cent. is charged on each
thing sold.

* * * * *

Miss May Morris, whose exquisite needle-work is well known, has just
completed a pair of curtains for a house in Boston. They are amongst the
most perfect specimens of modern embroidery that I have seen, and are
from Miss Morris's own design. I am glad to hear that Miss Morris has
determined to give lessons in embroidery. She has a thorough knowledge
of the art, her sense of beauty is as rare as it is refined, and her
power of design is quite remarkable.

Mrs. Jopling's life-classes for ladies have been such a success that a
similar class has been started in Chelsea by Mr. Clegg Wilkinson at the
Carlyle Studios, King's Road. Mr. Wilkinson (who is a very brilliant
young painter) is strongly of opinion that life should be studied from
life itself, and not from that abstract presentation of life which we
find in Greek marbles--a position which I have always held very strongly
myself.

(1) Memoirs of an Arabian Princess. By the Princess Emily Ruete of Oman
and Zanzibar. (Ward and Downey.)

(2) Makers of Venice. By Mrs. Oliphant. (Macmillan and Co.)

(3) The Plan of Campaign. By Mabel Robinson. (Vizetelly and Co.)

(4) A Year in Eden. By Harriet Waters Preston. (Fisher Unwin.)

(5) The Englishwoman's Year-Book, 1888. (Hatchards.)

(6) Rachel and Other Poems. (Cornish Brothers.)

THE POETS' CORNER--VI

(Pall Mall Gazette, April 6, 1888.)

David Westren, by Mr. Alfred Hayes, is a long narrative poem in
Tennysonian blank verse, a sort of serious novel set to music. It is
somewhat lacking in actuality, and the picturesque style in which it is
written rather contributes to this effect, lending the story beauty but
robbing it of truth. Still, it is not without power, and cultured verse
is certainly a pleasanter medium for story-telling than coarse and common
prose. The hero of the poem is a young clergyman of the muscular
Christian school:

A lover of good cheer; a bubbling source
Of jest and tale; a monarch of the gun;
A dreader tyrant of the darting trout
Than that bright bird whose azure lightning threads
The brooklet's bowery windings; the red fox
Did well to seek the boulder-strewn hill-side,
When Westren cheered her dappled foes; the otter
Had cause to rue the dawn when Westren's form
Loomed through the streaming bracken, to waylay
Her late return from plunder, the rough pack
Barking a jealous welcom