Cincinnati Reds: Jack Hendricks, manager, Northwestern U.; Pete Donohue, Texas Christian U.; Eppa Rixey, U. of Virginia; Art Nehf, Rose Poly.; Horace Ford, Tufts; Hugh Critz, Mississippi A. and M.; George Kelly, California Poly.; Ethan Allan, U. of Cincinnati. Pittsburgh Pirates: Glenn Wright, Missouri; Paul Waner, East Central College (Oklahoma); Hazen Cuyler, U. S. M. A.; Joe Cronin, Sacred Heart College (San Francisco); Clyde Barnhart, U. of Pennsylvania; Vic Aldridge, Central Normal of Indiana.

New York Giants: John McGraw, manager, St.
Bonaventure; Roger Bresnahan, coach, Notre
Dame; Travis Jackson, Ouachita Baptist Col-
lege; Ned Porter, U. of Florida; Howard
Holland, U. of Virginia; Andy Reese, Van-
derbilt U.; Al Tyson, Georgetown U.; Foy
Thomas, U. of Southern California; Leslie
Mann, Springfield College; Fred Lindstrom,
Loyola; Walter Brown, Brown U.

Brooklyn Robins: Max Carey, Concordia College;
Harvey Hendrick, Vanderbilt; Jim Partridge,
Oglethorpe; Billy Rheil, Newberry College;
Hank DeBerry, University of Tennessee;
D'Arcy Flowers, Washington College.
Boston Braves: Walter Gautreau, Holy Cross;
Charley Robertson, Austin College; Harold
Goldsmith, St. Lawrence College; Maurice
Burrus, North Carolina State; Foster Edwards,
Dartmouth; Eddie Farrell, U. of Penn.
Chicago Cubs: Cliff Heathcote, Penn State; How-
ard Freigau, Ohio Wesleyan; Fred Blake, West
Virginia Wesleyan; Riggs Stephenson, Alabama.
Philadelphia Phillies: Cy Williams, Notre Dame;
Chick Thompson, Columbia; Barney Friberg,
Colby; Deland Dunham, Bloomington Col-
lege; Hub Pruett, Missouri.

AMERICAN LEAGUE

New York Yankees: Myles Thomas, Penn State; Benny Bengough, Niagara; Mike Gazella,

**

Lafayette; Joe Dugan, Holy Cross; Lou Gehrig, Columbia; Walter Ruether, St. Ignatius; Waite Hoyt, Middlebury; Ray Morehart, Austin College; Ed. Phillips, Boston College.

Cleveland Indians: Joe Sewell, Alabama; Luke Sewell, Alabama; Pat McNulty, Ohio State; Walter Miller, Ohio State; Homer Summa, Missouri; Fred Spurgeon, Kalamazoo and Valparaiso; Emil Levsen, Iowa State; Joe Shaute, Juniata College.

Philadelphia Athletics: Gordon Cochrane, Boston University; Eddie Collins, Columbia; Walter French, Rutgers and U. S. M. A.; Chick Galloway, Presbyterian College of South Carolina; Max Bishop, Baltimore City College; Bill Lamar, St. John's of Annapolis.

Chicago White Sox: Ted Lyons, Baylor; Bib Falk, Texas; Harry McCurdy, Illinois; Moe Berg, Princeton; Urban Faber, St. Joseph's College; Chester Falk, Texas; Alphonse Thomas, Baltimore City College; Bill Hunnefield, Colgate; George Connally, Meridan College of Texas; Bill Clancy, St. Viator's.

Detroit Tigers: Harry Heilmann, Sacred Heart College of San Francisco; Owen Carroll, Holy Cross; Edwin Wells, Bethany; Charles Gehringer, Michigan.

St. Louis Browns: George Sisler, Michigan; Spencer Adams, U. of Utah; Ernie Wingard, Alabama; Ernie Nevers, Stanford.

Boston Red Sox: William Carrigan, Manager, Holy Cross; Bryan Harriss, Howard Payne College of Houston; Fred Wingfield, Ohio State; Walter Shaner, V. M. I.; Buddy Myer, Mississippi A. and M.

