p.

Bed Time Stories with a horrid
accident in every one. So you see I
am indignant - Stoddard's private
admiration for my poems is more
than his public - he is now overwhelmed
with poems and letters from unknown
young ones - whose foolishness is
unspeakable. The other day a paper
with a long biography and portrait
came from Illinois - long poem of
county kerry was in it - What a poem
that is - what grace, and clearness.
Very few of the reviews were good for
much. Loan wrote pretty well in
Appletons - and Congden in the N A
Review was better - the Atlantic was
funny. Ripley's review was worthless
all showy, glittering praise - not a
sound, wholesome word in it
like all his critisisms on poetry
and male belle-lettre literature.
Oh if we could have sound criticism
in our country - we should have better books
but what a wailing and weeping
there would be among our American shes. You know I be-