The Readjustment is an interesting little volume for a number of different reasons. In the first place, it is a good example of the modern impressionistic portrait painting with a minimum of sure, swift strokes. The man and the woman about whom the story mainly revolves are presented to us at the start in an apricot orchard in southern California. It looks, for a while, as though Mr. Irwin had nothing especially new to say in this book; as though it was aiming toward the rather hackneyed culmination of a rivalry between two women in which the finer natured of the two was destined to be the victim. But just at the end Mr. Irwin introduces an entirely new twist to an old situation and the "readjustment" which takes place under the very shadow of death solves a difficult situation in a way that is eminently satisfactory to all concerned.
d beheld them both watching, silent and open-mouthed, she flushed violently.
Bertram Chester, swinging between the green rows, was whistling blithely:
Every Sunday afternoon during the picking season, Mrs. Tiffany served tea on the lawn for the half-dozen familiar households on the Santa Lucia tract. That was the busy time of all the year, affording no leisure for those dinners and whist parties which came in the early season, when the country families had just arrived from town, or in the late season, when prune picking grew slack. Night finds one weary in the country, even when his day has brought only supervision of labor. These town-bred folk, living from the soil and still but half welded to it, fell unconsciously into farmer habits in this working period.
The Goodyears and the Morses, more formal than