: Atlantic Narratives: Modern Short Stories; Second Series by Antin Mary Ashe Elizabeth Carman Kathleen Comer Cornelia A P Cornelia Atwood Pratt De La Roche Mazo Donnell Annie Hamilton Dunning James Edmund Eastman Rebecca Hooper Ganoe William Addleman Huffak

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INTRODUCTION vii

BIOGRAPHICAL AND INTERPRETATIVE NOTES 369

INTRODUCTION

But in these present days, with the improved printing-presses moving at high speed and pouring forth everywhere their improvident and unsifted store, the best is too liable to be lost within the swift current of a vast and turbid abundance. It is, therefore, worth while for us--for those of us who have an abiding love of literature--to endeavor to rescue and place in more permanent form the choicest bits of this modern efflux of writing, and make it easily available for a more leisurely and intelligent perusal.

The stories here gathered together, while possessing the attributes and range which the English teachers have suggested, are widely varying in appeal and in centres of interest. Miss Mary Antin's story, 'The Lie,' for example, reveals, in significant portrayal, a unique attitude of mind among the patriotic foreigners; Miss Elizabeth Ashe, Miss Kathleen Norris, and S. H. Kemper have, in their several manners, pleasantly revealed their appreciation of the humorous; Mrs. Comer and Miss Eastman and Mr. Meredith Nicholson have lent a note of idealism; Mr. Joseph Husband and Mr. E. Morlae have contributed true accounts of their personal experiences; and the remaining writers on the list have, in their various individual ways, found still other moods and themes appropriate to their individualities. The net result is a literary variety that merges appropriately, I trust, into a unit of genuine and abiding worth.

C. S. T.

ATLANTIC NARRATIVES

THE LIE

BY MARY ANTIN

The American teachers, on their part, also made comparisons. They said David was not like other children. It was not merely that his mind worked like lightning; those neglected Russian waifs were almost always quick to learn, perhaps because they had to make up for lost time. The quality of his interest, more than the rapidity of his progress, excited comment. Miss Ralston, David's teacher in the sixth grade, which he reached in his second year at school, said of him that he never let go of a lesson till he had got the soul of the matter. 'I don't think grammar is grammar to him,' she said, 'or fractions mere arithmetic. I'm not satisfied with the way I teach these things since I've had David. I feel that if he were on the platform instead of me, geography and grammar would be spliced to the core of the universe.'

One difficulty David's teachers encountered, and that was his extreme reserve. In private conversation it was hard to get anything out of him except 'yes, ma'am' and 'no, ma'am,' or, 'I don't understand, please.' In the classroom he did not seem to be aware of the existence of anybody besides Teacher and himself. He asked questions as fast as he could formulate them, and Teacher had to exercise much tact in order to satisfy him without slighting the rest of her pupils. To advances of a personal sort he did not respond, as if friendship were not among the things he hungered for.

It was Miss Ralston who found the way to David's heart. Perhaps she was interested in such things; they sometimes are, in the public schools. After the Christmas holidays, the children were given as a subject for composition, 'How I spent the Vacation.' David wrote in a froth of enthusiasm about whole days spent in the public library. He covered twelve pages with an account of the books he had read. The list included many juvenile classics in American history and biography; and from his comments it was plain that the little alien worshiped the heroes of war.

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