od in the United States to the extent of
something like five hundred million pesetas.

For, like the prophet whom some one was telling about, Ibanez was not
known at home as a particularly hot tamale. But, then, he never had such
a persistent publisher in Spain, and book-advertising is not the art
there that it is in America. When the final accounting of the great
success of "The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse" in this country is
taken, honorable mention must be made of the man at the E.P. Dutton &
Co. store who had charge of the advertising.

* * * * *

The great Spanish novelist was in the French propaganda service during
the war. It was his job to make Germany unpopular in Spanish. "The Four
Horsemen of the Apocalypse" is obviously propaganda, and not
particularly subtle propaganda either. Certain chapters might have come
direct from our own Creel committee, and one may still be true to the
Allied cause and yet maintain that propaganda and literature do not mix
with any degree of illusion.

There is no question, of course, that those chapters in the book which
are descriptive of the advance and subsequent retreat of the German
troops under the eye of Don Marcelo are masterpieces of descriptive
reporting. But Philip Gibbs has given us a whole book of masterpieces of
descriptive reporting which do not bear the stamp of approval of the
official propaganda bureau. And, furthermore, Philip Gibbs does not wear
a sport shirt open at the neck. At least, he never had his picture taken
that way.

As for the rest of the books that were dragged out from the Spanish for
"storehouse" when "The Four Horsemen" romped in winners, I can speak
only as I would speak of "The World's Most Famous Battles" or "Heroines
in Shakespeare." I have looked them over. I gave "Mare Nostrum" a great
deal of my very valuable time because the advertisements spoke so highly
of it. "Woman Triumphant" took less time because I decided to stop
earlier in the book. "Blood and Sand" I passed up, having once seen a
Madrid bull-fight for myself, which may account for this nasty attitude
I have toward any Spanish product. I am told, however, that this is the
best of them all.

It is remarkable that for a writer who seems to have left such an
indelible imprint in the minds of the American people, whose works have
been ranked with the greatest of all time and who received more
publicity during one day of his visit here than C