candidates, exchange titles without any reader being the wiser. Indeed, so similar are they that, owing to the ramifications of the press syndicate system, a traveler across the continent may find himself continually reading the same thing in different sheets. I am not asserting that it is better for newspapers each to have their own character, as in England and France; but it is certainly more provocative of individual thought.

I can best indicate, without the mechanical assistance of dates, the time of my sojourn in New York by saying that during those few weeks President Wilson's successor was being sought, the possibility of the repeal of the Prohibition Act was a matter of excited interest, and Babe Ruth was the national hero. During this period I saw the President sitting on the veranda of the White House; I had opportunities of honoring Prohibition in the breach as well as in the observance; and these eyes were everlastingly cheered and enriched by the spectacle of the Babe lifting a bail over the Polo Ground pavilion into Manhattan Field. I hold, then, that I cannot be said to have been unlucky or to have wasted my time.

I found Prohibition the universal topic: could it last and should it last? In England we are accused of talking always of the weather. In America, where there is no weather, nothing but climate, that theme probably was never popular. Even if it once were, however, it had given

"THE

WOOLWORTH BUILDING DOES NOT SCRAPE THE SKY; IT GREETS IT, SALUTES IT

WITH A

BEAU

GESTE"

way to Prohibition. At every lunch or dinner table at which I was present, Prohibition was the first subject and the last, whatever may have intervened. And how could it be otherwise? For if my host was a "dry" man, he had to begin by apologizing for having nothing cheering to offer; and if he possessed a cellar it was impossible not to open the ball by congratulating him on his luck or his generosity. Meanwhile the guests were comparing notes as to the best substitutes for alcoholic beverages, exchanging recipes, or describing their adventures with private stills. For every one seemed to be experimenting. Not a house, however pure and honorable its façade, that did not conceal an illicit vat or crucible; not a man who was not a potential smuggler. I visited a young couple in a charming little cottage in one of the Garden Cities near New York, and found them equally divided in their solicitude over a baby on the top floor and a huge jar in the basement which needed constant skimming if the beer was to be worth drinking.

If my own friends and acquaintances may be taken as representative, the opinion of Americans is that they were torpedoed into total abstinence and that some abatement of the privation is necessary.

Perhaps if I had reached New York from the sea the sky-scrapers would have struck me more violently. But I had already seen a few in San Francisco (and wondered at and admired the courage which could build so high after the earth

quake of 1906), and more in Chicago, all ugly; so that when I came to New York and found that the latest architects were not only building high but imposing beauty on these mammoth structures, surprise was mingled with delight. No matter how many more millions of dollars are expended on that strange medley of ancient forms which go to make up New York's new Cathedral, where Romanesque and Gothic seem already to be ready for their divorce, the Woolworth Building will be New York's true fane. Whoever designed that graceful immensity not only gave Commerce its most notable monument (to date) but removed forever the slur upon sky-scrapers. The Woolworth Building does not scrape the sky; it greets it, salutes it with a beau geste. And I should say something similar of the Bush Building, with its alabaster chapel in the air that becomes translucent at night; and the Madison Square tower (whose clock-face, I notice, has the amazing diameter of three floors); and the Burroughs-Welcome Building on Forty-first Street, with its lovely perpendicular lines; and that very solid cube of masonry on Park Avenue which bursts into flower, so to speak, at the top in the shape of a very beautiful loggia. But even if these adornments become,. as I hope, the rule, one could not resent this structural elephantiasis a moment after realizing the physical conditions of New York. A growing city built on a narrow peninsula is unable to expand laterally and must therefore soar. The problem was how to make it soar with dignity, and the problem has been solved.

In the old days, when brown stone was the only builders' medium, New York must have been a drab city indeed; or so I gather from the few ancient typical residences that remain. There are a few that are new, too, but for the most part the modern house is of white stone. Gayest of all is, I suppose, that vermilionroofed florist's on Fifth Avenue.

