Evening star., 1929-06-30
IDA GILBERT MYERS.

NfEISIdl, ~, -. n.
Edited by Bessie Rowland James.
svr1 Years Ts. asO r5i The T,6s TsdiO not
chine but nade-up adventure
/ by the wholly mythical Darius
Green. The automobile, a crazy
contraption, wobbling along the road
way to the terror of both horse and
man. A long time ago, 40 years-several
hundred years in effect.
Today everybody is on wheels-rich
man, poor man, beggar man, thief.
Ships sail the air, today, rounding the
earth from side to side, from top to
bottom. The radio brings immediate
worldwide contacts, even from the far
Antarctica itself, as If this were but a
suburb of the vast continental masses
to the north of 1t. Truly exploration is
not what 1t used to be. not what 1t
was only half century ago.
Surely, one would not IL he could
take away from the high glory of the
Byrds and the BennettS, from the
Pearys and Scots and Amundsens and
the rest. Yet, these are serving but to
round to climax the long, long story
that began with the old Greek navi-
gator, Pytheas, sailing northward in
quest of ths beckoning, and retreating
Ultima Thule. A thousand Argonauts
have sailed since then upon the same
quest and hundreds of JasonS have
peFished In their common challenge to
the frozen Poles. The PoleS-north and
South-have unrolled the most gorgeous
pageant of adventure, the most auda-
cious odyssey of heroism that the earth
has, SO far, been able to lure mere man
into under the promise of achievement
and glory through exploration and
discovery,
"The OUTPOST of the Lost" is one of
the innumerable chapters in the long
record of northern exploration. Forty
years ago, or thereabout, this expedition
headed northward under Gen. A. w
Greely. Today, but two survive that
experience. One of these is Gen. Greely
himself. The other is Gen. David
Brainard and 1t is he who here goes
back over the hard months of suffering
and uncertainty of that time in a very
definite and valuable contribution to
the surprising theme OF Polar explora-
ton.
Here is a personal record of actual
experience. It's keynote Is stark
simplicity. Here is thing that needs
no establishment. It, in itself, is
packed with substance of depth, with
interest that calls for no artificial
spur. So, in rugged fashion, Gen
Brainard goes back over the hard
months, over the deSolate outlook. And
all those black days this young Brain
ard, sergeant, I'd Cavalry, kept a diary
Stubs OF pencil, scraps. odds and ends
of paper served the purpose OF setting
down scrawls about hard work and
hunger, about sleepless nights. about
days spent in trying to make some
slight headway against the implacable
cold and ice. The daily record tells OF
the scanty advance, the certain re-
treat. 1t tells of starvation, OF death
not for q day, not for q month, but foI
months on end, with the hopes of res
cue fading away in despair and desper-
alton. But-rescue did come, finally
to the mere handful of those who sur
vived. And, gathering up. those notes
them to readers as an authentic report
in the great business of northern dis
covery. There is no more poignant
part to this record than the map that
lines the lids of the book. Here one
sees the course Of the advances and
retreats that were made. One sees also
legends of this sort: "Thirty-four days
adrift on floating ice," FIRST year relief
ship turned back" eight months or
two months ration, 18 dead-Pvt. Henry
executed for stealing food" second year
from point to point throughout the
map. Third rescue ship found Lieut.
Greely and six men alive eating theil
shoes" A gruesome map, yet one oi
tho most vivid parts of the story as 9
whole. A list of the members OF the
expedition shows them to have beer
drawn from the Signal Corps, the Cav
airy. the Artillery. the Infantry, the
general service. A surgeon and the Es-
kimo dog drivers complete the mar
power of the expedition. A warm "Salu-
tation" by Gen. Greely to Gen. Brain
ard opens this remarkable story OF per-
sonal heroism on the part of this group
as II indicates also the high quality oi
the story itself in its rugged drama, In
Its unpretentious delivery OF really
great matter. This record has very
definite place as one of the approaches
to the work of exploration that Is being
done today along the outposts OF the
earth itself.
PRECIOUS BANE. BY Mary Webb
author of Armour Wherein HI
Trusted" etc. New York: E. p. Dut.
ton a. Co.
A NOVEL of ineffable beauty where
in nothing at all happens, wherein
nevertheless, the whole of life lies. 81
If to you action. change. more actor
and more change are the measure OF
the story do not stop here. There Il
nothing for you here. II, on the othel
hand, you open out toward the wistfu
reminiscent loveliness of old place.
STEPPED in a thousand elusive mean
ingS and impreSSions-why, in tina
case, sit down beside this "Preciou!
Bane." Only the daily things of I
country corner of England come ou
before you here Old things, forgotten
things, soaked for centuries into thu
soil, reappearing to give glamour to th'
the low murmur of many pastS-onl,
these are here. only these and the com
mon life of the simple people round
about.
ITO conjure even for a moment tn,
wistfulness which Is the past is likI
trying to gather In ones arms the by
acinthine color Of the distance. But i
1t is once achieved, what sweetness
The vivid present. how faint it grows
We are tomorrow'S past. Shrop
shire Is county where the dignity ant
beauty of ancient things linger long
and I have been fortunate not only II
being born and brought up in its mag
ical atmosphere but In having man.
friends in farm and cottage"-and 1t i
of these, Gin farm and cottage" tina
Precious Bane" has to do. Yet, it
not the story. not so much the story
1t Is the mood of beauty in which th
story is stepped that counts with TIN
reader-that counts with the reader
provided only that his own spirit 4
open and in tune to the deep persona
probings that lie in this revelation o
the spirit of Shropshire. II thank yo'
u, klas~ ~ Ill
| ing word Of Hon. Stanley Baldwin in I
letter to Mary Webb for her re-crea
ton Of his own old quarter Of England
in so much of love and intimacy ant
sheer artistry.
y \ y
A TALE OF BRITTANY. BY Pierre