at once obeys. "Bring me my books!" cries the Baron, "I am off to the
review."

The Baron's Deputy writes, that he has again been steeping himself in
poetry, and reports as follows:--_Ionica_ (GEORGE ALLEN) is a little
volume, which no admirer of true poetry should fail to possess. The
author now calls himself W. CORY, but he was known by a different name
to many generations of Etonians. His Muse generally wears a classical
robe, but her speech is always delightfully musical. She has beautiful
cadences, that haunt the memory like some old _Volkslied_. In spite of
a careless confusion between "thou" and "you," I defy anybody to read
"_Heraclitus_," to take only one instance, without a sense of pleasure
which will compel him to learn the two verses by heart. But the Muse
is pathetic, playful, and patriotic, too, when the occasion fits, and,
whatever she sings, she sings with genuine taste and feeling. Would
that we might hope for more of her pure music. So far the Deputy.

Was that excentric character in _David Copperfield_ nameless, who
was represented as sitting in some sort of slop-shop, wheezing out
fiercely, "O my lights and liver! O goroo, goroo!" I think DICKENS
didn't give him a name, good or bad; but his constant repetition of
the above outlandish exclamations has impressed upon him an awful
and terrific personality, which places him among the more popular
creations of Dickensian genius. Of what is this _à propos_? you
will ask the Baron. "Well," he will make reply, "it is _à propos_ of
cookery books, and bookery cooks; the latter being those who are not
above teaching themselves from the sacred books of Cookery, and who
can put in practice the lessons they learn therein. Now," quoth the
Baron, "let me recommend you to ask at CHAPMAN AND HALL's for _Hilda's
'Where Is It' of Recipes_, a work got up as simply and substantially