"I didn't ride the range and bust broncos to get the romance of the West," he said in a recent interview. "That is for Pullman and lounge lizards. I stayed there because I had to eat. On the range in Montana we sometimes spent from sixteen to eighteen hours in the saddle and rode four horses each day. Often the bedding was wet, the biscuits full of sand, the ropes and saddles frozen, and the horses had stiff little lumps in their backs. God! Those were tough days."

LeRoy Baldridge will probably object to our calling him a warrior, for he says he has no patience with the way civilization takes of settling disputes. But he is on the warpath for pacifism, which proves our point. From Boyd's writing and Baldridge's conversation it is evident that both hate war with an enduring hatred. In spite of this or, rather, because of this, both are most convincing when they portray it, as "Rintintin" and its illustrations show.

The artist is known to literally thousands of ex-service men by his drawings for The Stars and Stripes, the A. E. F. paper. He has seen war in all its forms and had the unique experience of going through Belgium with the German army in 1914. He did not return with any great horror at "German atrocities." He saw service with the French and was in every

American offensive. When the war was over, in order to get as far away from it as possible, he went to China-only to be there in the midst of the Korean troubles. He is now living in a French peasant cottage at Harmon-on-Hudson, where he thinks war will not penetrate soon.

Clarence Rowe avers that his family would think him thwarted in his career if they knew the facts.

"Years ago as a lad," he says, "I rolled out of a hammock on a hot summer's day with the remark that 'It was awful hard work to hold together.'

"My family held this to be the superlative of laziness. To them the remark is a classic. I have never lived it down. All through boyhood sympathy was extended me in my brave efforts merely to keep my body intact.

'Away out in Denver on the inksplashed and much bedrawn walls of the art room of The Rocky Mountain Times hangs a motto, 'Art is a means of avoiding hard work.' If my family ever saw that, it would explain to them instantly why I selected Art as a career.

"On that basis I have been sadly double-crossed, for Art is the most relentless of taskmasters."

The frontispiece and other illustrations for "The Apollo d'Oro" show that Mr. Rowe has borne up under his great disillusionment and demonstrate his theory that line work must have "the careless freedom of a beautiful girl's hair blowing about in a gentle breeze."

Captain Raymond Recouly, author of "Reconstruction in France," in this number, is one of the leading journalists of France. He is perhaps better known in this country as the famous "Captain X," under which nom de plume he published a number of articles in SCRIBNER'S during the War. He is now connected with the

Revue de France and expects to visit this country in the fall.

At last we have found a man in love with his job. Whiting Williams declares he would not trade places with any one just now, so optimistic is he with regard (Continued on page 9)

to the work he is doing. His job is to make the workman like his work, or the employer make the job agreeable to the workman. He is encouraged with the cooperation which he is receiving from large employers. Already between a quarter and a half million workers are reached by his efforts. He is dividing his time between study of the problem, teaching it in the business schools of Harvard and Dartmouth, and helping employers apply the principle.

Despatches from Europe in the daily papers indicate that the encouragement which he holds out in "Boycotting the Dollar," in this number, is justified by the results being achieved.

And here is another who writes for the pure love of it-Mark Van Doren, whose poem "Alfalfa Coming," in this number, is an example of his keen observation and his gift of phrasing. He is at present lecturing in Doctor Brander Matthews's undergraduate course at Columbia. Mr. Van Doren says he did not realize that he was so little a city man until he began to write poetry four years ago. Even though he was in Paris and enjoying himself thoroughly, his poem was of remembered things in the country.

Mr. Van Doren holds to the unique

is the novel, and is of the opinion that if Aristotle were writing his "Poetics" now he would deal exclusively with the novel. The writer likes long poems, but has never been able to write a good one, he says. Another indication of his love of nature is that his first book was a critical study of Thoreau. He has since written one on the poetry of John Dryden. Hs is a member of the reviewing staff of The Nation.

The other poet whose work appears in this number, Mrs. Grace Noll Crowell, writes: "I am pleased that you are going to use my 'Silver Poplars' in the April. number. It is really an April poem. I remember writing a poem called 'Waste Places.' I wrote it on one of the hottest days that a Texas August can produce. It seethed with lizards, cactus, and hot blazing sand-all gasping for air. It was intended for an August issue, but lo! the magazine that accepted it ran it in January. Almost I considered that a waste place.'

It may be, however, that there was method in this editor's madness. Perhaps he intended to give his readers a little warmth in the midst of a northern winter.

The poet is a resident of Dallas, Texas, and during the past year has won five poetry prizes in her State.

We leave the comment on William Lyon Phelps this month to a lone soldier in the Hawaiian Islands, which will be found in "What You Think about It" following Mr. Noyes's department.

Perhaps there are few who regard furniture as in the field of art. But Royal Cortissoz has put it there this month. The critic blasts the idea that quantity production is ruining everything. After all, one wonders why a piece of furniture should be regarded as beautiful merely because it is old. Better one beautiful piece of new furniture than a thousand of the horsehair sofa type. The remarkable example of co-operation between the museum and the factory as set forth in "The Field of Art" shows that the souls of all manufacturers are not dead to the appeal

of beauty-or that the souls of the consumers are not-which is the same thing.

When Cyrus H. K. Curtis bought the New York Evening Post, some time ago, it caused a stir in newspaper circles which has not subsided yet, even though it is superseded by Mr. Munsey's recent acquisition as the principal topic. Few, however, knew why the veteran publisher decided to enter the New York field. He explained it himself before an assemblage of newspaper men in Boston recently, according to Editor and Publisher. He bought it because of the exceptional financial department, developed under the direction of Alexander Dana Noyes, whose department, "The Financial Situation," in this magazine indicates the keenness of Mr. Curtis's judgment.