Farmers declare, for instance, that Summer Time ought to have been introduced by Cobden, because it hinders work in the country in order to save money in towns. A week ago at Northampton a great meeting of farmers made war against the Summer Time Act, and a resolution was unanimously adopted "to adhere as far as possible to real time, as shown by the sun, in the arrangement of work on the farms, and to take as little notice as possible of the sham time that will be shown by public clocks."

An Act of Parliament ought to be obeyed, and farmers will find that their opposition to official clocks will disorder their homes with a muddled twitime hateful to wives Still, they have a right to know that rising an hour earlier will not be an economy to them, for it will tax them heavily when dew and mists drench the harvests. Again, a Northampton farmer says that his men, obeying a custom, begin work at halfpast four, Greenwich time, in order to get the milk from seventeen cows to Weedon Barracks by a quarter to seven. At present the milk is needed at seven o'clock, Summer Time (i.e., six o'clock, The Saturday Review.

Greenwich time), and the farmer has asked the barracks to send for it, as his men cannot begin work at an earlier hour. How many men in towns are busy in factories at 4.30 Greenwich time?

Even in towns it is the late risers that benefit most from the alarum Act. Hardworked women benefit not at all, for their husbands and children, deceived by brilliant daylight, sit up longer and ask for later meals. And brilliant daylight is not the only thing that cannot be altered by Act of Parliament. Hunger also has a routine, and food taken earlier or later than usual troubles the digestion, as brainworkers know. It will take some weeks for the people to get accustomed to their new meal hours.

There is no science in the conscription of watches and clocks; and can it save as much money as the curfew would save in winter? In any case, it has two recommendations. It inspired Lord Balfour's legal drama of the twi-time twins; and there is discipline as well as comedy in the Summer Time Act, which expects us all to remember that in war only the clocks have a right to strike.

Now doubly pledged to bring your vision true

Of darkness vanquished and the dawn set free

Punch.

In that full triumph which your faith foreknew But might not live to see.

Owen Seaman.

Dr. James C. Fernald's "English Grammar Simplified" (Funk & Wagnalls Company) is suited for use as a text book, but is adapted to a wider use as a supplement to the ordinary text books of grammar, and as a convenient volume of reference for busy men and women who are far from their school days, and sometimes find themselves perplexed as to the best use of words. It is compact, sensible and well-arranged; and a full Index makes it easy to refer to its suggestions.

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Lovers of the outdoor life hardly fail to enjoy the little volume "Canoeing in the Wilderness" (Houghton Mifflin Company) which contains the latter half of Henry D. Thoreau's "The Maine Woods," edited by Clifton Johnson, and decorated with eight illustrations in color by Will Hammell. It tells the story of Thoreau's wanderings through the Maine wilderness nearly sixty years ago, and is one of the most exquisite and characteristic of his writings.

Professor Orie Latham Hatcher's "A Book for Shakespeare Plays and Pageants" (E. P. Dutton & Company) is of special timeliness in this year of the Shakespeare tercentenary, but its value as a study of Shakespeare's plays and his times and of the Elizabethan stage in general will outlast any special year or occasion. The first part is devoted to Shakespeare and his England, with chapters upon the Queen's revels, the Queen's progresses, London in Shakespeare's time, Shakespeare's life

and plays, actors contemporary with Shakespeare, theatres, Elizabethan music, dancing and outdoor amusements, and Elizabethan dress. This is designed as a foundation for the second part, which furnishes a complete guide to the pageant, the plans being so adjusted that they can be made a part of one large pageant, or detached for separate representation. Settings, the laying out of grounds, costumes, etc., are described in detail, and the musical notation and words for Shakespearean and other Elizabethan songs and the music and directions for Elizabethan dances and various sorts of games are given. There are one hundred and sixty-six pictures and portraits, most of them from contemporary sources. The work is the fruit of wide and well-directed research and is of enduring value.

Agnes Repplier's "Counter-Currents" (Houghton Mifflin Company) may be accepted at once as conclusive proof that the art of essay writing has not become wholly extinct. If the literature of the last two years has produced a group of essays more clever, more pungent, more sane or more upto-date than the nine contained in this volume, it would be a kindness to the reading public if some one would point out the book which holds them. Repplier is at her best in this volumeand her best is a very high level indeed. Most of the essays, though not all, are related to the present war. They deal trenchantly with the foibles and follies of the sentimentalists, the pacifists and the ultra social reformers; they

Miss

hold up high standards of thinking and conduct; and they are sensible and fearless in their treatment of modern fads. Many readers will find in them refreshment and inspiration; some, perhaps, will find a challenge; but no one will find them dull. The subjects are The Cost of Modern Sentiment; Our Loss of Nerve; Christianity and War; Women and War; The Repeal of Reticence; Popular Education; The Modest Immigrant; Waiting; and Americanism.

