Writings in the United Amateur, 1915-1922
THE UNITED AMATEUR MAY 1917
DEPARTMENT OF PUBLIC CRITICISM
=The Conservative= for January deserved distinction for its openingpoem, "The Vagrant," which proceeds from the thrice-gifted pen of Mrs.W. V. Jordan. The piece is one well worthy of close attention, since itcontains to a marked degree those elements of charm which render itsauthor so prominent among amateur bards. Bold and discriminating choiceof words and phrases, apt and unique images and personifications, and acarefully sustained atmosphere of delicate unreality, all unite toimpart a characteristic beauty to the lines. This beauty, searchinglyanalysed, reveals itself as something more sylvan and spontaneous thanstudied and bookish; indeed, all of Mrs. Jordan's verse is born ratherthan built.
"The Unbreakable Link," a prose sketch by Arthur W. Ashby, is smooth andgraphic in its delineation of a dream or vision of the past. The ancientheritage of Old England and its hoary edifices is here vividly setforth. Mr. Ashby's work, always notable for its command and intelligentinterpretation of detail, is welcome wherever encountered.
"When New-Year Comes," a poem by Rev. Eugene B. Kuntz, exhibits itsbrilliant author in a most felicitous though decidedly novel vein.Turning from his usual Alexandrines and heptameters, and laying asidehis characteristically stately and sonorous vocabulary, Dr. Kuntz hasproduced a gem of brevity and simplicity in octosyllabic couplets. Theease and naturalness of the language are so great that the reader feelsno other words or constructions could have been used with equal effect.The remainder of =The Conservative=, being the work of the presentcritic, deserves no particular mention.
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=The Coyote= for January bears an attractive cover design illustratingthe gentle beast after which the publication is named. The openingpiece, an alleged poem by the present critic, contains an humiliatingerror for which none but the author is responsible. The impossible word=supremest= in line 16, should read =sublimest=. The author is likewiseresponsible for the omission of the following couplet after line 26:
"Around his greatness pour disheart'ning woes, But still he tow'rs above his conquering foes."
The rest of the magazine is devoted to prose of practical nature,containing suggestions by Editor Harrington and Rev. Graeme Davis forthe resuscitation of one of the dormant press associations.
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=The Coyote= for April, home-printed and reduced to the conventional 5x7page, opens with Mrs. Jordan's pleasant lines on "The Duty." While thegeneral sentiment of this piece is by no means novel, the powerful anddistinctive touch of the authoress is revealed by such highly originalpassages as the following:
"And black-wing'd, clucking shadows Brought out their broods of fears."
A poet of rather different type is displayed in "The Five-MinuteSchool," by Lovell Leland Massie. Mr. Massie is said to have "anunlimited supply of poems on hand which he desires to publish," but itis evident that some preliminary alterations would not be undesirable.In the first place, the metre requires correction; though it isremarkably good for beginner's work. Particularly weak lines are thesecond in stanza four, and the second in stanza six. The phraseology isstiff but by no means hopeless, and proclaims nothing more serious thanthe need of greater poetic familiarity on the author's part. The rhymesare good with two exceptions; =past= and =class=, and =jewel= and=school=. Mr. Massie, however, is not the first bard to reduce =jew-el=to "=jool=!" "The Coyote," by Obert O. Bakken, is a worthy andinteresting composition upon a well known animal. "A Soul," by Olive G.Owen, is reprinted from the professional press, and amply merits thehonour. The poem is of unexceptionable technique and adequate sentiment.Miss Owen's brilliant, fruitful, and long-continued poetical career hasfew parallels in the amateur world. "The Amateur Christian," a briefprose essay by Benjamin Winskill, presents more than one valuable truth;though we wish the word "=par=," near the close, might be expanded toproper fulness. We presume that it is intended to stand for =paragraph=.
