nothing since.

R.C.L.

* * * * *

[Illustration: ECHOES OF THE AIR-RAIDS.

_First Souvenir-hunter_. "FOUND ANYFINK, 'ERB?"

_Second ditto_. "NO; BUT THAT'LL BE ALL RIGHT. THEY'RE SURE TO COME
AGAIN TERMORRER NIGHT."]

* * * * *

OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.

(_BY MR. PUNCH'S STAFF OF LEARNED CLERKS._)

Not for a great while have I met a story at once so moving and so
simply made as _Summer_ (MACMILLAN). Of course at this time the art
of EDITH WHARTON is no new discovery; but to my thinking she has never
done better work than this tale of a New England village, and the
wakening to love of the girl who was drowsing away her youth there.
It is all, as I say, so simple, and written with such apparent economy
of effort, that only afterwards does the amazing cleverness of Mrs.
WHARTON'S method impress itself upon the reader. _Charity Royall_ was
a waif, of worse than ambiguous parentage, brought up in a community
where her passionate and violently sensitive nature was stifled. Two
men loved her--dour middle-aged Lawyer _Royall_, whose house she kept,