If you believe, with Chesterton, that "should the snap dragon open its little pollened mouth and sing 'twould be no more wonderful a thing" than that a solemn little blue egg should turn into a big happy red-breasted bird; if you are of "the young men that dream dreams" or of "the old men who have visions" the songs and the tales and the wanderings and the mysteries of "Red" Owen Hanrahan will thrill you with a sense of your real nearness to "something lovelier than Heaven." Such a group of tales of the people and by the people as Mr. Yeats has gathered together in Red Hanrahan can be nothing if not a personal matter. Frankly, I never saw a fairy, or a gnome, or a hobgoblin. I have never even had a vision worth writing a book about; but I am young yet, and if the gods continue to be kind.... In the meanwhile I shall grasp the first opportunity to read Red Hanrahan in a deep woods, at dusk--regardless of the optician's orders. H. B. S. To William Butler Yeats MARGUERITE O. B. WILKINSON As one, who, wandering down a squalid street, Where dingy buildings crowd each other high, Where all who pass have need to hurry by, Saddened and parched and fighting through the heat, Comes suddenly where pain and beauty meet, And sees a stretch of fair, unsullied sky, Covering a field of clover bloom, so I, With heart prepared to find the contrast sweet In seeking through a world of sordid prose, Where use-stained words with huddled shoulders stand In sullen, monumental, loveless rows, Have found a sudden green and sunny land Where you, O Poet, give us back lost wonder, Leisure, sweet fields, clean skies to travel under! Sentence Reviews [Inclusion in this category does not preclude a more extended notice.] The Titan, by Theodore Dreiser [John Lane Company, New York], will be reviewed at length in the July issue. Clay and Fire, by Layton Crippen. [Henry Holt and Company, New York.] A provocative philosophical discussion of the basal problem of religion by an author who treats pessimism according to the homeopathic principle. Reasonable hopes are made to seem hopeless. A morbid retrospectiveness may, however, force thought into light, and the book leaves one in a strange illumination effected by spiritual fire.