I think well of these two manuscripts, but doubt if you can get them into any of our magazines--if you want to. As to that, nobody can help you. About the only good quality that a magazine editor commonly has is his firm reliance on the infallibility of his own judgment. It is an honest error, and it enables him to mull through somehow with a certain kind of consistency. The only way to get a footing with him is to send him what you think he wants, not what you think he ought to want--and keep sending. But perhaps you do not care for the magazines. I note a great improvement in your style--probably no more than was to be expected of your better age, but a distinct improvement. It is a matter of regret with me that I have not the training of you; we should see what would come of it. You certainly have no reason for discouragement. But if you are to be a writer you must "cut out" the dances and the teas (a little of the theater may be allowed) and _work_ right heartily. The way of the good writer is no primrose path. No, I have not read the poems of Service. What do I think of Edith Wharton? Just what Pollard thought--see _Their Day in Court_, which I think you have. I fear you have the wanderlust incurably. I never had it bad, and have less of it now than ever before. I shall not see California again. My love to all your family goes with this, and to you all that you will have. AMBROSE BIERCE. [The Army and Navy Club, Washington, D. C., May 22, 1913.] EDITOR "LANTERN",[17] [17] The editor was Curtis J. Kirch ("Guido Bruno") and the weekly had a brief career in Chicago. It was the forerunner of the many Bruno weeklies and monthlies, later published from other cities. Will I tell you what I think of your magazine? Sure I will. It has thirty-six pages of reading matter. Seventeen are given to the biography of a musician,--German, dead. Four to the mother of a theologian,--German, peasant-wench, dead. (The mag. is published in America, to-day.) Five pages about Eugene Field's ancestors. All dead. 17 + 4 + 5 = 26. 36 - 26 = 10. Two pages about Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Three-fourths page about a bad poet and his indifference to--German. Two pages of his poetry. 2 + 3/4 + 2 = 4-3/4. 10 - 4-3/4 = 5-1/4. Not enough to criticise. What your magazine needs is an editor--presumably older, preferably American, and indubitably alive. At least awake. It is your inning. Sincerely yours, AMBROSE BIERCE. [Washington, D. C., May 31, 1913.] MY DEAR LORA, You were so long in replying to my letter of the century before last, and as your letter is not really a reply to anything in mine, that I fancy you did not get it. I don't recollect, for example, that you ever acknowledged receipt of little pictures of myself, though maybe you did--I only hope you got them. The photographs that you send are very interesting. One of them makes me thirsty--the one of that fountainhead of good booze, your kitchen sink.