Modern Short Stories by Frederick Houk Law

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Title: Modern Short Stories

Author: Various

Release Date: August 16, 2020 [EBook #62942]

Language: English

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They all stood round and laughed at him

MODERN SHORT STORIES

A BOOK FOR HIGH SCHOOLS

EDITED WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES

BY

FREDERICK HOUK LAW, Ph.D.

Lecturer in English in New York University, and Head of

the Department of English in the Stuyvesant

High School, New York City

NEW YORK

THE CENTURY CO.

1921

Copyright, 1918, by
The Century Co.

PREFACE

For many years high school teachers have wished for books of short stories edited for high school use. They have

known that most novels, however interesting, are too long to hold attention, and that too few novels can be read to give
proper appreciation of form in narration. The essay, as seen in The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers, and in Irving’s
Sketch Book, has been a poor substitute for the short story. High school students have longed for action, for
quickness, for life, for climax, for something new and modern. Instead, they have had hundreds of pages, long
expositions, descriptions, leisurely treatment, and material drawn from the past. They have read such material because
they must, and have turned, for relief, to short stories in the cheaper magazines.

The short story is to-day our most common literary product. It is read by everyone. Not every boy or girl will read

novels after leaving school, but every boy or girl is certain to read short stories. It is important in the high school to
guide taste and appreciation in short story reading, so that the reading of days when school life is over will be healthful
and upbuilding. This important duty has been recognized in all the most recent suggestions for high school reading. The
short story is just beginning to take its important place in the high school course. To make use of a book of short stories
in high school work is to fall in line with the most modern developments in the teaching of literature in the high school.

Most collections of short stories that have been prepared, for school use, up to the present, are more or less alike in

drawing much of their material from the past. Authors and content alike are dead. Here is a collection that is entirely
modern. The authors represented are among the leading authors of the day, the stories are principally stories of
present-day life, the themes are themes of present-day thought. The students who read this book will be more awake
to the present, and will be better citizens of to-day.

The great number of stories presented has given opportunity to illustrate different types of short story writing. What

could not be done by the class study of many novels may be accomplished by the study of the different stories in this
book. The student will gain a knowledge of types, of ways of construction, of style, that he could not gain otherwise
except by long-continued study. Class study of the short story leads inevitably to keen appreciation of artistic effects in
fiction.

The introductory material, biographies, explanations, and notes, have been made purely for high school students, in

order to help those who may have read comparatively little, so that,—instead of being turned aside forever by a dry-
as-dust treatment,—they may wish to proceed further in their study.

It is always pure delight to teach the short story to high school classes, but it is even more delightful when the material

is especially fitted for high school work. This book, we hope, will aid both teachers and pupils to come upon many
happy hours in the class room.

The editor acknowledges, with thanks, the kindly permissions to use copyright material that have been granted by the

various authors and publishers. Complete acknowledgments appear in the table of contents.

iii

iv

CONTENTS

PAGE

Preface
iii

Introduction

I
Our National Reading
vii

II
The Definition
vii

III
The Family Tree of the Short Story
ix

IV
A Good Story
xi

V
What Shall I Do with This Book?
xiii

VI
Where to Find Some Good Short Stories
xv

VII
Some Interesting Short Stories
xvi

VIII
What to Read about the Short Story
xix

The Adventures of Simon and Susanna — Joel Chandler Harris From

“Daddy Jake and the Runaways.”

3

The Crow-Child — Mary Mapes Dodge From “The Land of Pluck.”
9

The Soul of the Great Bell — Lafcadio Hearn From “Some Chinese

Ghosts.”

17

The Ten Trails — Ernest Thompson Seton From “Woodmyth and Fable.”
22

Where Love is, There God is Also — Count Leo Tolstoi From “Tales

and Parables.”

23

Wood-Ladies — Perceval Gibbon From “Scribner’s Magazine.”
38

On the Fever Ship — Richard Harding Davis From “The Lion and the

Unicorn.”

53

A Source of Irritation — Stacy Aumonier From “The Century Magazine.”
69

Moti Guj—Mutineer — Rudyard Kipling From “Plain Tales from the

Hills.”

84

Gulliver the Great — Walter A. Dyer From “Gulliver the Great and Other

Stories.”

92

Sonny’s Schoolin’ — Ruth McEnery Stuart From “Sonny, a Christmas

Guest.”

105

Her First Horse Show — David Gray From “Gallops 2.”
117

My Husband’s Book — James Matthew Barrie From “Two of Them.”
135

War — Jack London From “The Night-Born.”
141

The Battle of the Monsters — Morgan Robertson From “Where Angels

Fear to Tread.”

147

A Dilemma — S. Weir Mitchell From “Little Stories.”
160

The Red-Headed League — A. Conan Doyle From “Adventures of

Sherlock Holmes.”

