diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/69966-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/69966-0.txt | 2235 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 2235 deletions
diff --git a/old/69966-0.txt b/old/69966-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index ff0008f..0000000 --- a/old/69966-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2235 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Yale Literary Magazine (Vol. -LXXXIX, No. 1, 1923), by Various - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The Yale Literary Magazine (Vol. LXXXIX, No. 1, 1923) - -Author: Various - -Release Date: February 6, 2023 [eBook #69966] - -Language: English - -Produced by: hekula03, Carla Foust and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was - produced from images made available by the HathiTrust - Digital Library.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE YALE LITERARY MAGAZINE -(VOL. LXXXIX, NO. 1, 1923) *** - - - - - - +----------------------------------------------------------------+ - | Vol. LXXXIX No. 1 | - | | - | The | - | | - | Yale Literary Magazine | - | | - | Conducted by the | - | | - | Students of Yale University. | - | | - | [Illustration] | - | | - | “Dum mens grata manet, nomen laudesque YALENSES | - | Cantabunt SOBOLES, unanimique PATRES.” | - | | - | ----::---- | - | | - | October, 1923. | - | | - | ----::---- | - | | - | New Haven: Published by the Editors. | - | | - | Printed at the Van Dyck Press. 121-123 Olive St., New Haven. | - | | - | ----::---- | - | | - | Price: Thirty-five Cents. | - | | - | _Entered as second-class matter at the New Haven Post Office._ | - +----------------------------------------------------------------+ - - - - - +-----------------------+ - | WEBER’S STUDIO | - | | - | Photographers to Yale | - | Since 1910 | - +-----------------------+ - - - - - +--------------------------------------------+ - | | - | DON’T ABUSE YOUR EYES | - | | - | Men who are working on themes and | - | theses will find the new YALE THEME | - | TABLET very beneficial. | - | | - | | - | It is Scientifically Prepared to | - | Prevent Glare and Relieve Eye Strain | - | | - | for sale at | - | | - | THE CO-OP. | - +--------------------------------------------+ - - - - - +------------------------------------------------------------+ - | ESTABLISHED 1818 | - | | - | _Brooks Brothers_, | - | | - | CLOTHING, | - | | - | Gentlemen’s Furnishing Goods, | - | | - | MADISON AVENUE COR. FORTY-FOURTH STREET | - | NEW YORK | - | | - | _Telephone Murray Hill 8800_ | - | | - | Clothing Ready made or to Measure for Autumn | - | | - | Evening Clothes, Cutaways, Sack Suits | - | Sporting Clothes and Medium-weight Overcoats | - | English and Domestic Hats & Furnishings | - | Boots and Shoes for Dress, Street and Outdoor Sport | - | Trunks, Bags & Leather Goods | - | | - | _Send for “Comparisons”_ | - | | - | The next visit of our Representative to | - | the HOTEL TAFT | - | will be on November 6 and 7 | - | | - | BOSTON NEWPORT | - | TREMONT COR. BOYLSTON 220 BELLEVUE AVENUE | - +------------------------------------------------------------+ - - - - - +------------------------------------------------------------+ - | Tailored Models Tailored Models | - | Ready-to-Wear Ready-to-Wear | - | Suits Top-Coats | - | | - | Introductory Offer | - | | - | To introduce our individual line of imported English | - | Woolens and Scotch Tweeds we are making a special | - | offering. We also have a few special tailored models | - | for immediate use. | - | | - | | - | WILKES LTD. | - | English Tailors | - | York Street--Opposite Harkness | - | | - | 4-Piece Suits Top-Coats | - | $47.50 $42.50 | - +------------------------------------------------------------+ - - - - - - - - +-------------------------------------------------------------------+ - | THE YALE LITERARY MAGAZINE | - | | - | | - | | - | | - | Contents | - | | - | OCTOBER, 1923 | - | | - | | - | Leader _Morris Tyler_ 1 | - | | - | Corydon _Lucius Beebe_ 5 | - | | - | “The Swift and Sharp-tongued Flame of Death” | - | _Eugene A. Davidson_ 7 | - | | - | Three Poems _Walter Edwards Houghton, Jr._ 8 | - | | - | To One Bereaved _D. G. Carter_ 11 | - | | - | Lady of the Sea _R. P. Crenshaw, Jr._ 12 | - | | - | Coelum non animum mutant qui trans mare currunt | - | _Morris Tyler_ 13 | - | | - | Quatrains _C. G. Poore_ 14 | - | | - | Lines _John R. Chamberlain_ 15 | - | | - | The Great Pan Jandrum _W. T. Bissell_ 16 | - | | - | Maurice Hewlett _Richard L. Purdy_ 22 | - | | - | The Egolatress _C. G. Poore_ 25 | - | | - | Book Reviews 37 | - | | - | Editor’s Table 44 | - | | - +-------------------------------------------------------------------+ - - - - - The Yale Literary Magazine - - VOL. LXXXIX OCTOBER, 1923 NO. 1 - - - _EDITORS_ - - WALTER EDWARDS HOUGHTON, JR. - LAIRD SHIELDS GOLDSBOROUGH - DAVID GILLIS CARTER - MORRIS TYLER - NORMAN REGINALD JAFFRAY - - - _BUSINESS MANAGERS_ - - GEORGE W. P. HEFFELFINGER - WALTER CRAFTS - - - - -_Leader_ - - -It would be difficult for even the most blindly ardent supporter of -Yale to deny that the traditional four-year course for the degree of -Bachelor of Arts no longer remains intact. There are probably fewer who -realize that an ever increasing number are receiving that degree after -completing a course that has had little or no relation to the field of -learning to which, by its very title, it is closely related. - -Disintegration of the long established College curriculum has been -going on ever since the war. It began with the introduction of the old -“Select Course” of the Scientific School into the Academic curriculum -under the imposing title of Bachelor of Philosophy. This innovation -was followed shortly by the institution of the Common Freshman Year. -Furthermore, if a student now intends to become a lawyer, he may devote -an entire year (and that his Senior year) to the study of law--and yet -graduate as a Bachelor of Arts. Likewise, if an undergraduate desires -to devote his life to the practice of medicine, he may start as early -as Sophomore year, spending most of his time in the laboratories on -Prospect Hill scrutinizing the hidden mechanism of feline organs--and -still graduate as a Bachelor of Arts. In other words, assuming -that the Freshman year is not very different from what it was in -ante-bellum days, which is not the case, one-third of every class in -Yale College is now graduated as B.A. men without more than a three -years’ “exposure” to the subjects which, in the eyes of the world, are -customarily associated with that educational label. - -The reason for this state of affairs may be fairly stated in a single -word--vocationalism. This utilitarian mania for taking the short-cut -to one’s life-work has been in recent years the ideal of a large -portion of American college men, and has left its mark on almost every -educational institution in this country, by forcing them to change -their curricula to meet the demand. Harvard long ago yielded to the -pressure of vocational demands in the matter of time, permitting -graduation in three years. It was not long after that Columbia took -still more drastic action by allowing admission to her graduate -schools at the end of Junior Year. In so doing these institutions were -unconsciously practicing the methods of the Correspondence Schools and -the twenty-lessons-in-your-home concerns whose business it is to supply -the needs of those who seek the short road to the payroll. The liberal -colleges endeavoring to provide such short-cuts by making inroads on -their liberal curricula are untrue to their genius and merely challenge -impossible competition. - -It may be argued that this desire for specialization at the earliest -possible moment was the natural result of the ever increasing -complexity of modern life and the bewildering ramifications of -present-day knowledge which forced the bulk of undergraduates to accept -isolation in a single subject. This may be quite true, yet there -remains the question of whether or not it is the place of the college, -and in particular Yale College, to offer that opportunity even in part. - -The recognized place for specialization is the graduate school. The -graduate student works presumably in a special atmosphere created by -the common labors of a common group for a common end; the end being -a particular degree desired because it has come to signify that the -bearer of such a symbol has mastered the details of a recognized -branch of learning. A graduate school is the most suitable medium -for accomplishing the task in hand. It is the only reason we have -post-graduate schools at all. - -The existing situation in the college is exactly the reverse. Those who -are working for the B.A. degree and nothing else are carrying on side -by side with what are in reality pre-medical students and first-year -lawyers. Out of this have sprung two separate points of view on the -same campus. On the one hand there is a group which pursues its studies -with the realization that upon the complete mastery of every detail -depends in a large measure the success or failure of its life-work. On -the other, there remain those who are still searching in their work -for that particular field which to them will seem to be the one to -which they wish to devote their future time and energy. The result is a -repetition of the old story of the house divided against itself. It is -just this condition, we believe, that has led to such restless, groping -questionings as, “What is Yale for?” The definition of a university as -being one body of which there are many members admirably illustrates -the point. For the college to-day is in the anomalous position of -attempting to perform the duties of two members where it formerly -functioned as one. Such a state of affairs is not conducive to the -health of any organization whatever. - -The solution in the minds of many seems to lie in the abolishment -of the old college course, following the law of the survival of the -fittest. This issue of our present afflictions we believe would be a -regretable blunder. There should always be a place for the study of the -so-called liberal arts; for the contemplation of “all the best that has -been thought and said and done in the world”. Without such a background -many a man cannot do his best work. What place is better fitted to -continue this undertaking than Yale, established in this spirit, as -attested by the words of the founder, “I give these books for the -founding