OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
"Fridoline."
The Baron heartily welcomes the appearance of Happy Thoughts in French, under the very attractive style and title of Fridoline. No fear now of the entente cordiale between England and France being disturbed; and that is indeed une "pensée" la plus "heureuse" ou "ingénieuse." The dialogue with the patient angler who remains in the middle of the stream day after day, and, probably, night after night, is quite a little lesson in French.
"'Pris quelque chose?' 'Rien.' 'Pas mordu du tout?' 'Une fois, je crois.' Le pêcheur n'a pas perdu son calme, mais son air n'a rien de triomphant."
And the world goes on and the mouvement continues, and ever and anon the Happy Thoughter, returning to the river, finds the same man in the same boat in almost the same position. Then, before retiring for the night, the H. T. takes one turn on the lawn, "pour m'assurer," he says, "que je ne laisse rien derrière moi. Ah si! je laisse l'homme au bachot, toujours sa ligne en main. Il avait, paraît-il, un pen redescendu le courant. 'Bonne pêche?' 'Non.' 'Pris quelque chose?' 'Rien.'" Those who read "entre les lignes" may see in this figure of unrewarded patience and perseverance more than meets the eye. M. Aurelien de Courson has done his work excellently well, "avec l'autorisation de l'auteur."
I found a book on my table lying among a number of others put aside to be read at "a more convenient season." The title attracted me—Clove Pink. Its leaves are of last autumn, but the story they tell is for ever. It is admirably written; its word-painting is the work of a true artist: but beginning brightly and gladly, as do the lives of the young hero and heroine, it ends sadly but sweetly. If you are not averse to a simple, well-told tale, with stirring incidents of modern warfare, graphically narrated, that stand out in startling contrast to the scenes of quiet English rural life, a story whose pathos and simple truth will touch you deeply, read Clove Pink, says
The Baron de Book-Worms.