166

One Hundred in the Dark — Owen Johnson From “Murder in Any

Degree.”

192

A Retrieved Reformation — O. Henry From “Roads of Destiny.”
212

Brother Leo — Phyllis Bottome From “The Derelict and Other Stories.”
221

A Fight with Death — Ian Maclaren From “Beside the Bonnie Brier

Bush.”

238

The Dàn-nan-Ròn — Fiona Macleod From “The Dominion of Dreams,

Under the Dark Star.”

248

Notes and Comments
275

Suggestive Questions for Class Use
296

v

vi

INTRODUCTION
vii

I

OUR NATIONAL READING

Is there anyone who has not read a short story? Is there anyone who has not stopped at a news-stand to buy a

short-story magazine? Is there anyone who has not drawn a volume of short stories from the library, or bought one at
the book-store? Short stories are everywhere. There are bed-time stories and fairy stories for little children; athletic
stories, adventure stories, and cheerful good-time stories for boys and girls; humorous stories for those who like to
laugh, and serious stories for those who like to think. The World and his Wife still say, “Tell me a story,” just as they
did a thousand years ago. Our printing presses have fairly roared an answer, and, at this moment, are busy printing
short stories. Even the newspapers, hardly able to find room for news and for advertisements, often give space to re-
printing short stories. Our people are so fond of soda water that some one has laughingly called it our national drink.
Our people of every class, young and old, are so fond of short stories that, with an equal degree of truth, we may call
the short story our national reading.

II

THE DEFINITION

The short story and the railroad are about equally old,—or, rather, equally new, for both were perfected in distinctly

recent times. The railroad is the modern development of older ways of moving people and goods from one place to
another,—of litters, carts, and wagons. The short story is the modern development of older ways of telling what
actually had happened, or might happen, or what might be imagined to happen,—of tales, fables, anecdotes, and
character studies. A great number of men led the way to the locomotive, but it remained for the nineteenth century, in
the person of George Stephenson, to perfect it. In like manner, many authors led the way to the short story of to-day,
but it remained for the nineteenth century, and particularly for Edgar Allan Poe, to perfect it, and give it definition.

Before Poe’s time the short story had sometimes been written well, and sometimes poorly. It had often been of too

great length, wandering, and without point. Poe wrote stories that are different from many earlier stories in that they are
all comparatively short. Another difference is that Poe’s stories do not wander, producing now one effect, and now
another. Like a Roman road, every one goes straight to the point that the maker had in mind at the beginning, and
produces one single effect. In the older stories the writers often turned from the principal subject to introduce other
matter. Poe excluded everything,—no matter how interesting,—that did not lead directly to the effect he wished to
produce. The earlier stories often ended inconclusively. The reader felt that more might be said, or that some other
ending might be possible. Poe tried to write so that the story should be absolutely complete, and its ending the one
necessary ending, with no other ending even to be thought of. With it all, he tried to write so that,—no matter how
improbable the story really might be,—it should, at least, seem entirely probable,—as real as though it had actually
happened.

In general, Poe’s definition of the short story still holds true. There are many kinds of stories to-day,—just as there

are many kinds of engines,—but the great fundamental principles hold true in both. We may still define the modern
short story as:

1. A narrative that is short enough to be read easily at a single sitting;
2. That is written to produce a single impression on the mind of the reader;
3. That excludes everything that does not lead to that single impression;
4. That is complete and final in itself;
5. That has every indication of reality.

viii

ix

III

THE FAMILY TREE OF THE SHORT STORY

Everyone knows his father and mother. Very few, except those of noble descent, know even the names of their

great-great grandparents. As if of the noblest, even of royal descent, the short story knows its family tree. Its
ancestry, like that of the American people, goes back to Europe; draws strength from many races, and finally loses
itself somewhere in the prehistoric East,—in ancient Greece, India, or Egypt.

In the royal galleries kings look at pictures of their great ancestors, and somewhat realize remote the past. Many

of the ancestors of the short story still live. They drank of the fountain of youth, and are as strong and full of life as
ever. Such immortal ancestors of the short story of to-day are The Story of Polyphemus (ninth century, B.C.), The
Story of Pandora and her Box (ninth century, B.C.), The Book of Esther (second century, B.C.), The City Mouse
and the Country Mouse (first century, B.C.), and The Fables of Æsop (third century, A. D.). There are still existing
many Egyptian short stories, some of which are of the most remote antiquity, the Tales of the Magicians going
back to 4000 B.C.

All the stories just named,—and many others equally familiar, drawn from every ancient land,—affected the short

story in English.

