O. HENRY MEMORIAL AWARD PRIZE STORIES of 1923

CHOSEN BY THE SOCIETY OF ARTS AND SCIENCES WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY BLANCHE COLTON WILLIAMS Author of “A Handbook on Story Writing,” “Our Short Story Writers,” Etc. Associate Professor of English, Hunter College of the City of New York Instructor in Story Writing, Columbia University (Extension Teaching and Summer Session) GARDEN CITY NEW YORK DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY 1924

COPYRIGHT, 1923, 1924, BY DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Copyright, 1922, 1923, by The McCall Company and The Pictorial Review Company.

Copyright, 1923, by Harper & Brothers, The Curtis Publishing Company in the United States and Great Britain, McClure Publishing Company, New York; The Century Co., Pearson’s Magazine (The New Pearson’s), The Frank A. Munsey Company, P. F. Collier and Son Company in the United States and Great Britain, International Magazine Company, Consolidated Magazines Corporation (The Red Book Magazine.)

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES AT THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS, GARDEN CITY, N. Y.

INTRODUCTION

This collection is that of no single person, whose prejudices conceivably might emphasize one type or another; but of editors, critics, and writers of fiction, whose combined opinion insures catholicity of taste and freedom from bias.

The fifth annual volume presented by the Committee from the Society of Arts and Sciences, it contains in the judgment of the Committee twenty-five or thirty per cent. of the best stories published in 1923.[A]

In previous volumes the Committee have stated the requisites of a good story. Hag-ridden by no formulæ, the Committee believe that every worthy narrative—whether Hebraic tale, Greek myth, or American short story—must yet meet specific tests. For example, characters engage in a struggle or become involved in difficulties out of which they emerge successfully or unsuccessfully. Apply this limitation to the David-Goliath fight, Phaëton’s sun chariot drive, or to Papa Chibou’s rape of Napoleon; it generously includes all.

The Committee apprehend, a posteriori, the writer’s problems of structure, characterization, colour, rhythm; they recognize the skill indispensable to concealing technique; they feel the beauty of the finished work, whose joinings are not discernible but whose exquisite art and pulsing nature—if they may paraphrase O. Henry—take them by the throat like the quinsy. Every short story may appear, and should appear, a mature Pallas, though the sympathetic analyst may deduce, as the author will recall, the slow processes of birth and growth.

Over the value of this year’s fiction compared with that of recent years, the Committee disagree. The pessimist says the level is lower; the optimist declares it higher. “A fair{viii} plateau marked by a few peaks,” says another. They agree on the following list as ranking first:

Babcock, Edwina Stanton, Mr. Cardeezer (Harper’s, May).

Beer, Thomas, Dolceda (Saturday Evening Post, November 3).

Benet, Stephen Vincent, The Golden Bessie (Everybody’s, June).

Buckley, F. R., Habit (Adventure, April 30).

Byrne, Donn, A Story Against Women (Collier’s, December 8).

Cobb, Irvin S., Red-Handed (Cosmopolitan, June); The Unbroken Chain (Cosmopolitan, September).

Connell, Richard, A New York Knight (Saturday Evening Post, April 21); A Friend of Napoleon (Saturday Evening Post, June 30); The Unfamiliar (Century, September).

Dell, Floyd, Phantom Adventure (Century, December).

Edholm, Charles Lawrence, The Rotten Board (Century, November).

Edwards, Harry Stilwell, The Blue Hen’s Chicken (Scribner’s October).

Faragoh, Francis Edwards, The Distant Street (The New Pearson’s, March).

Folsom, Elizabeth Irons, Towers of Fame (McClure’s, August).

Glenn, Isa Urquhart, The Wager (Argosy-All Story, September 18).

Hart, Frances Noyes, Long Distance (Pictorial Review, March); His Majesty’s Adviser (McCall’s, June).

Hopper, James, Célestine (Collier’s, June 2).

Hurst, Fannie, 7 Candles (Cosmopolitan, September).

Jackson, Charles Tenney, Water and Fire (Short Stories, April 10).

Johnson, Nunnally, I Owe It All to My Wife (Smart Set, July).

Johnston, Calvin, Clay of Ca’lina (Saturday Evening Post, April 7).

Kahler, Hugh MacNair, Power (Ladies’ Home Journal, January).

Larsson, Genevieve, Witch Mary (Pictorial Review, January).

Lemmon, Robert S., The Bamboo Trap (Short Stories, April 25).{ix}

Lincoln, Joseph, The Realist (Ladies’ Home Journal, July).

Mahoney, James, The Hat of Eight Reflections (Century, April).

Mason, Grace Sartwell, Home Brew (Saturday Evening Post, August 18).

Miller, Alice Duer, The Widow’s Might (Saturday Evening Post, July 14).

