untz, is a poem of great merit despite the doubtful rhyme of
=way= and =quality= in the last stanza. Miss Mappin, in her article on
Milton, displays her ample knowledge of literary history, and even more
than her customary fluency. "The Contented Robin," a poem by Margaret
Mahon, is apt, pleasing and harmonious; whilst Miss Trafford's brief
jingle is quaint and clever. "Spring," by Randolph Trafford (aetat 10)
is full of the exuberant vigour of youth, and speaks well for the future
of this bright young bard.

* * * * *

=The Little Budget= for June gains distinction from Henry Clapham
McGavack's brilliant essay on American Anglophobia, entitled "Blood is
not Thicker Than Water." This acute analysis of anti-British sentiment
among certain classes in the States reveals a lamentable result of
bigotry and historical ignorance; which may, we hope, be cured by the
new bonds of alliance betwixt the Old and the New Englands. As Mr.
McGavack well demonstrates, most of our Anglophobia is manufactured by
the alleged "historians" who poison the minds of the young through
mendacious textbooks. This species of false teaching, an evil potently
fostered by the Fenians and Sinn Feiners who lurk serpent-like in our
midst, is one which cannot too soon be eradicated; for the cultural
identity and moral unity of the States and the Empire make such sources
of unintelligent prejudice increasingly nauseous and detrimental. We may
add that the textbook treatment of our War between the States is almost
equally unfair, the Northern cause being ridiculously exalted above the
brave and incredibly high-minded attitude of the Confederacy.

Another delightful prose contribution is "Back to Blighty," by Joseph
Parks, a vivid vignette of one phase of military life. "Trinidad and its
Forests," by F. E. M. Hercules, is marked by its author's customary ease
of expression and felicity of diction; presenting many facts of general
interest. The poetry in this issue includes work from the pens of J. E.
Hoag, H. P. Lovecraft, Rev. Eugene B. Kuntz, Beryl Mappin, and the
Editor. Dr. Kuntz's lines to the memory of Phillips Gamwell are animated
with a nobility which well befits their subject, though the rhyme of
=day= and =melody= is not strictly correct. Few amateur poets are able
to achieve the sonorous dignity which Dr. Kuntz imparts to his flowing
Alexandrines, or to select with equal appropriateness the vivid and
musical words