BABY, HERE ARE SOME PEOPLE COMING! GET
BACK TO YOUR DRESSING-ROOM AT ONCE."]

* * * * *

OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.

(_BY MR. PUNCH'S STAFF OF LEARNED CLERKS._)

It was a special duty of the late JOHN F. MACDONALD, who was cut off
in his prime after incautiously adding to his journalistic labours
in Paris the voluntary and too exacting duties of entertaining the
wounded, to emphasize the _Entente Cordiale_. Ever since KING EDWARD
laid the foundation of that understanding between England and France,
it was Mr. MACDONALD'S delight as well as his livelihood to study
every facet of it, both in Paris and in London, and with unfailing
humour and spirit, fortified by swift insight, to present each in
turn to his readers. The two best papers in the first volume of the
posthumous collection of his writings are those which describe in
vivid kindly strokes the triumphant impact of the late KING on the
Parisians some fourteen years ago, and the visit, not long after, of
five hundred London school-children to the French capital. Had Mr.
MACDONALD been spared to prepare this book himself, there is no doubt
that he would have subjected his essays to revision and brought them
into a more harmonious whole; but as they stand, gathered together
in this volume, _Two Towns--One City_ (GRANT RICHARDS), by the proud
hands of his mother, they have charm and vitality and the authenticity
of first-hand knowledge and lively sympathy. The War, as we have just
been reminded by an impressive memorial service, has made deep gaps in
the ranks of English journalists, and the loss of JOHN F. MACDONALD'S
quick eyes, happy choice of words, and intensely human apprehensions
was far from being the least.

* * * * *

Whether you enjoy _The House in Marylebone_ (DUCKWORTH) will depend
entirely upon your taste for the society of a number of hardworking
but sentimental "business girls." For this is the whole matter of
Mrs. W.K. CLIFFORD'S book. I call her girls sentimental, because (for
all that they are supposed to be chiefly concerned with living their
own lives) you will be struck at once with the extent to which they
contrive to mix themselves up with the lives of any male creatures
who venture over the horizon. "Our little republic," says one of its
inmates towards the end of the book, "is firmly feminine and hasn't
done much falling in love." Well, well--I suppose this is a question
that turn