The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, August 3, 1902, Page 12

THE SUNDAY CALL = —aagy TR /'l — ) - CONDUCTED BY B. G. LATHROP NE of the best books of keen humor that we have had before us for many a day is Barry Pain’s latest effort, entitied “The One Before,” and published by Charles Scrib- per's Sons, New York. Mr. Pain’s present writing combines spontaneous fun with the thread of a good story running through to add double interest. “The One Before” is reminiscent of Anstey in its bumorous treatment of the occult, and the flavor of mysterious persons hunting for the ring whose magic powers form the motif of the story is slightly suggestive of the hunt for the moonstone in the novel of that name by Wilkie Collins. Do not let this statement be misunderstood to mean that Mr. Pain is in any sense a copvist, for aside from this slight resemblance the work is in every way original and highly entertaining. Mr. Ernest Saunders Barley, who occu- pies the leading role for the first part of the book, is a most exasperatingly deli- cious character. He is the kind of man who dabbles; he does wood carving and makes impossible fretwork paper knives for his suffering friends, a man who af- fects botany mainly because it affords him &n opportunity to paste his subjects with neatly typewritten labels, and who takes a delight in interfering with all household matters. A glimpse of him at work will serve as a photograph of Mr. Barley in his role of an economist and will also intro- duce the reader to two quite unique and delightful characters, the Misses Jane and Elien: One morning August he stood in his g through the window the below. He was a thin end narrow-chested man of medium height He bad rather scanty fair bair, a distrustfui eve, a prolonged and pointed nose, a thin- lipped and peevish mouth and somewhat prom- inent ears. He was clean shaven, and his light flannel sult seemed out of tune with the wearer. Below on a seat in the garden he could see his young guest, James Havern, Jumes was smoking cigarettes and reading the morning papers, as if there were nothing else to 40 in the world. Barley turned back to his room and prepared for @ Strenucus morning As he was taking his coat off one of the things thet he had meant to remember flashed across his mind. At the same time he recognized a step in the passage outside. He opened the door and said, in & special low vibrant voice, whieh he reserved for servants: “Jane.” Jane @id not hear him. He @id not raise the note, but he increased its length and volume—— “Jaa-a-ane!” She heerd, and turned back at once—a tall sirl, good-looking, with the impress of im- maculste respectability and respectfulness all over her. “Yes, sir,”" she said. Her air of pleased Geterence was alome worth more then her wages. “Bvery morning, Jane, a certain amount of —er—chips and small pleces of wood are re- moved from the dust-cloth under the table where I 8o my carving. I wish to kinow what becomes of them. What s done with them?” ] cannot say et all, sir. It is Ellen who @oss this room. Shall I inguire, sir?” Ready Qelight in meeting the slightest wish of E. 5. Bariey seemed to radiate from her face. “Do ®o," said Mr. Barley, tersely, as he sobed bimself in & white apron, preparatory to work. When Jane got downstairs the air of plessed Gaterence wore thin, and the natural girl shone through. Servants do not always call one another by their official names, and Jane ad- dressed Ellen as Maudle. “Maudte, desr, that silly old devil wants to Xnow what you do with the little bits of wood from his room when you do it In the morn- ing’ “Sew ‘em up In a bag and wear ‘em next me ‘eart. Tell him 0, with my love.” “Oh, Maudie, you are! Do cheese it. waiting to know. Truth he is.” “What's he think I do with ‘em? Is he afraid I eat ‘em? I throw 'em away with the other rubbish, and I wish I could throw him on the top. Tell him that instead.” “Right. Now I will. You see if I don't, Now, you've done for yourself, my girl.” El- Jen received this assurance with incredulous lsughter. When Jape reached the workroom the mes- sage 25 actuslly delivered, with an air of some conoern, ran as follows: “So far, sir, it seems that the chips have been thrown aw Eilen is very sorry if that was wrong, but she had no special orders about them.” “I thought as much 14 Mr. Barley, with marked restraint. “For the wood I use for my carving I pay from fourpence to a shiliing & foot. You understand? From fourpence to & shilling per foot. For bundles of firewood In the winter I pay—1I forget the exact sum, but S mounts up. This must not go on. It Is wastetul. In future Ellen must get a large cardbosrd box and save these—er—chips. They will be useful for lighting the fire with In the winter.” “Very useful, He's indeed, sir,”” ‘sald Jane, with conviction. “I am sorry we didn’t think of it before. 