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=The Crazyquilt= for December is a highly entertaining illustratedpublication whose exact classification is a matter of some difficulty.We might perhaps best describe it as a bubbling over of youthfulspirits, with here and there a touch of unobtrusive seriousness. Theeditor, Mr. Melvin Ryder, is to be commended upon his enterprise; whichconsists in approximately equal parts of prose, verse, and whimsical=vers libre=. It is the last named product which most absorbs ourattention, since the given specimens afford a very brilliant satire onthe absurd medium in which they are set. The choicest selections are dueto the fertile pen of Mr. William S. Wabnitz, assisted by that notunknown classic called "Mother Goose," whose ideas accord well with thethought of the new "poetry." "A Futuresk Romance," by Mr. Wabnitz alone,is of exceeding cleverness. Among the genuine poems, we may giveparticular commendation to "Bluebirds are Flying Over," by Mrs. DoraHepner Moitoret; "Longin' and Yearnin'," "Spring," "Verses," and"Dreaming," by J. H. Gavin; and "Stars After Rain," by William S.Wabnitz. Mr. Gavin's "Dreaming" is a hauntingly pretty piece, thoughmarred by an imperfect line (the twelfth) and by an incorrectaccentuation of the word =romance=. This word should be accented on thefinal syllable.
"Odd Patches and Even" is the title of the editorial column, whichcontains many words of wisdom (though not too grave) by Mr. Ryder. Wehope to behold future issues of =The Crazyquilt=.
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=Dowdell's Bearcat= for October, partly compiled and financed by theUnited's official board in lieu of the missing =Official Quarterly=,comes to us unbound and without a cover; yet contains, aside from theinexcusable editorials, a rich array of meritorious material. Mr.Dowdell's comment on radical eccentrics and malcontents is apt andclever, showing how bright this young writer can be when he avoids badtaste and personalities.
"A Little Lovely Lyric," by Mrs. Dora H. Moitoret, is one of thechoicest of this author's poems, having a spirit and cadence of rarequality. In "The Real Amateur Spirit," Pres. Campbell presents invigorous prose many important truths and principles of amateurjournalism. The concluding sentence forms a definition of our animatingimpulse which deserves repeated publication as a motto and inspiration."An American To Mother England," by the present critic, is an expressionof cultural and ancestral ties which have now, through the fortunes ofwar, grown doubly strong. The word =Saxon=, in the last line, shouldbegin with a capital. "Dream Life" is a vivid piece of prose mysticismby our versatile and gifted Vice-President, Mr. Ira A. Cole. Defyingprecise grouping either as a sketch or a story, this enigmatical bit offancy deserves highest praise for its fluent diction, rich imagination,potent atmosphere, and graphic colouring. Mr. Cole has a bright futurein prose as well as in verse for in both of these media he is a genuineand spontaneous poet. "United Impressions," by Mrs. E. L. Whitehead, isclear, interesting, and well-written, as is also the sketch by Mary M.Sisson entitled "Passion versus Calm." "The Elm Tree," by James TobeyPyke, is a poem of remarkable sweetness and nobility, through whoselofty sentiment shines the true splendour of the inspired bard. There isa master touch in the passage referring to
"----a sweet heaven Of singing birds and whispering leaves."
Mrs. Winifred Virginia Jordan, without one of whose delightful verses noamateur publication can really compete, contributes a sparklingsuccession of amatory anapaests entitled "Dear." The middle stanza risesto great lyric heights, and should prove especially captivating to suchdiscriminating critics of lyricism as our colleague Mr. Kleiner.
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=The Enthusiast= for February is a hectographed publication issued byour latest young recruit, Mr. James Mather Mosely of Westfield, Mass.Mr. Mosely is a youth of sterling ability and great promise, whose workis already worthy of notice and encouragement. The editor's leadingarticle, "The Secret Inspiration of a Man Who Made Good," shows unusualfluency and literary assurance, though we might wish for a moredignified title. The
expression =to make good= is pure slang, and shouldbe supplanted by one of the many legitimate English words and phraseswhich convey the same meaning. Mr. Mosely's editorials are likewise opento criticism on the ground of colloquialism, though the naturalexuberance of youth excuses much. "The Birds," by Harold Gordon Hawkins,is a truly excellent specimen of juvenile verse, which contains muchpromise for the author's efforts. Increased familiarity with standardliterary models will remove all evidences of stiffness now perceptible."How Men Go Wrong," a conventional moral homily by Edgar Holmes Plummer,shows a slight want of original ideas and a tendency to commonplaces;though having much merit in construction. Another subject might displayMr. Plummer's talent to better advantage. The use of the word =habitat=for =inhabitant= or =denizen= is incorrect, for its true meaning is a=natural locality= or =place of habitation=. "Blueberry Time," by RuthFoster, is obviously a schoolgirl composition, albeit a pleasing one.
