Excerpt from Margret Howth: A Story of to-Day Mystory is very crude and homely, as I said, -only\a rough sketch of one or two of those people whom you see every day, and call dregs, sometimes, - a dull, plain bit of prose, such as you might pick for yourself out of any of these warehouses or back-streets. I expect you to call it stale and plebeian, for I know the glimpses of life it pleases you best to find; idyls delicately tinted; passion-veined hearts, out bare for curious eyes; prophetic utterances, concrete and clear; or some word of pathos or fun from the old friends who have endenizened themselves in everybody's home. You want something, in fact, to lift you out of this crowded, tobacco-stained commonplace, to kindle and chafe and glow in you. I want you to dig into this commonplace, this vulgar American life, and see what is in it. Some times I think it has a new and awful sig nificance that we do not see.

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