It used to be said that good Americans when they died went to Paris. The Parisian lure no doubt is still powerful; but every day I should guess that more of Paris comes to America. The upper parts of New York have boulevards and apartment houses very like the real thing, and I noticed that the architecture of France exerts a special attraction for the rich man decreeing himself a pleasure dome. There are millionaires' residences in New York that might have been transplanted not only from the Avenue du Bois de Boulogne but from Touraine itself; while when I made my pilgrimage to Mr. Widener's, just outside Philadelphia, I found Rembrandt's "Mill," and Manet's dead bull-fighter, and a Vermeer, and a little meadow painted divinely by Corot, and El Greco's family group, and Donatello's St. George, and one of the most lovely scenes that ever was created by Turner's enchanted brush, all enshrined in a palace which Louis Seize might have built.

But America is still more French than

this. Her women can be not less soignée than those of France, although they suggest a cooler blood and less dependence on male society; her shops can be as distinguished as those of the Rue de la Paix and far more costly; and her bread is better than France's best. Moreover, when it comes to night, and the Broadway constellations challenge the darkness, New York leaves Paris far behind. For every cabaret and supper resort that Paris can provide New York has three; and for every dancing floor in Paris New York has thirty. Good Americans, however, will still remain faithful to their old posthumous love, if only for her wine.

Among the peculiarly beautiful effects that America produces the sky signs must be counted high. I had seen some when in San Francisco against the deep Californian sky, and they captivated the startled vision; but the reckless profusion and movement of the great white way, as I turned out of Forty-second

W

"THE MADISON SQUARE [METROPOLITAN] TOWER (WHOSE CLOCK FACE, I NOTICE, HAS THE AMAZING DIAMETER OF THREE FLOORS)"

Street, on my first night in New York, came as something more than a surprisea revelation of willful gayety. We have normally nothing in England to compare with it. Nor can we have even our summer exhibition imitations of it so long as coal is so rare and costly. But though we had the driving power for the electricity we could never get such brilliance, for the clear American atmosphere is an essential ally. In our humid airs all the diamond glints would be blurred. For the purest beauty of traceries of white light against a blue background one must go, however, not to Broadway, which is too bizarre, but to Luna Park on Coney Island. Odd that it should be there, in that bewildering medley of sound and restlessness, that one extreme of loveliness should be found; but I maintain that it is so, that nothing more strangely and voluptuously beautiful could be seen than all those minarets and domes, those lines and curves formed of myriad lamps, turning the night into an ocean of velvet blue mysterious and soft and profound.

HEN Tiberius Sempronius Gracchus telephoned, "Cornelia, my dear, I am bringing Claudius Appius and a couple of Senators home to luncheon," one wonders whether Cornelia's first thought was for the menu or her jewels. Did she long for a safety deposit box in which to place the latter temporarily?

Without irreverence one pictures the meal that followed. Tiberius, Jr., in his high chair, Gaius at his mother's elbow, and the constant undertow of gastronomic injunctions running beneath the surface flow of conversation-not to mention Tiberius's fixed intention to share the indigestible dessert prepared for the Senators, and Gaius's unseemly interruptions during the discussion of the new aqueduct. But no! To fancy these difficulties in a ménage such as Cornelia's must have been is folly.

When the honorable Senators finally rowed away in their Rolls-Royce galley, one feels sure that there were no ejaculations such as, "How can Tiberius and Cornelia allow their children to behave so?" and that Cornelia did not cast herself into the husbandly embrace, crying, "Oh, Tiberius Sempronius, let's never have company again!"

Had Cornelia been subject to such human weakness, I could find it in my heart to love her. I, too, have a feminine Gaius and a turbulent Tiberius; and when their father announces that we are threatened with company, my soul knows tribulation.

Cleopatra, motoring out for the weekend, looks with ill-concealed disfavor upon Tiberius's home-made hair-cut and the pump-handle salutation of Gaius, who

BY MARGARET STEEL HARD

has not learned the little trick of ducking when introduced. "So pretty, my dear,' admonishes Cleopatra ; "American children are so lacking in manner." And it is during her visit that I am suddenly aware of the misdemeanor of my best gown, handed down from trousseau days, and still flaunting its unblushing length and breadth.

