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newspapers.

TOCK market news has for several weeks held a fairly permanent place on the front pages of the Reporters have racked their brains to find new metaphors and similes with which to dramatize the violent changes in prices and the tremendous volume of transactions. Rumors of the fortunes won and lost in a day and stories of the all-night labors of brokerage-office employees have run side by side with the latest transatlantic flight bulletins and the reports of the latest oil scandals. The ups and downs of meteoric stocks like Radio and General Motors have been chronicled almost as meticulously as the testimony of Ruth Snyder or Willie Stevens.

And there is no doubt but that the market has earned all this publicity. Its recent history has never been paralleled. Records of every sort have been smashed. Until a few weeks ago the Stock Exchange session of March 3, 1926, in which 3,800,000 shares changed hands, marked the peak of activity. Before the end of March nearly 5,000,000 shares had changed hands in a single session and the financial writers were able to speak of the turnover of more than 4,000,000 shares as "reduced activity."

Speculative enthusiasm was reflected in the prices of seats on the various exchanges. A Stock Exchange seat, which could have been bought a year ago for about $200,000, sold for $375,000, and the demand for memberships in the Curb, Produce, Rubber, and Cocoa Exchanges forced equally steep rises in their values.

Some of the favorite speculative vehicles attained terrific velocity. Radio shot from below par to above 170 in less than three weeks, sometimes hopping more than 20 points overnight, and it took General Motors no longer to race from below 140 to practically 200. Daily gains of from 5 to 10 points were

IN YOSEMITE

OPEN ALL YEAR

All these are familiar symptoms of a country-wide speculative mania. Conservative bankers and financial editors, long before the fever was at its height, wrung their hands and shook their heads and vowed that speculators had built a fool's paradise. Burrowing into history

books and encyclopædias, they found parallels to this enthusiasm and were able to prove conclusively that the inevitable result was a smash. These warnings circulated widely, but the buyers of stocks who had brought about this condition bought more and prices continued to mount. The spirit was so contagious that many more or less thoughtful speculators who thought that stocks were much too high joined the ranks of the bulls just because they were unable to resist the lure of steadily mounting prices.

up.

It is the easiest thing in the world to prove that prices had no business to go Unemployed were standing in bread-lines, car loadings had been declining, and money was growing firmer. But what difference did that make? The public, a collective appellation for the familiar "lambs" of stock market literature, pushed to 200 stocks which statisticians could demonstrate conclusively to be worth less than 125. The experts were in the same position as the sporting writers who had told their readers day after day that Dempsey should have been a 50-to-1 bet against Tunney in their first meeting.

Yet these experts did some very pretty forecasting. As early as last December, many of them outlined quite accurately a series of events in the money market which should have forced stocks down. The schedule ran something like this:

The Federal Reserve System would contract the supply of money by selling Government securities and raising its rediscount rates. Gold would leave the country. Business would grow more active and drain away funds which had been financing speculation. All these withdrawals of credit would so weaken the stock market's structure as to force a collapse.

The Federal Reserve System, the gold supply, and business all followed the schedule, but the market did not. It had not, at least, at the time this was

authorities see anything better than moderate commercial and industrial activity ahead.

The other explanations are public psychology and the downward trend of return on invested capital. Both are probably valid to a certain extent, but it will be interesting to find out which was the most important in the bull market of the spring of 1928-a countrywide speculative urge or changing economic conditions which made a stock which earned ten dollars a year in 1927, other things being equal, worth twice as much as it would have been in 1920.

If the public's speculative frenzy is as unjustified as it was in 1901, the day of

reckoning cannot be far away and the wool sheared from the lambs will be piled higher than ever before.

But there is good reason to believe that the speculators are only obeying economic laws. Always after a great war interest rates have declined. This trend continued for more than thirtyfive years after Waterloo. Without any question, capital is having a hard time finding employment. Agents of American banks are scouring foreign countries offering loans. No one can say dogmatioffering loans. No one can say dogmatically that it is less wise to lend funds to a dangerously placed European nation at 51⁄2 per cent than to buy shares of magnificent American organizations like the General Motors or the General Elec

tric corporations for ten or fifteen times what they earned last year.

