which, since they have nothing solid to rest upon, begin by baffling, and end by boring, the reader who strives to keep pace with them.  A young officer, wishful to dine at a smart hotel and having no appropriate clothes, is struck with the idea of pretending to be a foreign royalty, and thus incapable of sartorial indiscretion.  And, as all sorts of assassins and undesirable aliens happened to be waiting about to kill the man whose style he borrowed, you can make a fair guess at the subsequent action.  There is much dialogue, most of it sparkling, though even here I have to report criticism from a young friend to whom I introduced the story.  He said, “People don’t talk like that really.”  Which happens to be undeniably true.  Thus, while giving Mr. McKENNA credit for an active invention and some really writty turns of phrase, I fear I must repeat my warning that as a farceur he is below his best form.

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The clever lady who elects to call herself “RICHARD DEHAN” has already secured a deserved reputation as a writer of short stories.  Her new book, Under the Hermes (HEINEMANN), gives us a further selection of tales of various lengths, from one that is not quite a novel to others that are as brief as ten pages.  The themes and settings are equally varied; but all—­or almost all—­show the writer at her best in the vigorous, swift and exciting development of some dramatic situation.  The exception, I may say at once, is the title-tale, to my mind a stilted and—­in a double sense—­obviously “studio piece,” quite unworthy of its position at the opening of so attractive a volume, where indeed it might easily discourage a questing reader.  “Mr. DEHAN” is far more fairly represented by such brilliant little miniatures of historical romance as (to select three at random) “A Speaking Likeness,” “A Game of Faro” and “The Vengeance of the Cherry Stone”—­slight sketches ranging from France of the Revolution to mediaeval Bologna, but each most effective in its vivid colouring and well-handled climax.  Since one of these has lingered for many years in my recollection from some else-forgotten magazine, I suspect that most of the tales in the volume may be making a second appearance.  If so, it is in every way deserved.

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Trench Pictures from France (MELROSE) is by the late Major WILLIAM REDMOND, M.P., and The Ways of War (CONSTABLE) is by the late Professor T.M.  KETTLE, M.P.  Both these books are memorials raised to their authors by the pious zeal of relations and friends who thought it shame that so much nobility of purpose and generous ardour should go unrecorded in a tribute more permanent than the fleeting memories of contemporary survivors.  Both WILLIE REDMOND and TOM KETTLE were Irishmen and members of the Nationalist Party and were to that extent foes of the British Government; yet, when they were compelled to look the Prussian menace in the face, neither the older