Montague, Margaret Prescott, The To-day, To-morrow (Atlantic Monthly, August).

Morris, Gouverneur, Derrick’s Return (Cosmopolitan, August).

Rice, Alice Hegan, Phoebe (Atlantic Monthly, April).

Russell, John, The Digger (Everybody’s, February); Gun Metal (Saturday Evening Post, June 30).

Saxby, Charles, The Song in the Desert (McCall’s, September).

Scoville, Samuel, The Sea King (Ladies’ Home Journal, January).

Singmaster, Elsie, The Truth (Saturday Evening Post, March 24).

Smith, Edgar Valentine, Prelude (Harper’s, May); Substance of Things Hoped For (Harper’s, August).

Steele, Wilbur Daniel, Towers of Sand (Pictorial Review, June); Ginger Beer (Pictorial Review, November).

Synon, Mary, Shadowed (Red Book, May); An Unfinished Story (Good Housekeeping, November).

Tarkington, Booth, The One Hundred Dollar Bill (McCall’s, January); The Coincidence (McCall’s, September).

Train, Arthur, Her Crowded Hour (Saturday Evening Post, May 19).

Vorse, Mary Heaton, The Promise (Harper’s, July); The Single Man (Century, July).

Watts, Mary S., Nice Neighbours (Harper’s, December).

Wharton, Edith, False Dawn (Ladies’ Home Journal, November).

Whitehead, Henry S., The Intarsia Box (Adventure, November 10).

Williams, Ben Ames, The Piano (Saturday Evening Post, March 10); A Threefold Cord (Saturday Evening Post, May 19).

Williams, Jesse Lynch, Not Wanted (Saturday Evening Post, November 17).{x}

Wood, Frances Gilchrist, The Courage of a Quitter (Delineator, August); Four o’Clocks (Delineator, February); Shoes (Harper’s, December).

The stories in the following list rank high with a majority of the Committee.

Aldrich, Bess Streeter, Meadows Entertains a Celebrity (American, August).

Arbuckle, Mary, Half a Loaf (Argosy-All Story, May 19).

Bechdolt, Frederick R., The Sureness of MacKenzie (Sea-Stories, January).

Bennett, James W., The Singing Skipper (Short Stories, February 25).

Burt, Struthers, Pan of the Pastures (Saturday Evening Post, April 7).

Clausen, Carl, A Year Longer to Live (Metropolitan, June).

Cohen, Octavus Roy, Swampshade (Good Housekeeping, May).

Condon, Frank, A Wolf is a Wolf (Saturday Evening Post, December 1).

Connell, Richard, Fists (Saturday Evening Post, March 10).

Cooper, Courtney Ryley, The Son of Beauty (Elks Magazine, December).

Cross, Ruth, Mary ’Lizabeth’s Folks (Saturday Evening Post, December 22).

Dean, William Harper, Under Battened Hatches (McClure’s, July).

De Bra, Lemuel L., The Strategy of Chun Moy (Short Stories, March 10).

Derfelden, Margharita, The Buddha (Scribner’s, August).

Dodge, Louis, The Breaking Point (Scribner’s, July).

Dreiser, Theodore, Ida Hauchawout (Century, July).

Flanner, Janet, Papa Cæsar’s Wild Oats (Live Stories, December 14).

Frost, Meigs O., Lilies of the Lord (Blue Book, October).

Gilbert, Kenneth, The Last White-Water Birler (Short Stories, September 25).

Greene, Frederick Stuart, Coming Back (Saturday Evening Post, October 20).

Hall, Wilbur, The Screws (Red Book, January).

Hellman, Sam, A Date with Hannibal (McClure’s, February).{xi}

Hopper, James, A Fiery Revelation (Collier’s, January 27).

Irwin, Wallace, A Touch of Eternity (Red Book, April).

Jackson, Charles Tenney, Corn (Our World, October).

Johnston, Julia Winifred, The Blue in the Labradorite (Scribner’s, October).

Johnston, Mary, Nemesis (Century, May).

Josselyn, Talbert, Mocking Bird (Short Stories, October 25).

Kahler, Hugh MacNair, The Pinhooker (Saturday Evening Post, July 23).

Kerr, Sophie, Chin-Chin (Saturday Evening Post, May 12); Cherry Blossoms (McCall’s, October).

Larsson, Genevieve, Black Eric’s Son (Pictorial Review, September).

Lindsey, Myra Mason, Miss Tilly’s Yellow Streak (Scribner’s, December).

Marshall, Edison, The Savage Breast (Everybody’s, May).

Morris, Gouverneur, The Knife (Cosmopolitan, September).

Mumford, Ethel Watts, Ether (Munsey’s, September).

Nathan, Robert, The Marriage of the Puppets (Atlantic Monthly, October).