of a college”? Professor Mather in a recent address summed up -the ideal of the college in these glowing terms: - -“The college does its work alongside a dozen other equally worthy -educational institutions, mostly vocational. It does not compete with -them; it directly supplements them and incidentally aids them. It has -its own aims, which are not immediately practical, vocational, or -material. - -“I should like to see inscribed over our college portals the following -inscription: - -“‘Generous Youth! Enter at your peril. We may so quicken your -imagination as to bring you loss as the world counts it. There may be -a great inventor in you now, there may only be a poet in you when you -leave us; the captain of industry in you may give place to some obscure -pursuit of philosophy; you are literary, we shall leave you forever -incapable of best sellers; you are philanthropic, we may develop the -detached critic in you; you are politically shrewd and practical, we -may bring out the Utopian visionary in you. For our values are not -those of the world of work, with which we can only incidentally help -you to make terms--our values are those of the world of thought. We -shall make you contemporary of all ages, and since you must after all -live in this age, such an extension of your interest and imagination -may make you an exile in your own day and place. We offer you no -material reward of any sort for your effort here, we may even diminish -the rewards you would enjoy if you kept away from us. We offer you -nothing but what we ourselves most treasure--the companionship of the -great dreamers and thinkers. Enter if you dare. Should you enter, this -college will be indeed to you Alma Mater. All that we have shall be -yours.’” - -In short, the duty of the college is to give its members their -intellectual bearings. What the prospective lawyer really needs to -broaden his horizon and prevent him from succumbing to the bondage of -his shop, is letters, science, mathematics; what the future doctor -needs is letters, art, history, and the unbiological sciences. This -ought to be the function of the college. To continue along any other -line is to destroy forever the Yale that has held such an enviable -place in American life for over two centuries--to extinguish the light -that has been a source of guidance and inspiration to its large and -distinguished band of alumni. - - MORRIS TYLER. - - - - -_Corydon_ - - - The pleasant hills in solemn silence sleeping - Under a sunset of perpetual fire, - Past summer’s weeping, - Shall know no more the vibrant melody - Of thy sad songs, O lovely shepherd boy! - The winds are free - And chill November - Sweeps thy reed music and thy lyric joy - Away with all the things I would remember. - - The wood-smoke on the silent autumn air, - The disconsolate petals on the grass - Symbol despair, - And all the fragrance of divine Apollo - Is fled from this incalculable loss - Where none may follow. - Is there no rest - In the stark shadow of a naked cross - In silhouette against the scarlet west? - - Shall I forsake philosopher and sage - Rebellious drawn - From solemn cloister and scholastic page - And get me gone. - O shepherd of the slender fingers? - Guide me above the mountain passes - Through the lush grasses - Where thy music lingers, - Out of nocturnal anguish into dawn. - - For I shall sing to thee of Mytelene - And ancient things - And paint with poppied words a twilight scene - Where Lesbos flings - Her stretch of Sapphic isle - Over the sea. Ah, liquid interlude! - We would intrude - But for a little while - Upon the rapture of ambrosial springs. - - This then is all of the enchanted vision - Far from the dusty passion of the streets? - The world’s derision, - The inarticulate call - Of ageless things in the awakened woods, - Unhappy autumn moods - And the wan summons of a grieving fate, - Hastening through the twilight pall - And beauties vanished, inarticulate? - - Let no dim spectres haunt my darkened brain - Like aspens whispering at eventide - Of ancient pain - So oft repeated. - I shall flee far from the abysmal night, - Not in impetuous flight, - But, lingering by Lethe’s tideless void - Shall slumber undefeated - In sunset woods, forever unannoyed. - - LUCIUS BEEBE. - - - - -“_The Swift and Sharp-tongued Flame of Death_” - - - The swift and sharp-tongued flame of death - Has touched our hearts. We love no more; - No more for us to drink the breath - Of life in one long kiss and store - Its fragrance ’till we kiss again. - All that is gone, and gone our dreams. - Remember if you will. The stain - Of rich red wine for me, it seems, - Is better far than memories. - And lest the ghostly perfume smell - Too sweet, and life be drowned in seas - Like this--I drink and say farewell. - - EUGENE A. DAVIDSON. - - - - -_Three Poems_ - - -BENEDICTION - - “_I know not how he chose you from the crowd, came to your door, and - grasp your hand to ask his way._” - --_Rabindranath Tagore._ - - You may not question why he chose you - From so many more-- - Why his tiny hands have fumbled - At your door. - To a land of fifty cross-roads - He has come to-day, - Placed his eager hands in yours, - And asked his way. - - He will follow where you lead him-- - Bright and stormy skies; - And at evening still beside you - Close his eyes. - Keep his trust, O You the Chosen-- - Far shall be his way. - Clasp him to your heart and bless him - With all you may. - - -RECALL. - - “_Come back, my darling; the world is asleep; and no one would - know, if you came for a moment while stars are gazing at - stars._” - --_Rabindranath Tagore._ - - Dark was the hour you slipped away, - Veiled in the shadowed light. - Touched with a sleep the others lay - Then as they do to-night. - Come, my darling, oh, come to mother, - Come for an hour and go; - For the stars which gaze upon one another-- - Only the stars shall know. - - Fair was the spring you left behind, - Born of a teeming womb; - And now once more has a gentle wind - Breathed, and the gardens bloom. - Come, my darling, oh, come for an hour-- - Quick e’er the night is done; - And if you should ask for a single flower, - How could they miss just one? - - Those who played in the sun with you-- - Sure, they are playing still; - For Life is a spendthrift hand to woo, - Led by a reckless will. - Come, my darling, for treasured and deep - Take of my love but this; - And if once more to my arms you creep, - Who would begrudge one kiss? - - -JUST TO-DAY - - “_But just for to-day, tell me, Mother, where the desert ... in the - fairy tale is._” - --_Rabindranath Tagore._ - - -I. - - The shepherds slip into the fields - Where Father’s gone himself. - The books I should be studying - Are still upon the shelf. - O Mother, let me close my sleepy eyes, - And tell me where the fairy desert lies. - - -II. - - What makes you silent? Must you work - Like Father every hour? - Your hands are busy as two bees - Which suck a honey flower. - But, Mother, while the sunlight fills the skies, - Tell me where the Tagra Desert lies. - - -III. - - At curfew Father will return, - And I shall lose you then. - I promise some day I shall learn - As much as other men. - So, Mother, just before the daylight flies - Tell me where the Tagra Desert lies. - - WALTER EDWARDS HOUGHTON, JR. - - - - -_To One Bereaved_ - - - You welcomed me with such a joyous mask - Across the silence of your hurt wide eyes, - That I too forced banalities and lies - And dared no comfort, though I came to ask - The many little questions, long rehearsed, - Which meant relief, and friendship. What we said - So lightly, never touched upon the dead, - Yet we both knew that when we laughed we cursed - The bitter God who could make laughter too, - Beside this sorrow. Strange, we did not stare - Mute sympathy: I only smiling sought - To show I knew how bitterly was bought - Your cheerful beauty. But I turned my chair, - Once, when you laughed----, and looked away from you. - - D. G. CARTER. - - - - -_Lady of the Sea_ - - - Night, and vessels softly lifting - From the surges of the sea, - Arms to breezes ever shifting - As they whisper low to me. - - Silhouetted masts are weaving - Circles wavering to lean - Nearer waves in slumber heaving - Far below a cold moon’s sheen.... - - Clothed in glory, still and splendid, - Starlight shimmers in her hair, - And my lady’s form is blended - With the shadows, waiting there. - - As in silence we are taken - In the evening’s soft embrace, - Would I never could awaken - From the wonder in her face. - - R. P. CRENSHAW, JR. - - - - - _Coelum non animum mutant - Qui trans mare currunt._ - --_Horace._ - - - Sail forth across the jade-green sea and view the glades our fathers - trod, - Their rolling lawns of deathless sod, their hoary castles dear to - me. - - Catch the pale vision of the past, the sound of stealthy slippered - feet; - Rest on the moss-grown garden seat and find a lover’s shadow cast. - - Creep into Catherine cubicle and sense her icy presence there; - Her figure bent and drawn with care as Alchemist o’er crucible. - - Look down the waving lane of trees that lines the speckled road’s - approach - Where glides the flashing golden coach with gay plumes trembling in - the breeze. - - Gaze up at Longeais from the moat and feel the ages slip away - Until its grey walls seem at bay before the host in armored coat. - - Go to each ancient place above and bless it with your noiseless - tread; - Your presence there should stir the dead with tremulous warm - thoughts of love. - - Leave here for me your image fair, graven in crystal carved by time, - Untarnished as a star sublime, unchanging as the love I bear. - - God speed you under other skies, drink deep of Europe’s scented - charm, - But keep the gesture of your arm, the wistful wonder in your eyes. - - MORRIS TYLER. - - - - -_Quatrains_ - - -I. MORALITY - - Behold these proper lovers, when they meet: - Each longs for love’s caresses, but that heat - Must be suppressed; it is the moral code. - God made their passion.... Made he this deceit? - - -2. THE DYING THESPIAN - - The theatre was my life, the very breath - Of my existence, so what followeth - Shall be in keeping. Tell the player-world - I take my final rôle--the lead, in “Death”. - - -3. A MAIDEN LADY - - In younger days, her virtue was a veil - She planned to drop, when true love should assail. - No lovers came. Perforce, her life was chaste. - In age, she boasts her virtue’s iron mail! - - -4. FUTILITY - - So many, ere they