In the earliest days in England, in the fifth and in a few succeeding centuries, the priests made collections of short

stories from which they could select illustrative material for the instruction of their hearers. They drew many such
stories from Latin, which, in turn, had drawn them from still more ancient sources. Then, or a little later, came folk
stories, romantic stories of adventure, and other stories for mere amusement.

In the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries the Italians became very skilful in telling short stories, or “novelle.” Their

“new” tales had a lasting effect on short story telling in English.

Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, in the fourteenth century, although in verse, told in a most delightfully realistic way

all kinds of stories from all kinds of sources, particularly from the literatures of Italy and of France. Chaucer told his
stories so remarkably well, with such humor and reality, that he is one of the great forces in the history of the short
story in English.

In the sixteenth century stories from France, Spain, and other lands, also gave new incentives to the development

of the short story in English.

In the eighteenth century Addison’s Spectator published very short realistic narratives that often presented

closely drawn character studies. These are hardly to be called short stories, but they influenced the short story form.

About the beginning of the nineteenth century, partly because of German influence, it became the fashion to write

stories of mystery and horror, such as many of those by Irving, Hawthorne, and Poe. Irving softened such stories by
the touch of realistic humor; Hawthorne gave them artistic form and nobility; Poe developed the full value of the
short story as a literary type, and pointed out the five principles named above. The genius of these men led the way
to the modern short story.

Since their time the short story has moved on in its development, including every kind of subject, tending to speak

more and more realistically of persons and places, but not losing its romantic nature. Popular short stories of to-day
are closely localized, and are frequently quick, incisive, and emphatic.

to-day there are all kinds of short stories,—folk-lore tales, local color stories, animal stories, humorous stories,

stories of society, of satire, of science, of character, of atmosphere, and scores of other types, all virile, interesting,
and profitable.

However well-dressed the modern short story may be in form and style, it is worth little, unless, like its immortal

ancestors, it has the soul of goodness, truth, and beauty, and does something to reveal nobility in the life of man.

x

xi

IV

A GOOD STORY

With houses and stories it is much the same. As any one may build a hut, so any one may compose a short story.

In both cases the materials may be common and cheap, and the construction careless. The one may give shelter
from the storm, and the other may hold attention for a moment. Neither may be worth much. Somewhat better are
the ordinary house, and the ordinary story. Both are good, and fairly well constructed, but the material is frequently
commonplace, and the general characteristics ordinary. To lift either a house or a story out of the ordinary there
must be fine material, artistic workmanship, close and tender association with life,—something beautiful, or good, or
true. For the highest beauty there is need of something other than obedience to rule in construction. Any architect
can tell how to build a beautiful house, but there is a fine beauty no mere architect can give, a beauty that comes with
years, or the close touch of human joys and sorrows. It is the same with stories. We can not analyze the finer
quality, but we can, at least, tell some of the characteristics that make short stories good.

As Poe said, the best short story is short enough to be read at a sitting, so that it produces a single effect. It

includes nothing that does not lead to that effect, and it produces the effect as inevitably as an arrow flies to its mark.
The ending is necessary, the one solution to which everything has moved from the beginning. In some way the story
is close to life, and is so realistically told that the reader is drawn into its magic, and half believes it real.

It has a combination of plot and characters,—the nature of the characters making the action, and the action

affecting the persons involved.

Without action of some sort there would, of course, be no story, but the action,—usually built up of two opposing

forces,—must be woven into plot, that is, into a combination of events that lead to a definite result, perhaps not
known at first by the reader, but known from the beginning by the author. The plot is somewhat simple, for the story
is too short to allow of much complexity. The action and the characters are based on some experience, imaginary or
otherwise, and are honestly presented. In the best short story there is no pronounced artificiality or posing.

There is always a certain harmony of content, so that plot and characters work together naturally, every detail

strictly in keeping with the nature of the story.

The best story has an underlying idea,—not necessarily a moral,—a thought or theme, very often concerned with

ideals of conduct, that can be expressed in a sentence.

Closely associated with everything is an indefinable something, that rises from the story somewhat as the odor of

sandalwood rises from an oriental box, a sort of fragrance, or charm, a deeply appealing characteristic that we call
“atmosphere.”

Some stories may emphasize one point, and others another,—the plot, the characters, the setting, the theme, or

the atmosphere. As they vary thus they reveal new lights, colors, and effects.

Still more do they vary in the charm that comes from apt choice of words, and originality or beauty of phrasing.
Altogether, the best short story is truly an artistic product. The old violins made in Cremona by Antonius

Stradivarius have such perfect harmony of material and form, and were made with such loving skill, that they are
vibrant with tenderly beautiful over-tones. So the best short story is perfectly harmonious in every part, is made from
chosen material, is put together with sympathetic care, and is rich with the over-tones of love, and laughter, and
sorrow.

xii

xiii