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Next comes Hypatia-a flying glimpse. She carries the last copy of the "Dial " under her arm, and wears the insignia of half a dozen radical groups upon her coat lapel. My dear," she enjoins, after half-hour's analysis of the children and me, you must avoid complexes and inhibitions in the children. And, above all things, Cornelia, don't become a parent with a fat mind." After she has gone, leaving me a book on "Suggestion," it is indeed a blow to have "Tiberius Sempronius produce a letter heralding a visit from Aunt Flavia.

Aunt Flavia's visits are long at best. She accounts for all the shortcomings of the children by lopping off first one and then another limb from Tiberius Sempronius's or my family tree. When evening comes, and I bring out my darning or finish belated ironing, her conversational candle burns its brightest. "Cornelia," she says, eying the holes in Gaius's stockings, "I rejoice that you are nearly out of the woods." Involuntarily my mind's eye searches the horizon for some dense foliage, but finding none I come back to what Aunt Flavia is saying. "Gaius and Tiberius are now past the most troublesome stage. They will soon be comparatively independent. I do hope, Cornelia, that you are going to--" Aunt Flavia hesitates delicately. "Really,

Cornelia, you need some broadening influences in your life."

"But, Aunt Flavia," I urge ineffectually, "Tiberius Sempronius and I feel that the largest influence is" It is no use. Aunt Flavia is deaf to my defense. "Really, Cornelia," she continues, "I am surprised to find how little reading you do. No intelligent woman can afford to let these serious matters drift. The League of Nations, for example. You should at least know the substance of the different Articles; and I was truly mortified the other day, at the meeting of the Customary Wash-Day Club, to find how ignorant you are in matters of parliamentary procedure. As the wife of Tiberius Sempronius, Cornelia, it is your duty to study these things."

"But Aunt Flavia, Tiberius Sempronius didn't ask me if I understood parliamentary procedure when he sought me in marriage." Aunt Flavia is impervious to such flippancy.

After she has retired with a copy of the "Survey "-a sort of bedtime toddy for Aunt Flavia-I put away the darning basket and wait for Tiberius Sempronius. He comes in quietly, and after brushing up the coals on the hearth and glancing amusedly at the pile of freshly mended stockings, he blows out the candles on the mantle. But first he looks at me a bit thoughtfully, with just the suspicion of a twinkle in his eye. Then he says, "Cornelia, I met Claudius Appius in the Forum to-day; he and Mrs. Appius are going to Messina for the winter. He offered us the use of their safety deposit box for your jewels. But I told him that you had only an unfinished necklace. Was I right, Cornelia ?"

T

HE court martial needs no defense. Military law, wisely administered, is beneficent. Its maladministration or misadministration by thousands of inexperienced men clothed suddenly with great responsibility has been the cause of endless misunderstanding and abuse. As a summary court officer I tried more than two hundred cases. Not a single defender ever left my trial-room without realizing the need for military law, without a better understanding of its operation than he had before, and few, if any, with the slightest feeling of resentment toward the Government, the accusing officer, or myself.

A SOLDIER IS A HUMAN BEING

The detail as summary court officer is an unpleasant one, but in the Army we do not pick our details. Given a job to do, we do it the best we know. how. While I was not originally of the Regular Army, I came in for our entertainment of Kaiser Wilhelm the Second. When I was appointed summary court, I realized that in justice to myself it was my duty to go thoroughly and earnestly into each case brought before me, putting myself in the shoes of the of fender, and to fix his mental condition at the time of the commission of the act for which he was to be tried. I was conscientious in this. I would not take thousands of dollars for my experience as a summary court, nor would I voluntarily go through it again for more thousands of dollars. I can look back on my duties with the feeling that every man I tried was a better soldier for the incident, and that I myself got something good out of it. I may have failed to be just in the exact sense of the word. That I was humanly merciful I honestly believe. A few cases in point:

