FICTION.
ENTER AN AMERICAN.*
Teen humours of boarding-house life have been exploited at different times by modern novelists, but, to the best of our belief, the most suggestive scenario for a work of this sort remains, like the " trackless places of the Pierides, untrodden hitherto by any human foot." We refer to the passage in Herbert Spencer's Autobiography in which he describes the company lie consorted with in his twenty-one years' sojourn in a boarding-house in Bayswater " The house is situated in a salubrious locality, and has Kensing- ton Gardens within three or four minutes' walk. Experience proved it to be quiet and well managed; and it contained a group of inmates above the average of those one finds living en pension. There was a retired government officer belonging to the Stores Department—s Mauritian of French extraction, honourable in feeling, a great snuff-taker, and one who regretted that duelling had ceased. Next to him came an admiral, who every day drank tlio Queen's health, and displayed piety and militancy in a not unusual combination. Another naval officer there was who uttered Radical sentiments, fostered in hire, I fancy, by disappointment in his profession, for which he WAS evidently incompetent; and there seas also a captain in the army, occupied in some philan- thropic work in London. Then came a maiden lady, between 70 and 80, who had acquired a certain stock of information, Gloss, and feelings in her teens, and had never since added tear niodified them. Them seers fixtures. After them may be named aundry who were semi-settled—tho wife of a judge in the West Indies, staying in England for hor health, pretty and inane; an Indian tea planter, quiet and not unintelligent ; an Australian with wife and daughter, come back to spend his money. From time to time those were other visitors from the Colonies— from New Zealand, from the Cape, from Canada. Occasionally, too, there were Americans; of whom I remember the episcopal bishop of Illinois with his children. And then to those settled and semi-settled, must be added those who cams for short periods —for the London season, or for a few weeks. Humdrum was the circle they formed, as indeed are most social circles. But on the whole I was tolerably contented with my surroundings. I have said that 37 Queen's Gardens was the address of my new abode ; but after a few years this address Was slightly changed. Our hostess, Miss Shickle, took the next house No. 38, and by a door- .aay broken through, united the two houses. Thereafter No 38 became my address. As the dining-room and general drawing- room were in No. 37, No. 38 was quieter; and I was enabled to seclude myself as much as I wished. In fact I saw no more of my follow guests than one sees of those who daily cores to the table d'hbte of a Continental hotel. As the arrangements wore such aa freed me from all trouble and provided for my needs satisfactorily, I was never seriously tempted to make any change."
Being wholly unable ourselves to make use of the magnificent possibilities contained in this statement, we generously offer it without fee to any novelist in search of a plot, suggesting as a title "Thu Philosopher on Pension."
Mr. Crosby-HeatIt's dramatis personae are not so richly diversified as those enumerated above. There is nobody quite so romantic among Miss Pewsey'e guests as the Mauritian gentleman, "honourable in feeling, a great snuff- taker, and one who regretted that duelling had ceased " ; and we regret the early disappearance from the scene of the Colonel, who might otherwise have developed amiable peculiarities comparable to those of the officers described by Mr. Herbert Spencer. In respect of nomenclature, again, there is nothing to equal Shiokle, which seems to int a perfectly ideal name for a boarding-house keeper. On the other hand, wo have in Mrs. Curran and Mrs. Bannister combined something like a counterpart to the "pretty and inane" wife of the West Indian Judge, and though there is only one American, Ur. Wallace is a host in himself. The plot is simple enough. On the departure of the Colonel, her only male tenant, for his summer outing, Miss Peweey, the hard-working, kindly, anxious little minagere, is left with her four lady guests—My. Cloning, a stately, austere, and parsimonious old widow ; Mrs. Curran, the harassed but sprightly and courageous wife of a detrimental Major in the Indian Army ; Mrs. Bannister, another widow, young, "pretty and inane "; and Miss Spink, the strenuous and angular daughter of a deceased clergyman. The opening chapters of the story are excellent, and the set- ting of the little stage for the entrance of the principal character could not be better done. The ladies are united by the common bond of a more or less restricted purse; but there the similarity ends, and their different characteristics, and the cleavages and attractions which result from them, are
• Enter 55 American. By E. Crosby-lloatA. London Methuen and Co. (6..] indicated with light yet engaging humour. What could be better, for example, than the account of Mrs. Curran's DDLSiCAl accomplishments f-
" She is .elf-taught, her musical nature having broken the barriers of ignorance with incredible results. She may las described as a musical conjurer, for she accomplishes oaths twanging old Broadwood in the drawing room feats that are little short of marvellous. She can play a familiar air in a rhythm totally different from that in which it is written; she can combine two airs no skilfully that one can distinguish neither, whilst yet ono recognises both; she is an adopt in the musical legerdemain which utilises one air as the accompaniment to another. Her masterpiece is Auld Lang Syne played with the left hand, and My Heart is Sairfor Somebody played with the right Mrs. Golfing calls for this when she and the Colonel have won at bridge, and she looks severely at Mrs. Bannister, who sometimes surreptitiously puts her fingers in her rare ditring the performance."
The irruption of the wealthy, unconventional American who becomes the temporary occupant of the Colonel's rooms is nothing short of electrifying in its results on his fellow-boarders. Ile is as stimulating as a catfish. First he shocks, then he cap. tivates, and in the long run he humanizes them—wives, and spinsters alike. We have only one serious criticism to make; it is not that Mr. Wallace's goodness is incredible, bat that be is credited with working too many miracles. Also that it is overdoing things a little to represent him as having lost three wives in rapid sneceseion. So tender-hearted a man as we are asked to believe him to be would hardly have emerged from this triple bereavement with such high spirits. With these deductions, we can cordially commend Mr. Crosby-Heath's story for its vivacity and cheerfulness.
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