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and much more worth while. There are a dozen or more illustrations from photographs.

“A Maid of Old Manhattan,” is a story of the Dutch colonists written by Arthur Knipe and illustrated by Emilie Knipe. The maid Annetje is a child who was discovered by the Indians in the arms of a dead negro slave and brought up by the Sachem and his squaw as the princess of the tribe until a Dutch trader came into possession of her. Annetje loves her Dutch foster-mother but is still loyal to the Indians and in a time of peril to the city of Nieuw Amsterdam is a successful peace messenger between old Peter Stuyvesant and the Sachem of the Indian tribe. The story is rich in local color and has an atmosphere of adventure and romance which should make it a highly satisfactory juvenile. Besides this the characterization is excellent and Annetje is a heroine with a distinct personality. The illustrations, moreover, have the rare quality of actually illuminating the text. The Macmillan Co.

The Century Co. publishes an illustrated holiday edition of Irwin Russell's “Christmas Night in the Quarters and Other Poems” with an Introduction by Joel Chandler Harris, a biographical sketch by Maurice Garland Fulton, and twenty-nine penand-ink drawings by E. W. Kemble. Russell was one of the first poets to catch the negro dialect, and to reproduce the humor and sentiment which delight the negro mind. It is the real negro who tells his simple tales and rollicks through this verse, and it is the real life of the plantations that is represented in them. The operetta, which gives its title to the book, has the true negro flavor, and the prayer of “Brudder Brown,” imploring a blessing upon the dance which was

about to begin, is perfect in its way. There are forty poems in all, most of them negro verse, though there are some in the Irish dialect. The pen-andink drawings are very clever, and excellent interpretations of the text. It is more than thirty years since Russell died, at what seemed the beginning of his literary career; but he will be long remembered for his dialect verse.

It would be quite superfluous to bespeak a welcome for Mildred Aldrich's “On the Edge of the War Zone” (Small, Maynard & Co.) for everyone who read her earlier book “A Hilltop on the Marne” will be eager to read the present volume, which takes up the narrative where the first book left it, after the Battle of the Marne, and carries it along to the joyous day last April, when the news that the United States had declared war upon Germany set the Stars and Stripes flying all over France. This book, like the earlier one, tells its story in letters, written to a friend in the United States, and, like that, it is vivid and poignant, with lighter touches here and there, and bits of personal experience and observation which make it very much alive. It was Miss Aldrich's fortune to live through these war years, as the title of her book indicates, on the edge of the war zone—often with the booming of the great guns in her ears —and she had unusual opportunities for studying the French character and watching the manifestations of the French spirit, through these years of stress and peril. It is well to have the records of operations on the different fronts supplemented by this intimate record of what has been going on in the hearts of the French people. Twelve full-page illustrations and a map add to the interest of the book.

Whoever follows Julian Street's “American Adventures” (The Century Co.) from his departure from New York, where two beguiling friends seeing him off, cause him almost to miss his train, to his return, after leisurely studies and journeyings through Southern towns and cities, will find him one of the most delightful of travelers, keen yet sympathetic in observation, bubbling over with humor, and incapable of dulness. Through Baltimore, Washington, Richmond and Norfolk; through the “Heart of the South,” Raleigh, Atlanta, Birmingham, Vicksburg and Memphis; to the “Farthest South”—Savannah, Palm Beach, Montgomery and New Orleans, Julian Street and his companion, Wallace Morgan, made their cheerful and observing way. Everywhere they had a good time; everywhere they saw things worth seeing and met people worth meeting; and everywhere they made notes and drawings which it is a delight to browse through. For the narrator was especially fortunate in his companion, the artist, who illustrates the text with eighty delicate and exquisite drawings. Altogether, the spell of the sprightly narrative and description, and of the diverting drawings will hold the reader, and anyone who takes up the book, thinking that he will merely glance through it, will find himself reading chapter after chapter, until he helps the author turn the latchkey again in his New York apartment.