STEALS HORSE TO FEED STARVING
MOTHER

Sergeant X, thirty-eight years old, above the draft age as first fixed, anxious to serve, enlisted voluntarily. Had a thorough knowledge of horses and mules; was made stable sergeant in an important organization. Had a dependent mother, to whom he allotted the greater part of his pay. Each pay day he remitted to her, in addition to his allotment, a portion of the small stipend he received. One day there came to me for investigation charges against Sergeant X. He was accused of the minor offense of being absent without leave, and the more serious offense of having sold a Government horse, saddle, and bridle. Sergeant X had been arrested by the military police. He was drunk when taken into custody, and when I received the charges he was in confinement. I investigated the case. As a result I felt that charges should not lie against Sergeant X, but against some person employed in the Bureau of War Risk Insurance, because my investigation

BY A REGULAR

developed that the aged mother of Sergeant X had for months not received a penny of her son's wages, and was practically dying of slow starvation, her life kept in her by the charity of the community in which she lived. When Sergeant X diswhich she lived. When Sergeant X discovered this, he was so distressed as to be mentally irresponsible. In this frame of mind he "licked up" a lot of " moonshine liquor" and sold the horse, saddle, and bridle with the idea of sending the money to his mother. The horse, saddle, and bridle were recovered without cost to the Government, and, on my recommendation, the serious charges against Sergeant X were withdrawn and he was disciplined solely for being absent without leave.

Sergeant K, charged with being absent without leave for nine days. He entered a plea of guilty, and then I had him tell me his story. He was engaged to marry a young widow who lived within a hundred miles of camp. He had received a letter from her, saying that she was ill with influenza and would like to have him visit her. He had obtained from his company commander promise of a tenday pass to begin on a certain Saturday, In the interval between the promise of the pass and the time it was to begin he had received another letter from his sweetheart saying that her little boy also had influenza. Friday night his company commander announced at the Retreat Formation that because of a suspected case of measles in the company there would be no passes, and that everybody would stay in camp until further orders. Sergeant K waited until noon Saturday, and then quietly slipped out of camp, went to see his sweetheart, was with her through the crisis in her illness, buried her little son, who died while he was there, and then came back to camp. Did I find him guilty? I did not. His company commander was deficient in knowledge of men. The company was quartered in six buildings. If there were measles in one of them, occupants of that particular building might have been quarantined. If it were necessary to restrict passes or to impose restrictions on those promised, then the company commander should have had applicants see him again, that he might reconsider and pass upon the desirability of living up to his promise or revoking the privilege. I found Sergeant K not guilty.

ACCUSED FIXES OWN PENALTY

Sergeant A, of the old-time Regular Army, absent without leave nine days and twenty-three hours. Before me for trial, no excuse, pleaded guilty. He wanted to see his sweetheart; she was not sick, neither was he. He did not even ask permission of his company commander. I talked the case over with him, and asked him to sit momentarily as summary court and fix the penalty. He

thought that a non-commissioned officer of the Regular Army who could so far forget regulations and orders and his training as to commit an offense like that ought to be "busted" and "stung about $10 a month for three months. I agreed with him, thus enabling the sergeant to fix his own penalty.

Private G, accused by an officer of the military police of being drunk and disorderly in uniform, to the discredit of the military service, and of the grave offense of "willful disobedience of the lawful order of a commissioned officer." This last charge being one which should go before a general court because of its gravity, the papers came to me for investigation. I knew Private G well. He was a tall, lean, quiet piece of human efficiency, always alert, courteous and punctilious in the performance of every duty. I could not imagine him willfully refusing to obey any order. In my investigation I sent for the accusing officer and got his story. Then I talked with others who saw the incident related. This is the foundation on which those charges were made: Private G had gone to a near-by town and fallen from grace. The bootlegger whisky which was sold to soldiers was of such high potentiality that unless one stood on an insulated base when drinking it the kick would knock him down. Two or three drinks of this would crumple up any man. Private G boarded a street car to return to camp, and promptly went to sleep in the corner of his seat. Three other joyous soldiers, but more wakeful than G, came in and sat with him. The three later comers engaged in loud, coarse talk. The officer of military police was a passenger on the car. He walked to where the three wakening soldiers and one sleeping soldier were seated and ordered all four of them to get up and find seats apart and to quit talking. The three wakening ones did as he bid, but Private G stood, or rather sat, fast. He was beyond waking at that time, and because he was beyond waking the officer accused him of “willful disobedience of a lawful order." That young officer who had not sufficient knowledge of our language to know the meaning of the word "willful" had the effrontery to accuse a man of a capital offense. Private G was not tried. He was disciplined, but his record was not marred by any summary court conviction.

