conceits; and deserves to be ranked amongst the choicest of recent
amateur offerings. "Girls are Like Gold," by Paul J. Campbell, is a
striking and witty adaptation of Thomas Hood's celebrated lines on

"Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold!
Bright and yellow, hard and cold."

Mr. Campbell exhibits both ingenuity and metrical ability in this facile
=jeu d'esprit=.

* * * * *

THE UNITED AMATEUR for March contains "Love's Scarlet Roses," an
exquisite piece of lyric verse by Mary Henrietta Lehr of California.
Miss Lehr, a scholar and poetic genius of high order, is a prominent
amateur of a few years ago, lately returned to activity after a period
of endeavour in other fields. Her verse is uniformly distinguished by
depth of inspiration, delicacy of sentiment, and grace of structure;
occupying a place amongst the rarest products of amateurdom. Another
poem of remarkable merit in this issue is "The Gods' Return," by Olive
G. Owen. Inspired by a recent article from the pen of Richard Le
Gallienne, these well-wrought lines interpret one of the subtlest yet
most potent of the varied moods created in the human breast by the
momentous occurrences of the age. Looking over the file of THE UNITED
AMATEUR for the present administrative year, one may discover a diverse
and meritorious array of poetry and prose, which amply proves the
contention of Pres. Campbell that a literary official organ is not only
feasible but eminently desirable.

* * * * *

=The Woodbee= for January introduces to amateurdom a new bard, Mr. J.
Morris Widdows, Hoosier exponent of rural simplicity. Mr. Widdows has
enjoyed considerable success in the professional world as a poet,
song-writer, and musical composer; hence it is no untried or faltering
quill which he brings within our midst. "Stringtown on the Pike," which
adorns the first page of the magazine, is a very pleasing bit of dialect
verse whose accent and cadences suggest the work of the late James
Whitcomb Riley. The metre is gratifyingly correct, and the rusticisms
exceedingly colourful; though the average reader might find it somewhat
difficult to associate the name Miko with Yankee countryside. Such a
praenomen carries with it suggestions of a rich brogue rather than a
nasal drawl. "Personal Liberty," a brilliant short essay by Leo Fritter,
ably and sensibly explodes one of the characteristically specious
arguments of the liquor advocat