invoking
the characters in the Mohawk Valley during the war for American
Independence. The first novel of the series was "Cardigan"; the
second, "The Maid-at-Arms"; the third is still to be written,
when the distinguished author can find time; while "The
Reckoning" is the last.

IOLE

Another splendid example of the author's versatility is this
farcical, humorous satire on the _art nouveau_ of to-day.
Mr. Chambers, with all his knowledge of the artistic jargon, has
in this little novel created a pious fraud of a father, who
brings up his eight lovely daughters in the Adirondacks, where
they wear pink pajamas and eat nuts and fruit, and listen to him
while he lectures them and everybody else on art. It is easy to
imagine what happens when several rich and practical young New
Yorkers stumble upon this group. Everybody is happy in the end.

THE TRACER OF LOST PERSONS

Here again is a totally different vein of half humor and half
seriousness. Mr. Chambers selects a firm of detectives (based,
by the way, on fact) who guarantee to find lost persons, missing
heirs, etc. In this case the author's fancy and humor suggest to
a young bachelor, who has always had an ideal girl in mind, that
he go and describe her as a real person to _Mr. Keen_, the
Tracer of Lost Persons. He gives his description, and, as may be
supposed, _Mr. Keen_ finds the girl, but after such a
series of episodes, escapes, discoveries and denouements that it
takes a full-grown novel to accomplish the task.

THE TREE OF HEAVEN

Half in fancy, half in fact, the thread of an occult idea runs
through this weird theme. You cannot, even at the end, be quite
sure whether the author has been making fun of you or not.
Perhaps, if the truth were told, he could not quite tell you
himself. The tale all hangs about one of a group of friends who
lives for years in the Far East and gathers some of the occult
knowledge of that far-off land. Into the woof of an Eastern rug
is woven the soul of a woman. Into the glisten of a scarab is
polished the prophecy of a life. Into the whole charming romance
of the book is woven the thread of an intangible, "creepy,"
mysterious force. What is it? Is it a joke? Who knows?

SOME LADIES IN HASTE

This novel is as widely different from all the others as if
another hand had written it