bubbling humor, that active mind, that radiant, cheerful personality. He was only thirty-nine years old, just getting into his full stride, at the threshold of what promised to be the most brilliant and valuable part of his career. One of his last acts, before he left on the mission that cost him his life, was to send to Weird Tales The Tsantsa of Professor Von Rothapfel, an eery story of a South American Indian tribe that preserves and shrinks the heads of its dead enemies. This story will be published soon.
Writes Lola Montague, of Roslindale, Massachusetts: "Keep the magazine weird, please. Let the weak, spineless creatures who don't like thrills buy other publications that will suit their taste. You are 'the unique magazine.' Remain so. You are the only one of your kind, the last hope of lovers of the awful, the spooky, the occult. Greye La Spina chills me to the marrow of my bones; merciful heaven, how is The Gargoyle to end? Nictzin Dyalhis writes with bold, clear strokes of regions into which man dare not even send his thought; When the Green Star Waned was a triumph, The Eternal Conflict was a masterpiece. Let us have more stories about His Satanic Majesty."
A reader from Passaic, New Jersey, who signs himself S. M. J., asks for "more tales dealing with occultism, astrology, monsters, weird sea talea (as The Masters From Beyond and The Temple), strange lands, and more semi-scientific tales of startling wonder, also old-fashioned ghost tales that make the readers shudder."
Lieutenant W. J. Stamper, of the Marine Corps, whose powerful Haitain tales have been an admired feature of Weird Tales, spent two weeks patrolling the streets of Santa Barbara after the earthquake. "I was conversing with a civilian about 3 a. m. concerning the temblor," he writes, "and he said: 'That morning when the buildings began to tremble and crash to the ground, I thought some of those Chinese birds had been successful in inventing a device whereby they could destroy the world. I read just such a story sometime ago in a magazine called Weird Tales.' I think he must have referred to The Moon Terror, by A. G. Birch."
Writes Frank W. Jones, of Oak Mill, West Virginia: "I think most of the readers will agree with me when I say we want gruesome, hair-raising, gooseflesh stories, and some old-fashioned ghost stories—the kind the southern negro tells around a watermelon feast at night."
And Miss Vilma La Veene, of St. Joseph, Missouri, writes: "Please give us some more horror tales, the kind that make your spine tingle. I am sure my fellow readers will agree with me in wanting more tales like Just Bones in your 1924 Anniversary Issue."
Writes H. E. Phillips, of South Williamsport, Pennsylvania: "Stories by Seabury Quinn, Greye La Spina, H. P. Lovecraft and Robert S. Carr are always good stories. Their signatures alone guarantee their stories."
There is only one way we can know what kind of stories you like, and that is to have you write and tell us which stories make the biggest hit with you, so that we can give you more of the same kind.
If some of the stories dissatisfy you, we want to know which ones, for Weird Tales belongs to its readers—it is your magazine, and we want to keep it responsive to your wishes. What is your favorite story in the present issue? Send in your vote to The Eyrie, Weird Tales, 408 Holliday Building, Indianapolis, Indiana.
