arently quite in order for her to
marry, without loving, a cocoa king who drinks--anything but cocoa;
which done, to add to the bitterness of the cup, _Ben's_ wife is
reported dead. Whereafter the king in a drunken fit poisons himself,
and the widow, fearing to be suspect, flies with her big _Ben_ to his
secret _Nobody's Island_ (HURST AND BLACKETT), off the New Guinea
coast, where they live comfortably off ambergris. Eventually tracked
down by the dead king's brother, who allows himself to be persuaded of
_Edith's_ innocence on what seems to me the most inadequate evidence,
the lovers, after protracted mental agonies and physical dangers,
are about to enjoy deserved peace when _Ben's_ wife turns up again,
necessitating further separation; till finally _Edith_, with a
handsome babe and the news that after all _Ben's_ first wife wasn't
a wife at all, finds her way back to Nobody's Island. Now that does
seem to be rather overdoing it. But I hasten to credit the writer with
a very happy gift of description, which brings the Papuan forests
and mountains (or something plausibly like them) vividly before the
reader, while the characters, including a boy villain ingenuously
bizarre, are amusing puppets capably manipulated.

* * * * *

Mrs. BARNES-GRUNDY possesses a wonderful supply of sprightly humour.
_Her Mad Month_ (HUTCHINSON) is funny without being flippant, and
although the heroine is very naughty she is never naughty enough to
shock her creator's unhyphened namesake. Perhaps _Charmian's_ exploits
in escaping from a severe grandmother, and going unchaperoned to
Harrogate (where a very pretty piece of philandering ensued), do
not amount to much when seriously considered, but it is one of Mrs.
BARNES-GRUNDY'S strong points that you cannot take her seriously. I am
on her side all the time when she is giving me light comedy, but when
she leaves that vein and bathes her heroine in tears I cannot conjure
up any real sympathy. I never for a moment doubted that _Charmian's_
lover, though reported as having "died from wounds," would turn up
again. I am afraid the War is responsible for a great deal of rather
obvious fiction.

* * * * *

Miss MARIE HARRISON has investigated the condition of Ireland, and in
_Dawn in Ireland_ (MELROSE) she presents the results of her studies.
The book is inspired by a great deal of the right kind of enthusiasm,
and the advice given i