30. The Willow Walk, by Sinclair Lewis (Saturday Evening Post). It was an interesting problem which presented itself to Mr. Lewis when he thought of writing this story. Could a criminal of marked intellectual ability create a dual personality for himself by inventing an imaginary brother, give up his own personality after his crime, and live on undetected in the continuous imaginative realization of his new personality? Mr. Lewis has studied the psychological effects of such a successful impersonation and shown the destructive force of mental suggestion on the soul, in a manner which is in interesting contrast to that employed by Charles Caldwell Dobie in the story which I have mentioned above.
31. The Haymakers (Stratford Journal) and 32. Old Lady Hudson (The Midland), by Jeannette Marks. These two allegorical stories are written in what is usually a most hazardous literary form. I think that Miss Marks has steered clear of Scylla and Charybdis successfully, and pointed out to a somewhat deaf world the imaginative realities which underlie the commercial crust of our American civilization. These stories, and others of similar tenor, are to be published shortly in a volume entitled “Forgotten Sins.”
33. Nettle and Foxglove, by Marjory Morten (Century Magazine). This is a study in conflicting temperaments which is very gently rendered with an art that recalls in its subtlety that of Miss Ethel Sidgwick’s novels. A collection of Mrs. Morten’s studies, reprinted from the files of the Century Magazine, would make an interesting volume.
34. The Story Vinton Heard at Mallorie, by Katharine Prescott Moseley (Scribner’s Magazine). Miss Moseley, who is a niece of Mrs. Harriet Prescott Spofford, shares with Mrs. Frances G. Wood the distinction of having contributed one of the two most enduring legends this year to the supernatural literature of the war. One of the most significant aspects of the American short story during the past two years has been its increasing preoccupation with supernatural beliefs, especially as they have a bearing on the fortunes of the war. Arthur Machen perhaps inaugurated this movement with his remarkable story about the angels of Mons, but the spirit was implicit before that in much American work. In editing a series of War Echoes for The Bookman last year, I had occasion to read the manuscripts of several hundred war stories, and it was a gratifying surprise to find that fully sixty per cent of these stories dealt with some supernatural aspect of the war.
35. Clouds, by Walter L. Myers (The Midland). This remarkable study of place is one of the best stories so far produced in the literary revival throughout the Middle West which centres around the nucleus of The Midland. I wish that The Midland would publish a volume of stories selected from its columns during the last three years. Such a book would quickly earn a permanent place on our shelves.
36. Owen Carey, by Harvey J. O’Higgins (The Century Magazine). I believe this story to be the most distinguished in the series of imaginary American portraits that Mr. O’Higgins has been publishing during the past two years. These studies aim to take as a starting point the lives of men and women successful in many different fields, and to depict in each case the thing which may have seemed perfectly trivial at the time, but which actually proved to be the turning point in their careers. It is such an incident in the life of a successful romantic novelist which Mr. O’Higgins portrays in this story.
37. The Second-Rater, by James Oppenheim (Century Magazine). In this brilliant study of artistic temperament, Mr. Oppenheim portrays the spiritual struggle of an artist in such a way as to reveal the finer grain. The author has been clearly influenced by Henry James, but the texture of his story is a little loosely woven.
38. Unto Each His Crown, by Norma Patterson (The Bookman). This nervously written study of death in battle and the discovery it awakened is the work of a new writer who should have a brilliant future if my judgment does not betray me. Like Miss Moseley’s story, it is a study in the supernatural implications of the war. There is a proud joy in it which the reader will find infectious.
39. His Escape, by Will Payne (Saturday Evening Post). I regard this as the best newspaper story published in America since “The Stolen Story.” It has quick dramatic action, well stressed conflict, clean-cut characterization, and a thoroughly adequate conclusion. If the style is somewhat staccato, this is perhaps in harmony with the character of the story.
40. The Toast to Forty-Five, by William Dudley Pelley (Pictorial Review). Mr. Pelley has “the human touch.” His stories of Paris, Vermont, have a homely quality which never over-stresses the emotional values, even when it almost seems as if the author were going to sentimentalize them. No work could be more indigenous to the soil. Its very roughnesses are a product of environment. Though Mr. Pelley as yet entirely lacks style, there is a driving force within him which should finally shape a personal style in much the same manner as may be observed in the evolution of Irvin S. Cobb’s best work.