THE fourth printing of this Directory- which is constantly being revised and enlarged-began in THE WRITER for July, 1922. The information for it, showing the manuscript market and the manuscript requirements of the various publications listed, is gathered directly from the editors of the periodicals. Great pains are taken to make the information accurate and the Directory complete.

Before submitting manuscripts to any publication, it is advisable to secure a sample copy.

(Continued from February WRITER)

SUNDAY SCHOOL WORLD (M), American SundaySchool Union, 1816 Chestnut st., Philadelphia, Penn. $1.00. James McConaughy, editor; Arthur M. Baker, assistant editor.

Uses articles based on actual experience, dealing concisely with all phases of Sunday-school work, particularly in the rural districts and smaller schools, accounts of new forms of Sundayschool activity and new solutions of old problems being particularly desired. The organization and equipment of a school, the work of a superintendent and other officers, methods of teaching, teacher training, securing the co-operation of the pupils, the influence of the school in community life, making the school a spiritual force, its continual extension and improvement, accompanied wherever possible by photographs or other illustrative material-all these and similar phases constantly need new treatment. Sets length limit at from 1,200 to 2,000 words, and pays, at a minimum rate of five dollars a thousand words, on the tenth of the month following publication.

SUNSET (M), 1045 Sansome st., San Francisco, Calif. $2.50; 25c. Joseph Henry Jackson, editor.

Devoted to the West - the new West preferring romantic fiction with a Western setting and dealing with young people. Does not want six-gun, or Wild West stories. Uses general articles, short stories, serials, and poetry, but no novelettes, plays, juvenile matter, humorous verse, or jokes. Sets length limits for short stories and articles at from 3,000 to 5,000 words and for serials at 40,000 words. Buys pictures, with full caption for the departments, "Interesting Westerners" and "Western Homes and Gardens," paying five dollars each. Buys photographs, preferring personalities, news and society pictures having Western slant, and pays, at a minimum rate of two cents a word, on accept

ance.

SUNSHINE (W), United Lutheran Publication House, 1228 Spruce st., Philadelphia, Penn. William L. Hunton, editor.

Uses very short and simple stories for young children, preferably with pictures. Sets length limit at 400 words, and pays on acceptance.

SUNSHINE FOR LITTLE PEOPLE (W), Editorial Department, Nazarene Publishing House, 2923 Troost ave., Kansas City, Mo. 40c. Mabel Hanson, editor. Uses short stories and verse pointing a moral for very little children. Sets length limit at 600 words, does not buy photographs, and pays on publication.

ADDITIONS AND CHANGES ART AND LIFE (M), Kalamazoo, Michigan. $2.50; 25c. Guy H. Lockwood, editor.

Does not buy manuscripts. Publishes cash art assignments, lessons and articles on cartooning, designing, illustrating, and chalk-talking, poetry, and jokes. Buys photographs.

BOOK REVIEW, R. R. Bowker Company, 62 West 45th st., New York. Rebecca Deming Moore, editor.

All material supplied by staff. Not in the market for outside material.

BOYS' COMPANION (W), 1716 Choteau ave., St. Louis, Mo. 75c. A. Ruecker, editor.

A paper for boys of from ten to fifteen, using general articles, short stories, and serials, but no poetry, jokes, or plays. Sets length limit for articles at 1,500 words, and for single stories or chapters at 2,500 words, buys photographs only when submitted as illustrations for manuscripts, and pays, at a minimum rate of twenty cents a hundred words, on accepttance.

CHILDREN'S COMRADE (W), 1716 Choteau ave., St. Louis, Mo. 50c. Miss Leota Diesel, editor.

A paper for little children under nine. Uses general articles and short stories, but no poetry, jokes, or plays. Sets length limit for articles at 800 words, and for stories at 1,500 words. Buys photographs only when submitted as illustrations for manuscripts, and pays, at a minimum rate of twenty cents a hundred words, on acceptance.

EVANGELICAL TIDINGS (W), 1716 Choteau ave., St. Louis, Mo. $1.00; A Ruecker, editor.

A paper for young people from the age of sixteen upward. Uses general articles, short stories, and serials, but no poetry, jokes, or plays. Sets length limit for articles at 1,500 words, and for stories and chapters of serials at 3,000 words. Buys photographs only when submitted as illustrations for manuscripts, and pays, at a minimum rate of twenty cents a hundred words, on acceptance.

Volume 39

Number 3

HE ingenious mind," says Stevenson, "face to face with something it downright ought to do, does something else. But the relief is temporary."

