The author discusses the question of Ireland, and sees little prospect of a solution. The more one nationality asserts itself the stronger is the opposition of the other. That was a wise Irishman (although perhaps riot a highly religious one) who summarized the hereditary difficulties thus: The north of us is Protestant and the south of us is Roman Catholic and neither of us can get on with the other. And I wish to goodness that we was all agnostics, and then we could live together like Chris-
"A Saurte Boox or Huwovr."—By Strickland Gillian. (Forbes Ca., Chicago, $1.25.
We shall not offer any specimens from this sample case, but leave the reader to sort the consignment over; and we shall be much mistaken if the task does not prove a congenial one and lead to substantial orders for more of "'the goods." The volume contains an excellent collection of little stories, grouped according to character and expounded with a running comment tary sometimes more amusing than the stories themselves, though some of them are gems. The whole thing is cleverly done. The author has set out to increase his reader's appreciation of humour by increasing his power of observation. His am bition is to make every man his own humorist. It is a hold ambition. Once upon a time we endeavoured to explain a "joke," with disastrous results. Now comes Mr. Gillian to say that there is a great deal of derelict fun in the world if one has eyes to see it, the other specifics being '"'a heart) of kindly appreciation and a mind sufficiently devoid of rheumatism to enable it now and then to jump out of the rut and ki up its supple heels." The initiated will reap the reward of plenty of good fun "from the eyebrows up," as the author says.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.