, till its
final plunge, is at least lively and entertaining.

* * * * *

The amateur of lace, whether as expert or owner, will be pleasantly stirred
by learning that another book has been added to the already large
bibliography of a fascinating subject in _The Romance of the Lace Pillow_
(H.H. ARMSTRONG), published at Olney from the pen of Mr. THOMAS WRIGHT.
Olney, of course, has two claims on our regard--COWPER and Lace, and it is
now evident that Mr. WRIGHT has kept as attentive an eye on the one as on
the other. His book makes no pretence to be more than a brief and frankly
popular survey of the art of lace-making chiefly in Northamptonshire and
Bucks, and to it he has brought a wealth of various information (which the
average reader must take on trust) and an enthusiasm that can be judged by
his opening statement that "lace ... is the expression of the most
rapturous moments of whole dynasties of men of genius." So now you know.
Even those of us who regard it with a calmer pulse can take pleasure in the
many excellent photographs of lace-work of different periods and schools
that adorn Mr. WRIGHT'S volume. As for the letter-press, though I will not
call the writer's style wholly equal to his zeal, his chapters are full of
interesting gossip, ranging from the late KATHERINE OF ARAGON (the
originator, according to one theory, of English lace-making), to some jolly
stuff on the literature of Bobbins and the old Tells, or working-songs,
sung by "the spinners and the knitters in the sun, and the free maids that
weave their threads with bones." I have a fancy that the whole volume has
been more or less a labour of love (never certainly did I meet an author
with such a list of helpers to thank), so I am glad to think that its
reward in one sense is already assured.

* * * * *

In _The Fairy Man_ (DENT), a most engrossing phantasy, Mr. L. COPE CORNFORD
takes for raw material a family of Maida Vale, victims of all those petty,
sordid, but deadly troubles known only to the middle class. Without
warrant, explanation, or excuse he introduces into their routine a sudden
touch of magic; the tired City man, the acid foster-mother, the children
(mercifully devoid of any priggishness), and the pre-eminently human
housemaid and cook are transplanted for a moment into the age of the
knights-errant. Thither also are transplanted their special friends and
enemies, all ret