Who can't enjoy this Catalogue!"
Of the little mutual admiration and log-rolling society, whose headquarters are in Vigo Street, no serious account need be taken. Time will deal with these very minor poets, and whether kindly or not, Time will prove. They may possibly be able to await the verdict with a serene and confident patience—and so can we. An exception may perhaps be made for some of Mr. Arthur Symon's "Silhouettes," as the following extract will show:—
"Emmy's exquisite youth and her virginal air,
Eyes and teeth in the flash of a musical smile,
Come to me out of the past, and I see her there
As I saw her once for a while.
Emmy's laughter rings in my ears, as bright,
Fresh and sweet as the voice of a mountain brook,
And still I hear her telling us tales that night,
Out of Boccaccio's book.