- FIDGETS. By George A. Birmingharti. • (Hodder and Stotighton
70. ed.. net.)---George Birmingham is one of those fortunate writers who are always welcome, and welcome to all kinds of readers. Indeed, mere human gratitude for the loosening of nervous tension by delight in his radiantly absurd dilemmas and the Smiling tolerance of his temper, probably 'overrides a critical appreciation Of the deftness of his craft and the profound tenderness he can bring to graver matters. This book begins among those haunts of ancient peace dedi- cated to the privileged classes, where one or two thus privi- leged are " fidgeting " at the monotonous ease of their lot. But soon there is question of golden treasure sunk off a wild Irish island with the promising name of Inishgowlan. Is it necessary to say more ? Absurdity begins on Dublin Quay as it did in days of yore, when, on mounting into the first jaunting- car, one stepped into a comedy; and presently, with Lady Anne and her friend the publisher and her guardian-butler, Pritchard, we are conversing with Bridgy-Ann and Doyle (to whom we could listen for weeks) all joyously at home in the shining atoning democracy of mirth. But the pace is not so furious as in the period of Spanish Gold. We smile rather than laugh. Age has taken its toll of these adventurers. The parson, the publisher, and even Lady Anne have to beat a precipitate retreat to their comforts, away from the island lazy in the sunlight, and the wheeling terns, and the jellyfish in the silken sea—and the police boat. But the author, and we—and Lady Anne, know that if they be cured of adventure, it is because they are no longer good enough for adventure. This is a bright restorative of a book, with many reconciliations molten in its sun-sweet mood.
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