F. R. Starr's cartoon scarcely comes within the province of a literarycritic, but is doubtless an excellent example of elementary art. Wequestion, however, the place of popular cartoons in serious papers; the"funny picture" habit is essentially a plebeian one, and alien tojournalism of the highest grade. All things considered, =The Enthusiast=is a creditable exponent of junior letters, which deserves theencouragement and support of the United.
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=Excelsior= for March is in many respects the most notable of theseason's amateur magazines edited by our brilliant Laureate Recorder,Miss Verna McGeoch, it contains a surprisingly ample and impressivecollection of prose and verse by our best writers; including thedelectable lyricist Perrin Holmes Lowrey, whose work has hitherto beenunrepresented in the press of the United. The issue opens with Mr.Jonathan E. Hoag's stately "Ode to Old Ocean," whose appropriate imageryand smooth couplets are exceedingly pleasant to the mind and ear alike.Mr. Hoag's unique charm is no less apparent in the longer reminiscentpiece entitled "The Old Farm Home," which describes the author's boyhoodscenes at Valley Falls, New York, where he was born more than eighty-sixyears ago. This piece has attracted much favorable notice in theprofessional world, having been reprinted in =The Troy Times=. PerrinHolmes Lowrey contributes a cycle of three poems touching on thebeauties of the month of April; one of which, "April in Killarney," willthis summer be set to music by Leopold Godowsky. The style of Mr. Lowreypossesses an attractive individuality and delicacy which is alreadybringing him celebrity in the larger literary sphere. What could be morethoroughly enchanting than such a stanza as the following?
"Oh, it's April in Killarney, Early April in Killarney, Where the Irish lanes are merry And the lyric breezes blow; And the scented snows of cherry Drift across the fields of Kerry-- Oh, it's April in Killarney And she loves the April so."
"Treasure Trove," by Henry Cleveland Wood, is a pleasant and urbane bitof light verse; while "Percival Lowell," by Howard Phillips Lovecraft,is an abominably dull elegiac piece of heavy verse. Edwin Gibson's"Sonnet to Acyion" deserves keen attention as the work of a capable andrapidly developing young bard. "Real versus Ideal" is a bright metricaldivertissement by John Russell, which suffers through the omission ofthe opening line by the printer. This line is:
"For sale--a cottage by the sea."
We recommend the final line to the attention of those careless bards whopronounce =real= as =reel=, and =ideal= as =ideel=. The correctquantities, as there given, will serve as examples. Verse of deeperquality is furnished by amateurdom's foremost expressionist, AnneTillery Renshaw, two of whose poems appear. "The Singing Sea" containsan error of technique, =hope= and =note= being placed in attemptedrhyme; but the structure is in general very regular, considering theauthor's radical theories. Of the merit of the sentiment it isunnecessary to speak. "A Wish" is cast in less fluent metre, but is soreplete with aptness, grandeur and refinement of ideas, that thesternest critic must needs view its form with lenient glance. The prosecontents of =Excelsior= are worthy company for the verse. Paul J.Campbell is represented by a very brief though characteristic essayentitled "The Price of Freedom," wherein appears the sound reasoning andcourageous philosophy for which Mr. Campbell has always beendistinguished. Another notable essay or review is "English History," byHenry Clapham McGavack. Mr. McGavack here ably employs his keen analysisand lucid style in dissecting Prof. Meyer's absurdly biased butdiabolically clever pro-German History of England.
"The Association," by David H. Whittier, teems with good adviceconcerning the proper management of the United. Mr. Whittier's style issmooth and dignified, exhibiting a sober maturity unusual for a youngauthor. "Tonio's Salvation," a short story by Edna von der Heide, is theonly bit of fiction in the magazine. This brief glimpse of thecosmopolitan child life of a modern city is marked equally bynaturalness of plot and facility of technic, forming a piece quiteprofessional in quality and atmosphere. =Excelsior= has done much tosustain the best traditions of the United, and we hope its futureappearance will be frequent and regular. The editorial column revealsthe genius and exquisite taste of its gifted publisher.
