This little treatise is in part the child of frustration, in part the child of irritation. In a modest way, the writer has been an author. The first book he ever wrote, an opus of several chapters, was called “The Bee Hunter.” The writer was then eighteen. Submitted, on the advice of the late Robert W. Chambers, to his publisher in New York, the young author was surprised to learn that his manuscript was rejected. The publisher tactfully pointed out that even the English translation of Maurice Maeterlinck’s _La Vie des Abeilles_ had lost money for its publisher. The manuscript was put away to gather dust. I believe and trust now that it is lost. It was terrible.…
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