ample: "John said: 'He was angry because I called him "cry-baby." When two sets of quotation marks are used together, on the Hammond typewriter leave a space between them. For instance, after "crybaby" in the example just quoted, the typewriter copyist should write: period, double-quote, space, single-quote, space, double-quote. If, in place of the period in the sentence quoted, there had been a semi-colon, an interrogation point, or an exclamation point after " crybaby," the double-quote should have been struck before the semi-colon, interrogation, or exclamation instead of after it. In other words, when only the last words of a sentence are quoted, the final quotation marks should precede a semi-colon, a colon, an interrogation-point, or an exclamation-point, - the large marks, that is, but should follow a comma or a period, both of which marks are so small that they look all right, even though they are really out of place. When the whole sentence is quoted, all quotation marks should invariably follow other punctuation marks. Make a new paragraph — indented five spaces whenever in conversation the speaker changes, or when in narrative the sense requires it. If one or more paragraphs are made in what -one speaker says without interruption, begin each paragraph with quotation marks, but do not put quotations marks at the end of paragraphs till the end of the last paragraph is reached. When, in contractions, an apostrophe is made to take the place of an elided letter, it should be written exactly as if it were the letter of which it takes the place. A caret at the end of a paragraph and another caret at the beginning of the next paragraph means: "Run in; no T." A line drawn from the end of one paragraph to the beginning of the next paragraph means the same thing. In dialect be sure that the same word or phrase is always spelled in exactly the same way. If possible, avoid having the top line on any page shorter than a full line. This is a bookprinter's rule, which applies also to typewriting. Also avoid, if possible, beginning a paragraph on the bottom line of any page. If you strike a wrong key by mistake, always erase the printed letter and print the right letter in its place. Don't "X out" mistakes. Use the eraser, and make your manuscript look clean. In a sentence like: "John," she said, "I am yours forever," leave two spaces before and after the words, "she said," besides putting in the usual punctuation marks. Leave a space on each side of every dash. Strike two hyphens to make a dash. If, in a narrative, you are indenting each ordinary paragraph five spaces, a paragraph beginning with a quotation mark should be indented only four spaces. It makes the manuscript look more regular to have the quotation marks outside the paragraph at the beginning, so that to the reader's eye the first letters in the different paragraphs will line evenly down the page. Correct manifest errors in copy, unless you have been instructed to follow copy exactly. Use your intelligence, and try to make the manuscript as nearly perfect as you can. Do not, however, make radical changes without consultation with the author. It is generally best to use a colon, instead of a comma, to introduce a quoted sentence. Before "but" and "and" at the beginning of a sentence, the strict rule is to use a semi-colon, and to begin the word "but" or "and" with a small letter. Good writers, however, avoid beginning a sentence with these words. Study the rules of punctuation, and follow them as scrupulously as you can. Always read over your copy carefully after it is completed, in comparison with the original. Put either a dash or "The End" in the centre of the line after the signature of every manuscript. In typewriting poetry follow the main rule regarding indentation, which is that all lines that rhyme with each,other must be indented equally. In observing this rule do not count quotation marks as letters. Always write poetry in the centre of the sheet, centring on the longest line. Do not enclose the finished manuscript in covers, or attach the sheets together in any way. If the manuscript is short, put a blank sheet of paper like that on which it is written before the first page, to keep it clean. If the manuscript is long, cut two pieces of pasteboard to just the size of the paper, and put one on top and the other on the bottom of the manuscript, then fastening the whole together with a stout rubber band. Before rolling a manuscript always commit suicide. There is no objection to folding a manuscript, but a rolled manuscript is good only for waste paper, and not good for much for that. Estimate the number of words in a manuscript by counting the number of words in an average full line, and multiplying that number AN OHIO POET-ALICE WILLIAMS BROTHERTON. "The true poet to-day is God's prophet. If a sinner prove false to his trust, Make his mission a by-word and scoff it; It is meet he should sink into dust. Who would wear the life crown of a poet Must breathe out a soul in his art Stand above the rude throng, not below it; And his song must be like his heart." pure, In these strong, true lines Alice Williams Brotherton reflects the predominant inspiration of her own muse, and voices the intensity with which all genuine poets feel that they have a message to deliver. She belongs, however, to a distinct class of poets those who make the burden of their songs man's relation to God and to humanity. Her poems are the work of an artist, yet they are of direct religious or ethical significance. They are born in the throes of a responsibility to uplift men, by spurring them to effort in the nobler things of life. This is dwelt upon because Mrs. Brotherton is one of the not too common poets who are able to make true poetry out of subjects akin to those chosen by David, and Solomon, and the Hebrew prophets. It is the kind of poetry which can be poetry only in an exalted spiritual atmosphere, in which the mean, the commonplace, the unpoetic cannot exist. Mrs. Brotherton is not, however, a writer of devotional