Norris, Kathleen, Christmas Bread (Good Housekeeping, December).

Nygren, Richard, Dead Man’s Hand (Scribner’s, October).

Pulver, Mary Brecht, The Black Pigeon (Saturday Evening Post, November 17).

Rhodes, Harrison, Thomas Robinson, Matrimonial Agent (Saturday Evening Post, April 28).

Sanborn, Ruth Burr, A Born Teacher (Bookman, April).

Sappington, T. L., Spring Tonic (Everybody’s, June).

Shannon, Robert Terry, The Scourge (Short Stories, November 25).

Singmaster, Elsie, The Messenger (Saturday Evening Post, June 2); Brother (Outlook, March 7).

Smith, Gordon Arthur, Triumph (Saturday Evening Post, January 20); Beata (Harper’s, October).

Springer, Fleta Campbell, The Scar (Century, January).

Steele, Wilbur Daniel, Arab Stuff (Harper’s, January).

Stone, Elinore Cowan, The Mama of Manuelito (Century, April).

Synon, Mary, Yucca Bloom (McCall’s, October).

Welles, Harriet, Old Ships (Scribner’s, August).{xii}

Wetjen, Albert Richard, The Iron Sea (Collier’s, March 31); Minute Immensities (Holland’s, April).

Willoughby, Barrett, The Law of the Trap Line (American, November).

Wood, Frances Gilchrist, The Pick-Up Job (Pictorial Review, May); “And Hear—the Angels—Sing” (Delineator, December).

From the first list were selected the stories here offered. Again, out of this smaller number three were voted the annual prizes. To “Prelude,” by Edgar Valentine Smith, goes the first award of $500; to “A Friend of Napoleon,” by Richard Connell, the second, of $250; to “Towers of Fame,” by Elizabeth Irons Folsom, the special prize of $100 for the best brief story under 3,000 words. One member wished to record a preference for “The Distant Street” as first winner, and also urged Richard Connell’s “A New York Knight” for second winner. With one exception, and with the result stated, every story on the first list was considered in making the awards. The exception is the work of Frances Gilchrist Wood. The Committee having indicated their appreciation of its high merit, Mrs. Wood, herself a member of the Committee, consented to a place on the lists; but, as a matter of course, she refused to enter any one of her stories as a candidate for the awards.

As magazines increase in number, good stories increase but not in equal ratio. The reason, which will commend itself to all readers, is apparent to any reader who has served a term in the editorial office. A story is rejected on one of several counts: it falls below the standard of the magazine; it is not of the type suited to the purpose and the audience of the magazine; it comes at a time when the vaults are overstocked. If superlatively excellent, it may overthrow both the second and third barriers. But, let us say, it is rejected because it departs from type. It may develop a psychological struggle, an adventure of the soul, whereas the periodical to which it is offered prefers stories of physical adventure. Sent back, the script may be bought subsequently by a magazine of repute superior to the first. But make no mistake: the editor paying most to-day has the pick of the{xiii} market. He has first chance, though he may not pick the best. He may leave ungathered a peach of a story, because he believes his readers like apples or plums. Editor

Number Two may observe the fine fibre, the rare bloom, of the rejected fruit and serve it up to the gustatorially discerning. So the good story is salvaged. Stories below standard fall to publications implicitly serving readers of lighter, cheaper fiction. The inferior story, then, also ultimately finds an audience.[B] To read, to estimate, and to extract the superior stories from the inferior combine in a threefold task of increasing difficulty.

Seventy-five years ago the stream of literature flowed from England and the European continent to America. Examine the first issue of Harper’s Magazine.[C] You will find with few exceptions a collection of reprints. Dickens’s Household Words, the Dublin University Magazine, Bentley’s Miscellany, the Ladies’ Companion and the London Athenæum provide two serials, a long story complete, a brief tale or two, memoirs, comments on authors of the day—Jeffrey, Bowles, Wordsworth, George Sand—and translations from the German, besides other matter of irrelevance to this summary.

Lay aside Volume I of Harper’s, after observing that the volume continues the practice of the first number, and take down Volume I of Scribner’s. Appearing thirty-seven years later[D] and thirty-six years before 1923, it marks the apex of this three-quarter century period. The Table of Contents is practically all-American. There are Brander Matthews, Joel Chandler Harris, Dean N. S. Shaler, Octave Thanet, Margaret Crosby, Sarah Orne Jewett, Thomas Nelson Page, Harold Frederic, H. C. Bunner, Duncan Campbell Scott, “J. S.” of Dale, Professor Adams Sherman Hill, Arlo Bates. There are “Glimpses at the Diary of Gouverneur Morris,” rather than “Memoirs of the Duchess of Orleans” (in the{xiv} Harper’s of 1850). American periodical literature is established.

