The New York herald. [volume] (New York, N.Y.) 1920-1924, 1920-11-14
ABOUT A U TIL 0 RS
Hugh Walpole Might Be a Tennis
PLAYER, Liberal or Naval Officer

reader of his-at least one-there rise pic
lures of her own making that have to do
with her own environment as she reads his
pictures of lands that are not hers OF
should he not be pleased? Is IL not because
he is drawing truly that as he places be-
fore our eyes the long frozen stretches
of the Neva, 1. too, grow cold, but the pic
ture before me Is not the Neva but myself
lighting down Michigan avenue when the
wind is from the lake and the long lines
of light are like frozen minor consultations.
l am afraid 1t is the same with his char
acters don't remember much about the lit
tie boy of The Golden Scarecrow nor OF the
old man who passed away in the first chap
ter 1.-THE thing is" as May Wilson Preston
always says, the thing is that before the
old man died he took off his hat to the
scarecrow, which from a certain angle he
had mistaken for knight In shining armor,
and he said to the shabby, Hopping creature;
You were very fine / shall not forget"
How many hundreds of times have said that
10 myself What does It matter-now-what
a bundle of rags on a stick were those crea-
lures who crossed our lives In early days?
Once from our angle. we saw them gleam-
ing in the sun like King Arthur's men.
Arabella's Adventures.
l have friend, Arabella, who was much
impressed when told her this story. Ara
bella always comes to just after
she has given up waiting by the tele-
phone it is a very definite step toward
cardiac reconstruction. this admitting that
he is not going to call up. After a while,
when she is at the liveliest stage of the new
telephone complication, when the new one
is calling up regularly. she can look back
upon the earlier disconnections and take
pleasure that they were shining knights once.
The only trouble with the symbol, however.
is the difficulty of explaining 1T when they
meet again Arabella says they like awfully
to be thought Launcelots, but as soon as she
tells them (gently) It's quite all right dear
friend it's what you were to me THEN that
counts, 1t holds small weight with me that
you are really just scarecrow," that they
get peevish, and the friendship sort of dies.
Arabella deplores this complete severing OF
earthly ties with her young men. She does
not see that her application Of the figure
evens the score could no method of her
own devising. "A scarecrow," they must NUT
ter, as they leap away. And again In the
night, turning over; "A scarecrow!"
The pictures crowd thick in the authors
latest story of THE Captives'-I think II
may be so with other Americans, for many
of us were chapelgoers, and those with whom
l am contemporary knew the ugliness OF
tight silent living, horsehair furniture and
the smell of oil lamps. Some of us rebelled-
and here we are! And parenthetically, ]
ask, and where is that? Well II isn't much.
but its sdelights, anyway, and the golden
oak covered by draperies and the tops o.
the horrible mantes taken off. But Walpoe
is right: our religion is with us, and as we
grow, oh, very old, take a sort of pride
In It, There is something decent about It's
grim claim on us. But never for an instant
in our formative period did 1t live up to those
promises that were made to us when we
trailed our white robes (very conscious of
toe nails, as was MARTINI toward the baptis-
NAL font
A Distinguished Baptism
My baptism, l think I may say was a
little more distinguished than the leading
captive of the Walpole tale. To be sure Mar
tin was the minister's son, but l was one
of cohort of little girl converts whose ranks
boosted the minister's daughter (Strange!
We found ourselves playing In the same
company last year and were two weeks rec
ognizing each other!) IL is quite fitting
that she should have gone on the stage, as
she committed a social error even in the
baptistry. When it came time for her INNER
sion her father, faithfully pursuing the
meagre ceremonial, asked the name. It dis
tressed Mary. Don't you know me, papa ."
bleated out the minister's daughter. What
II occasoned! Should a been practsed."
said the elders.
Nagged into II some of us were as Mar
tin probably was as Maggie feared TO be
100 shy 10 rise Wnen we were asked 10 give
our childish testimony as to our affection
for a menacing Creator; too anguished to
remain seated while the choir walled in our
baby ears, TOO latel too late! We cannot
enter now" Yes. il was better to get hap
tized and have II over with--and wriggle our
nose at the abashed devil
For as Walpole writes Of young War
lock; What happiness followed! God had
chosen him. and there he was forever and
forever safe and happV.'
l went over that page number Of times
"Safe--and happy" Happy-and safe? Do
the two go together should they not?
That was what made my bed light grow
aim for n little until the sensation came TO
old. tired. wise late.
How sure were we went dripping
from the water that there would be no
more struggles OF the soul or of the body
How outraged were we when found that
they had just begun. Begun for Martin
and for me; for bleary Uncle Mathew and
square Maggie-who OF course had been
but sprinkled into salvation. What a Joke
IL has been on all OF u.s. Walpole could
have safely generalized In his novel. Cap
tlves All" he could have captioned It.
Books by the Pound.
/ will not go into the story nor dwell
upon his skill in presenting TO our reading
eyes homely, shapeess GIRL then making
her grow beautiful In our hearts The book
is fresh upon the counters. full measure
pressed down and running over. Once We
dreaded tho thick English noyei now az