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192 the charming women of the book are almost snuffed out by two poisonous females, Lady Bollington and Lady Catherine Chiltern. Indeed these ladies are a little too much of a bad thing, and, not for the first time, I am left thinking how wonderfully Madame novels might be improved if she could persuade herself to bestow an occasional virtue upon her wicked characters. The heroine, Virginia, escaped from the hands of one of the pair only to fall under the thumb of the other. I must admit, however, that Lady Catherine had some reason to be angry at having Virginia suddenly dumped upon her as a derelict daughter-in-law. Why Brian Chiltern married in haste and then left his wife to endure such impossible conditions you must find out for yourself, but I fancy you will agree that his delicacy of feeling amounted to sheer stupidity. Nevertheless this story is bound to be popular, and I should have had no complaint to make if I did not feel that its author has it in her to do better work.

Even readers to whom American humour is generally a little indigestible may glean some smiles from Penrod, provided that it is taken in small doses and not in the lump. If this book were to be considered a study of the normal American boy I should cry with vigour, "Save me from the breed," but as a fanciful account of a thorough and egregious imp of mischief I can, within limits, offer my congratulations to Mr. Author:Booth Tarkington. The triumph of Penrod lies in the fact that, although he brought woe and tribulation to his relations and exasperated his friends to the point of insanity, it is nevertheless impossible to suppress an affection for him. Ofttimes and hard his father chastised him with rods, but Penrod merely accepted these beatings as the price that had to be paid for leading an adventurous life, and showed not the smallest signs of repentance. Yes, I like Penrod, though I have not any great desire to meet him in the flesh. It grieves me, however, that such a character as Mr. Kinosling should have been dragged in by the heels. If fatuous clerics are worth any novelist's attention they certainly are not worth Mr., and the only effect Mr. Kinosling had upon me was to fortify my conviction that it is far easier to begin a book of humour than to finish it.

 

swells the roar of traffic in the street,
 * The motor-buses rumble on and wind
 * Their plaintive warnings as they come behind

Faint folk who dally, dazed by summer heat; The reckless taxis seem a deal too fleet
 * To country cousins nervously inclined,
 * And raucous news-boys fret the curious mind

With spicy rumours of the foe's defeat.

But suddenly a hush falls everywhere:
 * Stopp'd is each taxi with its languid load,
 * And, as the City's silence deeper grows,

Only a barrel-organ churns the air
 * While Peggy (in the middle of the road)

Pauses to put some powder on her nose!



"'RETIREMENT OF MR. HENRY CHAPLIN.

The Times."