The decreasing demand for the present supply of capital has already caused a sharp revision in the relation between security prices and their yields. Strong bonds, that returned as much as 51⁄2 per cent in 1920, now give little more than 4 per cent. Eight years ago a stock that sold for six times its earnings was considered to be none too cheap. Today a stock of any standing at all sells for at least ten times its earnings. If yields continue to shrink, the prices of standard securities must rise further. The stock market may have been going too fast, but it is probably headed in the right direction.

I

T was not her real name, but old black Sarah, faithful Mammy nurse, christened her "Little Missy," and the nickname stuck. She was a handful, that small Southerner, with a terrific energy that was the despair of her more placid family.

"I've finished that. Now what can I do?" was the incessant demand that nearly-turned her mother's hair gray.

So, to keep her quiet, old Sarah told stories of "hants" and horrors dear to a darky's heart, but of pleasanter things too, and of these Missy's favorite was "The Fairy Egg." Mammy's story is really an illuminating bit of Southern social history of the post-Civil War period in fanciful guise.

T

The Fairy Egg

As remembered by the granddaughter of a
Civil War Governor

HERE was once a little Southern girl named Missy. Before the war her family had been rich; her father owned hundreds of slaves and the finest house in town, filled with heirlooms, while her mother's chest held rare old brooches and rings and the loveliest of real lace. Little Missy loved to peep into the lacechest and touch the beautiful wedding veil which had belonged to every bride in the family and which she too would wear some day.

But better even than the veil Missy loved her egg, left her in Grandfather's will. It was real gold, and as pretty a plaything as a little girl's heart could wish, carved all over in tiny Cupids and fairies and roses, with a gold band holding the two halves together, and something inside that rattled when it was shaken. Ever since she could remember Missy had played with her golden toy, and she and old black Mammy had christened it "the fairy egg."

But all that was before the war.

Illustrated by Helen Jameson

When the Yankees won and the slaves went free, Father lay dead on a far battlefield; the family fortune was lost, and there was no one left to serve Missy and her mother but faithful old Mammy. They held their heads high before the neighbors, but one day Missy saw Mother and old Sally whispering together.

"There's nothing else to do," said Mother, wiping her eyes, and Mammy put her arms about her mistress.

"Doan you worry, honey," she comforted. "Ole Sally 'll do her bes' fer you," and that afternoon she stole out the back door with a big flat package wrapped in newspaper.

Dinner was extra fine that night, and Mother looked lovely in her finest lace shawl and her best gold brooch. Missy was so busy enjoying Mammy's wonderful hot biscuit she hardly noticed that they were not served from Great-Grandmother's old silver tray, as usual, but from a common kitchen tray.

Next afternoon old Sally had another errand with a newspaper-covered package, and that night there were crisp waffles and tender chicken, but they drank from plain glass tumblers instead of the beautiful old silver goblets that had been in the family for a hundred years, and Mother wore her second-best shawl and her other gold brooch.

1 The stories in this department are the favorite tales of various families which have been handed down to each succeeding younger generation. The Outlook will be glad to receive and to pay for any such stories which our readers remember from their own childhood and which are found available. They should be told as simply as possible in the language one would use in talking to a child. We should also be glad of suggestions from older and younger readers as to well-known people whom they would be especially interested to have Mrs. Davis interview for stories remembered from childhood.

Every night Missy missed something familiar, and every morning Mammy disappeared with a package and came back with a basket of meat and groceries. But such wonderful meals as she served, always coaxing her mistress to "try jes' a little mo'," for Mother seemed to have lost her appetite.

Still Missy didn't understand, until one day she opened the lace-chest and peeped inside. It was empty. Her beautiful wedding veil was gone.