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=Merry Minutes= for December-January is an interesting number of aninteresting publication, opening with some extremely clever cartoons bythe United's soldier-member, George William Stokes. "Merry Minutes," apoem in trochaic measure by Olive G. Owen, is distinguished by the touchof beauty characteristic of all its author's work; but has a singularsort of rhyming in the first and third lines of the stanzas. The cadenceseems to call for double rhymes, yet only the final syllables agree. Thelast word of the first stanza is unfortunately shorn by the printer ofits final =s=. "The Dancing Tiger" is an excellent short story byRaymond Blathwayt, which might, however, be improved in style by aslightly closer attention to punctuation and structure of sentences."Home," by Margaret Mahon, is a poem in that rather popular modernmeasure which seems to waver betwixt the iambus and anapaest. Theimagery is pleasing, and the sentiment, though not novel, is acceptable."The Choice," a serial story by Beryl Mappin, exhibits the sameimmaturities of style which mark the didactic articles of this author;yet so active is the imagination shown in some of the passages, that webelieve Miss Mappin requires only time and harder study in order tobecome a very meritorious writer. The syntactical structure of thisstory is, on the average, smoother than that of Miss Mappin's essays;indeed, there is reason to believe that fiction is the better suited toher pen. "Absence," by Winifred Virginia Jordan, is a brief poem offaultless harmony whose quaintly sparkling imagery gives to an old themea new lustre. "Education in Trinidad" is another of F. E. Hercules'terse and informing descriptive sketches. "Alley," by Mrs. Jordan, is alight pulsing lyric of almost Elizabethan quality, one of whose rhymesis of a type which has caused much discussion in the United's criticalcircles. The native pronunciation of New England makes of =scarf= and=laugh= an absolutely perfect rhyme; this perfection depending upon thecurtailed phonetic value of the letter =r=; which in a place such asthis is silent, save as it modifies the quality of the preceding vowel.In the London of Walker's day the same condition existed. But the tongueand ear of the American West have become accustomed to a certain rollwhich causes =scarf= to be enunciated as =scarrf=, thus throwing it outof rhyme with words of similar sound which lack the =r=. The Westernerwould have to write =scahf=, in order to express to his own mind theNew-England sound of =scarf=. Hitherto, the present critic has called nonotice to rhymes of this type; and has, indeed, frequently employed themhimself; but recognition of etymological principles involved willhereafter impel him to abandon and discourage the practice, which wasnot followed by the older classicists. To the New-England author thisrenunciation means relinquishment of many rhymes which are to his earperfect, yet in the interests of tradition and universality it seemsdesirable that the sacrifice be made. "Why Mourn Thy Soldier Dead," is apoem of brave sorrow by Olive G. Owen. The fervour of the lines is deep,and the sentiments are of great nobility. Structurally the piece isflawless.
"Chaucer, the Father of English Poetry," is the third of MissMappin's series of articles on literary history. An unfortunate misprintrelegates to the bottom of the footnote a line which should immediatelyfollow the specimen verse. The style is decidedly clearer and betterthan that of the preceding instalment of the series. "When You Went," byMrs. Jordan, is an engagingly pathetic poem; with just that touch of theunseen which lends so particular a charm to Jordanian verse. MissTrafford's appealing lines on "A Girl to Her Dead Lover" form a vividlypathetic glimpse into low life. The poetic form is quite satisfactory.As a whole, =Merry Minutes= constitutes a rather remarkable enterprise,sustaining through troubled times the spark of activity which willkindle anew the fires of British amateur journalism after the victoriousclose of the war. May America, in her new crisis, do as well!
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=Merry Minutes= for February opens with Margaret Mahon's poem "God'sSolace," a smooth and restful bit of versification. "Spencer and theBeginning of the Elizabethan Era" is the current article of BerylMappin's series on English Literature, and contains some very promisingpassages, especially the almost poetic introduction. Miss Mappin has anunusual fund of knowledge, and a pleasing gift of expression; but theseadvantages are as yet not fully systematised or marshalled to besteffect. Miss Trafford's serial, "The Pursuit of the Innocent," concludesin this number. This story bears many of the signs of juvenileworkmanship, the present instalment being so hurried in action that italmost attains the brevity of a synopsis. Careful and analytical perusalof standard fiction would assist greatly in maturing and perfecting theauthor's style. "Religion and Superstition" is the current article inF. E. M. Hercules' interesting series on Trinidad; and exhibits all thepolish, lucidity and conciseness of its predecessors. "His Photo," byMaster Randolph Trafford, is a very promising poem by a youthful bard.Every rhyme is correct, which is more than can be claimed for a greatdeal of the poesy perpetrated by older and more pretentious versifierson this side of the Atlantic. The present instalment of "The Choice," byBeryl Mappin, is marked by considerable fluency and animation, thoughpossessed of certain limitations previously mentioned.
