_In the Midst of Life_ and _Can Such Things Be?_ by _Ambrose Bierce_ (Boni & Liveright). To an Englishman, the lack of familiarity we show with Ambrose Bierce’s stories is a mystery. If he were asked to mention our foremost short story writers, he would think of Poe, Hawthorne, Harte, O. Henry, and Bierce. Yet the name of Ambrose Bierce is almost unknown in this country. His publishers are to be congratulated on the critical acumen that prompted them to reissue Bierce’s stories in a new popular edition. No writer, with the possible exceptions of Stephen Crane and Henri Barbusse, has written of war with more passionate vividness. Such stories as “The Horseman in the Sky,” “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge,” and “Chickamauga” are among the best stories ever written by an American, and in the field of the macabre Bierce at his best is very nearly the equal of Poe. I suppose that “In the Midst of Life” is the better volume, but “Can Such Things Be?” almost rivals it in interest. _Helen of Troy_, and _Rose_, by _Phyllis Bottome_ (The Century Company). These two novelettes are studies in national and temperamental contrasts. Their deft characterization, subtle humor, and sense of place entitle them to a place beside the best novels of Ethel Sidgwick. They reveal a disciplined sense of poetry and a tolerance of outlook which spring from an older background than most American work. _The Flying Teuton and Other Stories_, by _Alice Brown_ (The Macmillan Company). Last year I had occasion to express my belief that “The Flying Teuton” was the best short story that had been inspired by the war up to that time. It comes to us now in book form with a collection of Miss Brown’s other stories of war and peace, revealing the old qualities of courage, imagination, poetry, and dramatic irony which we have come to associate with the name of Miss Brown. I regard the book as her most satisfying contribution to the short story since “Meadow Sweet.” _John O’May_, by _Maxwell Struthers Burt_ (Charles Scribner’s Sons). The wish which I expressed last year that Mr. Burt’s stories should be collected in book form is now gratified by the appearance of this volume. It is one of the few indispensable collections of the year by an American author, and gives Mr. Burt a place among American short story writers beside that of Mrs. Gerould, Wilbur Daniel Steele, H. G. Dwight, and Charles Caldwell Dobie. Few writers have a more thoughtful technique or a more unerring sense of dramatic values.