, Fleta Campbell# (_for biography, see 1917_).

*Civilization.
*Rotter.

(23456) #Steele, Wilbur Daniel# (_for biography, see 1917_).

*Both Judge and Jury.
*God's Mercy.
*Out of Exile.

#"Storm, Ethel."# Born at Winnebago City, Minnesota. Lived in New York City since early childhood. Privately educated. Chief interests: decorative art, gardening, people. First published story: "Burned Hands," Harper's Bazar, Nov., 1918. Lives in New York City.

*Three Telegrams.

(5) #Street, Julian# (_for biography, see_ 1918).

Hands.

(3456) #Vorse, Mary Heaton# (_for biography, see_ 1917).

*Fraycar's Fist.
*Hopper.
Pink Fence.

#Ward, Herbert Dickinson.# Born at Waltham, Mass., June 30, 1861. Graduate of Amherst College, 1884. Married Elizabeth Stuart Phelps, 1888; and Edna J. Jeffress, 1916. Author of numerous books for boys and girls. Lives in Newton, Mass.

Master Note.

#Welles, Harriet Ogden Deen.# Born in New York City. Educated in private schools. Studied art. Wife of Rear Admiral Roger Welles, U. S. Navy. Author of "Anchors Aweigh," 1919. Lives in San Diego, Cal.

According to Ruskin.

#Wheelwright, John T.# Born at Roxbury, Mass., Feb. 26, 1856. Educated at Roxbury Latin School and Harvard University. Profession: Lawyer. Has been interested in public affairs, and has held appointive offices under the State of Massachusetts and the City of Boston. Was one of the founders of the Harvard Lampoon. On editorial staff of Boston Advertiser, 1882-3. Author: "Rollo's Journey to Cambridge" (with F. J. Stimson), 1880; "The King's Men" (with John Boyle O'Reilly, F. J. Stimson, and Robert Grant), 1884; "A Child of the Century," 1886; "A Bad Penny," 1896; "War Children," 1907. Lives in Boston, Mass.

*Roman Bath.

#Whitman, Stephen French.#

*Amazement.
*Lost Waltz.
*To a Venetian Tune.

(56) #Williams, Ben Ames# (_for biography, see_ 1918).

*Sheener.

#Wilson, John Fleming.# Born at Erie, Pa., Feb. 22, 1877. Educated at Parsons College and Princeton University. Teacher, 1900-2; journalist, 1902-5; editor San Francisco Argonaut, 1906. Married, 1906. Author: "The Land Claimers," 1910; "Across the Latitudes," 1911; "The Man Who Came Back," 1912; "The Princess of Sorry Valley," 1913; "Tad Sheldon and His Boy Scouts," 1913; "The Master Key," 1915.

Uncharted Reefs.

(6) #Wilson, Margaret Adelaide.# Educated at Portland Academy, Portland, Oregon, and at an eastern college. Since then she has lived chiefly on her father's ranch in the San Jacinto Valley, California. First published story: "Towata and His Brother Wind," The Bellman, about 1907. Lives at Hemet, Cal.

Drums.

(5) #Wood, Frances Gilchrist# (_for biography, see 1918_).

*Spoiling of Pharaoh.
*Turkey Red.

(6) #Yezierska, Anzia# (_for biography, see 1919_).

*Hunger.

THE ROLL OF HONOR OF FOREIGN SHORT STORIES IN AMERICAN MAGAZINES

OCTOBER, 1919, TO SEPTEMBER, 1920

#Note.# _Stories of special excellence are indicated by an asterisk. The index figures 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6 prefixed to the name of the author indicate that his work has been included in the Rolls of Honor for 1914, 1915, 1916, 1917, 1918, and 1919 respectively. The list excludes reprints._

I. #English and Irish Authors#

(123456) #Aumonier, Stacy.#

*Good Action.
*Golden Windmill.
*Great Unimpressionable.
*Just the Same.
*Landlord of "The-Love-a-Duck."

#Barker, Granville.#

Bigamist.

#Beck, L. Adams.#

Fire of Beauty.
Incomparable Lady.

(12356) #Blackwood, Algernon.#

*First Hate.
*Running Wolf.

#Buchan, John.#

Fullcircle.

(6) #Burke, Thomas.#

*Scarlet Shoes.

#Dobrée, Bonamy.#

Surfeit.