ASSORTED DRINKS

Cook H, accused of being drunk and disorderly in uniform and of wilful disobedience of the "lawful order of a non-commissioned officer.' These being charges for a general court to try, it was my duty to investigate them before they were forwarded. I learned that Cook Ĥ boarded a trolley car near camp after having had a sip or two of the celebrated "$20 a pint" poison which made so

many bootleggers rich, and in paying his fare to the conductor jokingly said, "Be sure you turn that in, old timer." The conductor assured Cook H that he would turn it in, considering the incident more as a passing joke than anything else. On the back platform was a noncommissioned officer of military police whose knowledge of the English language was very deficient. He assumed that Cook H and the conductor were quarreling and rushed in, pistol half drawn, to take charge of the situation. Cook H, more amused than offended, began to "kid" the military police. As a result Cook H was "jugged 'jugged" and charges drawn against him. I later tried the case in my capacity as summary court. Cook

H was acquitted and the summary court recommended that men deficient in knowledge of our language be not detailed on military police duty.

Cook Ctanked up" on flavoring extract, Jamaica ginger, Worcestershire sauce, or anything else which had either a real or imaginary kick in it. He was a "regular customer" in my court, and spent most of his time in the guardhouse. I knew, as he well did, that the only place to keep him out of trouble was the guard-house. He did not have will power enough to change his habits, so in justice to the service and mercy to him I changed his habitation.

It is my honest belief that any officer who serves as a summary court or as a

member of a special or general court martial should, as a matter of duty, temper his judgment with mercy, wisely administered, after placing himself as nearly as possible in the shoes of the offender. He must take into account extraneous and related circumstance as affecting the mental or physical condition of the accused man at the time.

Rigid adherence to the letter of our law is bad. The court should remember that "the letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life." The best study of mankind is man. A student of man will not follow the letter and ignore the spirit. He will be fair to the prisoner, to himself, and to the service, and merciful justice rather than vengeance will result.

The man who actually tills the soil is the man who is the foundation of our whole social structure, and if the life of the community is such as to eliminate him, all the rest of the community will pay in the end for his elimination."

I

-Theodore Roosevelt.

SET out on a two months' journey of some 3,500 miles through New England, New York, and Pennsylvania in an effort to find out to what extent conditions are tending to eliminate the man who tills the soil. I talked to hundreds of farmers, farm help, and farm leaders.

What these men and women have told me may be enlightening and educative, but certainly is not entertaining.

I have been informed by unquestioned authority that New England now imports from the South, West, and foreign countries over eighty per cent of its food products, amounting to over $500,000,000 annually, and that the ten Eastern States combined hand over to the South,

BY J. MADISON GATHANY

At The Outlook's request Mr. Gathany during the summer made a personal study of farm conditions on the North Atlantic seaboard, traveling many miles by train, motor car, and on foot to obtain the facts presented in these articles. He interviewed farmers, farmers' wives, hired workers, and heads of farm bureaus and exchanges, and talked to merchants, bankers, and manufacturers in the States of Rhode Island, Massachusetts, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania; and he interviewed numerous farm authorities from Maine, Vermont, and New Hampshire.

-THE EDITORS.

the West, and foreign countries each year more than $1,250,000,000 for foodstuffs. The most lamentable thing about this astonishing statement is that these ten States, if properly cultivated, could raise more food than the people of those States consume. And all the time the great army of agricultural non-producersmiddlemen, merchants, bankers, professionals, transportation workers, and the like is rapidly increasing.

A companion statement fully as astonishing is that more than 5,000,000 acres of land that once were under cultivation in New England are now idle. Transportation charges must be paid upon that $1,250,000,000 worth of foodstuffs brought into the ten Eastern States. This means increased cost of living for the consumers. The recent rise in freight rates will add still more to the burden.

ON THE ROCKS

"Farming only gets attention," said a Massachusetts farmer, "when things go