So many communications have been received on the subject of

Miss Sitwell's poem and our Literary Editor's commentary that we have been forced, in this instance, to forgo our usual custom of publishing correspondence at length. The following selection from letters gives as fair a representation of readers' opinions as is consistent with the method of quotation :— " You have, perhaps, overlooked Mr. W. H. Ward's special appeal for an explanation of Professor Goose-cap's identity. Surely he must be no old man, but some pond-dwelling creature. The 'chilly, palely crinolined water-lily' hardly indicates a be-muslined dressing-table—if there are such in these post-War days. The face spilled and brittle' doesn't seem human. The whole might be some fantastic picture of a small aquatic kingdom with strange inhabitants known to naturalists. Perhaps Miss Sitwell might solve the riddle for us."—A. M. H.

"If an educated man of superior intellect, at first baffled by a piece of puzzle poetry, should finally crack the bone in his mouth, though he may experience a victor's pleasure in the triumph, he will resent the impertinence—in literal and popular sense—of the poet's attitude. The poet kings of the world have, generally, won their kingdoms by appeal both to heart and intellect ; and though difficult poetry, deliberately made difficult, may sparkle like a 'starry frost, it will never, I think, lead to the supreme achievement, through lack of necessary vital heat."—E. ST. G. Borrs.

"Grotesqueness and obscurity are negations. Why aim at them ? You tell us they are intended to concentrate the reader's thought, even as someone said that paradox was wisdom standing on its head to attract attention. But does true wisdom need such antics ? And if the obscurity be unintentional, can it be anything else than slovenliness of thought or expression—want of taking pains—and for that in any art there can be no excuse. The first two points that caught me in 'The Promenade' were the map-like face and the floating archipelagos. But why ? Because the first at once recalled Maria's description of Malvolio—` he does smile his face into more lines than are in the new map with the augmentation of the Indies '—and the second the adventures of Mr. Kipling's "Brushwood Boy." And what was the Professor doing at his wife's dressing-table ? No man's was ever decorated like that, and only a very Early-Victorian woman's."—W. H. A. C.

"Palely erinolined water-lily!

How, Mr. Ward, can you be so silly ?

Extravagant, oil-sped bones and rickets Can understand this ; without the tickets.

That Amabel Williams-Ellis grants Unspeakably : Baked-moss reeds and organ chants.

Eternity for musk, say ? Muck For exception ; Spanish oranges for Duck.

Tortuous dream-fed Surrey lanes, Snake-hard clouds and centaur stains, Blue cold music, rhythm of rout, Goose-cap knows what it's all about-

Amabel, Goose-cap they both know—

Tell the dusty fogies ? No, why NO.

How dare the hasty critics doubt Satyr's daughter and brandy clout ; Explain, enjoy and keep your place ; Map-gold perhaps may line your face."

Peons. Russen.t.

"Perhaps the man so sensitive to outward appearances as to examine a heavily-lined, strongly-bristled face by means of a mirror standing on a flounced dressing-table suggests in no feeble way a man who has received a cuttingly feminine snub ? And surely this man, as portrayed by Miss Sitwell, possesses a certain intellectual fineness, and we may be glad when he arises from the depth to which he has been un- worthily thrust and that he issues safe though chilled ? If so, the third key lies where the rainbow ends, and unless Mr. W. H. Ward loves as well as knows Malvolio, Don Quixote, Lewis Carroll's White, Knight and others of that ilk, he had better leave the elusive Professor in his obscurity. May I thank your Poetry Editor for pointing the way by which we who are approaching the end of life may keep in touch with the rising generations ? "—B. LESLIE.

"Is there no worthy successor to F. W. Bourdillon and others who delighted us in your columns with gems of purest ray serene ? Truly there are fields Ellisian and Elysian. We would go back to the old-fashioned iambic pentameter." 6—S. HENRY.

"Like your correspondent, I am an old fogy and cannot help myself, but the article of your Poetry Editor would seem to me to imply that the poet best discharges his function when he produces skilfully obscure puzzles, only to be readily understood by the next generation. We old people ask in astonishment if there is any merit in being obscure, and we are surprised to learn that most young people have little or no difficulty in understanding Browning.' We had always thought Browning's wilful obscurity the chief blemish in his poetry."--.TOTIN GARDNER-BROWN.

"I sympathize with Mr. W. H. Ward. I, too, am an old fogy. But I think I can help him. This Neo-Georgian verse is like our futurist painting, composed to please the senses rather than the sense. It saves such a lot of trouble both to the poet and the reader. Poetry is not a conundrum. Whoever wants to know what the nightingale or the thrush or the lark is saying! We have a general instinct that we know what it is all about. We have felt that way ourselves, we old fogies, when the curls shone round the golden fruit- faces of the Victorian lassies. They used a lot of soap and no powder in those days."—AnTnint NORMAN.