He was referring, of course, to writers, who between the two definitions of happiness unimpeded energy and remorseless idleness fall upon rather shameful compromise. The writer's ingenuity, as we all know, is employed not merely upon plot, character, and complication but in excusing work undone. It is the ephemeral quality of the relief afforded, however, that urges us to lay aside excuse-making and court the keys of our typewriters.

Still, one wail in deafening unison goes up from those who write and from those who long to write. Pruned of its variations, the cry is simply this: "We have no time. Scores of interruptions come to entice us from the wooings of the muse." In our Writer's Club here in Richmond the author of a best seller and of a dozen other successful books has found it hard to resist the entreaties of organizations to accept office. Our most delightful humorists compose two-thirds of the state board of motion picture censors. A satirist, a poet, an essayist, a short story writer claim that newspaper work is grinding down the keen edge of their genius. The selling of farm implements has plowed deeply into the time of a man who has sold to the magazine that boasts the larg

est circulation in the world. Uncle Sam's postal business uses up the better part of another writer's day. Teaching has sapped the creative urge of a woman who thirty years ago — according to first-hand information wrote with fine promise. And problems of a culinary and parental nature are engrossing minds that might better be employed with fictional complications. We could be great writers if we had time for the full development of our powers!

So we lay to our souls the comforting unction that we are victims of the age in which we live. Indeed our art is a peculiar one. We must have mood; we must have inspiration; we must have leisure and quiet; we do have temperament, and that must be respected by the ordinary mortals among whom we live. So if we do not write, it is not our fault. Circumstances over which we have no control have prevented the flowering of our genius. There is many a fastidious kinsman of Bret Harte in our midst who because of improper light and heat, maladjustment of furniture and poor writing materials calls off the day's work. If we had only lived in another age, we might have been worthy descendants of Homer, Virgil, or Shakspere!

Suppose, however, for the purpose of ascertaining whether or not writing was ever accomplished with ease, we stop for a moment

and compare our problem with that of others who have achieved literary preeminence. It might be just as well to skip the day when the poor man could not afford to write unless he found a wealthy patron who would supply food and raiment. Because biography is of comparatively recent development and autobiography a disease only just reaching its most virulent stage, our discussion will be executed with less difficulty if confined to the writers who have suffered in the last hundred years or so. Between loving and singing it is probable that even the burning Sappho had her share of domestic upheavals, over which the centuries have hung their gracious curtain. If the philosophy of the untidy Socrates had been of the sort to be committed to papyrus leaves within the realm of the immaculate Xantippe, Athens would likely have been spared the necessity of administering the fatal hemlock. It is, moreover, a very safe wager that Ann Hathaway's household often made composition difficult for the immortal William. Yet all for the want of a record the tale can not be told.

In the nineteenth century, however, we find the biographer plying his trade; and our fond suspicion that even the greatest geniuses had obstacles to surmount and by-paths to avoid becomes a blessed reality. The writer's interruptions, while matters more or less of invention, bear no twentieth century patent. Only a few fortunate souls like Byron and Alan Seeger can have their careers cut into by Crimean skirmishes and world wars. The rest complain, even as you and I, of the petty annoyances that sometimes merely sidetrack but more often reduce us to a state of gibbering idiocy.

letters. Poor writers! How they have suffered from every ill under the sun! George Eliot, frail from childhood, seems rarely to have been free from a headache, varying, of course, in degrees of severity.

"I am always a croaker, you know," she writers to one of her friends, "but my ailments are of a small kind, their chief symptoms being a muddled brain, and as my pen is not of the true literary order which will run without the help of brains, I don't get through so much work as I should like."

Everyone knows the story of Mrs. Browning's fifteen years in bed. Though Stevenson's triumph of mind over matter has become a Sunday School classic, surely in the light of his achievement, it bears repetition. This historian, essayist, poet, critic, and story writer perhaps in his entire adult life never was really well. There were times, of course, when he was not permitted to write, long periods when he wrote only two hours in the morning and one in the afternoon.

"In fourteen years," he writes George Meredith in 1893, "I have not had a day's real health, and I have done my work unflinchingly. I have written in bed and written out of it, written in sickness, written torn by coughing, written when my head swam for weariness."

During several prolonged and serious illnesses Sir Walter Scott was quite as indomitable as Stevenson. The "Bride of Lammermoor," "Legend of Montrose," and almost all of "Ivanhoe" were dictated from the author's couch. Scott had at the time two amanuenses, William Laidlaw and John Ballentyne. Though he was deeply attached to both, he seems to have found Laidlaw a source of distraction more real than his own illnesses. While "John" kept pen to paper without interruption, "Willie" entered with such zest into the interest of the story as it flowed from the author's lips that he could not suppress exclamations of surprise and delight - "Gude keep us a"!"the like o' that!"-"Eh, sirs, eh, sirs!' which to say the least did