leave this little sphere - Say thus and so observe my death; make cheer - Or weep, in just this way. - Well, as for me, - Mourn me or not: I shall not pause to hear! - - C. G. POORE. - - - - -_Lines_ - - - The cold pale patina of sky, - The brown upon the woodland leaf - With all frail lovely things that die - Blend in the autumn’s grief. - - For in each withered autumn flower - Is wonder where the dead may go, - And we slight children of an hour - May live and never know. - - JOHN R. CHAMBERLAIN. - - - - -_The Great Pan Jandrum_ - - -A beautiful tolerance of the various actions of all other people is -perhaps the most comprehensive statement of the virtue we admired in -him so zealously. An ingenuously boastful boy of twelve would find -in him a ready admirer of his most cherished deeds, and he appeared -to really appreciate the condescension of the youth of eighteen who -saw fit to confide in him, and to take their opinionated selves with -decent ceremony where others among their elders would have been merely -annoyed or else distressingly amused. People you had always regarded -as obviously undesirable, you found him praising--not in the manner of -one who champions the weaker side on principle, but because he actually -found strange things to like about them. But he was not one of the -quiet, gentle, charitable type whose humanity seems the result almost -of a want of character, and as such a questionable asset: he relished -things with the eager tastes of a performer rather than an onlooker, -being blessed also with a watchful and sometimes bursting sense of -humor which was as his religion, making him deal with events in the -guise of a priestly buffoon and people with a surgery as incisive as it -was good-natured. - -He was a connoisseur of people--a connoisseur of the happier type who -does not simply make a few things his own and damn the unfortunate -rest, but who finds that all food for the soul is good food, after all. -Thus he used to pick up all sorts of people and become tremendously -fond of them overnight. Any genuine person--whether a self-centered -young man or a despicable old one, or his gardener’s wife--was of the -greatest importance in his eyes. A trace of sentiment or pomposity in -one of the subjects of his observations was to him an intellectual -emetic as regards that person, but practically all other forms of -human failing delighted him quite as much, if not more than the most -inspiring strength. You felt that he, for one, had attained to a -perfect freedom from himself, so that he could sit back, unlike the -rest of us, and be entertained by the diverse abnormalities of his -companions: that he found his own passions wholly in the understanding -perusal of those of other people. - -An Irish servant once said of him: “Sure, now, he does like to see -the young people have a good time!” and it expressed brilliantly his -attitude. For to his mind, apparently all people were young people -whom he was watching at their diversions. In fact, if it had not been -for his hilarious sharing of our pleasures, he would have been to us -rather like a god: for he seemed older than we, as though he had known -of old the great lives upon Olympus and were down here to gratify some -fatherly instinct of sympathy for us. And when he sometimes left us, -one sensed the withdrawal of considerably more than a presence. We were -accustomed to him as one of the most active figures on the scene, but -still, when he went away, it was as if a harmonious background had also -been removed. In appearance he was fat. His head was large and his face -grave, in repose, like that of a serious child. - -There were stories, I was once shocked on finding out, about the Great -Pan Jandrum’s youth--stories of a vagueness that implied things about -him quite incongruous to the people who knew him now. Did he then -have a common youth, with all its attendant distortions?--it seemed -impossible. Evidently it had not been a romantic theatrical youth -either, in spite of its present shaded character. One lady simply -said he had been “nasty” and let it go at that. He seems to have been -a commonplace person then--aggressively commonplace, with all the -nauseating poses of his age strong in him, like diseases. Alcohol had -played a part, it seems; and he was not one of those who were made -genial or attractive by its use. One could have the heresy to make -a decent guess, after all this, as to one origin of his widespread -tolerance. - -But the placidity of his middle years had been of an amplitude to -swallow and almost entirely submerge these indefinite and hushed -enormities. So if any dignity in him had given it a chance, the -community, which was not large, would have looked upon him as a -benevolent influence. At a feast, without his contagious humor, he -would still have been a sort of golden aura to the occasion; to meet -him was to come away eased of the life-long burden of yourself, having -heard him laugh; and he had a gift for rendering people unable to look -seriously in the face of a calamity. You were always trying, in spite -of yourself, to worship him, he was so grand, and so you would have, -except that he was too dynamic for a pedestal. - -It almost made him, as a person, not ring true. His rôle was too exact. -Occasionally one would find one’s-self looking intently at his serious, -childish face--and wondering if there were not something behind it -besides a fund of geniality. He was too much of a cheerful background; -too understanding of the weaknesses of his neighbors; and in his humor -far too thorough not to be sometimes suspected to unreality. But it -was a passing doubt at best, and quite conceivably the product of our -imaginations as we looked backward from a later date. At any rate, he -was enjoyed and respected as a very rare personage indeed: a friend of -everyone alike, though no one in particular. You might have described -him to a perfect stranger as “a very amusing person”, but if he was -mentioned you really did not feel that way yourself. You did not think -of him as a person at all, in fact, but as the thing he was, or stood -for, as though he were the representative of something. - -But it seems that fate had written that the Pan Jandrum--the wise and -genial Pan Jandrum--the Great Pan Jandrum himself, was riding, all this -time, for a fall. - -Fortunately, I was away when it happened, as I should not like to have -seen it. For it is certain I should have shared the curiously intense -feeling of revulsion--or rather simply depression that settled upon -the community afterward. Several things contributed to the effect of -the event, chief of which was, of course, its publicity. Had he not -chosen the particular evening he did to cast aside every vestige of -self-control, no one might have known. But Mrs. Joe-Billy happened, on -that winter night, to be giving a dinner at her big house up on the -hill to which the Great Pan Jandrum had been invited, and from which he -stayed, for a time, conspicuously and unaccountably absent. - -Whether he was accidentally started by some inadvertent friend, or -whether he deliberately wished to enjoy himself, I do not know. Perhaps -he was just tired of his heroic rôle: that is, of our ridiculous yet -touching attitude toward him. - -Those who saw him during the earlier part of the evening, at the club, -never could be made to see the tragic side of the whole affair. Upon -them he apparently made an ineffaceable impression and from what we -others heard, it must have been a performance in the genuine grand -manner. It was, in a way, the glorious apex of his unreal career -among us. People who did not see him there were always very pitiless -about the way he acted, pity not being reserved, I suppose, for the -unpardonable failure of something as great as the Pan Jandrum. But I -have seen no one who did see him there who could tell of any part of -it without putting it on a lofty epic scale--even the saturnine barber -whose pride in his control of the imagination was like a perpetual -flower in his buttonhole. The quantity he had to drink was grown, by -the time it reached my ears, to an heroic figure. The picture was of -him seated in his shirt sleeves alone at a small table, immersed in -bottles. The smoke-filled grill room was thronged with young men and -dignitaries tip-toe on tables and chairs and chairs on tables in order -to hear him and see his stupendous gestures. Nobody could ever remember -anything, he said, but it was so impressive as to need but a day for -it to acquire a legendary character. I know for a fact that one of the -twelve old women of the village who lived a whole block away sent to -find the cause of the noise, and that old Mr. Galhoolie roared with -the best until it was too much for him and he was sick--in the English -sense--all down his patriarchal white beard. I have found myself -wishing I had been there, as I wish I had been at Camelot or at one of -the receptions given the Greek of many devices on his wanderings. - -But I do not wish I had been up on the hill that night, though that -was the dramatic part of the show. It came after he was known to have -escaped from the club alone, after a lengthy disappearance. Up there, -they had naturally supposed that he failed to fill his place on account -of some trivial domestic tragedy, or the advent of friends; or that -something had at last got into his solid old liver which during so many -years of good living had been besieged in vain. But when they heard -he was coming up there in all his magnificence they were horrified. A -morbid curiosity chained them there, but they awaited him in silent, -breathless apprehension, imagining him drawing slowly toward them like -an evil fate over the snowy intervening mile of road. Their reticence -was curious, and explained only by the unbelievableness of the Great -Pan Jandrum’s being uncontrolled--hilarious, crude, outlandish--they -didn’t know what. And they appreciated the occasion at once. It was no -ordinary man about to be foolish, disheartening as that would be under -the circumstances, but they realized that it would touch each one of us -inasmuch as we had put a certain rare type of faith in what he was. - -If only it had been hilarity, or crudity, or wildness that greeted -them! Their wait had been long enough and tense, with them talking -in low voices--asking each other hesitating little questions about -what they thought might happen. Suddenly some one started back with a -gasp, and