carry a direct appeal to the deep heart of America. We have been hungry for the minor details-for the smaller threads for the fragmentary episodes and incidents-for the rare and delicate and tender touches of color which are needed to complete the picture and to give it beauty, pathos, power and charm.

Ever since, in the lone solitudes of the night, we first began to wonder where our boys were, on the other side-if they were still safe-we have longed for such a book; and so far as our personal observation extends it is the very first book of this character to appear in print, on either side of the water. The experiences of one soldier are not unlike those of another; and every fond parent who reads this book will feel that his or her boy is writing, though it may be that his spirit now looks down upon them from the unseen halls of the Great Valhalla.

The author has not attempted an epic. His little volume is not, in any sense, a romance of chivalry;-it is merely a little memorandum book in which he has penciled his recollections, while these were still fresh in mind, and to keep the bright tints from fading, as they were otherwise bound to do, with the lapse of years. There is no grasping after effect; no hint of pedantry; no suggestion of melodrama; no obsequious fanfare of trumpets. He follows the example of Othello, in "The Moor of Venice"; and, in spite of perilous encounters, in the imminent, deadly breach, hairbreadth escapes and moving accidents, both on field and on flood, he would still

"a round, unvarnished tale deliver."

In a straightforward manner, therefore, he narrates his story, beginning with tearful leave-takings and ending with joyful welcomes back to the home-land. Like a song-bird, in an English hawthorn, he gives us the melody with which his soul is charged, and he pours it forth in an unpremeditated lay.

Aeneas, at the court of Dido, in depicting the scenes of the Trojan War, makes use of the grandiloquent expression: "much of which I saw and part of which I was." He also calls himself the "pious Aeneas"; and he speaks of his renown as reaching above the stars-all of which, if true, might well have been left unsaid. The author of this book was the spectator of scenes far more sanguinary than those which were staged on the plains of Troy. He saw huge monsters of war which dwarfed the wooden horse to a mere insect; and he fought upon fields which decided the fate, not of a single empire but of many, and which affected the whole future of two great hemispheres. Where the fighting was heaviest, Lieutenant Frank Holden was on hand. But his thought is never upon himself; and, with characteristic modesty, he seems to shun rather than to court the limelight, even when compelled by the exigencies of the narrative to use the personal pronouns. There is no offensive egotism. He puts aside the temptation to exploit himself, as he does the temptation to indulge in high-flown rhetoric. He is satisfied merely to inform the reader that he was there, and he wisely leaves to others the task of depicting scenes, which might have baffled a Dante or a Salvator Rosa.

To those of us who live in the sunny latitudes of the United States, between the Savannah and the Chattahoochee Rivers, it is pleasing to reflect that the author is one of us-a Georgian to "the manner born." Pride of kinship and of old acquaintance surges warmly in our veins as we read the gentle narrative before us and realize at every turn of the story that while the author never indulges in heroics, he is none the less a hero. Five times recommended for promotion by superior officers, under whom he immediately served, and commended by them for his devotion to duty and disregard of personal danger, his record is one in which his family may well delight and of which his friends, in every walk of life, are justifiably proud.

On September 13th last, in the State Democratic primary Lieutenant Holden was chosen one of Clarke County's two representatives in the State legislature of Georgia, leading the entire ticket. Of the total vote polled for representative of 2325 he received 1999, something almost unprecedented in a contest of this character.

Lieutenant Holden is a scion of one of the State's oldest households, from both sides of which he is the inheritor of fine traditions which he has gallantly sustained. His father, Judge Horace M. Holden, has ably served on the State's Supreme Bench. His mother, who was a Corry, is a grandniece of the Great Commoner, Honorable Alexander H. Stephens. Not only in accent but in action—in dignified demeanor-in manliness of bearing in every thought which gives an impulse and a character to conduct-he exemplifies the very highest type into which our race has flowered-the Southern Gentleman. Those lines of Bayard Taylor are undoubtedly true to truth; and they are happily illustrated in our young Hotspur:

"The bravest are the tenderest,
The gentle are the daring."

As for this little volume, it is sure to lift the latch of many a home in America, and to tug at the heart-strings of thousands of readers. Though an unpretentious book, it may, for this very reason, and because all unconscious of its mission, win a very definite and distinct place, if not an exalted one, in the literature of the World War. Comrades of the author will read it, because its interesting pages recall the experiences which they all shared in common. will appeal to libraries, because, in an unconventional way, it deals with a topic perennially fascinating and emphasizes qualities of hardihood, of endurance, and of soldiership which are peculiarly American; but, best of all, it will appeal to the firesides of the land, at many of which there

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are vacant chairs, and over all of which there are memories of sacrifice, of suffering and of heroism. The fact, too, that the author comes of distinguished Confederate stock will help to strengthen the bonds of unity; for his book is a noble contribution to the sentiment of a re-united country and of a people, now one forever.

TO GOVERNOR WALKER'S MOTHER: AN
INCIDENT OF INAUGURATION DAY.

[Speech delivered in the Hall of the Georgia House of Representatives, June 30, 1923, on presenting a basket of flowers to the Governor-elect's mother, during the inaugural exercises. It was an unexpected feature of the day's program. The time chosen for the Governor's inauguration was, by a singular coincidence, his mother's birthday, and the presentation of the flowers constituted a most dramatic episode. The speaker was introduced by Senator G. A. Johns, chairman of the Senate Committee on Arrangements.]

Members of the General Assembly, Ladies and Gentlemen:

This is a day of days, for us all, in the calendar of the old commonwealth (applause). But, to the Governor-elect's mother, it is a jubilee of the years. Madam (turning to Mrs. Walker), what a beautiful coincidence!-on your birthday, to witness the inauguration of your boy (great applause). There is your flower of flowers-your gift to Georgia (renewed cheering). But, on behalf of a State which, today, shares your happiness-which, from the hills of Habersham to the marshes of Glynn, is ringing like the bells of Shandon-I am commissioned to present to you this cluster of flowers-Georgia's symbolic gift to you. (Applause.)

Your presence here today, is an omen of peace, of prosperity, of progress, to Georgia, for the next four years. (Applause.) It insures the re-election of Governor Walker, in 1924. (Great cheering.)

It is something more than a mere phrase to call this Mother's Day in Georgia. Methinks that all the proud

mothers of our State, since the days of Oglethorpe, are hovering in the air around us. They have come from every home and hearth-stone-from every hillside and from every valley-to lay a benediction upon those gray hairs. (Applause.) There is music and music. But, when all the keys have been touched and all the chords have been swept and all the minstrels have sung, it still remains that the sweetest of life's lingering strains is "Mother"

And he who fares the best may say
With him who fares the worst,
Man's truest sweetheart, after all,
Is she who loved him first.

(Long continued applause, on the floor and in the galleries.)