To come down to brass tacks, as the saying is, the flagrant case of cruelty to Asterisks, to which I refer, consists of a fat book, called “The Best Short Stories of 1921.” Edited by Edward J. O’Brien—Published by Small Maynard. Never, I think, were a mob of overworked employees so pitifully huddled together in an ill-ventilated factory as are the Asterisks in this Sweatshop of Twaddle. The Sweatshop proper—if a Sweatshop may be so qualified—is situated in the rear of the book, occupying about a fifth of its volume, and consists of: A Bibliographical Roll of Honor of American Short Stories for 1920 and 1921 in which “_the best stories are indicated by an Asterisk_.” A Roll of Honor of Foreign Short Stories in American Magazines in which “_Stories of special excellence are indicated by an Asterisk_.” Volumes of short stories published in the United States. “_An Asterisk before a title indicates distinction._” Volumes of short stories published in England and Ireland. “_An Asterisk before a title indicates distinction._” Volumes of Short Stories published in France. “_An Asterisk before a title, etc._” Follows then a list of articles on the Short Story and last of all An Index of Short Stories in Books, and here the Asterisks are forced to work overtime and Mr. O’Brien’s English gets a bit sloppy. He says: “_Three Asterisks prefixed to a title indicate_ the more or less permanent _literary value of the story_.” “More or less permanent” reminds me of an advertisement I once saw in a street car: “Face Powder makes your complexion _more irresistible_.” Is it possible that Mr. O’Brien wrote it? In the division entitled Magazine Averages, Mr. O’Brien comes another cropper with “_Three Asterisk stories are of_ somewhat permanent _literary value_.” Again, in the introduction, “_Sherwood Anderson has made this year once more the_ most permanent _contribution to the American Short Story_.” Mr. O’Brien’s invention of varying degrees of permanence is an important contribution to science and entitles him to receive at the very least the Order of the Golden Asterisk of the Second Class with Palms. * * * * * Such, in brief, is the Sweatshop in the rear where the toiling Asterisks labor in weary shifts of one, two and three, pounding out asinine averages and percentages of permanency and near-permanency and plu-permanency with a zeal that would do credit to the framer of a Volstead Act. Now let us walk round to the front of the Factory, where in his cosy business office which he calls the “Introduction” the Foreman of the works, Mr. Edward J. O’Brien, will tell us in the airy argon of the shop all about the Fictional Flivvers—in which he is a second-hand dealer—how they are made, what they are worth and, if permanent, just how long their permanence will last.