Washington Senators: Willard Morrell, Tufts; Emory Rigney, Texas A. and M.; Harold Ruel, Washington College; Bobby Reeves, Ga. Tech.; Irving Hadley, Boston College; George Murray, Fordham; Tom Zachary, Guilford College.

WE

E are cursed with organization. The immense number and variety of time-saving devices have left less time for anything valuable or important. Those men whose successful actions should be the fruit of sessions of silent thought have no leisure for meditation. Some men are so busy that they have no opportunity to become acquainted with themselves, and are shocked when they find out from others the kind of persons they really are. Many leaders in the business and professional world have no time for consecutive thinking except after a major operation. There are too many committees and I know of no more certain way to waste time and energy than by committee meetings. It is better to give the job, whatever it is, to one man, and hold him responsible. Instead of attending a committee meeting, where some come late, and those who were not at the last meeting have to have the matter explained to them, let each man be responsible for one thing, and hold a meeting (at his convenience) with himself -he may find out what kind of a man he is, instead of being so wastefully active as never to know and never to live. A college president should be a leader in educational policy, which means that he should have time to think, to develop the fruits of thought and experience; but his time is taken up with "seeing people," with details, with machinery. Machinery is no good unless it fulfils its purpose which is to make something. The pastor of a large city church is so busy in organization that his original animating purpose is lost-how can he communicate the life of the spirit to others, when it is many years since he has lived it himself? College teachers should be thoroughly and increasingly familiar with the subject (their specialty) and with the object (their pupils); but how can they be, if they rush from one committee meeting to another, and spend so much energy on the machin

ery of education that no one, not even themselves, can become educated? Nothing is more important, in a kindergarten, and in a Graduate School, than the relation between teacher and pupil; let us minimize the machinery and get back to teaching. Organization is the thief of time.

After writing the above paragraph, I read in Ed Snover's column in the Port Huron Times Herald:

System is something by which a fellow is enabled to use $9 worth of stationery and $17 worth of time to obtain a 10-cent bottle of red ink from the stores department of the corporation for which he works.

The death of Keith Preston, literary editor of the Chicago Daily News, is a national calamity. He died June 7, at the age of forty-two. After being professor of Latin at Northwestern University, he entered journalism, and was one of America's shining lights, for the best foundation for a newspaper career is a classical education. Mr. Preston conducted the book department of The News, and in addition a daily column of wit and humor and satire in prose and verse. Harry Hansen, in the New York World wrote an admirable tribute to his memory, ability, and influence, and quoted, among other things, the epigrammatic

THE LIBERATORS
Among our literary scenes,

Saddest this sight to me,
The graves of little magazines

That died to make verse free.

A work that Keith Preston would have enjoyed is "Reliquiæ," by the late A. D. Godley, public orator of the University of Oxford. It is in two volumes, edited by C. R. L. Fletcher, and consists of light and serious essays in prose and verse, in English, French, Latin, and Greek.

Travelling in America in 1913, he saw a copy of the Oxford University Gazette: Far hence a lonely exile strayed

By dark Potomac's brim;
The world Columbus erst surveyed
Was now surveyed by him:

He pined to view with yearning eye
His own domestic hob,

Nor solaced was by Pumpkin Pie,

Nor cheered by Corn-on-Cob!..

'Twas then, 'mid alien scenes and men,
All in that distant place

There dawned upon his visual ken
One, one familiar face!

Amid that Press of Yellow hue

One sheet was yellower yet:

were often not too modest, did not meet with a single refusal from any European country or any institution in the United States. This is one more proof of the rapid restoration of international scientific relations, which the war seemed at one time to have shattered irrevocably. . . . I dedicate the book to the University of Wisconsin. In the darkest hour of my life the University of Wisconsin made it possible for me to resume my learned studies and carry them on without interruption.

Another Oxford Bible has appeared; this one is called "The Dormitory Bible," and is advertised as "The Largest Type Hand Bible in the smallest compass

NIVERSITY GAZETTE!

In deep amaze the Wanderer sat,
Nor checked a natural tear;
"Tremendous Rag!" he cried, "and what
(In Thunder) dost thou here?
Are these the things that Georgia reads
And Texas wants to know?
Are Congregation's last misdeeds
The theme of Idaho?"

