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OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.

My Baronite has been reading Mona Maclean, Medical Student.  (BLACKWOOD.) “It is,” he tells me, “a Novel with a purpose—­no recommendation for a novel, more especially when the purpose selected is that of demonstrating the indispensability of women-doctors.”  Happily GRAHAM TRAVERS, as the author (being evidently a woman) calls herself, is lured from her fell design.  There is a chapter or two of talk among the girls in the dissecting-room and the chemical laboratory, with much about the “spheno-maxillary fossa,” the “dorsalis pedis,” and the general whereabouts of “Scarpa’s triangle.”  But these can be skipped, and the reader may get into the company of Mona Maclean when she is less erudite, and more womanly.  When not dissecting the “plantar arch,” Mona is a bright, fearless, clever girl, with a breezy manner, refreshing to all admitted to her company.  The episode of her shopkeeping experience is admirably told, and affords the author abundant and varied opportunity of exercising her gift of drawing character. Mona Maclean is, apparently, a first effort at novel-writing.  The workmanship improves up to the end of the third volume; and Miss TRAVERS’ next book will be better still.

[Illustration:  Affection’s Offering—­from Alfred the Second to Dear George the first.]

To Mr. J. FISHER UNWIN comes the happy thought of issuing, in a neatly-packed box, the whole twenty volumes of the Pseudonym Library—­and a very acceptable Christmas-Box it will make.  The volumes, with their odd, oblong shape, are delightful to hold; the type is good, and the excellence of the literary matter is remarkably well kept up over the already long series.  Mr. UNWIN promises fresh volumes, introducing to the British public Finnish and Danish authors, or Danish first, and the others to Finnish.

See how these Poets love one another!  How touching is the dedication of ALFRED AUSTIN’S latest volume to GEORGE MEREDITH!  May both live long and prosper, is the hearty wish of their friend,

THE BARON DE BOOK-WORMS.

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THE ROYAL ROAD TO COMFORT.—­A DREAM.

The rival Steamboats were on the alert.  It was a misty night, and it was a difficult matter to make out the lights of Calais Harbour.

“We shall catch him yet,” said the Captain of the Blue Vessel.

“He will not escape us,” observed the C.O. of the Red.

Suddenly the Blue started at full steam ahead, and was lost to sight in Calais harbour.  She was quickly followed by the Red, moving with equal expedition.

The vessels reached the quay nearly at the same time.  Then there was confusion and sounds of military music.  Evidently the Illustrious Personage had embarked.  Then the mist cleared away.

“He is safe on board,” said the Captain of the Blue Vessel, and his Mate indulged in a short laugh of triumph.