1 will’tell Ellen at once, ‘sir.”” And this was the way she told Ellen: I say, Maudle, here's the latest. You're to keep his “oly blessed chips and use ‘em for the “Wh; certainly.” said Ellen-Maudie, iron- scally. “I suppose he didn’t 'appen to men- tion what we're to do with the orange-peel and the nutshells?" “Slipped his memory,” said Jane “Pity, 100. They'd do to trim a ‘at.”” And there was another burst of ironical laughter. But it not given to Ernest Saunders Barley hims:If as others saw him , unfortunately for her, has a charming wife, Mary, who is meek- ness and devotion itself. She accepts him with all the halo of greatness that he has seen fit to cast about hims At the be- ginning of the Jimmy Havern, Mary’s relative, is paying a visit at the Barley house and Mary is enjoying a slight breath of freedom from the Barley greatness in the company of James and a 800d game of tennis. Barley is annoyed. Barley is always annoyed exceedingly when he sees people enjoying themselves, s¢ Be leaves his work to act the host and mar where he cannot make the fun. His advent on the tennis court is distinctly Barley in flavor: They asked Mr. Barley if he wouldn't play. Mr. Barley's tennis was of & childish pat-a- . order, and they accepted his refusal with equantmity. “No, thanks’' he said. “T've got rather tired of it. 1 like to strike out a new line now and again. Now, did you ever try this?’ He swung his skipping-rope carelessly. ‘Don’t know,” sald Jimmy. “Expect I did when T was tn the nursery.” ‘ery much the answer I expected, James. Now, when people laugh at skipping, I gen- erally say, ‘Yes, but can you mkip? There's a good deal in it. Apart from plain skipping, there are the variations. It is a grand exer- cise. 1 generally take a few minutes of It in my dressing-gown before my bath in the morn- ing.” Jemes very properly suppressed a desire to ask if he couldn’t have a photograph. “And,” Mr. Barley continued, “it takes some little skill, especially when you come to the variations. I dom’t profess to be anything much at it myself. What do You say? Shall we try a little competition I don’t mind, just for the fun of it. Mary Wil you start, ‘T've tried it. I'm no good. You begin.'” At his tenth skip James broke down. Mr. Barley, who had been counting, was delighted. “Ah! You see theré is a little art required for it, after all. Of course, what is essenti is a perfect co-ordination of the eye and hand. 1 will show you where you are wrong, after- ward. In the meantime, I have to beat ten.” He began to skip with great solemnity and precision. At his eighth ekip James suddenly screamed out ok behind you!" Mr. Barley was startied, the rope, and nearly came over. much amused. “My win! tion?" Mr. Barley glared at him in silence for a moment, and then huried the skipping-rope from him and strode rapidly in the direction of the house. The storm had burst. Jimmy gave the low whistle which indicates surprise. “‘Sorry 1 annoyed him,” he said. “It hadn’t occurred to me that a grown man coulé lose his temper over a skipping-rope “I don't think he’s lost his temper,” said Mary, mendaciously. I think he just hap- pened to think of something suddenly.” “Yes,” sald Jim, dryly: “he thought of something all right. I'm giad he had the deli- cacy not to say it. I hope for your sake it won't last long."” It is only Mary's serene good nature that keeps her from seeing herseif in the light of a downtrodden matron. Let us have one more example of the Barley do- mestic economy and methods of system: “And now,” sald Mr. Barley, when his guest had gone,- I will thank you to come and see the way In which the so-called polishing of my brown boots is being conducted at present.”” “All right, Ernest’’ sald Marz, “I'm sorry if they aren’t right.” ““Nothing is likely to be right where the servants have no proper supervision. Another thing: for the cecond time this week I've found your storeroom unlocked. I will not have it. It seems to me that you think about nothing but this stupld tennis. That's not all. On going into the storeroom, I found no labels on two of the tins. If there's one thing I hate it's disorder. There's no excuse for it I am always ready and willing to type neatly for you any label that you may require. You have only to affix them. Apparently, even that i too muéh trouble. I don't