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=Merry Minutes= for March commences with the present critic's dull lines"On Receiving a Picture of the Marshes at Ipswich." Passing to moremeritorious matter, we encounter Miss Mappin's latest literary article,"Shakespeare," which interests even whilst it reveals deficiencies ofprose technique. "Jimmy's Little Girl," by Joseph Parks, is a vividtranscript of military life by a military author. While the tale is notone of vast originality, it nevertheless recommends itself throughsimplicity and verisimilitude. Miss Mappin's serial "The Choice,"concludes in this issue. It is very praiseworthy for its many colourfulpassages, but mildly censurable for its melodramatic atmosphere andrhetorical lapses. The opening sentence of this instalment containsinstances of both of these faults: "A terrible foreboding grippedChristabel's heart in bands of steel, as if for a moment to cleave hertongue to the roof of her mouth." This is the last number of thepublication to appear under the present name. Beginning with the Aprilissue it will be known as =The Little Budget=; and will contain, on theaverage, a rather higher grade of reading matter than heretofore. But informing a judgment of any kind, it is well to recognize that themagazine's appeal is frankly popular.
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=Pep= for February is the first number of a somewhat extraordinaryenterprise conducted by George W. Macauley with the laudable object ofwaking up a sleeping amateurdom. The editor very justly takes the pressassociations to task for their manifold sins, particularly the dubiouscircumstances surrounding a recent convention, in which it is needlessto say the United had no part. Mr. Macauley's literary attainments arevery considerable, but as yet unperfected. Possessed of rare charm indescriptive prose, he needs to exercise a greater nicety of constructionin order to develop fully the riches which are his. Gifted with a large,facile, and ingenious vocabulary, he is not sufficiently precise anddiscriminating in his employment of words according to their finershades of meaning. This carelessness makes faults of his very virtues;for his vigour of expression tends to take the form of =outre= andinadmissible rhetoric, whilst his talent for word-painting tends todegenerate into word-coining. It would be quite possible for an acutecritic to compile a dictionary of peculiarly Macaulian words andphrases, to which the current =Pep= might contribute such terms as=probverb= (proverb?). Spelling and punctuation also should claim moreof Mr. Macauley's time and attention; for he might easily avoid suchslips as =believeing=, =it's= (for =its=), =thots=, and the like. Inshort, Mr. Macauley is at present a gifted writer and brilliant editorlabouring under the disadvantages of haste, carelessness, and perhaps adash of radicalism.
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=The Phoenician= for Spring is the first number of an enthusiasticallyconducted semi-professional venture of juvenile nature, whose connexionwith the United hinges on the associate editorship of our cleverrecruit, Mr. James Mather Mosely. Like =Merry Minutes=, this publicationis of the popular rather than conservative sort; being obviouslydesigned primarily to please, secondarily to instruct. We deplore theuse of commonplace and sensational topics, colloquial expressions, andmalformed spelling; but make due concessions to the youth of theeditorial staff and the nascent state of the periodical. So promisingare the young publishers that time cannot fail to refine and maturetheir efforts. "An Hour with a Lunatic," by Harry B. Sadik, is a veryshort and very thrilling tale of the "dime novel" variety. Mr. Sadik hasa commendable sense of the dramatic, which would serve him well shouldhe choose a less sensational field of endeavour. "Our Soldiers," aCanadian mother's war song by Mrs. Minnie E. Taylor, exhibits merit,though having many signs of imperfect technic. In line 2 of the firststanza =bid= should be replaced by =bade=. The final rhyme of the poem,that of =gain= and =name=, is false and inadmissible. Metrically thereis much roughness, which careful study and diligent reading of goodverse can in time correct. "Candy and Health," and "If You Were Down andOut," by James Mather Mosely, are two typical newspaper interviews withrepresentative men. Mr. Mosely shows much aptitude as a reporter, havingan almost professional ease and fluency. This is not literature, but itis good journalism. "The Dinner Never Paid For," by Viola Jameson, is apiece of characteristic light fiction; commendably innocuous, and not atall overburdened with philosophical complexity. "The Secret of Success,"by Edith L. Clark, is a promising bit of didactic prose. "The End of theRoad," by Pearl K. Merritt, is a brief essay of substantial worth. "TheToll of the Sea," a poem by Harold Gordon Hawkins, shows considerablemerit despite irregularities. "Memories," by Arthur Goodenough, wellsustains the high poetical reputation of its author, though it iscruelly marred by the illogical and censurable "simplified" spellingwhich the young editors see fit to employ. One line affords a silent butstriking instance of the utter senselessness and confusion of the neworthographical fad. This line reads:
"Of human =thot= might well be =wrought=."