When Mother found her little girl crying, she sat down beside the chest and cried too. Then she told Missy the truth. Everything had been sold—lace, jewels, silver, old miniatures, even fur niture, just to get enough to eat. Yes terday Sally had sold Missy's wedding veil. And tomorrow Mother, who had never worked in her life, was going out to try to find some teaching to do.

Dinner that night was only cornbread and turnips, and Mother wore no finery. Afterwards, as Missy sat rattling her precious fairy egg and studying the carved Cupids and roses, she noticed Mammy looking at her and whispering

to Mother. But Mother shook her head quickly.

"Oh, no!" she cried. "I couldn't do that. It's all she has left from her grandfather."

Missy rattled her egg loudly, pretending not to understand. No, no-that was too much to ask. She'd rather eat turnips. That night she fell asleep with her cheek pressed against the roses on her precious egg.

Next morning Missy's first thought was the egg. From the window, holding it in both hands, she saw Mother in her shabby bonnet turn at the front gate to smile and wave good-by to her little daughter. Missy sat, turning her egg over and over, but somehow the fairies and Cupids looked less gay and the gold band around the middle seemed to have worn loose.

A long time she watched, and then she saw Mother coming slowly up the street, head high in her shabby bonnet, but her lips were pressed together, and Missy knew what had happened. She had lost the teaching.

Quick as a flash Missy was down the broad stairs and out the big front door. Mother smiled to see her racing along sy mise the wide stone walk, holding out her ym golden egg.

pacag: "Oh, Mother, Mother!" she cried. "It of me a doesn't matter. Don't worry. We can derne sell my"

ing he Then she stumbled and fell flat. The for Vegg flew from her hands and fell crack! etite on the walk. The loose band dropped under off and the two golden halves rolled the apart.

was

But what were those sparkling red stones scattering every which way? Missy didn't even notice her grazed knee and Mother forgot her lost teachsting, while Mammy came waddling from the house, and all three stooped in great excitement to pick them up. For they were rubies-great rare red gems, enough to make them all rich again. Wise old Grandfather had hidden a fortune in Missy's fairy egg.

ad been

Mother

The Movies

(See page 587)

"The Battles of Coronel and Falkland Islands."A British film; well worth your while. "Beau Sabreur."-Pepless desert drama. "Chicago."-See what the movies can do when they try.

The Circus."-Charlie Chaplin's newest, and one of his best.

The Count of Ten."-James Gleason and Charles

Ray in a good ring drama.

"The Crowd."-King Vidor is a great director. The story is slim and depressing.

"Czar Ivan the Terrible."-Hectic, but interesting Russian-made film.

"The Divine Woman."-Greta Garbo has a tough.

time with this one.

"Dressed to Kill."-Excellent crook melodrama. "Drums of Love."-A big eyeful from D. W. Griffith.

"Finders Keepers."-Laura La Plante, and some hard-pressed humor.

"Four Sons."-Beauty, skill, tears, and hokum. "The Gaucho."-Douglas Fairbanks is good.

this one he needs to be.

In

"Gentlemen Prefer Blondes."-Plenty of chuckles

for the business man.

"A Girl in Every Port."-A pretty feeble vehicle for the large Victor McLaglen.

"The Jazz Singer."-Al Jolson + Vitaphone

Price of Admission.

=

"The Last Command."-Emil Jannings in a pic

ture worthy of him.

"The Last Moment."-Interesting photographic tricks, if you like them.

"The Latest from Paris."-Something pleasantly innocuous, with Norma Shearer.

"The Legion of the Condemned."-After "Wings." A long way after.

"Love Me and the World is Mine."-For insomniacs and very young cash-girls.

"Mother Machree."-For the Irish vote.

nice.

Very

"The Noose."-A pretty fair Richard Barthelmess

picture.

"Rose Marie."-Run!

again.

Here's the Mounted Police

"Sadie Thompson."-Gloria Swanson and Lionel Barrymore trying not to play "Rain."

"The Secret Hour.""They Knew What They Wanted" dolled up for the screen with Pola

Negri and Jean Hersholt.

Good.

"The Showdown."-Tropical mix-up, and how. "Simba."-See it-you'll thank us.