The action of "Punishment," a play by Louise Burleigh and Edward Hale Bierstadt, takes place entirely within the walls of prison. Three of its acts portray the rigors of convict life and the tangle of political corruption, within and without, which tends to perpetuate its worst features; the fourth finds hope for the future in sympathetic co-operation between warden and prisoners. Thomas Mott Osborne, to whom the book is dedicated, says in a brief introduction, "I can vouch for the accuracy of the prison life depicted," and adds later that the play "is worthy of a place beside that bitter masterpiece" Galsworthy's "Justice." The first statement may be allowed to stand as a sufficient recommendation to anyone who is interested in prison reform; but, for the sake of those whose first interest is in literature, the second one ought to be challenged. There is a widespread belief among authors and publishers that a play, either because its structure demands such great sacrifices, or because on the stage the personal touch of the actors can gloss over any minor crudities, need not conform to the ordinary standards of plausibility of situation and naturalness of speech, which the modern novelist or short story writer accepts without question. Yet the relentless cry of the public is for illusion, and he who would create it on paper, in whatever literary form, must look more carefully to his material

than he who speaks only through the mouths of his actors. As a vehicle for the stage, "Punishment" seems wellbuilt, tense, and human; but on paperits wheels creak. Henry Holt and Company.

By far the most vivid and absorbing war book yet written, not even excepting Ian Hay's "The First Hundred Thousand," is Frances Wilson Huard's "My Home in the Field of Honor" (George H. Doran Company). It differs from Ian Hay's book in that it portrays, not the life in the trenches and the attacks and counter attacks, but the horrors of war as experienced by the unhappy populations in the path of the advancing armies. The author is an American woman, daughter of Francis Wilson, and wife of Charles Huard, a French painter of distinction. She was living at her chateau at Villiers, near the Marne, sixty miles from Paris, when the storm of war broke over Europe. She describes graphically and with intimate details the effect of the declaration of war upon the surprised people; the instant response of the men to the call to the colors; the grief and dread of the women left behind; the terror which spread over the country as the invading German army drew nearer, leaving devastation in its track; the wild flight of the peasants; her own reluctant departure from her chateau which she had turned into a place of refuge for the wounded and homeless; and her return, a fortnight later, after the retreat of the Germans, to find her chateau, which had been occupied by German officers, defiled and wrecked in every conceivable way, through sheer wantonness. The story is simply and rapidly told, with no attempt at literary effect, but no "best-seller" in the list of contemporary fiction compares with it for intensity of interest. La Baronne Huard transformed her chateau, rehabilitated and refitted, into a hospital

for French wounded, and has presided over it, since her return, and purposes, as she says in her closing sentence, "with God's help, to go on doing so until the day of our complete victory." Twelve illustrations, from exquisite drawings by her husband, enhance the value and beauty of the book.

Good times, and good men, women, and children, red and white, are the chief objects of contemplation in “Eleanor of the Houseboat," Mrs. Louise M. Breitenbach's latest book for girls, but the story is not insipid, even though it has no villain and the threads of interest are skilfully gathered in the last chapter with a promise of another lively tale to follow, some day. Eleanor Tracy and her family circle spend a whole summer in a houseboat counting among its contents and appendages, a parrot, a canoe, a tree-house, a pony, a dog, an Indian chief and an Indian girl acquainted with the language of every bird that flies. Is it necessary to say that Mistress Eleanor enjoys herself? She is not spoiled by her good fortune, but makes resolute effort to improve herself and to brings happiness into other lives. Perhaps she is a little more successful than any girl need expect to be in a world not created by Mrs. Breitenbach, but fairytales are never out of fashion, and "Eleanor of the Houseboat" sets a good example before the young girls who make its heroine's acquaintance. Mr. Charles E. Meister gives the book some excellent pictures of forest and lake and it has a brilliant cover. Page Company.

The

The value of a limpid style was never more clearly demonstrated than in “Thinking as a Science" by Henry Hazlitt. The book covers a difficult field and is something more ambitious than a Book of Logic, attempting to give concisely, profoundly, and lucidly, the processes of the inner brain, the

brain that exists in spirit. The opening chapter states the necessity of such a volume because of "the neglect of thinking" and proposes a definition: "The science of thinking, if such a science there be, is normative. Its purpose is to find those methods which will help us to think constructively and correctly." The next chapter dives deep into "thinking with a method" but with such simplicity of vocabulary as to render the queries of the ages graspable by even the untrained intellect. Having cleared his ground Mr. Hazlitt goes on with chapters on concentration, debate and conversation, thinking and reading, writing one's thoughts, thinking as an art, books on thinking, all written in a style distinguished as well as comprehensible. Altogether a valuable book for both student and layman, helpful, provocative of-thinking. E. P. Dutton & Co.

"Black Sheep" by Jean Kenyon Mackenzie (Houghton Mifflin Company) is a vivid and piquant, record of an American girl's experiences and adventures as a mission worker in West Africa. The record begins in 1904 and ends in 1913-a year before the world-wide war included Kamerun and other parts of Africa in its desolating sweep, and gave the natives, among whom Miss Mackenzie and her associates had labored, new glimpses of what is possible to Christian nations. The ten years covered by this record were years of eager inquiry and rapid development among the tribes which were reached by the missionaries. Miss Mackenzie's narrative gains rather than loses by its informality. It is told in extracts from journals and letters, written while the incidents described were fresh in the mind, and with little if any thought of being read outside the immediate circle of family and friends. The story is intimate and graphic and of thrilling interest. There are fifteen illustrations from photographs.