English, only equalled by
that of the flustered client explaining what has happened to the lynx-eyed
sleuth, they are as stout a trio as ever thrust coal into a furnace or fist
into a first mate's jaw. English, American and Scotch (and this would seem
to be another injustice to the Green Island), in many ports and on many
seas they have many wild yet not wicked adventures, knowing, with an
instinctive delicacy born perhaps of the perusal of monthly magazines,
where (even whilst crossing it) to draw the line. Aft, you shall come
across once more the evergreen _Captain Kettle_, with his sartorial outfit
unimpaired, his endless tobacco reserves not withered by a single leaf from
their former glory. About wind-jammers and tramp-steamers and the harbours
of all the world the author writes familiarly as usual, and has several
ingenious plots to unfold, together with one or two that are not so good;
and I suppose that the whisky drunk in the pages of _Firemen Hot_ would
float a small battleship, and the men laid out with lefts to the jaw, if
set end to end, stretch from Hull to Plymouth Docks. I sometimes wonder
whether Mr. CUTCLIFFE HYNE ever in an idle hour picks up a book by Mr.
CONRAD, and, if so, what he thinks of it.

* * * * *

I confess to being both weary and a little sceptical of heroines (in
novels) who leap from the obscurity of mountain glens to fame and a
five-figure income as dancers. The latest example is the young person who
fills the title _role_ in _Belle Nairn_ (MELROSE), and of her I must say
that she displays almost all the faults of her kind. She certainly did
carry on! On the first page she ran away from the humble cot of her
virtuous parents to seek the protection of an aunt whom she supposed (I
could not discover on what grounds) to be wealthy. However, so far from
this, the aunt turned out to be even worse-housed than the parents, and in
point of fact to keep what you might call a gambling-cot on her side of the
mountains, where a select circle met to drink smuggled spirits and
entertain themselves in other ways that are at least sufficiently indicated
in the text. So _Belle_ shook off the dust of the aunt also; and soon
afterwards found herself in an open boat, which was run down by the yacht
of some real live lords, to one of whom she made violent eyes; at the same
time giving an estimate of her social position that went considerably
beyond what was warranted by the