poems, but, rather, of those which reflect the ethical in every subject, and make of all ethics a religion. In these days, when so much is attributed to heredity, there is a pleasing propriety in tracing a poet's peculiar gifts to the circumstances of ancestry and environment. Mrs. Brotherton's poetic work seems to be the direct and logical result of hereditary causes. Of Quaker lineage in both her paternal and maternal lines, she was born among the Quakers, at the home of her grandfather, Dr. Nathan Johnson, at Cambridge City, Indiana. The section of Indiana to which Cambridge City belongs has been noticeably rich in men and women of literary and scholastic attainment. It is to-day the home of a circle of poets, who, if not of world-wide fame, have gained recognition beyond the borders of their state, and have helped greatly to create the literary atmosphere for which Indiana is becoming known. Many of these writers have spent the morning of their days in the shadow of a "Friend's Meeting-house," and, perhaps, reached their truest inspiration through the subtle influence involved in the doctrine of religious expression only as a movement of the spirit. Alfred Baldwin Williams, the father of Mrs. Brotherton, was the son of a Hicksite preacher, and the grandson of a Quaker preacher of Welsh extraction. On her mother's side, Mrs. Brotherton is of mixed nationalities, in which the Celtic predominates. It is, perhaps, to these Celtic strains that she owes her purely poetic endowments. Yet, more than all, and above all, are the heritage of Quaker ideas, and her American Quaker teaching, which glow in the spiritual coloring, and her love for humanity, that together give its high value to her poetic work. Mrs. Brotherton's earliest years were spent successively in Cincinnati, St. Louis, and on a farm near Cambridge City, Indiana. A little later Mr. Williams made Cincinnati the permanent home of his family. There Alice was educated in the public schools. She was graduated from the Woodward High School in the spring of 1870, and at the same time began her literary career with her first published poems, "Pictures in Ice," written for Commencement day, and "Moods," read shortly afterward at an alumni meeting. Among the other graduates that Commencement day was one to whom the attractions of his brilliant classmate, Alice Williams, had proved irresistible. He was able to win her heart, and after he had completed a Harvard College course, their marriage took place, and she became Mrs. William Ernest Brotherton. United to a man whose sympathy and advice have, perhaps, more than all else, encouraged her in her literary work, Mrs. Brotherton has found in her marriage a happy destiny. Her life's sunshine has been clouded of recent years by her delicate health, and by one great sorrow, the loss of the eldest of her three beautiful children. Domestic in her tastes, and devoted to her family, Mrs. Brotherton passes most of her time in the seclusion of her pleasant home at Avondale, one of Cincinnati's charming sub urbs. Her home is shared by her mother and her sister, the latter a well-known engraver. Mrs. Brotherton, in spite of her devotion to her home and her literary work, has found time for an active part in various kinds of public work. She was president for two years of the Cincinnati Woman's Press Club, which, chiefly through her instrumentality, has become one of the largest and most influential organizations in the country. She has long been interested in the "woman question," her appreciation of the vital importance of which is voiced in her poem, "The Present Hour," written for and read before the Ohio State Council of Women in 1888. In this she says: "Our work's to mould a nobler womanhood Wage righteous war with ignorance and wrong." Lastly, in her public work it is not strange that as a champion of all woman's efforts for advancement she should be an enthusiastic member of what, in the abstract, seems destined to mark an epoch of the century, a woman's literary club. She was one of the founders, and has been for several years the president, of Les Voyageurs, a literary and study club of Avon dale. Mrs. Brotherton came of a family of readers, and her environments have always been most favorable for the development of her poetic talents. From her infancy she has browsed among good books, and has found in them much of the intellectual food and stimulus which her nature as a poet of the inward, rather than the outward, perceptions demanded. She has been fortunate in having from the beginning of her poetic work for her guidance in purely artistic lines, what is inestimable in value to a young poet, an exacting critic at her elbow. This critic is her mother, to whom she gladly acknowledges the greatest indebtedness for much of the success of her work. As I have said, Mrs. Brotherton did not appear in print in her extreme youth. This prudent waiting for ripeness led no doubt to the almost immediate recognition she received, when she fairly began her literary career in 1871. From that time her work has found ready acceptance from the Independent, the Christian Standard, Unity, the Atlantic, the Century, Scribner's, St. Nicholas, and many other periodicals of a like high character. Her first appearance as an author was in a little pamphlet containing a poem called "Beyond the Veil," published in 1886, by Charles H. Kerr & Co., of Chicago. Her first volume of poems, "The Sailing of King Olaf, and Other Poems," was published by the same firm, in 1887. Mrs. Brotherton, like most poets, carries her individuality into her times and ways of work. She does not saturate her brain and poetic thoughts with midnight oil, but finds her truest inspiration in daylight at its best, from eight to twelve in the morning. Much of her best work has been done with her babies about her, sitting in her lap or clinging to her gown. She writes in the way common to women, on her lap, supporting her paper on a walnut board made especially for her, and fitted with convenient attachments. She completes