A work of immense learning and wide interest, the kind of Weltgeschichte that we more often associate with Continental than with American professorial learning is "A History of the Ancient World," by M. Rostovtzeff, professor of Ancient History at Yale. The author wrote it in Russian; the admirable English translation is by the accomplished scholar, J. D. Duff, of Trinity College, Cambridge, who made so fine a version of Aksakov. After studying and teaching in Russian universities,

Professor Rostovtzeff came to the Univer

sity of Wisconsin, and later accepted a

call to Yale. It was while he was at Wisconsin, lecturing (in English) on Ancient History to freshmen, that this book was planned and partly written. Two large tomes have already appeared, the first dealing with the Orient and Greece, the second with Rome. Each volume contains over four hundred pages, and is copiously illustrated. These quotations from the preface are significant:

My own interests and studies have been directed, and are still directed, to certain subjects in particular. ... But I have done all I could to prevent the matters in which I am specially interested from being too prominent. ... My requests, which VOL. LXXXII.—32

type. Following the Gideon idea, it is hoped to have a copy in every dormitory room in every school and college.

We are all familiar with Dutch New York; but how many Americans are familiar with Dutch York? Well, if you read J. S. Fletcher's latest novel, "The Harvest Moon," you will acquire much interesting information about the Dutch descendants with Dutch names, characteristics, and furniture, in the southread an excellent story with a heroine eastern parts of Yorkshire. You will also somewhat like Eugénie Grandet. Mr. somewhat like Eugénie Grandet. Mr. Fletcher is so accurate in terrestrial descriptions it seems unfortunate that he should blunder so egregiously in things celestial, especially when one remembers the title of his novel; but the same thing the title of his novel; but the same thing Moon," by the accomplished and able happens in a novel called "The Crescent of Mr. Fletcher's new story, occurs this writer, Francis Brett Young. On page 31

insult to astronomy:

Archibald Marshall has taken a few months off, and written a diverting tale, quite out of his ordinary line, called "That Island," giving the adventures of a shipwrecked party among rather agreeable savages. The events are improbable, but the people are probable. The chief skill shown in this narrative is, as might be expected, in the portrayal of character. There are no heroes, no heroines, and no real villains; the persons are a mixture of good and evil, of wisdom and folly, of cleverness and stupidity, as is the way of all flesh. Some things in this book, notably the use of the wrecked ship as a base of supplies, will remind the reader of "Robinson Crusoe"; other events and characters will remind him of that marvellous masterpiece of humor, Frank Stockton's "The Casting Away of Mrs. Lecks and Mrs. Aleshine." A short time ago I reread that novel, to see if it still retained for me its freshness, whimsicality, originality, fun, and charm; it did. All those who used to enjoy it should read it again; and to those who never heard of it, let me say that you have awaiting you, within the covers of that book, some hours of undiluted delight.

No history of American literature should omit the name of Frank Stockton. Some thrillers of high voltage: "Rainbow Island," by Mark Caywood. Here the author presents the perfect hero, athletic, intelligent, resourceful, who has unaccountably remained a bachelor. A seafaring man, he is technically a mate, but finds the perfect one in the neat and lovely heroine, who, although young and ravishingly beautiful, is a capable woman. The devilish villain finds that he is mated by the mate and his mate.

I have just read in book form "The 'Canary' Murder Case," by S. S. Van

Dine, which many Scribnerians have been enjoying serially. It is a complicated and ingenious tale, filled with surprises. I salute the author. I did not correctly guess the murderer until the poker game; I feel sure that Mr. Van Dine intended every one to spot the right man at that moment, for I have never before guessed correctly the solution of a murder mystery. My stupidity in this respect arises, I suppose, from my lack of ability in mathematics.

Another thrilling murder case is found in the novel "Greymarsh," by Arthur Rees, a Norfolk tale of the shore of the North Sea. Incidentally there are fine landscapes and seascapes in this wellwritten book, but the chief interest, of course, is in the solution of the mystery. For a time it seems as if it must involve a member of the house-party, as in Ben Ames Williams's snowed-in company; but-well, find out for yourself.

