But on some other points I cannot be quite so congratulatory. There is a good deal of adventurous spelling, and there is much distracted punctuation. Many of the miniatures are nearly large enough for family portraits.
And, while the stories are admirable skeletons, they seem—as skeletons are apt to prove in society—a little deficient in ease and grace, jerky and unpersuasive. Some, I am almost afraid, are rather dry, and even a little dull.
Girls, don't you think that, in dealing with a tale that was meant as a concession to the holiday spirit—a little interlude between more serious efforts—you might have accepted with less reserve the Editor's invitation to be bright?
And I should like to see you aiming at some distinction of style. Some of the stories reminded me of telegrams, some of strings of beads. Still, a good many are crisp and neat, and a few have quite a pretty touch.
The winner of the first prize, I must add, came very near to being disqualified on account of her sugared and beguiling words. On full reflection, however, her paper being much the best in point of sprightliness and verve, I decided, after making a conscientiously wry face, to absorb the saccharine matter. But, another time, she must not put bouquets on the judge's table.
With congratulations to many, and hearty thanks to all,
Ever most truly yours,
Frederick Langbridge.
⁂ Unfortunately we have no space for printing the first prize essays this month.—Ed.