Now in the first place, =thot= does not express the true pronunciationof =thought=. The word, thus written, tends to acquire the vocal qualityof =shot= or =blot=, as distinguished from =taught= or =brought=.Secondly, in this place it is out of accord with =wrought=, which iscorrectly spelled. If Messrs. Plummer and Mosely would be logical, letthem write =wrought= as =wrot=--or perhaps plain =rot= would be stillmore correct and phonetic, besides furnishing a laconic punningcommentary on simple spelling in general. =The Phoenician's= editorialcolumn is conducted with laudable seriousness, the item of "The Power ofBooks" being well worthy of perusal. What could best be spared from themagazine are the vague jokes and cartoons, purposeless "fillers" ofmiscellaneous nature, and columns of idle gossip about things ingeneral. Some of the moving picture items are greatly suggestive of whata newspaper man would dub "press agent stuff." The magazine represents adegree of purpose and energy quite rare amongst the anaemic youth oftoday, and should receive correspondin
g encouragement from the membersof the United. Those who are inclined to censure its professional aspectwould do well to remember the much-vaunted beginnings of amateurjournalism, when the most highly respected sheets were of this selfsamevariety.
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THE UNITED AMATEUR for November is heavily burdened with a sombre andsinister short story from our own pen, entitled "The Alchemist." This isour long unpublished credential to the United, and constitutes the firstand only piece of fiction we have ever laid before a critical anddiscerning public wherefore we must needs beg all the charitableindulgence the Association can extend to an humble though ambitioustyro. A more interesting feature of the magazine is the biography of Mr.Fritter, written by our brilliant Official Editor, Andrew FrancisLockhart. Mr. Lockhart's quaint and friendly prose style is heredisplayed at its best, giving a vivid and sympathetic portrayal of hisprominent subject. "Beyond the Law," by Mary Faye Durr, is a light shortstory of excellent idea and construction, whose only censurable point isthe use of "simplified" spelling. We believe that some procedure ofquite drastic nature should be taken against the spread of this emptyinnovation before our settled orthography shall have become completelydisorganized. Even in the United we can "do our bit." Our editors shouldband together in an effort to exclude the new forms from theirpublications, and our manuscript managers should see that every piecepassing through their hands is duly purged of these radical distortions.At the same time, a series of articles explaining and analysing thespelling problem should be given wide publicity. The poetry in thisissue is of encouraging quality. George M. Whiteside, in "Dream of theIdeal," gives indications of real genius; at the same time displaying alittle of the technical infelicity which has marked his earlier verse.Mr. Whiteside's greatest weakness is in the domain of rhyme, anoticeable error in the present poem being the attempted rhyming of=hours= with =bars= and =stars=. "I Know a Garden," by Agnes RichmondArnold, is a tuneful and beautiful lyric of a somewhat Elizabethan type.The metre, as the lines are rendered, appears to be quite unusual; butscansion reveals the fact that it is none other than the octosyllabiccouplet, disguised by the printer's art.
