Evening star., 1925-04-12

kau's Life and Erica" is merely one
Of these formalized tales; not quite
up 10 this novelist's good mark.
either. Probably the theme needs
aerating, needs to lie idle out in the
sun a while.
THE BRONZE COLLAR. BY John
Kendrick. New York: G. p. Put
MANS Sons.
EXCELLENT romancer, John Kend-
IL rick, canny in the picking of time
and place for the business of good adven-
ture; not so far back as to set inter
est sound asleep and snoring; just far
enough instead to give to invention
the glamour of truth and the feel of
current kinship Here you find your
self in the Spanish province of Cali
fornia 100 years ago or thereabout.
Within this demesne the author has
gathered UP, first, the provincial gov
ernor, devoted heart and soul to the
political program of later enunciation
that to the victor belongs the spoils.
Next there is the rich ranchero with
miles of fat land to his account and
the cattle of a thousand hills and an
army of Indians degraded TO peonage
while their souls are hot volcanoes Of
hatred and revenge. This the ground
work, to which the author summons
Adventures of many stripes and
colors to carry on in the way of in
trigue and ruse bent to one end or
another-all quite plausible, or at
least possible, in that period of dis
covery and exploitation. Your inter
est will center, as il is meant to do,
on Ell Rojo, who, besides wearing a
red head, wears also a "bronze COL
lar" welded around his neck over in
Spain. A war trophy, Ell Rojo, out Of
the struggles along the Barbary
coast between Moor and Spaniard; Ell
Rojo upon the black horse, Sanduval,
and carrying in his hand a singing
blade La Cantante"-this is the fg-
ure that directs the adventure, some
times along ways that you in cool
blood may reject as fantastic. Luck
lily, however, for the story and it's
author, your blood will not be cool
in the reading OF this romance. So
you will go along in q mood of joyous
acceptance that for the moment puts
q heavy discount on mere consis-
tencies and plausibilities.
THE GATES OF MORNING. BY H.
de We're Stacpoole, author of The
Blue Lagoon" etc. New York:
Dodd, Mead & Co.
HAVING indubitably caught the mood
L L of those Pacific islands about which
so much in these latter years has
been said and sung, Mr.. Stacpoole
seems unwilling or unable to free
himself of the spell. Not a matter of
wonder. this, since under it's work
ings he has created three novels Of
peculiar charm. THE Gates of Morn
ing Is the best Of the three only in
one respect-it goes down TO the
tragic implication that rests within
the coming of the white race to these
natives of the Pacific. Otherwise it
is no more than the equal OF the
other two in its seizure of the beauty
of this region, in its appreciation of
it's many meanings, in its sympathy
with the native life and with the
gradual disappearance of that life.
The new story is bent directly upon
this fading existence under the con-
tact with the white trader and sailor
and adventurer. A grimly sad tale
from this point, and this is the point
that the author maintains through
out in his dramatic portrayal of a hand
full of natives struggling blindly and
hopelessiy against their obvious doom.
KIDDIDEARS OF THE LONG AGO.
BY Becky Tabor. Illustrated by
Ruth Elizabeth Collins. New
York: The Knickerbocker Press.
THERE is verv potent thing back
L of this book, back OF its delightful
pictures and its pretty dress, back of
the little verses that might in thought
and word have originated with the
children whom they represent and
whom they bring forward out from
the past into the ever-present period
of all childhood. There is behind this
booklet a woman who for many years
has been shut away from the world
of things that we able bodied folks
are free to go out and get This, how
ever, is not the main point. The great
thing of the moment is that the
woman didn't cry when she found out
what had hit her. Instead she sat up
and dug down inside herself till she
found her gift of charming little chill
dren to her side. And she used this
gift, picking the flowers of their
thoughts and fancies, picking them
with long and bending stems, arrang-
ing them with the colors just right
and the fragrance held fast. And this
Is the way that she found to do this
thing that nobody else has done--not
in her way-the thing that I am this
minute looking at with joy and a
touch OF envy and a rush of pride in
that modern parsonage, the good
sport"