he continued
repetition of the first line. "In Morven's Mead," by Winifred V. Jordan,
is one of a series of fanciful poems all bearing the same title. The
present verses show all the charm and delicacy which characterise the
whole. "Patience--A Woman's Virtue," is one of Mrs. Eloise N. Griffith's
thoughtful moral essays, and is as commendable for its precepts as for
its pure style. "His Flapper," by Edna von der Heide, is a clever piece
of trochaic verse in Cockney dialect, which seems, so far as an American
critic can judge, to possess a very vivid touch of local colour. "An Eye
for an Eye," by the same authoress, seems vaguely familiar, having
possibly been published in the amateur press before. If so, it is well
worthy of republication. "Women and Snakes," a sketch by Eleanor J.
Barnhart, is not a misogynistical attempt at comparison, but a theory
regarding the particular fear with which the former are popularly
supposed to regard the latter. Whilst Miss Barnhart writes with the
bravery of the true scientist, we are constrained to remark that a
certain dislike of snakes, mice, and insects is a very real thing; not
only amongst the fair, but equally amongst those sterner masculine souls
who would stoutly deny it if questioned. It is an atavistical fear,
surviving from primitive ages when the venomous qualities of reptiles,
insects, and the like, made their quick avoidance necessary to
uninstructed man. "Be Tolerant," by Winifred V. Jordan, is a didactic
poem of the sort formerly published in =The Symphony=. While it does not
possess in fullest measure the grace and facility observed in Mrs.
Jordan's more characteristic work; it is nevertheless correct and
melodious, easily equalling most poetry of its kind. Mr. McColl's
editorial column, the only masculine feature of the issue, contains a
very noble tribute to the two soldier cousins of Miss von der Heide, who
have laid down their lives for the cause of England and the right. From
such men springs the glory of Britannia.

* * * * *

=The Scot= for August opens with Winifred V. Jordan's tuneful lines, "If
You but Smile," whose inspiration and construction are alike of no mean
order. "Hoary Kent," by Benjamin Winskill, is an exquisite sketch of a
region where the past still lives. In an age of turmoil and unrest, it
is a comfort to think that in one spot, at least, the destroying claws
of Time have left no scars. There lie the scenes dear