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THE UNITED AMATEUR for December begins with "A Girl's Ambition," a poemby Margaret Trafford. The general idea of the piece is both ingeniousand appropriate, but the language and technical development leaveconsiderable to be desired. In the first place, the rhyming plan isunfortunate; the opening and concluding couplets of each stanza beingunrhymed. In the second place, the metre is irregular; departing verywidely in places from the iambic heptameter which appears to be thedominant measure. Miss Trafford should cultivate an ear for rhythm, atthe same time counting very carefully the syllables in each line shecomposes. A third point requiring mention is the occasional awkwardnessof expression, a juvenile fault which will doubtless amend itself intime. Just now we will call attention to only one defect--theexceedingly forced abbreviation "=dresses'd=" for =dresses would=. "ToMy Physician," by M. Estella Shufelt, is a smooth, graceful, and seriouspoem whose only possible fault is the infrequency of rhyme. This is nota technical defect, since the plan of construction is well maintainedthroughout; but we believe a poem of this type requires more than onerhyme to each stanza of eight lines. "The Old Inn," a stirring shortstory by Gertrude L. Merkle, is a very promising piece of work, albeitsomewhat conventional and melodramatic. The alliterative romance ofHarry Henders and Hazel Hansen has a genuinely mid-Victorian flavour."Dead Men Tell No Tales," a short story by Ida Cochran Haughton, is aghastly and gruesome anecdote of the untenanted clay; related by avillage dressmaker. The author reveals much comprehension of ruralpsychology in her handling of the theme; an incident which might easilyshake the reason of a sensitive and imaginative person, merely"unnerves" the two quaint and prim maiden ladies. Poe would have made ofthis tale a thing to gasp and tremble at; Mrs. Haughton, with the samematerial, constructs genuine though grim comedy!
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THE UNITED AMATEUR for January contains Editor Lockhart's captivatinglygraceful retrospect of the older amateur journalism, concluding with ajust and eloquent appeal for the revival of our ancient enthusiasm. "WhoPays," by Helene H. Cole, is a brief and tragic story of considerablesociological significance. We deplore the use of the false verbal form=alright=; for while the expression =all right= may well occur inconversation of the character uttering it, the two words should bewritten out in full. "To a Babe," by Olive G. Owen, embodies inimpeccable verse a highly clever and pleasing array of poeticalconceits; and deserves to be ranked amongst the choicest of recentamateur offerings. "Girls are Like Gold," by Paul J. Campbell, is astriking and witty adaptation of Thomas Hood's celebrated lines on
"Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Bright and yellow, hard and cold."
Mr. Campbell exhibits both ingenuity and metrical ability in this facile=jeu d'esprit=.
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THE UNITED AMATEUR for March contains "Love's Scarlet Roses," anexquisite piece of lyric verse by Mary Henrietta Lehr of California.Miss Lehr, a scholar and poetic genius of high order, is a prominentamateur of a few years ago, lately returned to activity after a periodof endeavour in other fields. Her verse is uniformly distinguished bydepth of inspiration, delicacy of sentiment, and grace of structure;occupying a place amongst the rarest products of amateurdom. Anotherpoem of remarkable merit in this issue is "The Gods' Return," by OliveG. Owen. Inspired by a recent article from the pen of Richard LeGallienne, these well-wrought lines interpret one of the subtlest yetmost potent of the varied moods created in the human breast by themomentous occurrences of the age. Looking over the file of THE UNITEDAMATEUR for the present administrative year, one may discover a diverseand meritorious array of poetry and prose, which amply proves thecontention of Pres. Campbell that a literary official organ is not onlyfeasible but eminently desirable.
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=The Woodbee= for January introduces to amateurdom a new bard, Mr. J.Morris Widdows, Hoosier exponent of rural simplicity. Mr. Widdows hasenjoyed considerable success in the professional world as a poet,song-writer, and musical composer; hence it is no untried or falteringquill which he brings within our midst. "Stringtown on the Pike," whichadorns the first page of the magazine, is a very pleasing bit of dialectverse whose accent and cadences suggest the work of the late JamesWhitcomb Riley. The metre is gratifyingly correct, and the rusticismsexceedingly colourful; though the average reader might find it somewhatdifficult to associate the name Miko with Yankee countryside. Such apraenomen carries with it suggestions of a rich brogue rather than anasal drawl. "Personal Liberty," a brilliant short essay by Leo Fritter,ably and sensibly explodes one of the characteristically speciousarguments of the liquor advocates. Mr. Fritter's legal training aids himin presenting a clear, polished, and logical arraignment ofanti-prohibition hypocrisy. "Just a Little Love Tale," by Elizabeth M.Ballou, is a smoothly constructed bit of very light fiction. Mrs.Haughton's editorial, "A Review of Reviews," is concise and sensible;giving a merited rebuke to those who seek to create unrest anddissatisfaction in amateur journalism.