wish to epeak sharply, but—well, there are some thiugs that must not be.”” “Of course, I'm sorry. They had reached the house. ‘‘Now, pleave 80 to the storeroom at once and ascertain what the contents of those two tins are. Then come up to my workroom and I will type the labels for you. He went upstairs, took the cover off his typewriter, put in a sheet of paper, drew up his chair and sat down. Mary entered. caught his foot in James was What price perfect co-ordina- meekly. “I'm ready. What Is in the firét tin?" he asked. “It's empty. They're both empty.” Mr. Barley replaced the cover on his typewriter with some violence. After introducing us to the petty domes- tic tyrannies of the fussy Barley and hav- ing our sympathies for the docile Mary well in hend, Mr. Pain soon un- folds his plot; one unique in character and promising fullness of entertainment for the reader. It is now that Mr. Nathaniel Brookes appears on the scene. Brookes is the uncle of young James Havern, a club man, man-of the world, and one not standing well in the books of Ernest Saun- dersiBarley Esq. He hears with sympa- thy his nephew’s vivid account of the un- pleasant position of Mary and the petty doings of the festive Barley and the idea comes to him to try the virtues of “Tha One Before.” . “The One Before” is a re- markable ring that he has picked up in India; a ring that has the weird property of changing its wearer's character to one similar to that of the person who last wore the ring. The ring is forwarded to the -Barley mansion with the intention that it shall grace the finger of Mr. Barley himself in the hope that a speedy reformation will ersue. Mr., Brookes cannot, just at this moment, recall who was the former wearer of the curio: but he i$ sure that, no mautter who it was, and notwithstand- ing with how bad a character he might raturally have been endowed, any change whatsoever in the Barley disposition would be a godsend to the husband- pecked Mary. Fate decrees that Mr. Bar- ley refuses to wear the ring, but he does consent that it may adorn the finger of his wife. Later the secret of the identity of the former wearer returns to the memory of the forgetful Brookes, and he remembers that it was a lion tamer who last wore the Indian magic token. With the glimpse as given above of the character of Mr. Bar- ley and of the submissiveness of his wife it may be well imagined what good read- ing an author of Mr. Pain's cleverness can make out of the sudden transforma- tion of the kindly disposition of Mary to that of the lion tamer; especially when we are told that the lion tamer had been quite expert and successful in his busi- ness. Aside from this humorous transforma- tion development. Mr. Pain adds excite- ment to his story by starting the emissa- ries of the original Indian owners of the precious ring on a close hunt for the token, 0Old Carcow, the Hebrew curio dealer who sees a reward of five thousand pounds in the possible recovery of this Indian sacred token, gives Mr. Brookes a very narrow call for the right of posses- sion; in fact, he is only -thwarted by the magic power of the ring itself. Loow, \T -FITS » THIS FINGER - EXACTLY - e There are some half dozen characters besides the principals that fizure. impori- antly in the story, and 2ll of them show the master hand of the author in their portrayal. Pain adds enough compli- cations to his plot to grace a good detect- tve story and hold the reader's attention In breathless suspense; but it is in the kcen humor permeating all the pages wherein the author is at his best. “““The one of the ar. One Before” is undoubted! best books of its kind of the y Songs of the Press. Through his *“Songs of the Press” Balley Millard comes to add his name to the list of California poets who have. written something really worth while. Mr. Miilard has long been prominently known in the Western world of journalism and also as a magazine writer, and one who has to his eredit many a short story of more than passing merit. That he has turned from prose to woo the fickle god- dess of poesy will come as a surprise to many. His “Newspaper Ballads,” eight tn num- ber, that form the first part of the pres- ent book, are something new in the fleld of verse, and from the pen of one so well posted in matters journalistic naturally possess an air of verity that cannot fail to be- attractive and of interest to the great mass who know nothing of ne paper life and doings except, possibly, through the ‘stage reporter’”’—an alto- gether false creation as he at present reigns on the histrionic boards. Here is one of the best of these: THE LITERATURE OF THE RUSHED. How do the journalists zrind their grist? Learn, sir, from the lay of an optimist Scuttering on the train, Crowded and vulgar and hot, Jostled at elbow and back, Writing “'soefety’” rot. Scratching a pad on your knee, With pencllings jazged and rough; Interrupted by telegrams three: “Why the blank don’t you rush stuff?" in your Or, perhaps, you sit down at the side Of the crude rustic telegraph plug Who wires off your screed while you scrawl, And by his fool questions are dug: “That word ‘cut'? Why, I thought it was ‘cat’ That ‘Johnson’? Looks like it was ‘Jones.’ Guess you never learned how to writs And 50 on, in spite of"your groans. Or. crushed In a stale, stufty hall, Where you write down the speech of & aznce, While flarked by a hundred old hens, Eighteen of them cackiing at once: And even if it take all the floor, ‘While the chaigwoman screams like a hawk, Still, still you must follow the trend, Though the trend be a tangie of talk. And when you sit down at your desk To write up a long Interview, On one side the typewriter clicks And your poor head is dictated through By the great star who never can write, But bawls In a regular flow, And yeu grind while they click and they clack, ‘Whether you love it or no. Or, grabbing each sheet while you write, A boy takes it up to the room Of the night man whose job is to feed The great typographical loom. As you scrawl, thundeis break up above; Their roarings your tired ears rend, % your fingers you ery, “How the deuce did that last sentence end’*? Wise men read the paper and say, “He split bis infinitive there, And the wrong tense he used Such rhetorie—isn’t it queer’”? It ought to be perfect, of course, And never by any chance mushed— this place. Smooth of phrase, clear of thought and well- turned— g This literature of the rushed. But it is in his appreciation of nature that Mr. Millard best expresses himself and sinks the personality of the scholar in true poetic enthusiasm. Here is one that comes from the heart and that sings a song ringing with a golden chime: A RHAPSODY OF THE RAIN. Wind-swept, rain-spattered, wildly free, I tread the upward trail, wet tree-arms beck- oning me. Again I see in Nature what is mine; 1 feel the friendship of the kindly pine, And, passing, lay my hand on its molst dress In soft caress. Now all the savage in me gloats, For on a humid air-wave floats The thrumming of the forest lyre! Higher I mount and higher, Singing a Dryad's storm-wild strain In the mad rapture of the rain! A fugue of echoes upward sweeps, Making strange music on the steeps. As each bold, high-swung turn I pass along, 1 feel a rarer joy of life and hear a sweeter song. The soft rain drips from God's high eaves And lisps its true love to the leaves. (But truer far my love s For her above!) % Oh, what to me their creeds and cults ‘While on these sacred heights my soul exults? What all their sordid gain? T know the rapture of the rain! The ridge I reach—a sight— The sea spread out in swirling light! And up the wooded reach Come roarings from the beach. But only misty welcome signals me From yon cold shimmer of the sea. No, not for that I dared the storm, But for a greeting sure and warm From one who waits alone— My own—my own! Ah, there I sce her low brown roof at last! Heart, heart of mine, why throb so fast? A gust sweeps down the rippling drops amain, Again the rapture of the r: The volume closes with five songs in the dignified measure of the sonnet. One of these, in praise of the great Thoreau, is especially fine: Lycurgus of the pen, austere and dread! You made a stern demand upon our age, drowning of his little son Johnny; the un- exampled bravery cnd heroism of the hero, who with the aid of a girl and dug steers the York after her desertion by her crew into latitudes where she mects with a British man-of-war and is freshly manned, have all been gone over in former works of Russell. Aside froma the Improbability of the story, and for which the auther repeatedly apologiz: the narrative at times becomes inexpressi bly tedious. Russell is not at his best in this, his latest work, and it will not add to his fame. It lacks the salt water flavor which renders the perusal of his earlier ‘works so delightfully refreshing. Many of the incidents are far-fetched and mot properly handled. The style is jerky, the language ar times disconnected like the ravings of a madman. Here and there are bits of flne description, but taken as a whole “The Mate of the Good Ship York™” is a bitter disappointment. It is published by L. C. Page & Co., Boston. Price $1 25. Rataplan. Books that help us to a more intimate acquaintance with the habits, traits, and caaracteristics of animals are 'y wel- come. ‘The latest addition to this litera- ture is a volume of spirited and well-told stories from the pen of Ellen Velvin, a writer of many successful books for chil- dren, a magazinist of acknowledged abil- ity, and a Fellow of the Zoological So- clety. - (London.) She is already known to the American public by her popular series of animal stories now running in the New York Herald, entitled *“Wild Creatures Afield—Nature Studies of For- est Folk.” “Rataplan, Rogue Elephant, and Other Stories” is a book of merit. Rata- plan, himself, wicked and crafty, roman- tic “Gean the Giraffe;” sly and tricky “Jinks the Jackal,” whose natural tenden- cles could not be overcome by kindness; “Keesa, the Adventurous Kangaroo stately *“‘Osra, the Ostrich”; ‘“Mona, the Unlucky Monkey,” all the way down the list, these touch the springs of the reader’s sympatiies, as their traits, good and evil alike, as judged by human stand- ards, are portrayed with force and vivid- ness. Nor shall we yet escape you. On your page, That children make grave blunders in | MMusirations Erom Barry Pain’s Ecck, “The One Refere.” (Copyright, 1902, by Charles Scribner’s Sons.) N e “Taxe - Tas - Away CLEAN - PLATE - Which tempts to high adventure, we have read Most vivid, valiant truths that might have led From paths profane, if we, like you, O, sage, Had seen the way. But in this desperate stage We darkly tofl for bread and more than bread. You speak to our condition and provoke Heart-hunger and.a longing for the iree Exchange of all our false tles for the true. A voice! It was your stalwart spirit spoke: ‘Oh, why not venture all for liberty?" Great soul, a braver race must answer you! “‘Songs of the Press” is published in very handsome form by Elder & Shepard of San Francisco. The Latc Returning. “The Late Returning,” a novel by Miss Margery Williams and published by The Macmillan Company, is a disappointment. The writer has tried to imitate the style nsed by Stephen Crane in “The Red Badge of Courage” and has failed lament- obly. Miss Willlams leaves too much to the reader’s imagination. Apparently the story is based on happenings in a South American city. Reading it, you ask why it was written. It certainiy is lacking in interest. One reads it to try and make out what the writer is trying to narrate, and when the book is put down it Is with a sigh of relief. The volume might have been more interesting if the author had gone into further details. She certainly possesses ability, but has not put it to good use in “The Late Returning.” She has entered a fleld where Richard Hard- ing Davis Is at home. Revolutions and the characters that revolve round them are always interesting, but Miss Williams fails to draw them satisfactorily. The book is lacking in description, which is somiewhat of a novelty. Miss Willlams has written her latest novel in short, pithy sentences. and in her effort to at- tain a crisp dialogue fails to satisfy the reader with her story. Mate of the Good Ship York. In “The Mate of the Good Ship York” W. Clark Russell has demonstrated that he is trading upon the reputation which his ‘““Wreck of the Grosvenor” znd ““Marooned” won for him, and that he is now potboiling, with little success. The beok at hand Is one of the most improb- able fictions of the sea it is possible to imagine. In its perusal the reader who i conversant with Russell's plots is struck by the constant repetition of inci- dents all of which are familiar. The mad- ness of Captain Layard, which is brought to the point of tragedy by the untimely Arp - BRING - A - caring for their pets is strongly brought out in the story of ‘‘Siccatee, the Squir- rel,”” and it is also shown that these blunders are the result of ignoranco as to the requirements of their living toy: Mr.