they all turned to find his serious child’s face outside the -window, intently peering at them. - -There is no need to describe his actions subsequent to his entering -the house. He was not outlandish. He was merely quiet in voice and -manner with an appalling drunkard’s dignity, and he was fully dressed. -The cheer had all gone out of him. He talked for an hour without -pause, first to one, then to another, entirely about himself and with -horrible seriousness. Sententiousness and pomposity from the Great Pan -Jandrum! His tone was threatening; almost challenging all the while, -and there was that in his face which prevented any thought of stopping -him. Intimate, personal, half-finished thoughts issued from him like -loathsome abortions. He took the beautiful Mrs. Galhoolie’s hand in -his and told her he reverenced and respected her so much that he could -not ever love her as the others did. Everyone was left knowing in -excessively sentimental terms just what he thought of them. Everything -he uttered was an indecent exposure; every sentence tore away another -portion of the disguise--as it looked--that he had been so long -building. He was operating on himself in their presence, exposing the -nauseating entrails of his mind--so comfortable from the outside--and -forcing upon them the knowledge that he was as sordid and commonplace -as they in their very worst moments. When they brought him home and -left him they could hear him sobbing--great, deep-voiced, mountainous -sobs that shook his bed. - -But for me, the story of the evening gave the key to the man and made -him interesting. You may admire a point of view and you may even bask -in it, but you cannot make it your friend. It sounded precisely as -though a pent-up flood of gnawing sentiment and egoism had been let -loose in him. He must have had incurably Byronic tendencies which had -at some time or other offended his critical sense, and you saw him now -as a man despairingly and acutely aware of his vulgar heritage of ego -who had with his almost passionate interest in the fortunes of other -people built up the most powerful defense against himself that he could -think of. And there always was, too, I reflected, something of the -fanatic about his rôle of humorist. - -I should have been disturbed on our first meeting soon after the -performance, had it not come as a surprise. I was in Paris, and as I -was leaving my hotel one night for some kind of a festivity he popped -out of the darkness and shook me by the hand. We parted hastily, I -having time for little greeting. “Have a good time, now!” he said as -I left, and that old characteristic phrase of his rang in my ears as -I walked off down the street. He had said it with his usual cheerful, -interested smile and I looked in vain for a found-out expression I had -expected to notice in his face. I wondered if he realized what his -one false step had meant to our imaginations. For, as I afterwards -observed, it was not a question of his brazening it out: he evidently -had consigned it to the limbo of to-be-expected mistakes with a shrug -of the shoulders and took it for granted that we had done the same. -But, however this may be, I saw that he had already begun to build -another structure of worship in my esteem at any rate. Already my -newly discovered man was disappearing, engulfed as in a very splendid -costume which he had removed for a minute. And when next I saw him at -home I had again the ancient feeling of being bathed in a warm electric -light--that unaccountably had sparks, as well. - - W. T. BISSELL. - - - - -_Maurice Hewlett_ - - -In 1893 Mr. Edmund Gosse, with a fine perception of literary -tendencies, wrote: “It is my conviction that the limits of realism -have been reached; that no great writer who has not already adopted -the experimental system will do so; and that we ought now to be on the -lookout to welcome (and, of course, to persecute) a school of novelists -with a totally new aim, part of whose formula must unquestionably be -a concession to the human instinct for mystery and beauty.” The next -year, with “Ebb Tide”, “The Prisoner of Zenda”, and “Under the Red -Robe”, the signs were unmistakable, and what the critics have pleased -to call the Romantic Revival had begun. It was on the crest of this -wave of romanticism that Maurice Hewlett first appeared, and when that -wave had spent itself fifteen years later his best work was done. He -was at once a child of this movement, exhibiting in varied form its -most familiar phases, and a strange free spirit, deriving from no -literary movement, a romanticist by nature, not the exigencies of his -art. And so, if we feel the influence of the period in “The Forest -Lovers”, “The New Canterbury Tales”, “The Fool Errant”, and the rest, -it is in “The Queen’s Quair” and in “Richard Yea-and-Nay” that we -come upon the very essence of Hewlett’s art, an art which was quite -distinctively his own. These two novels he wrote to please himself. -They have been called his finest work. - -As Lionel Johnson said of Scott, so he might have said of Maurice -Hewlett: “In him the antiquarian spirit awoke a passion, instead of a -science.” Hewlett was mystically touched by the beauty of the Middle -Ages and by the beauty of the Renaissance. He was a mediaevalist, a -quattrocentist par excellence, but above all this, or perhaps, better, -as a physical embodiment of all this, he loved Italy with a passionate, -sensitive love. It was this love for Italy which so subtly affected -his character and gave to his novels their color and their warmth, -although strange enough very little of his life was spent in Italy and -little of his best work deals with its history or its people. It was -of England that he wrote in “The Queen’s Quair”, of England and the -Crusades in “Richard Yea-and-Nay”. So, if we grant to his affection for -Italy and her art the warmth and color of his novels, we must look for -their life, their vitality, to this same England and his understanding -love of her past, his oneness in spirit with even the simplest of those -characters which moved across the broad canvas of her history. - -It is not for me to say that either the color and warmth of Italy’s -art or the life and vitality of England’s past were exclusively the -foundation stones of Hewlett’s art. His novels are, all of them, -rich with intermingled threads like tapestry--not the heavy brocaded -tapestry of the poet Spenser, but a tapestry brilliant, yet often -misty and confused, that was quite his own. His backgrounds he built -of hundreds of figures, quickly and sharply etched in a manner -remarkably reminiscent of Sir Thomas Malory and Froissart. Against -this background which he had created with so lavish a care he laid his -greater figures--and I think of Richard and John Lackland and the old -King, Henry the Second, from “Richard Yea-and-Nay”--figures which he -had limned with broad, bold strokes and touched with a quiet wit. The -effect is not only that of tapestry but of old stained glass. We marvel -how the simple, splendid figures stand out and are yet a part of a -delicately wrought background. - -But in the movement of these greater figures before so complex a -background lay the weakness of Hewlett’s art. He knew the pageantry and -color of the lives he wrote about, but it was not given him to read -deeply beneath the gaily painted surface they presented. The movement -of his characters through the unfolding scenes of his romances is not -puppetry. Hewlett’s touch was too fresh, too original for that. It is -only that we see in part, whereas if he had had the power the whole -would be revealed to us. In his greatest novel, and in that novel -almost alone, the veil is lifted for a few moments. In those moments I -think he knew Richard. - -Perhaps, though, more than all else, the factor that can undermine the -permanence of Hewlett’s work is his style. His writing is twisted, -tortured, and--in the reading--perplexing. His prose is almost never -rhythmical; it is often awkward and harsh. The books he wrote to please -himself, his best work, he filled with archaic turns of speech until -their very pages seem to bear the marks of age. They are, as some one -has said, “the inventions of a connoisseur in the queer and remote, a -sort of transformation of Henry James’s involutions into terms of olden -days”. - -To cavil at this is difficult, as it is difficult to cavil at the -design and composition of the romances themselves, they are so -characteristic of their author. He turned his hand to modern England -in the novels of the English countryside, “Rest Harrow”, “Halfway -House”, and the others. He came back to the manner of his earlier -period in “Brazenhead the Great” and worked for a time in the field of -Norse legend. But he will be remembered longest by those two strange, -tangled, brilliant romances, “Richard Yea-and-Nay” and “The Queen’s -Quair”, the best expression his art ever found. Maurice Hewlett was a -colorist, a romancer, a passionate lover of ancient ways. We should -give thanks for the mystery of the Bowing Rood in the church of the -nuns at Fontevrault; for the beauty of Richard, his face covered with -his shield, standing at dawn upon the hills before Jerusalem. - - RICHARD L. PURDY. - - - - -_The Egolatress_ - - -Infinitely more lovely in the winter darkness than in the revealing -light of day, Summit Avenue stretched beneath the moon. The clashing -architectures of the huge houses were mercifully blurred into harmony -by the night, and the long piles of snow drew the picture into a loose, -graceful unity. Beneath the glowing strands of the boulevard lights -flowed a double current of automobiles, in smooth streams that wound -out to the suburbs and downtown to the bays of commerce and amusement. - -Before the doors of the Territorial Club the streams turned in a -sweeping curve, and occasionally cars left the current to turn in, -pause a moment before the pseudo-Gothic entrance, and then join the -parked flank in the driveway. - -A long blue roadster, once sleek and new, now battered, and dusty still -from months of confinement, slid to a stop, like a stick caught on the -bank of a stream. The young driver busied himself with the intricate -process of locking his car. It was dear to him. His companion climbed -out, shivering. - -“Great Scott! You have cold nights up there,” he said. “At home there’s -no snow on the ground at all.” - -The owner of the car laughed. “You’ll get used to it, in two weeks. -Throw