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=The Woodbee= for April is an ample and attractive number, opening withDora H. Moitoret's excellent poem in the heroic couplet, "The AprilMaiden." The metre of this piece follows the fashion of the nineteenthrather than of the eighteenth century, having very few "end-stopt" linesor sense-limiting couplets. The final rhyme of =caprice= and =these= issomewhat imperfect, the effect being that of an attempted rhyme of =s=and =z=. "Her Fateful Day," a short story by Maude Dolby, is pleasingand ingenious despite certain improbabilities. "Ashes of Roses," byFrieda M. Sanger, belongs to that abnormal and lamentable type ofpseudo-literature known as =vers libre=, and is the first seriousspecimen of its kind ever inflicted upon the United. We are sincerelysorry that one so gifted as Miss Sanger should descend to this hybrid,
makeshift medium, when she could so well express her thoughts either inlegitimate prose or legitimate verse. "Free Verse" has neither the flowof real verse nor the dignity of real prose. It tends to developobnoxious eccentricities of expression, and is closely associated withbizarre and radical vagaries of thought. It is in nine cases out of tena mere refuge of the obtuse, hurried, indolent, ignorant, or negligentbard who cannot or will not take the time and pains to compose genuinepoetry or even passable verse. It has absolutely no justification forexistence, and should be shunned by every real aspirant to literaryexcellence, no matter how many glittering inducements it seems to holdout. True, a person of very little knowledge or ability can make himselfappear extremely cultured, aesthetic, and aristocratic by juggling a fewempty words in the current fashion; scribbling several lines of unequallength, each beginning with a capital letter. It is an admirably easyway to acquire a literary reputation without much effort. As the lateW. S. Gilbert once wrote of a kindred fad:
"The meaning doesn't matter If it's only idle chatter Of a transcendental kind."
But we believe that the members of the United are more earnest and solidin their ambition, hence we advise Miss Sanger to turn her undoubtedtalent into more substantial channels. That she possesses genuine poeticgenius is amply evident, even from the specimen of =vers libre= beforeus. The labour of real versification will be more arduous, but thefruits will prove richer in proportion. It is better to glean a littlegold than much fools' gold. Miss Sanger's nephew, Mr. Norman Sanger, ismore conservative in his tastes, and is creditably represented by hislines on "The Ol' Fishin' Hole." This piece contains many of therhythmical defects common to juvenile composition, but is pervaded by anaturalness and pastoral simplicity which promise well for its youngauthor. Wider reading and closer rhetorical study will supply all thatMr. Sanger now lacks. At present we should advise him to seek metricalregularity by taking some one well defined line as a model, and mouldingall the others to it by counting the syllables and intoning the accentsin each. In the case of the present poem, the very first line will serveas a perfect guide; its conformity to the iambic heptameter plan beingabsolute. The alternating stresses of the fourteen syllables should benoted and copied:
"The =days= are =get=-tin' =balm=-y =now=, and =first=-est =thing= you =know=."
Two defects of rhyme are to be noted. =By= and =lullaby= cannot properlybe rhymed, since the rhyming syllables are =identical=, instead ofmerely =similar=. "=Rapcher=" and =laughter= do not rhyme at all. MissHaughton's essay "Is a Lie Ever Justifiable?" forms a prominent featureof the magazine, and presents some very ingenious though dogmaticreasoning. Mrs. Haughton's editorial, "United We Stand," is anexceedingly timely appeal for genuine amateur activity, and should be ofmuch value in stimulating a renaissance of the Association. The passagereading "Who has been the latest victim of Cupid? =Whom= of Hymen?"arouses a query as to the grammatical status of =whom=. We fear this iswhat Franklin P. Adams of the =New York Tribune= playfully calls a"=Cyrilization=." It is, as all readers of "The Conning Tower" cantestify, a remarkably common error; and one into which many of theleading authors of the age frequently fall. The jingle "A Soldier'sDelight," by George William Stokes, concludes the current issue intuneful manner.
Amidst the present dearth of amateur magazines it is ever a delight tobehold =The Woodbee=; meritorious in contents and regular in issuance.The debt of the United to the Columbus Club is indeed a heavy one.
H. P. LOVECRAFT, Chairman.