- Verbeek's drawings, which are full page in form and twelve in number, have been most artistically reproduced in color, and are all that can be desired in the way of illustration. (Published by Henry :l‘emus Company, Philadelphia. Price 1 25.) Vesper Sparrow. Margaret Kern has written a very en- tertaining book in her autoblography of a “Vesper Sparrow.” It not only has a story to tell that is instructive for its bird lore, but the author has done her work so well that those who read must decd be made to feel more Kindly toward the dumb creatures of creation. The “Vesper Sparrow’ tells not only all about itself and its own family, but it has much good gossip to retail of the other birds of the air and field, Miss Kern has dedicated her book to Mme. Lili Lehman Kalish, the president of the Audubon So- cicty, An idea of how highly Mme. Ki lish regards the book can be had from reading her reply fo Miss Kern's compli- mentary dedication: “I will only be too glad to have this work dedicated to me and will esteem it an honor. “There remains so much to be done toward securing for the birds a right to live their little span of life out unmo- lested, and the difficulties in the way seem so insurmountable, that I am often much discouraged for them. I bless ev- ery one who takes even the slightest in- terest in this holy cause. “Thank you so much for all you have done and will do. I bless you with all my heart, and every one will who knows what it means.” Such a recommendation should insure an ovation for Miss Kern's work among those who sympathize with or are inter- ested ia bird life. The book is published by the J. 8. Ogilvie Publishing Com- pany, New York. Where the Sugar Maple Grows. Adeline M. Teskey has.a book of ten short stories to her credit that shows her a master hand where delicate realism and pathos are concerned. ‘“Where the Sugar Maple Grows" is the poetical title of the beok, for it is in Mapleton, a typical Canadian village in the province of On- events chronicled are supposed to take place. The titles of the steries are as follows: “Three of the Women,” “The Out-of-Date Minister,” “A Common Man and His Wife,” “From the ‘Ould Sod’,” “Crazy Tim,” “The Man With the Hoe,” “‘Our White-Haired Boy,” “Ephraim Hart's Encounter With the Man o' Sin’ “The Village Saint” and “Kirsty McAlister.” All of the sketches show a remarkably close study of human nature, for they are absolutely true to life. The characters impress themselves upon you as being real, and the book is one that you can read a second time with even more pleasure than you perused it in the first instance. It is published by R. F. Fenno & Co., New York. tario, where the .Literary Notes. A quartet of great fiction writers will appear in the fiction number of Scrib- ner's—Rudyard Kipling, James M. Barrie, F. Hopkinson Smith and Richard Hardiag Davis. The Atlantic monthly fer July contains a paper of great interest by Professor Edward Dowden on Walter Pater. Th2 essay is indeed a peculiarly intimate ap- I iation quite in Pater’s vein. With rare tact Professor Dowden brings to- gether the most significant phrases and passages in ‘Pater’s writings, and so pre- sents a brief on the Pateresque philoso- phy of life, the famous “new Cyrenal- cism,” almost in Pater's own words, and with notable ‘“‘charm and lucid order and labor of the file.” We are pleased to learn that Walter Pulitzer is about to take under his edi- torial wing the new publication Ameri- can Tit-Bits, which is to be fashioned somewhat on the model of its well known English prototype. At the same time, rting from the stereotyped verbatim or extracts, many novel and inter- sting . features will be introduced. We feel sure that if Mr. Pulitzer puts as or- igiral work and effort into this new ven- ture as he has into his previous contri- butions to periodical literature, the paper will be eminently readable and command a wide circle of subscribers. The Abbey Press, New York, has just published ““A Soldier’'s Honor,” the same being an account of the life and deeds of Major General Earl Van Dorn by his comrades. The chapters are devoted to a statement of his birth, education and marriage, followed by reminiscences of his service in the Mexican .War, Texas and Indian fights, the Civil War in Vir- gini the Arkansas campaign at Vieks- burg, Corinth, Holly Springs and an ac- count of his last days at home. Dodd, Mead & Co. announce that they will publish shortly the authorized “Biog- raphy of Bret Harte,” written by T. Ed- gar Pemberton, the author of several well known theatrical biographies. Mr. Harte’s family have cordially offered to place all material at Mr. Pemberton’s disposal and, in fact, it was their desire that Mr. Pem- berton should write his life. The blog- rapher has also the same assurance from Eret Harte's intimate friends. Mr. Pem- berton has known Bret Harte for over twenty years, and he has been in close touch with him for the last seven years. Recently they were collaborating in a work which it is believed Mr. Pemberton is to complete. The August Everybody's is compound- ed chiefly of fiction. There are six short stories, a little poetry, a humorous study of the New England farmer, by Holman F. Day, who is called the poet laureate of Maine, a noble description of