that rug over the radiator, will you?” He finished locking -the car, got out, and, as an extra precaution, lifted the hood and -disconnected the spark-plugs. - -“Can’t be too careful of the old boiler,” he said apologetically. “If -it was stolen I wouldn’t get another one out of dad for a century.” - -In the lobby he nodded to the young negro who came to take their coats, -with the familiarity of a member, and turned to his companion, who was -glancing curiously at the chattering groups of men and girls in evening -dress who were in the lobby. - -“From the crowd, Tommy, I gather we’ve looked in on some one’s party. -Wait, and I’ll see who’s giving it.” - -In a tall, loosely hung way, Tommy was rather handsome; distinguished, -certainly. He had deep grey eyes, and a way of taking all things with -a slow, questioning smile, that either charmed or exasperated. He was -very dark; a Southerner; twenty-two perhaps. - -The other, short, and sandy-haired, and blue-eyed, carrying himself -with that preoccupied air of conscious importance which is so often -the aspect of short people, was in excellent contrast. By their -oppositeness they set one another off; rather to Tommy’s advantage. - -“Grant’s party, for Millicent,” his host said, returning. “Mrs. Grant’s -an old social-enemy and friend of mother’s; we’re invited to stay.” - -He led the way down a short hall to the right, past parted velvet -curtains, toward the source of the music. Before the formidable Mrs. -Grant, a matron of the over-stuffed type, he performed the amenities. - -“Mrs. Grant, this is Tommy Squire, my roommate at school. Tommy’s from -Richmond.” - -Mrs. Grant was very happy to meet a friend of Carl Twist’s. Tommy -accepted the three longest fingers of the drooping hand which she -extended to him with the manner of an operatic duchess, and managed -to convey his gratitude for the honor. As a further concession Mrs. -Grant propounded the unique theory that winters in the North were -apt to be _much_ colder than those in Virginia--“Don’t _you_ find it -so, Mr. Squire?” When the two had unanimously ratified her sagacious -observation, the audience was over. - -The club’s lounge and dining-room had been thrown into one; the -tables, later to be drawn out for supper, were massed in a corner, and -elaborate decorations festooned the walls. Under the rose and grey of -the low-beamed ceiling the whirl and color and indiscriminate noise of -unleashed exuberance of the first of the holiday dances throbbed and -spun to the music. There were men and girls from the universities, from -prep. schools and finishing schools, and a seasoning of those who had -graduated or dropped out. Most of them had returned within the week, -and each time that the music stopped there were numerous impromptu, -frenzied reunions, as friends parted for an age of three and a half -months simulated paroxysms of joy at seeing one another, with shrieks -and calls and kisses and much waggling hand-shaking--as the sex or the -innate histrionics of the participants impelled them. - -In the interval of music Tommy was introduced to the privates of the -stag-line, remembering mismated fragments of names, and receiving the -bone-crushing grip which is every youth’s obsession, until his own -shoulders sagged, and his throat became dry with repeating “How do you -do.” - -“I’d better introduce you to some girls, now,” Carl decided mercifully. - -A couple brushed past, engrossed in the intricacies of a new dance. The -girl caught Tommy’s interest. - -“Who’s that?” he asked. - -Carl laughed softly. “So soon?” he said. “That’s Millicent Grant, for -whom the party’s being given. She goes to Dobbs; as a relaxation, I -guess. Her real business is the Male; making men fall for her, dangle a -while, and then dropping them. Thinks she’s wasted on the small field -this town offers. Look out for her. She’s shallow as the deuce, but -hard to get away from.” - -“No danger,” said Tommy. “I didn’t appear so interested as to get all -this biography, I hope!” - -“You’ll hear it soon enough. She enjoys being the talk of the town; -local Barbara Neave, as it were. Come and meet her.” - -Followed by Tommy, Carl threaded his way through the dancers, stepped -with nonchalant expertness on the toes of a stag about to precede him, -and cut in. - -“Hello, Millicent! Come and be introduced to Tommy Squire, coming Big -Man at school, who does me the honor of being my roommate for the -exclusive right of wearing my ties.” - -Tommy smiled formally at his friend’s brilliance, made an inward -notation that he liked her eyes when she smiled, and acknowledged the -presentation. - -When Carl had removed himself, they danced. - -Then followed the conventional small-talk of two members of the -warring sexes when both are engaged in “making an impression”. They -both followed youth’s greatest diversion, staying in school the while -dodging its exactions and embracing its pleasures, and acquiring not -education, but the equally essential atmosphere. It developed that -he was a junior, she in the final year of finishing school; that he -played football, but had failed to win a letter (though he confessed -with pardonable pride having played eight minutes in a Big Game when -the first-string tackle had been carried off the field); that she -_adored_ football; that she likewise _adored_ a number of things; dogs -(but not the messy kind); fraternity pins, and Eastern men (this was -a pardonable error; she made flattering concessions to the Southern -variety, when Tommy found the opportunity to tell her where he came -from); that she _adored_--a great many more things. - -In short, they simply chattered, as a man and a girl have always -done, on first meeting. Later stages of acquaintanceship bring long -silences, either from undisguised boredom or an adolescent spiritual -understanding. Now, silence was a gaping hole in the garment of -etiquette, to be patched with endless talk. - -They were soon cut in on. - -Carl returned from the arduous task of dancing with his own sister -(a task only to her brother; she, too, held court), and found Tommy -marooned in the stag line. He introduced him to other girls, in whom -Tommy found varying charm. Carl’s sister, a mature child of seventeen, -wanted to know, “_Honestly_ now,” whether Carl drank at school. - -Tommy lied like a good roommate. He reflected philosophically on the -oddness of sisters who went out constantly with men who drank, and yet -expected total abstinence from their brothers. It was a reversal of -the older custom of brothers who demanded impeccable behavior of their -sisters; and yet-- - -Millicent passed. He cut-in. When they had danced half a dozen steps he -lost her to another stag. - -She was annoyed, and the pressure of her hand as they parted was a -little more than casual artifice. Millicent had early finished her -appraisal of the men at the party. She knew that she was destined to -meet most of them night after night for the next two weeks, and she -planned eventualities. She planned to have half a dozen affairs; the -holiday-loves, more evanescent even than summer-loves, that dwindled, -after the two weeks, from special-delivery letters into abrupt -silence. There would be one or two proposals, perhaps, in the last -days--there had been three, at the end of the summer at Minnetonka. -She catalogued the men, slowly: Eddie Pearson, nice enough--too nice, -insipid; Orme Waldon, whom no amount of snubbing would rebuff; Stewart -Holmes, whose egotism was such that he believed all girls secretly -longed for his attentions; and so on. These were the last three of the -summer’s garnerings. She wanted some one _new_. Tommy Squire. He seemed -worth thinking about. Rather wise--he’d need angling to draw in. Idly -she planned manoeuvres. - -Tommy cut-in again. She used the old effective artifice of asking him -to keep her tiny handkerchief and vanity-case in his pocket. When she -caught his eye, he was to understand that they were needed. Tommy -smiled to himself. He understood. - -But Millicent did not need to use her vanity-case very often. Tommy -kept on cutting-in. However, his manner was not gratifying. He was -pleasant, impersonal, quizzical. He told her that she was rather the -most attractive girl there--and added, thoughtfully, that there were -lots more beautiful girls, in Richmond. - -“You’re absolutely _rude_, Mr. Squire!” Millicent wanted to be placated. - -He drew her out, and with skillful questions, sped with occasional -compliments, he exposed her vanity. When she realized that, she -retaliated--they understood one another, distantly still, and far -beneath the surface of conversation. - -As he continued to cut in--alternating, rather from politeness, with -Carl’s sister Joan--the stags, in a tacit agreement, let him have her -more and more to himself. Joan did not like that. It was ahead of her -plans. - -At supper Millicent saw to it that they were paired together. Looking -distastefully at the noisy tables, where already the customary -table-jokes were under way--spoons being laid in rows so that a tap -on one sent another into a glass of water, and misappropriation of -the salt and pepper (Bardy Cless and Evelyn Preston leading on the -humorists), she feared that she might lose him there to Joan Twist. - -“Let’s go outside and have our supper in a car,” she suggested. -“There’s no room here.” - -Tommy, politely overlooking the numerous empty places, was entirely -willing. He got cake and sandwiches, and two plates with cups of coffee -and chicken patties, and together they sped across the street to a -parked limousine that stood almost in the shadow of the cathedral. - -He told her, in the course of the next few minutes, that she was -_quite_ as lovely as any girl in Richmond. The darkness, and -Millicent’s bare shoulder close against him, were effective. - -And he was pleasantly surprised when he found that she had no desire to -be kissed. - -“Why, I’ve only known you for two hours,” she said, dropping lightly -out of the car. “And besides, mother will be mad _again_ when she finds -that I’m not having supper at my own party. Last year Dick Cole and I -drove down to the chicken shack, and mother almost passed away when we -came back, eating drumsticks!” - -They both forgot the débris of their supper, but later, after the party -was over, a very angry matron discovered it when she sat in a plate of -chicken, on entering her car to go home. - -Long past midnight Millicent sat before her dressing table, thinking. -She