THE CANDLE IN THE CABIN. By Vachel Lindsay. D. Appleton and Co., New York. $2.00.

ANYONE who has ever climbed with a pack on his back knows the drag on the shoulders, the seemingly endless upward effort necessary to progress. At such times, the tramper searches his memory for some poem to symbolize that steady, grinding advance, a perspiring conquest analogous in a small way to the sustained march of the pioneers across this country. No such uphill epic has, so far as I know, ever been written.

Vachel Lindsay's latest lyrics come close to that theme, play with it a bit, and then reject it with whole-hearted aversion. To his mind, which delights in parable, analogue, and symbol, the monotonous measure of progress is anathema. In the words of the mixed blood, whose thoughts and fancies are the subject of the poems, one reads the theme of the collection.

"And I back my one drop of blood

From this Indian girl.

Against all the blood of the Normans

Where the British flags unfurl."

From this foundation, which is the one substantial spot of the whole book, Mr. Lindsay builds up an aery fantasy of verse as free in line and thought as the natural beauty which inspired it. Even the Anglo-Saxon carying a heavy load of civilization up the mountain has enough of the savage in him to appreciate this lyric interpretation of the liberty of the open summit.

Interwoven with the poetic freedom which portrays the more inexpressible thoughts of the woods is a subtle humor. In two unexpected lines, Vachel Lindsay summarizes neatly a whole political campaign. The couplet bears repeating for the benefit of staunch members of the Republican club.

"Each insect flings off his repression!

The butterfly torchlight procession!"

Nor does the poet confine his line sketches to the medium of words: paradoxically enough, he uses the medium of letters. All through the book are little pen drawings built up of alphabetic script distorted to form pictures. Here too, humor pops up without warning, notably in the sketch of a whirlwind going up a flower. In short, he who reads "The Candle in the Cabin" will find psychological symbolism verging on the profound and subte wit verging on the hilarious.