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youth. A bit cynical; that again is youth, in its wisdom. But there is literary soundness, there is freshness, there is strength.

And in the September number appears Yossef Gaer, whom we of the West know as a poet, an associate in the unique quarterly Four, with the splendidly strong "Sketches of Yanovke." Prose, these sketches, but strong as an epic and as splendidly beautiful. Gaer will not long be held in the West.

HE POETRY EDITOR is always interested

when he runs across the name of an Overland contributor in some other periodical. A belated copy of Voices (July) brings Lilian White Spencer in a striking sonnet. Miss White, by the way, has appeared in not a few of the higher class magazines of late.

NINE POINTS IN THE LAW (Continued From Page 465)

to very much extry trouble," she added as he somewhat bashfully entered the house, "but by the time you've hung your hat up and washed your hands and brushed your hair a bit, there'll be the kind of a meal on the table that a man and a woman that's gettin' older every day of their lives and need good, nourishin' food ought to set down to!"


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you left it and the lilacs you set out in the yard are in bloom."

The woman's face lost some of its hardness. She smiled, almost wistfully. "The lilacs, I'll see them again-" Tears trembled on her lashes-"And my boy. God! how I've wanted my boy-" Suddenly she remembered the girl in the tent. "Tom! What will he say to her?"

"He mustn't know!" cried Crowfoot.

"He needn't know," the woman added. "Thelma came with you to find-me."

"And"-she looked into his vaguely puzzled eyes-"I want you to know that the girl isn't-bad; only weak, only foolishly tired of the monotony of the small town-just as I was."

Crowfoot's lips moved and his face contorted with the effort to voice the thought:

"I then it wasn't-they said I looked like a sturgeon-"

The woman looked at him a moment, puzzled; then brushed the remark aside as she looked out across the hot, dusty field:

"The lilacs," she said. "The lilacsand the cool river-I'll be glad to rest."

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You Can Ride the Air?

For years Short Story Writing has been successfully taught. Many of those who now find ready market for their stories learned the art through correspondence. Why take years when a few months of our individual instruction will bring you to the goal?

We offer to QVERLAND readers the opportunity to study Short Story Writing by a personal method that insures to each student the aid of specialists in developing that individual student's possibilities. You are taught, individually. You do not merely prepare papers which are checked and returned. Your instructor reads your work sympathetically, then advises you, helps you re-write, helps you build a salable story and HELPS YOU SELL. To writers of Western Stories - and none are more popular - the possibilities of this course are enhanced by the fact that every lesson will be graded by one who has travelled in the Westone who knows it, and can reach you a helping hand in fact and atmosphere. Lesson sheets, reference and study books are furnished without additional charge. Tuition is payable monthly.

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the mosquitoes were so forcefully persistent that I was obliged to leave after the second act.

Nor is opera at Ravina "for the people." To reach there from the city a student must de vote six hours of time, at a cost of not less than $3.65 if by train. The autoist must spend as much in time and more in money; truly no price to insure the continued attendance of the common folk. Mr. Eckstein is sufficiently wealthy to disregard, if he desires, his North Shore guarantors. But to be logical he must include train or carfare and reduce the price of his tickets to popular rates. Then, and then only, can his or any other opera company be for the people.

A good stock company, with or without stars, playing at reasonable prices, will develop the musical art of this country, as it has that of Europe. Then we need not leave our land to find our artists. With the sympathy and understanding of the public, with the good will of the artist, even without the wealth of the country, the future of American Art will be assured. It is a matter for America and Americans to decide. Americans can decide it-and they must. If they do not settle it in favor of their country, then my art and the art of all other musicians has been struggled for in vain. We may withdraw and leave Art AUX AUTRES.


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steamer "Lospanna," landing at the then Russian trading post of Fort Ross. Going on to Sutter's Fort where he remained for a short time, he then went on to San Francisco, and thence to San Jose. In the spring of the next year he built one of the first saw mills

some say the first-in the state, which he exchanged some time later for 100 mules.

And so that prosaic industry of today which, at civilization's call, annually denudes countless acres of forest land, has its romantic past. Buried in the tangle of second growth along many a mountain stream the traveller of unfrequented ways may stumble over the tottering beams which once upheld a busy mill. And if he search -he may find thereabouts a gray old pioneer who will unfold to him many an interesting tale of the days when the virgin forest fell before the crude. methods of the early lumbermen.


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quired for the people through these various gifts, the Save The Redwoods League has received contributions from tree lovers in many parts of the country and more than 5,000 men and women have taken memberships in the organization. Funds from

these sources will be utilized toward the purchase of other menaced groves.