"The Tragedy at Freyne," by Anthony Gilbert, is again the story of a pleasant house-party in England, where the host is murdered. Disappointed love, jealousies, golf-games, and morphia-addicts constitute the well-mixed ingredients. No wonder the detective is puzzled; only the coroner is certain, and he is mistaken.

The American humorist, Ring W. Lardner, has amused himself and the public by writing a portentously horrifical autobiography, "The Story of a Wonder Man," with exceedingly appropriate illustrations. Those who solemnly disapprove of puns should read this volume. What such wiseacres need is to be shocked out of their five wits; this work will do the trick. Not the least amusing part of the strange, eventful history is in the footnotes by editor and by author. They are often discordant notes, but not to be discounted. In fact, it may sincerely be called a note-worthy book.

To lovers of Dante I recommend a small and attractive volume published by Heath Cranton, 6 Fleet Lane, London. It is called "The Beauties of the Divine Comedy," chosen and translated by Thomas Watson Duncan. For the benefit of that "interesting class of persons who prefer statistics to poetry" (A. Birrell), I read that there are 14,234 lines in the

"Divine Comedy"; Mr. Duncan has selected 5,866. The Italian is given on the left-hand pages, the English prose version on the right. This is a good book. Another excellent Dante book is "The Minor Poems of Dante," translated into English verse by Lorna de' Lucchi.

To that vast number of people who read with joy H. W. Fowler's "Modern English Usage" let me emphatically recommend Ernest Weekley's "Words Ancient and Modern." Professor Weekley has no end of fun with words. I open

this little book at random and find:

WRETCH

That beef and cow are ultimately the same word is one of those facts that delight the student of etymology and provoke the incredulous bray of the ignorant. Similarly wretch and gossoon have not a sound or a letter in common, but it is not difficult to establish their ultimate identity. (He then establishes it.)

I have been wondering who, in these anti-Victorian days, would cast the first stone at Addison. For Addison, though he lived in the time of Anne, had the Victorian virtues of decency, restraint, piety, and respectability. Of course Pope wrote a brilliant and poisonous satire against his dignified contemporary; but that work of genius is a better portrait of the writer than of his victim. Well, Addison has at last received his long-awaited tribute of scorn. In a highly interesting and diverting book, written from the Restoration point of view, by Bonamy Dobrée, and called "Essays in Biography, 1680-1726," containing fifty pages on Etherege and over a hundred on Vanbrugh, there are 140 pages on Addison, who is called "The First Victorian." I do not know where one can find a clearer statement of the view of life, character, and morality held to-day by many, than in Mr. Dobrée's remark on page 335:

care little for a virtue that is not spontaneous, for a charitable action that is the result of thought rather than of impulse.

Such a statement is worth serious consideration; and how true it would be if only

unselfishness were instinctive rather than selfishness! Carried to its logical conclusion, Mr. Dobrée would have more admiration for the man who was naturally fearless than for the man who was instinctively afraid yet controlled his fear and played the part of a hero. Now it is not rather man's ability to control them. the instincts of men that I admire, but Hamlet was right when he said:

Give me that man

That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him

In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, As I do thee.

Some like one kind of book, some another; but all those who read anything except trash will enjoy "The Surgeon's Log," by J. Johnston Abraham. This is a new edition, with illustrations, of a book first published in 1911. Doctor Abraham is a distinguished surgeon, with a long list of medals and degrees, and an office on Harley Street. Warned by another specialist that he must go away and rest, he went in a manner that should be recommended to all physicians who need a year's vacation. He took the post of surgeon on a ship bound from Liverpool for the Far East; thus he travelled in otium cum dignitate, had all his expenses paid, earned a modest stipend, and gave that ship the finest medical services it could ever hope to have. The voyage not only cured him of whatever was the matter with him, it made him a successful author, for this book has had immense popularity. It is one of the most entertaining travelchronicles I have seen.

An excellent series of Lay Sermons is "Case and Comment: Meditations of a Layman on the Christian Year," by the accomplished journalist Louis Howland. These meditations are both religious and practical, being the aspiring thoughts of a common-sensible man.