took off the silver band around her hair, and with a brush began -to restore the fluffiness which the mode demands. A wisp which grew an -infinitesimal fraction of an inch longer, in front, than the rest she -critically snipped off with finger-nail scissors. She let her hands -rest on the table, and regarded her reflection. She was supremely -satisfied with what she saw; she always was. Her self-admiration -transcended egotism. It was impersonal. She was complacently certain -that she was the most beautiful girl in the city. The assurance of a -very few girls--and a very great number of men--was superfluous. Wilde -has said that love of oneself is a life-long romance: Millicent’s -was a passion! In the perfection of her features, a subtle coldness -of manner, a faint expression as of calculating, which her character -had betrayed into her eyes, was the nearest thing to a fault which -she could see. Such an expression must inevitably creep into the -expression of a girl who is the object of so much masculine attention -that she may--and perforce must--choose, and weigh, and reject, so -slighting the least attractive candidates. It was these who were most -aware of the expression--they remembered it vividly, in soothing their -disappointments. - -Millicent picked up a lip-stick, and toyed with it. She glanced up -at the top of her mirror. There she kept a curious record. Drawn on -the level of the glass with the lip-stick, were three small hearts. -A photograph almost hid them. They were initialed--E.P., O.W., S.H. -She picked up her handkerchief, and rubbed out the last one. She was -tired of Stewart--he would be dropped; in the cool, summary manner -which was the essence of Millicent. Eddie, and Orme Waldon would -remain. Eddie was always beneficial--he played up so well when she -wanted compliments. Orme had a car which she could command, with him or -without him; and that was very useful. - -When she had erased the last heart she drew a new one, larger and -apart; the photograph would completely hide it. She initialed it T.S., -and then she sat regarding it--he had been so pointedly disinterested! -Ah, but he would learn servility; others had, before him. - - * * * * * - -After a few days, the members of the general “crowd” had come to see -that through accident or design Tommy and Millicent were usually -together, when both were at any given place at the same time. There -were comments; some caustic, some foolish, some wise: Carl, for -instance, was irritatingly derisive. “I told you she’d take you in!” -he told Tommy; and when Tommy serenely denied any unusual interest, he -agreed, with the reservation--“That’s all right, for _now_, you sweet -idiot, but you don’t appreciate what Millicent can do, in ten days. -Just wait!” - -On Sunday afternoons a heterogeneous crowd was wont to drift over -to the Grants’, to piece together the gossip of the week. At -supper-time they regularly went through the ritual of expressing -formal astonishment at the lateness of the hour, and then reluctantly -accepting the expected invitation to stay and partake of a -buffet-supper. - -When Carl and Tommy arrived they found the usual assembly. For half the -afternoon Millicent ignored Tommy, simulating a deep interest in Eddie -Pearson’s stuttered and imperfect rendition of all the jokes in the -past week’s Orpheum bill. Eddie was one of those people who insist upon -showing you how excellently they can imitate the comedian.... - -Tommy, on the couch, was amiably quarreling with Barbara Peart over -the literary merits of modern literature. Barbara held serious and -decided views; Tommy didn’t care a damn either way; the subject bored -him so that it was an effort to be polite. Millicent finally extricated -herself from Eddie’s imperfectly remembered humor with scant courtesy, -and sat down beside Tommy. There was satisfaction in taking him away -from Barbara, anyway. Thereafter she directed the conversation--to -herself, inevitably. - -Tommy and Carl stayed on after the rest of the crowd had left. -Millicent arranged that. Carl at first refused to accept her hints -that he too might leave; but after they had sat in silence for ten -minutes, Millicent sulking, Tommy looking into the fire and thinking -about the hunting near Richmond, and Carl professing fascination in -the automobile pages of the Sunday paper, he relented, and rose to -go. Tommy, with elaborately concealed relief, rose to accompany him. -Then Millicent took command of the situation, and said, with superb -carelessness: - -“Well, drive back here and take Tommy home about eleven, because I -really must go to bed early to-night if I’m to go on that snow-shoe -trip to-morrow.” - -So Tommy stayed. The conversation was not animated. Millicent made poor -progress. Presently, when the conversation reached Millicent in its -usual course, she asked him whether he liked bobbed-hair. He did, on -certain girls. She obviously expected to be told that she was one; if -not the chief one. He told her so. - -The next step would be for him to stretch his arm along the back of the -couch, above her shoulders, and comment upon its fluffiness. Tommy took -his cue admirably. He stirred her hair with his fingers, and he did not -withdraw his arm. Millicent had drawn imperceptibly closer. The fire -in the grate had burned down to a drowsy glow, leaving the room in the -semi-darkness of late winter twilight. Now her head swayed toward him. -The moment was propitious. Tommy knew it. He had been cast as leading -man in just such a scene before. He knew that the next move was his.... - -And rather unexpectedly he made it. Very deliberately he got up, walked -over to the table, took up a cigarette and lit it. Neither of them -spoke. The silence was unnatural. A tension filled the air. There was -nothing to say. - -The sound of a horn on the driveway saved the situation. - -“That must be Carl,” Tommy said quickly. “Sounds as if he might be in a -hurry. Don’t get up; I’ll just grab my things in the hall. Good-night, -Millicent--awfully good time.” - -He went out, a little breathlessly, before she could speak or get up. - -Millicent was furious; furious at Tommy, who had snubbed her with -such ironic insolence; furious at herself, who had engineered her -own humiliation. The climax of her planning had come to ignominious -failure. Consuming anger filled her. For a moment she wondered whether -his manner would betray anything of the breach to the rest of the -crowd, on the snowshoe trip, the next day. Paul Lyle, in making up the -party, had paired them as a matter of course. Millicent knew what the -crowd was saying: and she would not be made ridiculous in their eyes, -now. Before Tommy went back to school he must propose, and the crowd -must know that he had. - -She repeated that, mentally. The words were like italics on a page. - - * * * * * - -There was no perceptible difference in their attitude the next morning. -The snowshoe trip to Paul Lyle’s cabin on the St. Croix River had been -abandoned, because a vagary of the thermometer had brought balmy winds -and a thaw, overnight. - -Tommy was relieved. The trip had been planned in his honor, and he had -had to feign a deep interest in Northern sports; actually he had had a -distinct premonition that he was due to make a general ass of himself -on snowshoes. - -It was decided that they should drive up to the cabin for dinner, -instead. They found the cabin mired in slush, and with a leaking roof, -but a crackling fire in the stone hearth, and the uncertain melodies -from a small phonograph which some one unearthed, put them all in high -spirits. When they had tired of dancing over the uneven floors they -constituted themselves into an exploring party, and wandered down to -the river and out on the soft ice. - -Presently, Providence took a hand. - -Millicent, who had run ahead of the rest, shrieked suddenly, balanced -wildly for an instant, and fell into an air-hole in the ice. - -It took but a very few moments to lift her out, and take her up to the -cabin, but in that period she had been seriously chilled from exposure -in the icy water. The men had done all that they could. Mary Skinner, -small and frail, took command. Millicent was put to bed, before the -hearth, bordering on the line of unconsciousness. A doctor was on the -way. They could only wait. - -Tommy was dazed. Millicent had suddenly became a great deal to him. The -play of excited emotion, suddenly released, will do that. He sat on the -steps, unmindful of his own damp clothes. Millicent’s light sweater was -in his hands. Why, he wondered inconsistently, out of all this crowd of -girls did it have to be Millicent who should be endangered? - -“Tommy’s taking it pretty hard, I guess,” some one said. “He thinks an -awful lot of Millicent.” - -And for the first time, he did. - - * * * * * - -When the doctor had come, and given Millicent a hypodermic, they -wrapped her carefully in rugs, and drove slowly back to town. - -She would have to stay in bed for a week or so, that was all, the -doctor said. - -Tommy’s first floral offering came the next morning, and in the course -of the following days he sent almost everything in the florist’s -stock, from corsage bouquets to funeral lilies. He came himself, and -stayed interminably, until Mr. Grant, ordinarily a mild-mannered and -ponderously humored man, observed with unwonted choler that “If that -young man comes any earlier, I shall have to give him my place at the -breakfast table!” His wife, who looked upon Tommy with that eye of -wisdom which mothers with marriageable daughters possess, was more -kindly disposed. Tommy, in the parlance of her sphere, was an excellent -“catch”. He might see Millicent as often as he liked. - -Millicent prolonged her stay in bed. She was aware that she made rather -a charming invalid, and throned in her bed she received a gratifying -court. - -The wise commenters became positive. - -“Millicent’s really in love, this time,” they said, “and their -engagement will be announced before Tommy goes back to school.” - -Tommy, the drawling and indifferent, had given way to Tommy, the -intense and devoted. Millicent was aware of her victory. - -The hearts with E.P. and O.W. had gone. Tommy’s, hidden by the -photograph, reigned alone. Perhaps, she thought idly, after they were -married she would have it cut into the glass. It was a pretty fancy. -She toyed with the idea, toyed with it as she did with everything in -her life; a languid, fickle amusement. - -The day before Tommy and Carl were to go back to school Millicent got -up. She was paler, and more ethereally beautiful, she decided, with -characteristic candor. The sweet peas which he had sent that morning -looked rather well on her. - -She wondered, as she pinned them on, whether he would propose to-day or -wait until the last. - -He was nervous; a little haggard, too, she noticed, when he came, and -she knew that he would propose to-day. Her triumph was at hand, but -suddenly she knew that she wanted more time to think. She must make him -wait until to-morrow. - -They were on the couch again. He kissed her, and in the moment that -their lips touched it came to her that Tommy was realty infatuated--but -in another moment the old doubt had returned, and when he said: - -“Millicent, dear, I’ve only known you--” she stopped him, with a -breathless flutter, and said, “To-morrow, Tommy, to-morrow afternoon; I -_can’t_ tell you to-day!”