“The Green Tree Mystery,” by Roman Doubleday, describes the efforts of a charming heiress to discover the real murderer of her father, who is found dead in the library of his country house, and whose death the village coroner ascribes to the hand of a stranger who commits suicide the same night under a tree not far away. Dissatisfied with this verdict, since the stranger proves to be the father of a dear friend, Patty Kersey engages

a private detective. An admirer of hers whom her father has just rebuffed, and a Socialist who has a long-standing grudge against him, are among those on whom suspicion falls; an expert in hand-writing is called on, and the plot is so ingeniously developed that even the seasoned reader is surprised at the outcome. The writer has devoted his most detailed characterdrawing to the Socialist, whom he plainly detests with extreme cordiality, and who plays a very shabby part. D. Appleton & Co.

A sustained reading of “Under Fire” by Henri Barbusse is not possible as the book is so saturated with the actually experienced horrors of the war that, with each dip into it, one feels that one has stepped into bottomless slime where one must surely perish. These war experiences of a poilu include everyday life in the trenches, the taking of enemy trenches under fire, life in a French village when on leave, the entraining of troops, the official shops, hospitals, and red cross workers from the poilu's standpoint, in fact, every conceivable side of war life is touched upon. The recountal is almost too convincingly real and is unrelieved by any story woven into the narrative which, however, is filled with incidents that are the acme of life's drama. “Under Fire” is heaped-up, concentrated awfulness and all readers will be inclined to agree with the conclusion of the narrator that in the years to come, it is a question whether the deeds done in this war will be looked upon as those of the heroes of Corneille and Plutarch or of hooligans and Apaches. E. P. Dutton & Co.

Katharine Holland Brown looks for the best in human nature with the insight and perseverance which too many writers use in searching out its meannesses. Lovers of genuine sentiment, free from the morbid or effusive, have learned to depend on her, and they will welcome with real personal gratitude the volume of her short stories called “The Wages of Honor” which Charles Scribner's Sons publish. The title story analyzes the personality and power of a hard-working, selfeffacing college president; “The Master Strategist” describes the ingenious intervention of an admiral's aunt in behalf of the happiness of his granddaughter; and in “Brewster Blood” a sturdy seven-year-old youngster becomes a delightful illustration of heredity. The central figure of the first story in the group called “Of the Mississippi Country” is a drainage engineer in hard luck; of another, a Swedish maid of all work; and of the third a woman who brings her husband's dredging contract to a successful conclusion in his absence. The book closes with a trio of stories of the Mexico of Villa and Carranza, full of life and action, and written with a sympathetic appreciation of the loyalty and devotion to be found in the Mexican of the humbler type.

Ex-Ambassador James W. Gerard's “My Four Years in Germany” (George H. Doran Co.) is by all odds the most important volume in the lengthening list of war books, and the book which of all that have been written is most sure of holding an enduring place in the history of the war. No other man had the same opportunity as Mr Gerard for watching intimately and closely all that went on in Berlin in the years immediately before the war and through the war up to the breaking of diplomatic relations with Germany and the Ambassador's departure from Berlin last February. He saw Berlin, and the Kaiser's court and advisers, and the military leaders, and the German people themselves, at close

range, and the disclosures which he makes of the plots and trickeries of which he was not only a witness, but in some instances the intended victim, are astounding—the climax being reached in the attempt which was made to induce him, after relations had been severed, and while he was waiting for his passports, to sign an important treaty in the interest of Germany, and this under the threat, that, if he did not sign it, he would make it very difficult for Americans to leave the country. Among the thirty or more illustrations in the book none is more significant than the facsimile of the personal telegram sent by the Kaiser to President Wilson, the existence of which was for so long denied, and the picture of the medal exulting over the sinking of the Lusitania. This medal bore the date May 5, 1915, although the Lusitania was not sunk until the 7th—a fact which shows how deliberately that cruel tragedy was planned. Mr. Gerard's book is one which every intelligent American should read from beginning to end. Especially should he give heed to Mr. Gerard's solemn warning that the military and naval power of the German empire is unbroken; that Germany has now, after all her losses, about nine million effectives under arms; and that there is no prospect that Germany will break under starvation or make peace because of revolution. Mr. Gerard believes that we are not only justly in this war, but prudently; and that, “If we had stayed out and the war had been drawn or won by Germany we should have been attacked—and that while Europe stood grinning by— not directly at first, but through an attack on some Central or South American State to which it would be at least as difficult for us to send troops as for Germany.”

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