(456) #Dudeney, Mrs. Henry E.#

Wild Raspberries.

(46) #Dunsany, Lord.#

*Cheng Hi and the Window Framer.
*East and West.
*How the Lost Causes Were Removed from Valhalla.
*Pretty Quarrel.

#Ervine, St. John G.#

Dramatist and the Leading Lady.

(2) #Gibbon, Perceval.#

*Connoisseur.
Knave of Diamonds.
Lieutenant.

#Holding, Elizabeth Sanxay.#

Problem that Perplexed Nicholson.

(4) #Lawrence, D. H.#

*Adolf.

#MacManus, L.#

Baptism.

#Merrick, Leonard.#

To Daphne De Vere.

#Monro, Harold.#

*Parcel of Love.

(456) #Mordaunt, Elinor.#

*Adventures in the Night.
*Ginger Jar.

#Nevinson, Henry W.#

*In Diocletian's Day.

#Owen, H. Collinson.#

Temptation of Antoine.

#Richardson, Dorothy M.#

*Sunday.

#Sinclair, May.#

*Fame.

(5) #Stephens, James.#

*Boss.
*Desire.
*Thieves.

(2) Walpole, Hugh.

*Case of Miss Morganhurst.
*Fanny's Job.
*Honourable Clive Torby.
*No Place for Absalom.
*Stealthy Visitor.
*Third Sex.

II. #Translations#

(4) #Andreyev, Leonid.# (_Russian._)

*Promise of Spring.

Anonymous. (_Chinese._)

*Romance of the Western Pavilion.

(6) #Blasco Ibáñez, Vicente.# (_Spanish._)

Old Woman of the Movies.
Sleeping-Car Porter.

(6) #"France, Anatole." (Jacques Anatole Thibault.)# (_French._)

*Lady With the White Fan.

#Ibáñez, Vicente Blasco.# (_Spanish._) _See_ #Blasco Ibáñez, Vicente.#

#Kotsyubinsky, Michael.# (_Russian._)

By the Sea.

(6) #Level, Maurice.# (_French._)

Empty House.
Kennel.
Maniac.
Son of His Father.

#Lichtenberger, André.# (_French._)

Old Fisherwoman.

#Louÿs, Pierre.# (_French._)

False Esther.

#Nodier, Charles.# (_French._)

*Bibliomaniac.

#Rameau, Jean.# (_French._)

Ocarina.

(4) #Saltykov, M. E.# (_Russian._)

*Wild Squire.

#Schnitzler, Arthur.# (_German._)

*Crumbled Blossoms.

#Thibault, Jacques Anatole.# (_French._) _See_ "#France, Anatole.#"

#Trueba, Antonio De.# (_Spanish._)

Portal of Heaven.

#Yushkevitch, Semyon.# (_Russian._)

Pietà.

THE BEST BOOKS OF SHORT STORIES OF 1920: A CRITICAL SUMMARY

#The Ten Best American Books#

1. #Brown.# Homespun and Gold. Macmillan. 2. #Cather.# Youth and the Bright Medusa. Knopf. 3. #Dwight.# The Emperor of Elam. Doubleday, Page. 4. #Howells,# _Editor._ Great Modern American Stories. Boni & Liveright. 5. #Johnson.# Under the Rose. Harper. 6. #Sedgwick.# Christmas Roses. Houghton Mifflin. 7. #Smith.# Pagan. Scribner. 8. Society of Arts and Sciences. #O. Henry# Prize Stories, 1919. Doubleday, Page. 9. #Spofford.# The Elder's People. Houghton Mifflin. 10. #Yezierska.# Hungry Hearts. Houghton Mifflin.

#The Ten Best English Books#

1. #Beerbohm.# Seven Men. Knopf. 2. #Cannan.# Windmills. Huebsch. 3. #Dunsany.# Tales of Three Hemispheres. Luce. 4. #Easton.# Golden Bird. Knopf. 5. #Evans.# My Neighbours. Harcourt, Brace, and Howe. 6. #Galsworthy.# Tatterdemalion. Scribner. 7. #Huxley.# Limbo. Doran. 8. #O'Kelly.# The Golden Barque, and the Weaver's Grave. Putnam. 9. #Trevena.# By Violence. Four Seas. 10. #Wylie.# Holy Fire. Lane.

#The Ten Best Translations#