(The Little Review, April).
11. Blue Ice, by Joseph Hergesheimer (Saturday Evening Post, December 13).
12. Innocence, by Rupert Hughes (Cosmopolitan, September).
13. Humoresque, by Fannie Hurst (Cosmopolitan, March).
14. The Yellow Streak, by Ellen La Motte (Century, March).
15. The Elephant Remembers, by Edison Marshall (Everybody's, October).
16. England to America, by Margaret Prescott Montague (Atlantic, September).
17. Five Thousand Dollars Reward, by Melville D. Post (Saturday Evening Post, February 15).
18. The Lubbeny Kiss, by Louise Rice (Ainslee's, October).
19. The High Cost of Conscience, by Beatrice Ravenel (Harper's, January).
20. The Red Mark, by John Russell (Collier's, April 15).
21. The Trap, by Myra Sawhill (American, May).
22. Evening Primroses, by Anne D. Sedgwick (Atlantic, July).
23. Autumn Crocuses, by Anne D. Sedgwick (Atlantic, August).
24. The Blood of the Dragon, by Thomas Grant Springer (Live Stories, May).
25. Contact, by Wilbur Daniel Steele (Harper's, March).
26. For They Know not What They Do, by Wilbur Daniel Steele (Pictorial Review, July).
27. La Guiablesse, by Wilbur Daniel Steele (Harpers, September).
28. On Strike, by Albert Payson Terhune (The Popular Magazine, October).
29. The Other Room, by Mary Heaton Vorse (McCall's, April).
30. They Grind Exceeding Small, by Ben Ames Williams (Saturday Evening Post, September 13).
31. On the Field of Honour, by Ben Ames Williams (American, March).
32. Turkey Red, by Frances Gilchrist Wood (Pictorial Review, November).
Although the exiguity of the vessel forbids inclusion of all these stories, yet the Committee wish to record them as worthy of preservation under covers. Publishing by title, therefore, carries all the honour attached to publishing the complete story.
Awarding the prizes proved difficult. No title stood first on all the lists: rated best by one judge, any story lost rank through lower rating by another. But the following held from first place to fifth place on the separate final lists: "La Guiablesse," "England to America," "For They Know not What They Do," "Evening Primroses," "Autumn Crocuses," "Humoresque," "The Red Mark," "They Grind Exceeding Small," "On Strike," "The Elephant Remembers," "Contact," and "Five Thousand Dollars Reward." It will be observed that three of Wilbur Daniel Steele's narratives appear. If the prize had been announced as going to the author of more stories rated first, he would have received it. But by the predetermined conditions, it must fall to the author of the best story, and according to a recognized system of counts,[A] the best is "England to America"; the second best, "For They Know not What They Do." The first award, therefore, goes to Miss Margaret Prescott Montague; the second to Mr. Wilbur Daniel Steele.
[Footnote A:
Since there were five judges, the system used was the following:
A story of place 1 was given 5 points " " " " 2 " " 4 " " " " " 3 " " 3 " " " " " 4 " " 2 " " " " " 5 " " 1 point.]
The Committee were remarkably unanimous in answering the question, "What is a short-story?"; but they differed, rather violently, over the fulfilment of requirements by the various illustrations. Without doubt, the most provocative of these was Mr. Steele's "Contact." Three of the Committee think it a short-story; two declare it an article; all agree that no finer instance of literature in brief form was published in 1919.
Their diverging views, however, challenged curiosity: what did the publishers think about it? The editor of Harper's wrote:
"Contact" was written by Mr. Steele after a personal visit to the North Sea fleet. It is a faithful portrayal of the work done by our destroyers and therefore falls under the category of "articles."
And the Author:
I am not quite sure what to say. The piece, "Contact," of which you speak, was in a sense drawn from life, that is to say it is made up of a number of impressions gained while I was at sea with the U.S. destroyers off the coast of France. The characters are elaborations of real characters, and the "contact" told of was such a one as I actually witnessed. Otherwise, the chronology of events, conversations, etc., were gathered from various sources and woven to the best of my ability so as to give a picture of the day's work of our convoying forces in the War.
These data reconcile, in part, the conflicting points of view, or at least show the tenability of each.
In addition to the first requisite of struggle, "the story's the thing," the judges sought originality, excellence in organization of plot incidents, skill in characterization, power in moving emotions—and, again, they differed over their findings. One member would have awarded the prize to "La Guiablesse" on its original motif—a ship is jealous of a woman—on its masterful employment of suggestion, unique presentation of events, and on all the other counts. Another, while recognizing the essential bigness of the tale, regards it as somewhat crudely constructed and as extending the use of suggestion into the mist of obscurity.
Or, take characterization. Mary Hastings Bradley's "The Fairest Sex" represents, in the climax, a reporter's fiancee betraying the whereabouts of a young woman who is, technically, a criminal. One of the Committee held that, under the circumstances, the psychology is false: others "believed" that particular girl did that particular thing.
Best narrative always compels belief: the longer the period of belief the greater the story. This business of convincing the reader requires more labour than the average writer seems to care about performing. Any reader is willing to be held—for a time. But how many stories compel recollection of plot and characters as indubitably a part of all that one has met?
Too frequently the writer neglects the value of atmosphere, forgetful of its weight in producing conviction. The tale predominantly of atmosphere (illustrated in the classic "Fall of the House of Usher"), revealing wherever found the ability of the author to hold a dominant mood in which as in a calcium light characters and arts are coloured, this tale occurs so rarely as to challenge admiration when it does occur. "For They Know not What They Do" lures the reader into its exotic air and holds him until he, too, is suffused, convinced.
… The Committee were not insensible to style. But expert phrasing, glowing appreciation of words and exquisite sense of values, the texture of the story fabric—all dropped into the abyss of the unimportant after the material they incorporated had been judged. No man brings home beefsteak in silk or sells figs as thistles.
The Committee accepted style as the fit medium for conveying the matter. …
Since the Committee confess to catholicity of taste, the chosen stories reveal predilection for no one type. They like detective stories, and particularly those of Melville Davisson