the grow- ing of wheat, “Blade and Sheaf, by Martha McCulloch Williams; A. Radelyffe Dugmore tells of the “Sheep Dog Trials at Troutbeck,” which suggested to Alfred Oifukant the grand scene in “Bob, Son of Battle’”; Arthur E. Johnson describes 1- JELMED - To - BEL AS\L- TO- DO - NOTHING - RiGMT & the remarkable air cooling machine in- vented by Professor Willls J. Moore. There arc the usual departments, ‘‘How to Make Money” and “Little Stories of People and Things,” and a most interss - ing description of “Customs and Cos- tumes of French Watering Places.” Besides its usual “Chronicle and Com- ment,” the following is the contents of the August Bookman: “Bird Call” (poem), Zona Gale; “The Trail of Tar- tarin,” paft 2, “Tartarin en Marche" (il- lustrated), Arthur Bartlett Maurice; “The Confessions of a Dime Novelist,” an in- terview (illustrated), Gelett Burgess; “Attacking the Newspapers,”” Frank Mecore Colby; “The Bases of the Drama,” 11, The Actor, Marguerite Merington; trangement” (poem), Charles Hanson Towne; “Rods and Gunnels,” Jack Lon- o The Poet Laureates of England” (illustrated), Thomas Seccombe; “A Morning” (poem), Theodosia Garrison; “Mr. Davis and the Real Olancho” (illus- trated), Willlam Harley Porter; *Liter- ary, Artistic and Bohemian London in the Seventies” (with drawings by Arthur Lumley), J. Henry Hager; “Fuel of Fire,” chapters XI, XII and XIII, Bllen Thorneycroft Fowler. “Monsigny,” by Justus Miles Forman, is the novelette with which the August number of the Smart Set opens. This is a powerful love story and one in which the dramatic interest grows steadily from the first page to the last. Amoug the short stories of this number is “The Dead and the Countess,” by Gertrude Atherton. An excellent foil to this som- ber story is “A Hedge, Cows—and Jane!" by Rosamond Napier, a bit of genuine humor, wholesome, delightful, new. Other stories that command special attention are: “In the Summer of St. Martin,” a dainty comedy by James Branch Cabell; “The Renunciation,” a narrative of self- sacrifice, by Prince Vladimir Vaniatsky; The Subjugation of Molly,” a most amusing story by Ethel Sigsbee; “A Strange Obsession,” a remarkable story by Leon Mead; “On Behalf of Dorinda,™” by Elizabeth r, and “Jamais Seuls,”™ by Edith Bigelo®%. Among other authors who are found at their best in this num- ber of the Smart Set are: Oliver Her- ford, Victor Plarr, Alfred Henry Lewis, Guy Wetmore Carryl, Clinton Scollard, Anatole France, Harrison S. Morris, Frank Dempster Sherman, Edwin L. Sa- bin, Tom Masson, Willlam J. Lampton, Charles Hanson Towne, Ella Wheeler ‘Wilcox, Theodosia Garrison, Louise Win- ter and Minna Irving. Edward H. Mitchell, the San Francisco publisher of Pacific Coast Souvenirs, has just brought from the press a new San Francisco View Book, the retail price of which is 50 cents. The photographs from which illustrations have been made werc all taken recently, and the collection of views represents al the leading features in and around San Francisco, including such subjects as are usually of interest to tourists. The book will also be of value to those of the West who wish to send an appropriate gift to their East- ern cousins. Mr. Mitchell also offers a very interesting souvenir in the shape of a unique deck of playing cards. The deck contains the usual fifty-two cards and joker and is suitable for playing all card games. The back design shows Mt. Hooud in colors and on the face of each carl is a view from some part of the Sta of Oregon, picturing the various indu tries, such as mining, fishing, agricuiture and timber scenes, etc. It makes quite a handsome and useful present. The price is $1. One of Mr. Mitchell's publi~ cations that should receive well-deservel popularity is the California View Writing Tablet. It is published in two sizes ter, 25 cents, and note, 15 cents. e contalus twenty-four pages, with three pictures on each page. This stationery is very appropriate for use when writing to friends or relatives in the East or abroad. ——— Books Received. THE STARBUCKS™-By Opie Read. & Lee, Chicago. S1 30. PLATO'S EUTHYPHRO—Edited Ham Arthur Heidel, Ph.D. Company, New £ GRAMMAR OF ATTIC AND GREEK—By Frank Cole Babbitt, Ph.D American Book Company, New York. $1 30 MESMERISM IN INDIA—By James E daile, M. D. The Psychic Rescarch « pany, Chicago. THE GORDIAN KNOT—By Plerson. Funk & Wagnalls York. 60 cents. THE GIRL WHO WROTE—By Alan Dale. Quail & Warner, New York. $1 50, HIGH SCHOOL ALGEBRA—By M. A Bailey, A. M. The American Book Company, New York. 90 cents. Latd by American Bock ~ork. 10N1¢ Arthur T. Company, New