... And she ran out of the room. - -Millicent did not appear at supper. She was locked in her room, her -head buried in her arms on the dressing-table, thinking; half crying. -It was the only crisis which had ever come into her life. Always before -she had left this to the man; her own way had continued serenely -untroubled. Once, in a fit of fancy, she reached up as if to erase the -heart, but she did not complete the gesture. - -The next morning dragged slowly by. - -After lunch Millicent went to her desk, and in a fit of caprice wrote -a letter. She read it, and started to tear it up. Then she changed her -mind, and left it, sealed, on her desk. It was a quarter past two. -Tommy ought to arrive very soon. - -She walked over to the pier-glass in the hall. Dispassionately she -admired her beauty. She thought that she had never seen anyone so -lovely. Others might be merely beautiful, hers was distinctive. Beauty -was a power in itself; and when coupled with intellect--the power it -might wield was infinite. Great beauties had made history--many of them -had had humbler beginnings, by far, than she. She felt in that moment -that she too might have been destined to rule.... French novels had -taught her these things--and had failed to instil a sense of personal -absurdity. - -Egotism was her greatest fault; she looked upon it as her highest -virtue. - -Her thought came back to Tommy. No man had ever been so much in love -with her as he was. And he represented so many desirable things. He was -appealingly good looking. He was wealthy in his own right, Carl had -told her. Life with him would be tranquil and luxurious.... It might -grow dull. - - * * * * * - -She heard him on the walk. She stood there, frozen, as he came up the -steps. He rang the bell, and in that instant decision came. The maid -was coming through to open the door. Millicent snatched the sealed -letter from her desk, and handed it to her. - -“Give this to Mr. Squire,” she said, and while the maid gazed stupidly -at her, she laughed, half hysterically, and ran up the stairs. - -In her room she heard Tommy come in, heard the murmur of the maid’s -voice, and then, after a pause longer than she had ever endured, she -heard the door close upon him. She waited until she could not hear his -footsteps longer--then she walked over to the mirror, and rubbed out -the heart. - - C. G. POORE. - - - - -_Book Reviews_ - - -_Jean Huguenot._ By STEPHEN VINCENT BENÉT. (Henry Holt.) - -Flowers in writing are like flowers on a grave: they commemorate death. -And Benét’s first novel was a little too prone to floral decoration. In -his third book, _Jean Huguenot_, his work as a stylist is noticeably -improved. He still remains all poet in his prose, and, as ever, reads -the better for it. Yet he has reached a saner manner of writing that -does not overwhelm and cloy as did parts of _The Beginning of Wisdom_. - -Despite mechanical improvement _Jean Huguenot_ marks a lull in the -author’s literary progress. You are moved along for two hundred or so -pages by glowing language and well-drawn situations. And just when -the book has become really enjoyable--well, all pleasure in it begins -to subside. You are dropped, like a deflated balloon, into a flat and -tasteless completion. Why, oh, why, you say, couldn’t he have given us -something else--anything else? The spectacle of Jean Huguenot Ashley -turned _cocotte_ is neither appealing nor revolting; it is just plain -drab. Perhaps Benét is true to nature in his picture, but--read it and -see if it doesn’t affect you in the same fashion. The story is worth -while for three-quarters of its course--and then, being so near the -end, one might as well finish it, anyway. - - J. R. C. - - -_The Florentine Dagger._ By BEN HECHT. (Boni & Liveright.) - -Ben Hecht is mountebank of words par excellence: their swirling shapes, -their sounds, their shifting colors, as he juggles them so adroitly -before our bewildered eyes. The subject-matter of his books serves only -as a pattern, an excuse for weaving a tapestry of fascinating and often -amazing phrases. Whether it is a psychological study in the manner of -Dreiser, like Gargoyles, or an all-night detective story, like the -present book, is an altogether incidental matter. It is the words that -count. That may perhaps explain why Mr. Hecht should suddenly decide to -perform before such a bourgeois audience, descending, so to speak, from -the Palace to the four-a-day. He evidently realized that the world was -quite bored by anything he had to say, but perfectly entranced by the -way in which he said it. - -_The Florentine Dagger_ was written with Prof. Hart’s Psychology of -Insanity on one hand and the Memoirs of the de Medici Family on the -other. Taken as a dramatic presentation of certain psychological -phenomena it is brilliant enough to make itself endeared by every -psychology professor in the country. Everyone in the book, from the -last member of the fastidious de Medicis to the old actress, is -troubled by complexes and obsessions of all sorts, so that a miserable -and uncertain rôle is assigned to each. All the time-dishonored devices -of the mystery story are faithfully observed, although its technique on -the whole is genuinely successful. - -Mr. Hecht has in this book, as in all his others, displayed his -incredible faculty for choosing a new literary technique as casually as -most writers choose their stationery. - - W. T. - - -_The Blind Bow Boy._ By CARL VAN VECHTEN. (Alfred Knopf.) - -Carl Van Vechten is an elegant dilettante. His books are the essence of -trivial and charming existence. He is fond of cats, George Moore, Rolls -Royce motor cars, and cravats by Charvet. He is apathetic to Corot and -Monet, to Ibsenism, midwestern mediocrity, and synthetic gin. - -_The Blind Bow Boy_ is of inferior quality to _Peter Whiffle_, just as -_Peter Whiffle_ is undoubtedly inferior to _Memoirs of My Dead Life_, -but it is good reading and by far the most intelligent intellectual -mixed grill of which the reviewer has partaken this season. - -The fact that Van Vechten is in the good graces of the greatest of all -American whim-whammers, Henry Mencken, is in itself a warrant for the -six editions into which the book has already run. It may also prevent -it from running into another six. - -_The Blind Bow Boy_ is the story of a summer opera season in New York, -an international alliance in the person of Zimbule O’Grady, and the -delightful exploits of the Duke of Middlebottom, who lived by the -Julian Calendar and in this case “contrived to evade all unsatisfactory -engagements, especially if they were complicated in any way by -daylight-saving time, an American refinement of which he was utterly -ignorant”. There are also some trivial protagonists who strut through -the book in a manner slightly suggestive of exaggerated and overdressed -Weiner sausages. - -The author has an unfortunate habit of becoming enamoured of one -character for a chapter or two, and then without warning shifting his -affections to another, a failing which gives the reader a somewhat -biographically errant point of view. - -It is also unfortunate that Van Vechten cannot follow a more clearly -defined theme, for he has no sense of plot, shading, or climax. His -stories are a series of photographically vivid scenes, innocent of -all structural liaison, and hanging together only by virtue of the -bookbinding which keeps them from fluttering away to the various -literary hemispheres. - -It is, however, very satisfactory reading, for in his multiplex -catalogues of names and places the author gives the reader a vivid -sense of personal familiarity which is quite flattering. No doubt -this effect is obtained by mentioning so many aspects of contemporary -civilization that everyone must needs have come in contact with at -least some few of them. - - L. M. B. - - -_A Son at the Front._ By EDITH WHARTON. (Charles Scribner’s Sons.) - -As the most and vagueness surrounding the late war are slowly cleared -away by passing time and subsiding emotions, and the conflict settles -into a semblance of perspective, the more recent books that deal -with it show an increasing grasp of its essentials, and a higher -understanding of its trials and lessons. Where once were only trees, -we can see a forest now, whose outlines are becoming more distinct as -the shock of the cataclysm becomes a memory. It is past, now, and -irrevocable, open to description or interpretation. - -Speaking sincerely from the depth of her own experience, Edith Wharton -here gives us a faithful picture; not of the mechanics of the war, but -of general and specific reactions to it. Paris is the setting almost -throughout the narrative, that of an American painter whose son, born -in France, is drawn by the logic of his instincts and sympathies into -the struggle. The scenes and events of the war, its growing tragedy and -sternness, and their gradual effect on John Campton, are recorded with -an insight and understanding that fascinate, while their subject-matter -grips. The author shows a keen grasp of small details, as well as -of large issues and their significance. Her style is delightful--a -silver rapier that here waves benignly, and there strikes humorously -or satirically, with great precision. Several delicate threads of -narrative underlie and emphasize the main theme--Campton’s art, Paris -visibly changing, and the younger Campton’s love affair. The story -never falters as it traces out that “huge mysterious design which -was slowly curving a new heaven over a new earth”. The