We said: “The sun’s gone, it is dusk, the full moon tops that giant spruce.” We said: “Our lips launch clouds, the snow’s cold crunch is brittle.” “In dusk’s rinsed blue and moon’s rinsed glacial light this forest hour,” we said, “has the vast dream-stillness of our shadows.” “That delicate swift stipple of wild paws on snow, the ferns asleep, the moss, the sleeping birch and ash, the sleep of chipmunks and the starlings’ sleep!” we said, hushed as the haze of frost. James Daly has had both poetry and prose published in magazines, and has worked in steel mills, taught school, directed and acte
Some time ago Mr. Louis Adamic contributed to The Saturday Review of Literature a curious article called “What the Proletariat Reads”—curious because in spite of its title and subtitle, “Conclusions Based on a Year’s Study of Hundreds ofWorkers Throughout the United States,” it had nothing whatever to do with what the proletariat reads. In fact, it was all about what the proletariat does not read, and since there are many books the proletariat does not read, has never heard of and does not give a damn about, it is obvious that Mr.
Public opinion, which once upon a time was only a symbolic figure in cartoons, has become a valuable commercial property. The banners and buttons of World War propaganda showed, as one writer has explained, “the possibilities of molding public opinion toward an objective. Its success convinced leaders how vital it is to gauge public reaction to ideas or products; how necessary it is to get public support.” And big business, having learned the technique of selling its products, is now trying to sell itself.
Whitehall has just witnessed an unusual meeting between British and German naval officers. With the utmost good nature they have fixed the tonnage with which each of them shall enter the next world war. For every hundred tons that the British launch as targets for German shells and torpedoes, the Germans shall have thirty-five tons, charged with all the instruments of destruction that civilization has devised.
Mr. Upton Sinclair, in his open letter to President Roosevelt published in a recent issue of The New Republic, again raises a question that has received much consideration in various quarters—the possibility of instituting a program of self-help for the unemployed. Dramatized by Mr.
This is a bad season for those who still believe that international agreements, among nations constituted as at present, can prevent war. Let us look for a moment at the Italian-Ethiopian situation as an example. Italy and Ethiopia are both members in good standing of the League of Nations. As such they have made a solemn covenant to settle their disputes peaceably and to join in sanctions against any nation that declines to submit to such peaceable adjustment.
The President took a thorough beating from the House of Representatives when by a large majority it rejected his earnest plea to pass the bill abolishing public-utility holding companies. His only hope in the matter is now that the Senate will favor this clause—though if it does so, the margin can hardly be more than two or three votes—and that while the difference is being adjusted in conference an investigation of utility lobbying will bring to time the recalcitrant Democrats in the House.
Usual crowd was moving up and down the streets. The leafless trees in the city square, with a faith not given to human beings, remembered spring. But spring in Iowa comes and then it doesn't. One day it is warm and the next day it is cold. The trees pay no attention to this. The crowds get used to it. People walked around the square. A small crowd, a sort of overflow, came out of the cigar store across from the square and looked around for the loafer's sun. At one corner of the square was a public toilet and here an uneven stream of farmers and townsfolk came and went.