nt reading of good
verse can in time correct. "Candy and Health," and "If You Were Down and
Out," by James Mather Mosely, are two typical newspaper interviews with
representative men. Mr. Mosely shows much aptitude as a reporter, having
an almost professional ease and fluency. This is not literature, but it
is good journalism. "The Dinner Never Paid For," by Viola Jameson, is a
piece of characteristic light fiction; commendably innocuous, and not at
all overburdened with philosophical complexity. "The Secret of Success,"
by Edith L. Clark, is a promising bit of didactic prose. "The End of the
Road," by Pearl K. Merritt, is a brief essay of substantial worth. "The
Toll of the Sea," a poem by Harold Gordon Hawkins, shows considerable
merit despite irregularities. "Memories," by Arthur Goodenough, well
sustains the high poetical reputation of its author, though it is
cruelly marred by the illogical and censurable "simplified" spelling
which the young editors see fit to employ. One line affords a silent but
striking instance of the utter senselessness and confusion of the new
orthographical fad. This line reads:
"Of human =thot= might well be =wrought=."
Now in the first place, =thot= does not express the true pronunciation
of =thought=. The word, thus written, tends to acquire the vocal quality
of =shot= or =blot=, as distinguished from =taught= or =brought=.
Secondly, in this place it is out of accord with =wrought=, which is
correctly spelled. If Messrs. Plummer and Mosely would be logical, let
them write =wrought= as =wrot=--or perhaps plain =rot= would be still
more correct and phonetic, besides furnishing a laconic punning
commentary on simple spelling in general. =The Phoenician's= editorial
column is conducted with laudable seriousness, the item of "The Power of
Books" being well worthy of perusal. What could best be spared from the
magazine are the vague jokes and cartoons, purposeless "fillers" of
miscellaneous nature, and columns of idle gossip about things in
general. Some of the moving picture items are greatly suggestive of what
a newspaper man would dub "press agent stuff." The magazine represents a
degree of purpose and energy quite rare amongst the anaemic youth of
today, and should receive corresponding encouragement from the members
of the United. Those who are inclined to censure its professional aspect
would do well to remember the much-vaunted beginnings of amateur
journalism, when the most high
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