Everything this whole poverty-stricken school has produced shows that our literature has fallen upon evil days.

The grovellers! They don't rise above the moral level of the tumblebug.

Read the latest book.

What do you find?
Simple anecdotes: murder, suicide, and accident histories copied right out of the newspaper, tiresome sketches and wormy tales, all written in a colorless style and containing not the faintest hint of an outlook on life nor an appreciation of human nature.

When I have waded through one of these books its insipid descriptions and interminable harangues go instantly out of my mind, and the only impression that remains is one of surprise that a man can write three or four hundred pages when he has absolutely nothing to reveal to us--nothing to say!" "If it's all the same to you, Des Hermies, let's speak of something else.