The Royal Runaway. By Laurence Housman. (Chapman and Hall. 6s.)—When
a King steals his own crown jewels and runs away from his throne, both the private life which he adopts and the public and political life which he has left behind are full of possibilities for a writer with a sense of humour. Mr. Housnian's style is, of course, admirable, and if he possessed a lighter and more definite touch his fantasy could worthily be classed with Mr. Chesterton's work. But the book is so lengthy and apparently so serious that we are puzzled and uncertain whether the chief intention be farce or satire. What gives us, after all, the greatest pleasure is not the bitterness of parody, but the shrewd touch of the novelist. Some of the subsidiary characters are drawn with brilliant technique, notably Mrs. Mack, who darns stockings on the Sabbath. "Well, outside I daresay as it's Sunday," she remarked, aloof of tone. "But I've got all out of my reckonings, and till I'm even with 'em it's in the beauty of the holiness of these here socks I've got to worship the Lord. When I'm all behind, like a cow's tail, you don't catch me stopping to count how many days there are in the week."
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