Consider, further, the situation to-day. In England you will find leading American periodicals in the English edition; you will find in Hutchinson’s, The Strand, Nash’s (published, all, in London) for instance, reprints of fiction first published in America by American authors, as well as stories by English authors published simultaneously, a little earlier, or a trifle later, in America.

“But,” asks one, “why state the obvious?” Because certain critics refuse to recognize the obvious, insisting on the sciolism, provincialism, poverty, and inadequacy of fiction in America. It is one thing to insist out of deference to dreams of greater achievement; it is quite another thing to insist out of subservience to the fashion which prompts negation and destruction, out of an inherent inability to acknowledge good in anything. The tentative data suggested above at least indicate the cosmopolitan appeal of American fiction.

Turn again to the first volume of Harper’s Magazine. You will find one page bearing the classic, “A Child’s Dream of a Star” (page 73); you will find “My Novel,” by Bulwer Lytton; and “Maurice Tiernay,” by Charles Lever. Will any magazine of June-November, 1923, carry similar survivals to 2000 A.D.? The answer is on the knees of the gods. But against the instances of novels of 1850, known at least to the specialist and perhaps to others, there are anecdotes and tales of matter and manner inferior to stories in the same magazine to-day.

Read the beginning of “Lettice Arnold” (page 13):

“Nay, my child,” said the pale, delicate, nervous woman, thus addressed by a blooming girl whose face beamed with every promise for future happiness, which health and cheerfulness, and eyes filled with warm affection could give, “Nay, my child, don’t talk so. You must not talk so. It is not to be thought of.”

Or read “Andrew Carson’s Money: A Story of Gold,” and mark the following passage:

Mother, I have taken poison. I have sold my body to a doctor for dissection; the money I give you is part of the price. You have upbraided me for never making money; I have sold all I possess—my body—and given you my money. You have told me of the stain on my birth;{xv} I can not live and write after that; all the poetical fame in the world would not wash away such a stain. Your bitter words, my bitter fate, I can bear no longer; I go to the other world; God will pardon me. Yes, yes. From the bright moon and stars this night, there came down a voice, saying, God would take me up to happiness amid his own bright worlds. Give my body to the men who are waiting for it, and so let every trace of Andrew Carson vanish from the earth.

Now read any passage in the stories here included from the same magazine. The point to be emphasized is the generally higher standard of present-day fiction, as the high standard of the magazine has been uniform.

Again, the charge finds entertainment that American fiction lacks depth; yet it flows full and deep from the head sources of all the races that make America. Granted that within a thousand years, from some white heat of common interest, fusion may effect a greater national literature. It will be different from this of to-day, but it will look back—if it looks, at all—on the Twentieth Century not as one of childish beginnings. American writers have their origins among Anglo-Saxon scops, Celtic bards, French trouvères, Hebrew psalmists and historians. A patent fact, yes; but too frequently ignored by those who like to regard American literature as infant literatures of old races are regarded. Nationally, America may lack depth of common interest; the soil may be “insufficiently fertilized,” as one critic says; but, racially, America has all that her several races have ever possessed. The short story is the exact vessel for catching and holding the various racial characteristics.

“And because we like to be loved,” says another,[E] “we dare not touch upon the wounds of life—the hunger, the passions, the buffets, the defeats that purge its sordidness, gild its drabness, and actuate us to nobler aspirations.”

By way of reply to this challenge Francis Edwards Faragoh might have written “The Distant Street” had he not already published it. Emanuel’s desire for undiscovered mysteries back of the yellow pools, for life behind the flowers, by him prefigured as unattainable, symbol of the ideal; his buffets at home, his climactic defeat through human passion—these are of the essence of life. Emanuel’s worldly success, built on the supremacy of the practical pull, poignantly con{xvi}cedes to life the insignificance of a single unit amid an infinity of units. His desire, which leads him—in his “unaccountable fits”—to the distant street, maintains his ego triumphant, ultimately inviolate. The lyric strain in this young doctor has the potency of passages in the Song of Solomon; his ideal of duty has the greater potency of the Mosaic tablets.

Growing out of the Swedish settlements in Wisconsin, from another tributary race flowers “Witch Mary.” The men and women of this story, blue-eyed and blond, among whom Black Eric represents the darker strength of Satan, retain the fancy, the poetry, of early Scandinavian peoples. Those peoples, more than a thousand years ago, saw etins and elves and nickers on the sea; their terror was of those monsters, the nipping night, and the northern wind. Of the inland country, in Miss Larsson’s narrative, the river is still the source of fear, as was the sea while Beowulf was growing slowly to epic size. Those children who saw Witch Mary fly, like the wind, from the river, are descended in the fortieth generation or so from those children who followed the flight of Grendel’s mother to her lair under the waters of the haunted mere.