If, on reading some of the accounts of the present hostilities, the head reels in the manner frequently mentioned in the advertisement it can be quite legitimately attributed to the stupendous claims made by the belligerents. From a big military drive into the interior of China annexing a large section of the country after bitter resistance by the Chinese armies, the hostilities seem to have deteriorated into a succession of military claims which deceive neither the participants nor the observers. The recent incident on the Manchoukuo-Mongol border is well within this category for it seems almost incredible that in one day the Japanese could bring down 42 Soviet planes with the loss of a single Japanese plane and nobody else knows anything about it. These border affairs have been frequent of late and have been magnified so much that even Japanese public opinion is beginning to show a disinclination to, believe them in their entirety. On the Chinese side, some of the claims have been astonishing, to say the least. Large-scale offensives have been waged by correspondents although Chungking has denied that anything of the kind ever happened. Although the Japanese are finding the guerilla problem of increasing difficulty as China continues to employ this very effective means of disturbance, the ebb and flow of battle has been so rapid and so spacious with encirclements, pincer-like movements, annihilations and decimations that the intensity of the struggle between these two great countries is beginning to lack the appreciation it received in the early stages. Certain cities pop up in the news and are captured and recaptured in this flush of careless enthusiasm. One London newspaper published an exclusive report of the Chinese recapture of Nanchang with an, abundance of detail, and the following day revealed a masterpiece of ingenuity by the correspondent to explain why the city was still in Japanese possession. It appeared that the Chinese had planned to capture the city, but the Japanese prevented the plan from materializing by the expedient of rushing up troops—which is what anybody would expect them to do. It is all very bewildering and adds burlesque to a bitter struggle which is costing thousands of lives A Diary Compiled A year ago today Mr. Arthur de Carle Sowerby, commenced to deputize with his Nature Notes, for Mr. E. S. Wilkinson, contributer of the inimitable Country Diary, while the latter went on leave. In all Mr. Sowerby contributed some 57 articles which he has now brought together in book form dedicating it to all lovers of nature, Mr. Sowerby has been prevented from taking the country rambles which are Mr. Wilkinson's inspiration, but fortunately he has a garden in which he has been able to prosecute his studies to good effect, and in the course of his Nature Notes he gives his readers a wonderful insight into the habits and tendencies of plants and insects. Of the author's qualifications as a naturalist there cannot be the slightest possible doubt; nor can there be of his ability to put his subjects interestingly before his readers. Today that volume is being published for the first time, and, covering a period of six months as it does, provides a wealth of reference material for those who seek information about the continual changes which are occurring throughout a most interesting portion of the year. It is well produced and improved by the addition of a number of interesting and well-chosen illustrations, and should certainly commend itself to the large number of people who like the countryside and know how to use their eyes while in it. The last entry in this diary has an important philosophical passage which is well worth reproduction For me I am content to observe what takes place in the world of animals and plants, to study man in his manifold actions, and occasionally to let my mind wander in the infinitude of space with its uncountable numbers of stars and star clusters or galaxies, its nebulae, its suns, its planets and their moons, its comets and meteors, and to delve into the mysteries of chemical reactions, the construction of the atom, the composition of the earth's crust—and io marvel at it all, without asking Why? L know this would not satisfy most people, nor can it, perhaps, bring them comfort in a world so full of sidering, but somehow it makes me feel how utterly unimportant are my sufferings Compared with the grand drama of the Universe in which I play but an infinitesimal part.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.