R.S.V.P.—Ther nys no more to saye!
OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
A Baronite warns me thusly: In opening The New Standard Elocutionist, selected by Alfred H. Miles (Hutchinson & Co.), you may think there is a mistake somewhere, as on the first page you are confronted with an anatomical sketch of a cheerful-looking gentleman with his chest laid open for inspection. Don't be afraid, it's all right, the gentleman's countenance is reassuring, still, it makes me wonder if all reciters come to that. But after reading a little of Lennox Brown's chapter, we find it is an object lesson teaching the usually inflated reciter how to work his diaphragm as it should be worked. Perhaps its advantages may be felt when the elocutionist wishes to rouse an admiring but slumbering audience with a little thundering out of "Rise! sleep no more." If the average recitation has a soporific effect, Phil May's drawings in Fun, Frolic and Fancy, by Byron Webber will soon wake you up. The annual of three F's quite fulfils the "promise of May."
Though Kitty Alone, by S. Baring Gould, runs through Good Words this year, edited by Donald Macleod, D.D., she does it surrounded by excellent company. Just imagine how a child's preconceived notions of euphonious spelling will be upset by teaching Artful Anticks spelt with a k, by Olive Herford (Gay and Bird). Such a frivolous liberty to take with any word in these days of solid moral educational principles.
There always exists a certain sneaking friendly feeling for ghosts, especially at Christmas time, but it's nothing to the Paddies who experience a hurtful resentment if you won't listen to their familiar banshee yarns, and Banshee Castle, by Rosa Mulholland is full of their sighing and wailing; they like to make themselves heard.
À propos of Christmas numbers, my Baronitess writes: The Queen and The Gentlewoman present themselves beautifully "got up." They are both decidedly smart, and, like their titles, their stories are by a very select company. By-the-bye, in The Gentlewoman the little bird says that her New Year will open with an exciting serial, Sons of Fire, from the indefatigable pen of Miss Braddon. There is a hearty, warm sound in it, agreeable at this time of the year.
According to the researching remarks of Joseph Jacobs, who has arranged a new and selected edition of Æsop's Fables (Macmillan & Co.), one gathers that the "modest violet" is not in it with the retiring manner in which every other writer of fable have hidden their worth under the sheltering leaves of the ever green laurels of Old Æsop. Their number might be termed fabulous. But Sherlock Holmes has not lived in vain. With unerring instinct the true mythical authors have been tracked, and their deeds brought to light. The immortal genius may at last enjoy his own wealth, which he finds fits better now that it has not to be stretched. Quaint little pictures, done by Richard Heighway, adorn the pages.
"A pretty volume of fairy tales," writes one of the Assistant Readers, "comes from Messrs. Seeley & Co. It is called Lily and the Lift, and is not only written, but also illustrated, by Mrs. Herbert Railton. Lily herself, the little heroine, who is wafted in the magic hotel-lift through the regions of Fairyland, is a darling. Beautiful butterflies, wonderful birds, quaint dwarfs, and lovely fairies abound in the marvellous country visited by Lily. Mrs. Railton writes with delightful fancy and quiet humour, and her illustrations add a great charm to a book which is bound to please the little ones for whom it is intended."