"The Smart Set."You'll die outside, seeking air. "Soft Living."-A nice enough little drama, with Madge Bellamy.

"The Student Prince."-A Lubitsch production. Don't miss it.

"Sunrise."-The best picture on any screen to

day.

"Tenderloin."-The talking picture.

to do better.

They'll have

"That's My Daddy."-Reginald Denny in a pleas

ant farce.

The Trail of '98."-Big Alaskan

with some grand scenes.

melodrama,

"Wings."-A war picture with a big wallop.

Where the new South advances amid charming old settings

YOR two hundred and fifty years South

Carolina has kept traditional open house. Her famous hospitality has beckoned thousands to the enjoyment of her sunny skies, her charming people and her Colonial period cities. South Carolina now offers even more unique inducements to investors.

, As in other Southern states, that industrial giant... hydro-electric power... has supplied the impetus to the business renaissance of South Carolina. Close to one hundred millions of dollars already has been placed here in electric power development... the Duke interests, alone, have so far invested in plants which produce 444,000 horsepower of electricity within the state.

South Carolina is now the chief cotton

"We bank on

cloth producing state and is steadily acquir ing other industries. Her farms raise salable produce every month in the year. She is located within 20 to 28 hours of America's greatest markets and has adequate rail and favorable water facilities. She has today the third greatest amount of electric power, developed and definitely projected, of all the States in the Union. In short, South Carolina is one of America's finest potential

Are You Planning a Vacation this Year?

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on special rates-sailings-hotels and camps-motor
tours or "drive your own car" in this country or abroad.

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We maintain this service-an unusually personal onefor our friends and readers.

This means YOU. We welcome inquiries. Write

EVA R. DIXON, Director
OUTLOOK TRAVEL BUREAU

NEW YORK: 120 East 16th Street

PARIS: 21 Rue Tronche

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to Europe be like? Will you trust to luck to overcome the difficulties of foreign languages, customs, prices and the intricacies of passports, timetables, sightseeing arrangements? Will you start unprepared and learn from experience just what to do and what not to do where to go and the places to avoid?

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TH

HE books in greatest demand are usually those most discussed. The following list is compiled from the lists of the ten best-selling volumes sent us by wire by eight book-shops each week. These particular book-shops were chosen because we think that they reflect the tastes of the more representative readers. These shops are as follows:

New York-Brentano's.
Rochester-Scrantoms Inc.
Cleveland-Korner & Wood.
St. Louis-Scruggs, Vandevoort,
& Barney.

Denver-Kendrick Bellamy Co.
Houston-Teolin Pillot Company.
San Francisco-Paul Elder & Co.
Baltimore-Norman, Remington
Company.

Fiction

"The Bridge of San Luis Rey," by Thornton Wilder. Albert & Charles Boni. In this book widely divergent lives are brought to the same, simultaneous end, thus giving the author the opportunity to unite in a pattern otherwise unrelated character studies. It is a wise and moving account of the workings of God's providence, beautifully written. Its popularity speaks well for our discrimination as readers. Reviewed January 4. "The Greene Murder Case," by S. S. Van Dine. Charles Scribner's Sons. The story of a detective story must never be told. It is sufficient to say that lovers of this sort of fiction find "The Greene Murder Case" a good one. There is a death of some sort in almost every chapter. But the one person whom we, personally, would be glad to murder, the society detective, is still alive on the last page, casting his pearls of Latin quotation, Russian cigarette, and French persiflage before the unappreciative police. "Wintersmoon," by Hugh Walpole. Doubleday, Doran & Co. You will enjoy this fine comedy of manners. It is the story of two sisters. One makes a marriage of convenience into a true marriage; the other carries her marriage of passion into tragedy. Some characters from "The Duchess of Wrexe" reappear in The a brilliant London setting. dialogue, the satire, and the human sympathy are Walpole at his best.. Reviewed March 7. "Crusade," by Donn Byrne. Little, Brown & Co. You will find this tale of Miles O'Neill, Crusader to the Holy Land, an interesting story of warring Christian sects, sinister Templars, Saracen wisdom and tolerance, and Irish fighting and love-making, written with poetic charm and warm humanity. Reviewed March 28. "Etched in Moonlight," by James Stephens. The Macmillan Company. In the seven stories of this book James Stephens writes of dreams. Not all of them are the dreams of sleep, but all partake of that dream quality of mysterious terror, breath-taking beauty, and sorrowfulness too heavy and too intangible for speech. Further, they are evidence of the author's great versatility. Stephens is always the poet, but he is confined to no set of forms. The story "Hunger" is as fine a piece of short-story writing as we have seen in contemporary work.