author, in -that design, points us to a philosophy of the war, a personal moral, -comprehending its soul. - -Our growing literary heritage from the World War contains few -contributions more authentic or more inspiring than “A Son at the -Front”. - - R. P. C., JR. - - -_The Dove’s Nest._ By KATHERINE MANSFIELD. (Boni & Liveright.) - -Here are stories that are literature: they move us by the presence -of the genuine elements of literature, and not by the elements of -painting, music, or any other art. Their language is neither colorful -nor melodious, but it is significantly expressive, related inextricably -to the subject matter. They help make the short story as distinct a -literary form as a landscape by Cezanne or a sonata by Beethoven. -Katherine Mansfield, scarcely a year after her death, has come to be -regarded as one of the most finished artists that ever worked with the -short story as their medium. - -The present collection includes several unfinished fragments which are -invaluable to anyone interested in her art or in the short story as a -whole. They are cross-sections of her method which enable us to see -the processes that produce the half-dozen little masterpieces at the -beginning of the book. - -“The Doll’s House” is at once the best and the most typical of all -the stories she has written. It shows us in an unforgetable manner -her complete mastery of the difficult trick of epitomizing the whole -of life in a minute and almost ridiculously petty episode. All the -aspirations of the many, all the heartless prejudice of the few, are -concentrated in a toy lamp in one of the little rooms of a doll’s -house. It might easily be sentimental, and very likely ridiculous, if -it were not for the implacable aloofness of her art. Again, in “A Cup -of Tea” we have a bitter, though inoffensive, exhibition of the quality -of mercy by somewhat the same whimsical concentration on little things. -A lady of high degree is accosted on Bond Street by another lady of -lesser degree who requests the price of a cup of tea. The first lady, -thinking it would be a charming adventure, takes the pathetic creature -into her own home for her cup of tea. She is impressed by her own -magnanimity, even considers doing something more worthwhile for the -stranger, when the great lady’s husband appears. Because the latter -ventured the remark that the visitor is really quite pretty, because -the great lady suddenly detects the shadow of age on her face as she -passes the mirror, the visitor is forthwith despatched with a few -shillings, and the great lady asks her husband that evening, “Do you -think I’m pretty?” - -All the stories of Katherine Mansfield are more or less like that, -displaying the difficult accomplishment of a worker in miniature, and, -like the art of the miniature, possessing a rare and almost forgotten -spirit. - - W. T. - - -_The Lyric._ By JOHN DRINKWATER. (Martin Secker.) - -None of the “sound and fury” of modern literary theories (signifying -nothing?), and little that is arresting is to be found in this essay on -the lyric; its argument has a stately conservatism with enough that is -fresh and new to make the whole of interest. - -Drinkwater pins much faith on Coleridge’s definition of poetry: -“poetry--the best words in the best order”. After declaring this to -be the one and only true definition, later in the text he admits that -there can be no proper definition of poetry, since so much depends -on the individuality of the poet. So perhaps we can forgive him the -contradiction on the score that he relieves us of the necessity of -having our ideals of poetry destroyed forever. - -The author advances an interesting theory of poetic “energies”, the -forces that cause the creation of verse. He classifies these into -several types that cast a new light on the whys and wherefores of -poetry. The lyric itself is well defined. Perhaps the most interesting -passage is his clever answer to the accusations against form made by -the sponsors of free-verse. Their own lack of form, however, he treats -not with diatribe, but interested tolerance. - - A. M. - - -_Within These Walls._ By RUPERT HUGHES. (Harper & Bros.) - -It is the natural tendency of every generation to consider much -less vivid and wicked those that have come before. We still hear of -the “old-fashioned” mothers in sentimental appreciation or pity--as -contrasted with the obstreperous rising generation. - -In this light, it is interesting to read Mr. Hughes’ novel, which has -as an obtrusive background the very vital and naughty New York of -1825-1875. With a slight hesitation for touches that obviously cater to -our surprise, we would class the bulk of this background as authentic. -It is the main theme of the book. A restless melodramatic movement of -indifferently drawn characters across this setting gives the author -his excuse for it. The action is too stereotyped in its thrill to be -in itself worth while, and it is given the reader as substitute for an -ability to define the characters into lasting silhouettes. Mr. Hughes’s -_forte_ is a running-fire, rat-tat-tat description of stirring events -(as the great fire of 1837) which never fails to work one up, and is -thus highly effective. - -However, the author does hew to the line of his purpose, and gives us -an interesting (however faithful) picture of the growing New York, -and its groping fight for an adequate water supply. Daniel Webster -enters in two places--once as toper, once as orator--with doubtful -appropriateness. - -One does not for the most part feel in sympathy with the book. - - R. P. C., JR. - - -_The Powder of Sympathy._ By CHRISTOPHER MORLEY. - -_The Powder of Sympathy_ is a collection of whimsical, verbal morsels, -colyumistic in length, but not for the most part in character. -Discourse upon the shortcomings of the Long Island Railroad, or upon -the vicissitudes of mongrel dogs in pedigreed kennels no doubt is -admirable colyum copy; but Mr. Morley has included in his latest book -an equal quantity of semi-serious discussion about books and about -authors. We can think of no one who can impart to the reader his -own genuine enthusiasm for good books so well as Sir Kenelm Digby’s -publicity agent. (Incidentally, we consider Mr. Morley’s observations -on Sir Digby’s character, habits, and work as the most titillating -particle of sympathetic powder to be found in the whole book.) - -It is a book for every mood. If you feel the need of a laugh, pick up -this salmon-colored work and choose at random from the forty odd titles -that speak for themselves. If you are beginning to wonder whether you -will ever again find prose that will thrill you with its bold and -powerful use of the strong red roots of our English vocabulary, read -“Santayana in the Subway”. If you still have a morbid interest in the -higher side of the culinary art known as distillation, you will find -enlightening Sir Kenelm’s directions for making “ale drink quick and -stronger”. In any case once you open this book you will forget where -the blues begin. - - M. T. - - - - -_Editor’s Table_ - - -One by one the Editors appeared, grim with the prospect of renewed -and unremittent editing. It was hours before Cherrywold, the verbal -Valentine, could sufficiently cast off the burden of his perpetually -broken heart to enter the conversation, but the others gradually warmed -to the task of post-vacation badinage. - -“How were the girls at Grosse Pointe Village?” inquired Han -solicitously of the pagan Rabnon. - -“How was _the_ girl, you mean!” chirped Aerial. “Why, along in August -he telegraphed me, ‘A girl has been seen in Grosse Pointe Village. What -shall I do?’” - -“What did he dew?” inquired the scandal-seeking Mrs. Stephens. - -“Don’t know,” said Aerial. “I telegraphed back, ‘Compromise’, and let -it go at that!” - -“How shiffless!” cried Mrs. Stephens. And at the same moment the deep -base roar of Mr. Stephens was heard calling for water, for she had -fainted from the shock of Aerial’s remark, being a perfect lady. - -“Why pick on me?” countered Rabnon, when the excitement had subsided. -“The girls of Grosse Pointe Village are all right. One of them -entertained me this summer with an account of how an empty taxi-cab -once rolled up to Dobbs Ferry, and Cherrywold got out. You can’t beat -that for a masterly bit of description!” - -Thus roused from thoughts of “all for love and love for all”, the -slandered Cherrywold girded himself against the powers of cynicism. - -“You are a pack of blasphemous cowards all!” he cried. “It has been -alleged that Mr. and Mrs. Stephens are the only people in the world who -still believe in fairies, and that Jonah was swallowed by the whale, -but I believe--” - -“‘What troubles you, my little one? The dawn is far away,’” soothed -Han. But, refusing to be calmed by a snatch of one of his own -lullabies, Cherrywold was only prevented from assaulting his Oriental -acquaintance by main force. - -“You! You c-can’t SPELL!” he thundered. And the office crashed in ruins. - - * * * * * - -“That’s what they all say--when they can’t think of anything else. And -so say I--when I can’t think of anything else,” remarked - - HAN. - - * * * * * - - - - Transcriber’s note - - Retained archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings as printed. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE YALE LITERARY MAGAZINE -(VOL. LXXXIX, NO. 1, 1923) *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the -Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work -on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the -phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where - you are located before using this eBook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg™ License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format -other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain -Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -provided that: - -• You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation.” - -• You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ - works. - -• You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -• You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right -of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you “AS-IS”, WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™ - -Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™'s -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without -widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. |