Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1929-09-08

CYNTHIA Ffeer. ana you know exactly
with what a spirited hand Mrs. Rice
aids and abets this family prop through
the various slumpings and crumplings
of menace to the fetch that it holds
to so tenaciously. II that were all,
just supporting the limp household
through every manner Of weakness the
story would not be worth telling. Trust
Alice Hogan Rice. Here Is the slow
growth of individual loyalties to offset
the mass, loyalty to ones self, to those
outside the family wall, to friendships,
to ambitions. And, with the robust
cooperation of Cynthia Greer, Mrs. Rice
works out from everyday life a romance
of sane unSelflshness, broad under
standing, common interests. Works 1t
out in the fortnight and humorous way
that this writer has made good use of
ever since Mrs. Wigs" helped her to
turn a "cabbabe patch" into field
of joyous and helpful living. Fine story,
in both spirit and projection.
HIDE IN THE DARK. BY Frances
Noyes Hart, author of THE Bellamy
Trial" etc. New York: Doubleday,
Doran & Co.
over in Virginia not far from Wash
~ ington is an old manor house made
exactly, 1t would seem, for gay Hallow
eve gatherings. At any rate, there they
were, troop of them, at this particu-
lar time. The matter gets under way
with laughter and talk, with music and
swishing liquids whirled about in shiney
cans. with other foods and nourish-
ment for mind and body. A most at
tractive set of men and women-not
long married, the most Of them. Clever
folks at saying things, pertinent and
sometimes 1mpertinent. The women
are Of an almost devastating pulchri-
tude. The men are gallant and gay.
Mirth and wit are having right of way
at this particular house party. And
finally games begin, the iInmemorial
games of All Halloween. Great hurry
ing and scurrying here and there on
mysterious errands for which that old
house seems to have been made, with
its long passages and rooms hidden for
no one knows how long. The play is
fast and furious. A moment of dane
ing for interlude, another story or two,
and then again to the business Of cele-
brating this night of all saints. Then
comes the hide in the dark. Through
the black house all scatter to chosen
hiding places. And then the return to
the big living room, left so short time
before. But on the big divan there is
from this moment the story changes to
that of solving the mystery of Doug
Kings death. There he lay dead. Then
there comes something like an object
lesson in the analysis of crime, in the
pursuit OF the criminal. These people,
this house party, become at once a cor
porate band of sleuths, following clues
OF every possible pattern, abandoning
these in turn, accepting others, and so
on till by the process of elimination the
company stands with pretty dsmning
piece OF evidence In hand. All nice
folks, you know. All friends. No, some
one from the outside did not slip in
while the party was at its darkest
Nothing like that. Figure 1t out for
yourself, or, better yet, suppose you
read this story by Frances Moves Hart
OF Halloween party gone shockingly
and lamentably wrong.
BRIGHT INTERVALS. BY Nancy
Hoyt, author of Roundabout" etc.
New York: Alfred A. Knopf.
WAYWISE in its effect, this novel
wherever the ways may lead-to
London. Paris, New York, into mar
riage and out of it, into makeshifts OF
compensatory design. into fresh patti
terms OF daily interest and habit. And
! then-after the whole range Of a clever
woman's capability toward managing
life-the inevitable turn backward to
the 1mmemorial business of womankind
the world over throughout time There's
no use. 1t can't be done. Yet, what
gallant efforts are now and then made
by gifted writer's to give a semblance
OF actually. OF permanency, of results,
to these twistings and turnings of the
female trying to shirk her Job. Nancy
Hoyt has achieved distinctly here in
this direction. Oh, no, no, not in set
| Ting the matter. Nobody can do that
But, in the portrayal of what is now
known as the "emergent woman Miss
Hoyt and created and set upon her way
a woman of intelligence, beauty, origi-
nality and plain good sense. A COM
petent and flexible woman, at base,
using a background of substance to
promote independence for herself. A
charming woman as the best of them
today in reality are, charming in her
wit and adroitness in her seizure of
the essence of things, in her equal dis
regard for clutter of mere stun through
which most women try to make head
way. A calm woman in love. where it
used to be that tranquil love on the
lady's part was at least unbecoming
at most deeply mistrustful. A modern
tltc VI Will
gallantry and courage. The man? Bill
was just q man, but Lydia seemed to
like him. The romance, as such, savors
somewhat of smart set-but 1t Is
well done. That is, it is not overdone.
So, one reads the cleverneSs with q
just waking-up sensation, reads liking
the work of this alert young woman
taking a look at life from New York
and Paris and London from her own
outlook station. I came out of the
story with the notion that I, too, had
been somewhere.
ANOTHER PART OF THE WOOD. BY
Denis Mackail, author of "Greer-
cry Street." etc. Boston: Houghton,
Miff1in Co.
YOU can take this book without aI,y
l. sense of duty toward yourself ,,r
toward it. A blessed relief. No lesson
to be given you here. No social drifts
to analyze and condemn. no sins to
gloat over in secret and to condemn
from the housetop. Nothing like any
Of these. Instead, a handful OF young
folks. boys and girls. who are taking
life with gusto. heartily, as they should.
Here is a book of sheer gayety Not a
humorous book. which is another thing,
deadlier thing. Life, high spirits,
quick turns Of thought and speech,
meaty situations, sudden turns of de-
mand and responsibilities make up the
very human content of this story o.
Noodles and Snubs and Beaky. You
laugh at every turn, because each Of
the turns is truly laughable-and then
you stop smiling for minute to make
a little bow Of homage to this man,
this Denis Mackail, for the deep-see-
ING that he does for the frank recOR-
milton that he accords to youth, for the
hearty handshake of partaking that he
so spontaneously gives. Under the fun
here a book Of lovely understandings
and beautiful interpretations. Youth Is
forgotten, once 1t is past. but here Is q
man, a writer, who remembers 1t all
and enters into IL all