have come out of
England: A Student in Arms; The Tree of Heaven; Why Men Fight, by
Bertrand Russell--I'm hoping he'll write one on Why Men Are Imprisoned:
you know he was locked up for his sentiments! And here's one of the
most moving of all--The Letters of Arthur Heath, a gentle, sensitive
young Oxford tutor who was killed on the Western front. You ought to
read that book. It shows the entire lack of hatred on the part of the
English. Heath and his friends, the night before they enlisted, sat up
singing the German music they had loved, as a kind of farewell to the
old, friendly joyous life. Yes, that's the kind of thing War
does--wipes out spirits like Arthur Heath. Please read it. Then
you'll have to read Philip Gibbs, and Lowes Dickinson and all the young
poets. Of course you've read Wells already. Everybody has."

"How about the Americans?" said Titania. "Haven't they written
anything about the war that's worth while?"

"Here's one that I found a lot of meat in, streaked with philosophical
gristle," said Roger, relighting his pipe. He pulled out a copy of
Professor Latimer's Progress. "There was one passage that I remember
marking--let's see now, what was it?--Yes, here!

"It is true that, if you made a poll of newspaper editors, you might
find a great many who think that war is evil. But if you were to take
a census among pastors of fashionable metropolitan churches--"

"That's a bullseye hit! The church has done for itself with most
thinking men. . . . There's another good passage in Professor Latimer,
where he points out the philosophical value of dishwashing. Some of
Latimer's talk is so much in common with my ideas that I've been rather
hoping he'd drop in here some day. I'd like to meet him. As for
American poets, get wise to Edwin Robinson----"

There is no knowing how long the bookseller's monologue might have
continued, but at this moment Helen appeared from the kitchen.

"Good gracious, Roger!" she exclaimed, "I've heard your voice piping
away for I don't know how long. What are you doing, giving the poor
child a Chautauqua lecture? You must want to frighten her out of the
book business."

Roger looked a little sheepish. "My dear," he said, "I was only laying
down a few of the principles underlying the art of bookselling----"

"It was very interesting, honestly it was," said Titania brightly.
Mrs. Mifflin, in a blue check apron and with plump arms floury to the
elbow, gav