_Resolved_, That each member of this Society shall be one of a committee to loan works of art to the poor and pledges himself or herself to place each week in the house of some poor family a picture or sculpture to be studied by such family, to be loaned such family for one week, in the hope of arousing in its members a love of the beautiful. ELEANOR GOULD MARTIN, Secretary. All this but the address line was printed. Below a form was filled in as follows: Names, _John Jones_. Residence, _Paradise Flats_. Picture, _Psyche, by Smith_. Owner, _Jane Hodges McVickar_. Date of Loan, _December 16, 1895_. Picture to be called for, _December 23, 1895_. “Papa,” said four-year-old Kit, as the card fell from the nerveless hand of John Jones, “I fought it was somefing good to eat.” * * * * * The Latest Revision tells after this fashion what followed the Trial in the Wilderness: “And when he had fasted forty days and forty nights he was afterward an-hungered.... And behold, angels came and patronized him.” WILLIAM MCINTOSH. A COMPLAINT OF SOME EDITORS. Yes, most potent seignors, a complaint! Persuade me not; I will make a star chamber matter of it. Which of us—humble and much enduring devotees of the Muse—having somehow got our song or sonnet accepted and in the course of years published, has not waxed wroth to find it mischievously meddled with, the trail of the editor’s blue pencil over all its printed lines? In prose editorial interference is exasperating enough. But in verse, where a comma misplaced, arbitrarily inserted or omitted, may change the whole meaning or effect of a pet phrase! And when the editor comes to manipulating words instead of punctuation marks, and juggling with rhymes even and with titles, what is to be said? What the author commonly says cannot be printed here. I once knew a poetaster who wrote a handful of little rhymes which he called rather happily after his own notion, “Songs of a Year,” and which in due time appeared in print. The editor, however, had thought “The Four Seasons” a more taking title. The poetaster disagreed with him, but it was too late. Another effort of this same unfortunate he protested tearfully that he could not recognize in its printed form except by the strawberry mark, that is, the signature; and he said he wished the editor had revised that, too, while he was about it. What is an editor? Is he omniscient? We know better. Are all the articles in his magazine supposed to bear the imprint of his ideas and style? When Mr. Howells, at an alleged salary of fifteen thousand a year, edited the _Cosmopolitan_ and wrote most of it himself—well, you remember.