All that the League has been able to accomplish thus far is of course only a start. Every day more of the finest forests are disappearing. The Save The Redwoods League believes that if the people of the United States could see the unsurpassed beauty of a virgin Redwood forest-then view the desolation after it has been cut, they would never rest until a large representative area of these trees had been saved. The task is largely one of education.


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is a familiar one to readers of poetry journals.


M. L. MERTENS is a prolific producer, with seven books of verse to his credit. The Indian songs given in this number are, so Mr. Mertens tells us, from a forth-coming epic containing 8,000 lines called "The Blue God," dealing with prehistoric man in America, especially the cliff-dwellers located at Mesa Verde. Ethnologically the assumption is taken that the Zunis and Hopis are direct decendants from the original cliff-dwellers, so that their legends are used as a basis, and these songs are from such Zuni and Hopi legends. The epic has been

writing five years."

GAZELLE STEVENS SHARP is a member of the graduating class of 1879 of Cornell College, Mt. Vernon, Iowa. She says, "My father was a Congregational minister, my mother an ideal minister's wife. I inherited from her the "desire to write" which I used for a number of years for the most part in true stories for children. Later I tried poetry, and enjoy it very much." Mrs. Sharp has published a volume of verse, "A Little Patch o' Blue."

MARGARET SKAVLAN had all too brief introduction last month. Let it be said further, then, that she was born in Madison, Nebraska, in 1903. Now a resident of Eugene, Oregon, she will graduate from the University of Oregon school of journalism with the class of 1925. Her work in poetry has received wide recognition. In the Ward-Belmont poetry contest for undergraduates in the colleges of the United States, her poem "Interment" tied for second place, and was published in the Fugitive (October, 1923.) In the national undergraduate contest conducted this year by the Southern Methodist university, Miss Skavlan's entry won honorable mention, and she was close runner-up in the recent contest for the "Circuit Rider" prize for Oregon writers. This young writer is working her way through college as a newspaper reporter.


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Keeping the Telephone Alive

Americans have learned to depend on the telephone, in fair weather or in foul, for the usual affairs of the day or for the dire emergency in the dead of night. Its continuous service is taken as a matter of course.

The marvel of it is that the millions of thread-like wires are kept alive and ready to vibrate at one's slightest breath. A few drops of water in a cable, a faulty connection in the wire maze of a switchboard, a violent sleet, rain or wind storm or the mere falling of a branch will often jeopardize the service.

Every channel for the speech currents must be kept electrically intact. The task is as endless as housekeeping. Inspection of apparatus, equipment and all parts of the plant is going on all the time. Wire chiefs at "test boards" locate trouble on the wires though miles away. Repairmen, the "trouble hunters," are at work constantly wherever they are needed in city streets, country roads or in the seldom-trodden trails of the wilderness.

Providing telephone service for this great nation is a huge undertaking. To keep this vast mechanism always electrically alive and dependable is the unending task of tens of thousands of skillful men and women in every state in the Union.

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ETHEL COTTON, whose prize winning "first" story apears in this issue, is a Californian, and a San Franciscan. Miss Cotton-outside her professional work, by the way, she is Mrs. Wm. E. Monahan-is a dramatic reader and teacher. She has published a volume of verse.

MARGUERITE NORRIS DAVIS is Chicago-born, but now a resident of Portland, Oregon. She's a writer of feature stories, she says, ". . . although I have had some children's verse and fiction published. The latter are written for the amusement of my seven-year-old son, who, with his Daddy, make up my little world."

JOY and CLAIRE GERBAULET are of the younger verse writers, combining a sound basic knowledge of the older forms of verse with that fresh viewpoint which belongs to youth. Closely associated in their work, these sisters are now widely separated; the former a resident of Berkeley, while the other-now Claire Gerbaulet Malone is a resident of Cuba. Among their achievements is the winning of the Emily Chamberlain Cook Poetry Prize, of the University of California, for 1923.


B. VIRGINIA LEE-well, Overland's editor accused Miss Lee of being a schoolma'am, a charge she indignantly denies. She says I've written for several magazines and my first stories were published in OVERLAND long, long ago. What I've done mostly is M. P. work, recently being associated with Harry Chandler in New York, editing and titling film and doing continuities. . . . I was a student of the late W. C. Morrow of San Francisco and attended Cora L. Williams Creative and Art Institute in the years 'way back.' I've lived 24 years nearly-and they've been years just chucked full of living.' . . . I'm an ordinary modern girl, with the modern girl's aspirations and ideas, with an overabundance of real estate comprised of air castles."

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