46. Murder? by Seumas O'Brien (The Illustrated Sunday Magazine). With something of Hardy's stark rendering of atmosphere, Mr. O'Brien has portrayed a grim situation unforgettably. Woven out of the simplest elements, and with an entire lack of literary sophistication, his story is fairly comparable to the work of Daniel Corkery, whose volume, "A Munster Twilight," has interested me more than any other volume of short stories published in America this year. The story is of particular interest because Mr. O'Brien's reputation as an artist has been based solely upon his work as a satirist and Irish fabulist.
47. The Interval by Vincent O'Sullivan (Boston Evening Transcript). It is odd to reflect that a literary artist of Mr. O'Sullivan's distinction is not represented in American magazines during 1917 at all, and that it has been left to a daily newspaper to publish his work. In "The Interval," Mr. O'Sullivan has sought to suggest the spiritual effect of the war upon a certain type of mind. He has rendered with faithful subtleness the newly aroused longing for religious belief or some form of concrete spiritual expression that bereavement brings. This state has a pathos of its own that the author adequately realizes in his story, and his irony in portraying it is Gallic in its quality.
48. Bixby's Bridge by Georgia Wood Pangborn (Harper's Magazine). Mrs. Pangborn is well known for her artistic stories of the supernatural, and this will rank among the very best of them. She shares with Algernon Blackwood that gift for making spiritual illusion real which is so rare in contemporary work. What is specially distinctive is her gift of selection, by which she brings out the most illusive psychological contrasts.
49. "A Certain Rich Man—," by Lawrence Perry (Scribner's Magazine). I find in this story an emotional quality keyed up as tightly, but as surely, as in the best short stories by Mary Synon. Remote as its substance may seem, superficially, it touches the very heart of the experience that the war has brought to us all, and reveals the naked stuff out of which our war psychology has emerged.
50. The Portrait by Emery Pottle (The Touchstone). This study in Italian backgrounds is by another disciple of Henry James, who portrays with deft sure touches the nostalgia of an American girl unhappily married to an Italian nobleman. It just fails of complete persuasiveness because it is a trifle overstrung, but nevertheless it is memorable for its artistic sincerity.
51. The Path of Glory by Mary Brecht Pulver (Saturday Evening Post). This story of how distinction came to a poor family in the mountains through the death of their son in the French army is simply told with a quiet, unassuming earnestness that makes it very real. It marks a new phase of Mrs. Pulver's talent, and one which promises her a richer fulfilment in the future than her other stories have suggested. Time and time again I have been impressed this year by the folk quality that is manifest in our younger writers, and what is most encouraging is that, when they write of the poor and the lowly, there is less of that condescension toward their subject than has been characteristic of American folk-writing in the past.
52. Miss Fothergill by Norval Richardson (Scribner's Magazine). The tradition in English fiction, which is most signally marked by "Pride and Prejudice," "Cranford," and "Barchester Towers," and which was so pleasantly continued by the late Dr. S. Weir Mitchell and by Margaret Deland, is admirably embodied in the work of this writer, whose work should be better known. The quiet blending of humor and pathos in "Miss Fothergill" is unusual.
53. The Scar That Tripled by William Gunn Shepherd (Metropolitan Magazine) is none the less truly a remarkable short story because it happens to be based on fact. "The Deserter" was the last fine short story written by the late Richard Harding Davis, and "The Scar That Tripled" is the engrossing narrative of the adventure which suggested that story. Personally, I regard it as superior to "The Deserter."
54. A Country Christmas by Grant Showerman (Century Magazine). Professor Showerman's country chronicles are now well known to American readers, and this is quite the best of them. These sketches rank with those of Hamlin Garland as a permanent and delightful record of a pioneer life that has passed away for ever. Their deliberate homeliness and consistent reflection of a small boy's attitude toward life have no equal to my knowledge.
55. The Christmas Angel (The Pictorial Review), and 56. The Flag of Eliphalet (Boston Evening Transcript) by Elsie Singmaster add two more portraits to the pleasant gallery of Elsie Singmaster's vivid creations. Although her vein is a narrow one, no one is more competent than she in its expression, and few surpass her in the faithful rendering of homely but none the less real spiritual circumstance.