her work, whether poem or prose article, if possible at one sitting. She seldom rewrites or revises to any material Her poems are thus, in strictest truth, the spontaneous outpourings of a heart imbued with deeply religious feeling, having in a spiritual way a lesson to teach. extent. In poems like these there is often of necessity a certain sternness in the motive, yet no harsh note or bitterness mars the poetic beauty of Mrs. Brotherton's work. The most directly and positively didactic of her poems breathe the subtle artistic quality which imbues the reader with the emotions of the poet. Surely few persons have read without a certain selfconviction the tender, solemn, searching lines called "Magdalen.” The poem is a sermon on a text taken from the burial service, "We commit to the ground the body of this our deceased sister." "This our sister! Surely you are mocking. Why, this self-same form I've seen before, "Had she been our sister, - tempted, sinning, - Had deemed time and pains well spent in winning The delicate, though impressive, handling of the painful subject, and its power of awakening love and pity, the divine sympathy of a Chris tian, make this little poem sublime. Much of the effect of Mrs. Brotherton's work. is due to her use of a clear and simple diction It is a diction peculiarly adapted to the narra tive form of poetry, and to the legendary subjects which she has found so attractive. In her treatment of these subjects, she has a picturesque, firm touch, suggesting much more than is told, yet apparently without making any strong appeal to the reader's imagination. She chooses legends as picturesque material, but it is always the spirit of the story which has for her a specially poetic attraction, and this she interprets through fitting verse-forms and language. "The Sailing of King Olaf," the first poem in her volume, has the swift, terse movement of a heroic contest, and is appropriate at the same time to the exultant triumph of religious faith, which is the lesson taught. The poem is a long one, and an extract would not. do it justice; a few lines, however, will show the general treatment of the subject. Harald Haardrade and his brother Olaf agreed that "Who first shall win to our native land, He shall be king of old Norroway." But Harald stipulates that they shall exchange vessels, as Olaf's is the swifter. His brother consents, believing that, by the blessing of God,. he will win the race. He delays to offer prayer in the church, while Harald, the wind in his favor, sails away. Olaf, in his heavier, clumsier vessel, follows, and reaches the Norse land three days ahead of his brother: "Such was the sailing of Olaf the king, Time spent in praying is never lost." Another poem not included in the volume,. "The Ballad of Little Christin," is a good illustration of excellent adaption of the ballad form to an old tradition. As an almost purely æsthetic poem, it would place its author among the pre-Raphaelites. Little Christin weeps on her wedding day because she fears she will share the fate of her sisters, whom a "grim sprite" in Ringfallow's flood "stole away," "Each on her wedding day." Her lover has her palfrey shod "with golden shoon" to frighten the elves away, and a train of twelve men ride by her side. But "a snowwhite stag with a golden horn" lures the train away, and "Ere they reached the central arch That spans Ringfallow's wave, "Down, down into the Kelpies' hall She sank five fathoms clear. Loud laughed the sprite, 'O little Christin, But with "gold harp in his hand," her lover, And touched one golden string; "Sir Peter prayed a hearty prayer, And struck the chords with might; And so she was rescued by "music's magic power," and by prayer. Mrs. Brotherton's more strictly narrative poems are as distinct and vivid in impression as a bit of highly-colored tapestry, covered with well-executed scenes from life. "Dorothy Vernon's Flight" reminds one of "St. Agnes' Eve," not wholly from a slight similarity of subject, but as much from what may perhaps be called a classical effect of permanence which attaches itself to the maiden carried off by "the sturdy knight" in "the white moonlight," while "The mad merry measure of the music Sounded on, and the revel gaily sped, Or ever grim George and his lady Had learned that their prisoner had fled." In her treatment of nature, Mrs. Brotherton is delicately suggestive of moods and memories, rather than of a love of nature for its own sake. Her "Rose Songs," included in the published volume, are love songs full of the exultant, passionate feeling expressed by the "Dying Rose" deserted by the Nightingale whose songs she has inspired: "What were the gifts of a thousand lovers Her ducing clear-cut impressions with a few strokes All shades of human suffering, At last the Soul divine." If poetry were a matter of the imagination only, Mrs. Brotherton might be ranked lower than many a poet or verse writer of less merit. If poetry were music only, - honeyed notes of limpid sweetness, she would find many an unknown singer more than her peer. If poetry were nature's mirror only, she would fall behind in a race with many a contributor to the poet's corner of a country newspaper. If poetry were artistic verse-making only, mere versemakers in great numbers would stand by her side. It is because poetry, whatever else it may be, is "the living thoughts of living men," made intense and expressive through poetic forms of speech, that she is lifted into the ranks of true poets, though she ever harbors what in many hands becomes death to spontaneous song- the consciously didactic. As a writer of prose, Mrs. Brotherton has done much good work in reviews and criticisms and in stories for children. "What the Wind Told to the Tree Tops," a volume of children's stories, published several years ago, received much merited praise. Her most natural mode of expression, however, is poetry, and she is ever a true and helpful poet, and one whose work has added to the riches of American literature. NEW ALBANY, Ind. Mary E. Cardwill. |