The sun., 1918-09-22
By DOROTHY SCARBOROUGH.

TINE stories in Free, Theodore Drei-
i ser's first volume Of short stories,
are cleveny written and are interesting
from the standpoint Of psychology, but
they are unsatisfying. The style is that
Of an artist in some of the stories ut
least, and the insight into human nature is
searching and revealing. Yet the effect
of the book as a whole is Oppressive. The
reader does not feel spiritually enriched
by the reading.
There is too much that is morbid in sit
uation and too much that is sordid in char
acter. There is overmuch grayness of soul
and of destiny, unreIieved by beauty. You
feel that among the number of characters
Dresser has here pictured there should
surely be al least few who are noble,
who rightly win your respect. Even in a
muddy gutter one may see the stars re-
fected. But the only character for whom
the reader is likely to feel genuine respect
Is an ignorant old man who has lost his
mind.
Some Married People.
Interesting and contrasted studies of
marriage are shown IN these stories The
Lost Phoebe, the most appealing, though
not the most skiifully written narrative
In the volume is record of two simple
country people, a man and his wife, who
love each other in a sincere fashion In
spite of their erankiness and amiable bick-
ering. The husband cannot believe that
Phebe would leave him, even after her
death, so that his love watches for her re-
turn, >glimpses her at times in her accus-
toned places and sends him wandering
over the country in a search for her.
This story is more humanity touching
than anv + he volume. These old people
seem a, aai and lovable, and theirs is
real marriage We see the witless old man
as he is lost in the woods at night in his
search for PbGbe.
A Babe in the Woods.
He fell asleep after a time. bis head
On his knees. At midnight the moon be-
gan to rise and at 2 in the morning, his
wakeful hour, was large silver disk SHIN
ing through the trees to the east. He
opened his eyes when the radiance be-
came strong, making silver pattern at
his feet and lighting the woods with
strange lustres and silvery,- shadowy
forms. As usual his old notion that his
wife was near occurred TO him and he
looked about with speculative, anticipa-
tory eye. What was it that moved in the
distant shadows along the path by which
he had entered-a pale, Pickering will
o. the wisp that bodied gracefully among
the trees! Was it truly his lost PhGbe'
On she moved before him, will
o. the wisp of spring, little fame above
her head, and it seemed as though among
the small saphngs of ash and beech and
the thick trunks of hickory and elm that
she sigualled with young. lightsome
hand.
"'0h. Phqbe, Pheber he called
'Have yuh really comet Have yuh really
answered mee And hurrying faster he
fell once, scrambling lsmely to his feet,
only 10 see the light in the distance
dancing ilIusively on. On and on he hur-
ried until he was fairly spent running,
brushing his ragged arms against the
trees, striking his hands and face against
impeding twigs. His hat was gone, his
reason quite astray, when, coming to the
edge Of the cliff, he saw her below among
a siiVery bed of apple trees now bloom
ing in the spring.
"'Oh, Phrber he called. 'Oh, PhGbe,