The Diary of Opal Whiteley Sir James Barrie's discovery of Daisy Asmorad and her "2vuay Visiters" was the prelude to a fashion in precocity which threatened us with a host of young persons of genius, poets and artists; whose distinguished careers, howe failed to survive the high lights an article or two in the London press. The public was sceptical and the precocious foring persons quickly vanished from the scene. Daisy Ashford was left without a serious rival, until the appearance of Opal Whiteley and her Diary, (published by Macmillan & Ca.) an equally attractive work but ¢t quite different character. Opal Whiteley was a child of the Oregon forests where, between the ages of seven and twelve, she set down in quaint kinder-garten style, her impressions of "a very wonder: ful world," and artlessly achieved a work of great charm.
In an introduction to the volume, the matter of which is taken from two childish—copy-books, Sir Edward Grey tells the reader that something more than mere entertainment will be found in the simplicity and naivete of the child's observations. There are pages that owe their charm to this but there is much more. in_ the diary. "The special quality of the book," he writes, "is its vivid i terest in and feeling for the beauty of the world and the life. In everything, from the "joy light" in human eyes to the touch of "the velvety fingers of the shadows," the child sees beauty and finds happiness thereby."
Haarrines anp Know!nes.
This is the way in which the young poet-naturalist looked at the world; "As I did go I did have hearings of many voices, they were the voices of earth glad for the spring. They did say what they had to say in the growing grass and in the leaves growing out from the tips of the branches. The birds did have knowing and say what the grasses and leaves did say of the gladness of spring. I too did feel glad feels from my toes to my curls. - So many thoughts do abide near with us. They come from heaven and live among the flowers and ferns and often I did find them in the trees. I do love to go on searches for the thoughts that do dwell near about."*
That the young artist was gifted with rare and charming imagination, let the following passage show:
"I have thinks those potatoes growing here do have knowings of the star songs. T have kept watch in the fields at night and I have been the stars look kindness down upon them. And I have walked between the rows of potatoes and leaves. 2 have watched the star-gleams on their
Fun anp Fancy.
The diarist records here impressions of nature and human nature with extraordinary skill, with not a few excellent strokes of humour in character study, the whole record being vivid with life and colour. Those who may look upon such observations as we have quoted as being mere childish prattle must be left to their own unfortunate conclusion. Others who can detach themselves from the grasp of practical things and return adventurously to the child's point of view, will revel in a delightful world of fancy. Nothing to be gained from it, of course, in the way of enlightenment on the Irish problem or the future of the league of nations; but delicious fun with such lowly individuals as the donkey who "did have wise knowings,"—after all, perhaps an individual not so very far removed in relationship from some who sit in the seats of the mighty.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.