s a strikingly
well-written short story pervaded with a delicate pathos and expressing
a beautiful Christian philosophy. George W. Macauley, continuing to
concentrate his narrative powers on the Oriental tale, presents a
pleasing fable of old Moorish Spain, entitled "Ali Ahmed and the
Aqueduct". "The Ethics of Stimulation", by Maurice W. Moe, is an
eminently sound exposition of the relative evil of coffee and alcoholic
liquor as stimulants. "Partners", by H. A. Reading, exhibits great
ability on the part of its author, and is well calculated to arouse the
emotions of affectionate fathers and sons.

Miss Owen's work, scattered here and there throughout the magazine, is
naturally of the very first quality. It is hard to choose between the
two poems "Atthis, I Love Thee", and "To Elizabeth Knopf", but we
incline slightly toward the former. The sketches "The Visitor" and "Some
Things I Like in New York" are both delightful in their artistic
simplicity.

Critically analyzed, Prometheus may be classed as one of the most varied
and generally readable magazines of the season.

RED LETTER DAYS for October is the first of an informal individual paper
by George W. Macauley, representing the most purely personal phase of
amateur journalism. This issue is almost completely devoted to an
animated account of the "Red Letter Days" spent by Mr. Macauley last
summer with the amateurs who stopped to see him while on their way to
the various conventions. The author's style is familiar and pleasing,
though rather careless, and slightly marred by defects in spelling and
grammar. For instance, we are told of the caution which he and Mr.
Stoddard exercised in changing seats in a boat, since neither "could
swim, had the boat DID the usual thing." We are sorry that Mr. Macauley
has adopted "simplified" spelling, but it is an evil in which he is by
no means alone.

Red Letter Days, broadly considered, is a highly commendable paper; its
simplicity and lack of affectation are alone sufficient to win general
approval.

STRAY LEAVES for May-June is another paper which has arrived late and
indirectly. In this publication we note with disapproval some evidence
of pseudo-professionalism, such as a subscription rate and
advertisements, but we trust that Miss Draper will ere long acquire the
perfect amateur spirit. "Love Proved To Be the Master of Hate", a short
story by Frances Wood, is handicapped by its unwieldy title. "The
Triumph of Love", or