Non-Fiction

"Disraeli," by André Maurois, translated by Hamish Miles. D. Appleton & Co. Those who enjoyed "Ariel" will want to read this and the change of subject from revolutionary poet to imperialistic statesman need not deter them. Disraeli, a romantic figure of an almost fictional type, is a happy choice for an imaginative biography. Maurois breathes life into the Victorian political figures. viewed by Lawrence F. Abbott, February 22. "Trader Horn," by Alfred Aloysius Horn and Ethelreda Lewis. Simon & Schuster. The romantic story of an ancient adventurer, full of poetry, guileless wisdom, action, and more or less reliable information. Reviewed November 16.

Re

"Mother India," by Katherine Mayo. Harcourt, Brace & Co. This account of some aspects of Indian society is not calculated to endear us to India, but is providing lively reading for lots of Americans We suggest that they follow it with "A Son of Mother India," by Dhan Gopal Mukerji, E. P. Dutton & Co. Reviewed June 22.

"Strange Interlude." by Eugene O'Neill.

Boni & Liveright. This, "the first successful attempt of drama to use the double voice," to carry on at once objective action and comment and subjective thought made audible, is a theft by the dramatist of some of the novelist's best thunder. The play is as good to read as to see; perhaps better for students of modern drama. Reviewed by Francis Rellamy in "Lights Down," February 22.

R.

"Safari," by Martin Johnson, G. P. Putnam's Sons. This is made from the diary of forr years spent in Africa, on the edge of th greatest remaining paradise of wild anima, The story is always interesting, often exciting. And the pictures, taken by Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, are wonderful-lions, elephants. 'nevrything.

TH

All Sorts of Books

HE space limits of this depart ment permit the reviewing of about one in ten of the noteworthy books which are published. Books of literary value, useful books, entertaining and informative ones, have to be left out all the time. And so some tastes are necessarily neglected. It is in the hope of repairing that neglect that the following recent books are named No critical comment is made upon them except the general one that their inclu sion in this list is in itself a favorable comment. With so little room, we are not going to try swinging any literary

cats, no matter how good fun it is. You cannot go wrong on these books if their subjects invite you.

"Olives of Endless Age," by H. N. Brailsford (Harper & Brothers). This is a study of this distracted world and its need of unity by a very gifted writer and a practical idealist.

"The Restless Pacific," by Nicholas Roosevelt (Charles Scribner's Sons The problem of American policy in the East ably discussed from an imperialisti bias.

"China, Where It Is and Why," by T. F. Millard (Harcourt, Brace & Co.). Especially interesting to read in connec tion with the above-mentioned book, this gives an intelligent appraisal of the rela tion of the new China to the Powers.

"Empire to Commonwealth," by W P. Hall (Henry Holt & Co.). A com parison of the forces within the British Empire making for cohesion with those. which make for disruption. Independent in tone and admirably written.

"Young India," by Mahatma Gandhi (The Viking Press), a new collection of papers by the great Hindu teacher and leader, and "The British Connection with India," by K. T. Paul (Studen Christian Movement), are valuable to students of Oriental affairs; and the first should be read by all readers of "Mother India."

"Urbanization," by John G. Thomp son (E. P. Dutton & Co.), and "Stand ing Room Only?" by Edward A. Ros (The Century Company). Studies, the one of the effect upon civilization of the