on its wrapper. One
small defect I find in the dissipation of its interest. Beginning with
one hero, it goes on with another; and the result is some confusion for
the reader who has backed the wrong horse. But Mr. E. M. SMITH-DAMPIER
might very justly retort that this is but fidelity to life. When in the
early chapters we see the first hero turned from home by an
unsympathetic parent, and faring forth to seek romance in a new world,
it was surely reasonable to suppose that he would eventually be rewarded
by the pretty lady of the wrapper, especially as _Savile Brand_ (though
his name inevitably suggests tobacco) is a character drawn with
understanding and skill. But Mr. SMITH-DAMPIER is good at lovers. He has
another, even better, up his sleeve. This is _Peter_, the forty-year-old
American cousin, who cherishes a tender regard for _Mistress Cordelia_.
I should explain that all this happened in the time of powder, lace
coats, and witches. This last is important. Those were the days when
_Cherchez la sorciere_ was the unfailing remedy in New England for every
ill, material or emotional. It is from this, coupled with the mistaken
jealousy of her sister, that _Cordelia's_ troubles come, and so nearly
turn her story to tragedy. The main motive may remind you a little of
that grim play of witchcraft that we saw at the St. James's Theatre some
years ago. But fortunately the end is more comfortable. _Cordelia_, in
short, is a nicely-flavoured romance of old America, with at least three
unusually well-drawn characters to give it substance. I have no doubt at
all of its success.

* * * * *

OUR ECONOMISTS.

[Illustration: _Customer._ "I've called about the cough mixture I
bought. The first dose cured me."

_Chemist._ "The instantaneous effect of that preparation, Sir, has been
remarked by everybody."

_Customer._ "it's amazing; and, as there's only one dose gone, I thought
perhaps you'd change what was left for some photographic plates."]

* * * * *

LADY POORE'S _Recollections of an Admiral's Wife_ (SMITH, ELDER) is as
excellent a book of its kind as readers of _Punch_ are likely to find
reviewed in a month of Wednesdays. Scrapbooks of reminiscences are so
often dumped upon a surfeited world that it is at once a pleasure and a
duty to draw attention to a volume of real worth and significance.
Wherever LADY POORE was living--whether in Australia before the War