70: TO GORHAM MUNSON _Cleveland,_ _July 8th_ Dear Gorham: --/--/ The weather has been terrifically hot here, making action and thought alike impossible,--but I am slowly trying to labor out in the suitable style for _Shadowland_ an article on Ezra [Pound] which may bring me in a little money. This magazine is popular and in some ways becoming more interesting than _Vanity Fair_. I would like a foothold in it if it is possible. It seems evident enough that I have accomplished something in the estimation of the editors of _The D.D._ as they have incorporated me in their list of contributors on their stationery. I got word the other day that they will bring out my Anderson article in this July issue. I haven’t got my check yet but it ought to be twenty dollars or so. I have a query for you. What would you think of a play on or around the figure of John Brown? There is plenty of material, but the only trouble I see is the issue of slavery, North and South, etc., which might kill it. I am reading a fine biography of the man by Villard. As I am principally interested in this idea for mere commercial reasons the possibility of popularity is the largest factor. I tend to think the subject, in this light, too forbidding. -- -- -- -- I always seem to choose the wrong moment for my letters, when the ice-man is hammering at the door or the family is waiting to be driven to town, so my letters are more like bulletins and telegrams than anything else. Things pan out the same way when I start on an essay, article or poem,--but I hope for better days. --/--/ 71: TO GORHAM MUNSON _Cleveland_, _July 14th, ’21_ Dear Gorham: This is the kind of note I got yesterday from JH of _The Little Review_, returning some mss.,--“Found this as I was going through Mart’s files. She’s crazy. The drawings are fine but we haven’t any hope of printing them for ages, so I sent them back.--jh.” So it looks as though _The L.R._ was done for, and perhaps poor Mart. Doesn’t the way jh puts it makes you feel rather uneasy. I wish I knew more details,--whether it is a mere -- -- -- -- rumpus that is all the matter, or whether Mart Anderson has worn herself out in vain assaults against the decision against her in the Joyce trial. I wish I could get in touch with her direct, but as she hasn’t answered any letter for the last six weeks she probably cannot write. I happen to know from Mart’s friends too much inside information on the two women’s mutual relationships to feel certain of any direct truth about Mart from jh. If you hear anything about them or their plans please let me know. You know my admiration and (yes) affection for Margaret Anderson is very strong, and I detest nothing more than such a brutal squib as this thing that jh just sent. --/--/