A NEW DARTMOUTH NOVEL

(Reviewed by C. B. P.)

TOUCHSTONE. By BEN AMES WILLIAMS. 1910 E. P. Dutton Co., New York.

Still a new field tempts Mr. Williams, it would seem from his latest book. Adventure, mystery, and pleasant fiction studies have come from his prolific hand, and now enters the field of psychological analysis. Further, he centers his story upon the workings of maternal love under severe stress. If this seems to readers an unusual field for a writer to explore, they should in fairness read the book. Then it becomes a matter of opinion. There is no arbitrary decision if the picture is true or not. If the reviewer labels it an invalid and imperfect study, there will be a storm of readers to say they know just such a woman. If the reviewer subscribes to Mr. Williams's ideas, another storm will blow from the opposite quarter. One thing that helps to forestall a final opinion is the network of complications in which Mr. Williams entangles his characters. So far from normal conception are they, such extra-normal elements must be considered, that usual standards are useless.

A DARTMOUTH INCIDENT

The stage of "Touchstone" is peopled by a mother and father, their twin sons and three girls who play more or less lay parts in the plot. The first scene is a pleasant enough one—a big game at the Stadium with Mr. and Mrs. Caterson creeping toward the gates in their archaic and eminently respectable limousine. The sedan would have been easier to handle, but Mrs. Caterson smiles. "It's an old habit with me, Joe. When I want to be particularly splendid, this is my way of doing it." She wants to be particularly splendid because she is to watch her two boys play against Harvard. Her affection is brimming and its ebullience imperils her matronly dignity. In their seats at least, they talk of the boys, who are students at an unnamed college, presumably Dartmouth. Here for the first time is mentioned the twinship of the boys and that they jealously conceal the fact. A Transcript writer suspected it and inquired, but was put off. The game gets under way and Tony's brilliant work means a winning score. Sandy, in the line, works sturdily but unobtrusively. A technicality, whether a rolling punt brushed Tony or not, gives Harvard a score, although Tony asserts the ball had not touched him. The post-game celebration and the weekend festivities occupy the young people and then they are back to college.

Later the boys are on the farm or abroad for the summer; then back for their senior year. The unobtrusive Sandy, not the flashing Tony, has been elected captain. Yet Tony has innumerable friends, his brilliance and wit winning him high place in the affection of all who meet him. Sandy is no less likeable, but is less extravagant in his friendships. Tony has asked Nina, their chum since boyhood, to marry him and she has put him off until he graduates. But then it is Sandy, not Tony, who wins her. In business, Tony's speculation goes wrong and Sandy's investments prosper. Sandy moves on a sure and sincere course in his love affairs, Tony's excursions either fall flat or send back an undesirable cargo. Finally the complications pile up to a dangerous peak. As they totter, his father and his brother venture to help him clear things away, but he puts them off with a wry joke. His false structure is about to topple, and he sees a sure and swift means of getting out from under. Solying his own problem, he provides the parents with a clear answer to their troubled inward query.

LIKE "SPLENDOR"

This, then, is what occurs. It is evident that Mr. Williams has immunized himself from certain phases of criticism by the choice of such unlikely situations. If a given episode is rare or obscure, it is hard to say whether people are reacting validly to it. However, a reader can have his say as to the characters. As things point to a definite conclusion, the reader has an uncomfortable sense of unfairness. And when things are over one has a definite feeling of brushing against a particularly unpleasant smugness. The pity is all for Tony, whose every act is wilfully colored by the taint. His derelictions apparently are gratefully received by the parents as signs that he is not their boy. All hands become smug reformers, trying to help him but very definitely pointing the finger. As a matter of fact, Mrs. Caterson is as unreal and imperfect a characterization as can be imagined. Her relationships with Tony would scandalize a psychiatrist, at least such amateur ones as read novels. In his men, Mr. Williams shows a surer, even masterful touch. Sandy and his father are just such men as Mr. Williams paints best. This type of work made "Splendor" the appealing novel it is. Far be it from the public to limit a man's scope. But it is reasonable to want him to know and indulge his forte. Boston Transcript