le are the _chevelures_ of
Mr. LLOYD GEORGE, Lord HAIG, Marshal FOCH, Sir JAMES BARRIE and Mr.
ROOSEVELT, to name no more. Naturally _Adventures in Interviewing_
(LANE) is full of side-lights on the recent war. How could it be
otherwise when so many celebrated brains are laid bare? One quotation
I cannot refrain from giving. Speaking of Lord BEAVERBROOK he
says, "He had come to London a decade ago, to live 'the life of a
gentleman,' but was drawn irresistibly into politics." I challenge our
literature to produce a more beautiful "but."

* * * * *

Miss EDITH DART has grouped against her Dartmoor setting in _Sareel_
(PHILIP ALLAN) just the characters to act out the well-worn story of
the mutual infatuation of a young man of birth and an ignorant country
maid. But though _Sareel_, the little workhouse-reared servant at the
farm, falls in love in the accepted fashion with the best-looking of
the three young men who lodge there on a reading tour, and though he
duly falls in love with her, the innocence of her soul keeps their
passion on the highest plane. What is more, when _Alan_, as such young
gentlemen in fiction generally do, changes his mind Miss DART provides
a happy ending, without even a suicide to spoil it, and without
inconsistency either in her own point of view or in that of her
characters. I don't really believe that Devonshire people say that
they like things "brave and well" quite as often as Miss DART makes
hers, and I wish she had not so great a fondness for the word "such"
that she must invent phrases as weird as "though he had not sought
such" in order to bring it in; but apart from these trifles _Sareel_,
as something like a feminine version of a book by Mr. EDEN PHILLPOTTS
arranged for family reading, will certainly please a great many
people.

* * * * *

If you would like to see a white lady ride on a white horse to Banbury
Cross and elsewhere with a body-guard of men in tin hats, carrying
_The Banner_ (COLLINS) and proclaiming the League of Youth (against
war and other evils) and forcible retirement from all offices of
profit or power under the Crown at the age of forty, get Mr. HUGH F.
SPENDER'S new and, as it seems to me, rather ingenuous novel. Love is
not neglected, for a peer's son, deaf and dumb through shell-shock,
so responds to the counter-irritant of seeing this modern JOAN riding
through Piccadilly that he recovers both spee