1926. American author, novelist, poet, Widdemer shared the 1919 Pulitzer Prize for poetry (the second ever awarded) with Carl Sandburg. The book begins: One low light burned in the chintz and wicker living-room. By it could be seen, dimly and pleasantly, Nonny's Kewpie doll sitting with her feet stuck straight out in one corner. Throned on the mantelpiece was another doll, a long-legged, long-armed Pierrot that belonged to Sibyl, Nonny's mother, a sick simper on its white face and its legs tied in a bow-knot by some flippant hand. They evidently belonged where they were, for everything else in the room was severely neat in its bright colored, impudent way. It was a gay and arresting living-room, and its only subdued note was the comedy, plump middle-aged woman asleep on the chaise lounge in her brown crepe de chine.