Lucys both abound, and that Mrs. DOWDALL knows all about them; but I am not equally sure that the Susies deserve the encouragement of such a brilliant dissection.  Yet the men whose happiness she played with believed in Susie’s representation of herself as quite well-meaning, and other women who saw through her liked her in spite of their annoyance; and—­after all the other things I have said—­I am bound, in sincerity, to admit that I liked her too.

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You could scarcely have given a novelist a harder case than to prove the likeableness of Cherry Mart, as her actions show her in September (METHUEN), and I wonder how a Victorian writer would have dealt with the terrible chit.  But FRANK SWINNERTON, of course, is able to hold these astonishing briefs with ease.  Here is a girl who first turns the head of Marian Forster’s middle-aged husband in a pure fit of experimentalism, and then sets her cap with defiant malice at the young man who seems likely to bring real love into the elder woman’s life.  And yet Marian grows always fonder of her, and she, in the manner of a wayward and naughty child, of Marian.  Insolence and gaucherie are on the one hand, coolness and finished grace on the other, and, although there are several moments of hatred between the two, their affection is the proper theme of the book.  As for Nigel, he is impetuous and handsome, and falls in love with Marian because she is sympathetic, and with Cherry because she is Cherry, and also perhaps a little because the War has begun and the day of youth triumphant has arrived.  But he does not make a very deep impression upon me, and as for Marian’s husband, who is big and rather stupid, and always has been, I gather, a bit of a dog, he scarcely counts at all. Marian, however, is an extremely clever and intricate study, and for Cherry—­I don’t really know whether I like Cherry or not.  But I have certainly met her.

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Mr. Punch has pleasure in calling attention to two small volumes, lately issued, which reproduce matter that has appeared in his pages and therefore does not need any further token of his approbation:  to wit, A Little Loot (ALLEN AND UNWIN), by Captain E.V.  KNOX ("EVOE"); and Staff Tales (CONSTABLE), by Captain W.P.  LIPSCOMB, M.C. ("L."), with illustrations, now first published, by Mr. H.M.  BATEMAN.  Also to A Zoovenir (Dublin:  The Royal Zoological Society of Ireland), by Mr. CYRIL BRETHERTON ("ALGOL"), a book of verses which have appeared elsewhere and are being sold for the benefit of the Dublin Zoo.

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[Illustration:  The Fool. “GOOD MASTER CARPENTER, I AM IN GREAT NEED OF WIT FOR TONIGHT’S FEAST. HAST THOU ANY MERRY QUIP OR QUAINT CONCEIT WHEREWITH I MIGHT SET THE TABLE IN A ROAR?”