Forty years ago Mr. Kearton began his career as a
nature photographer by taking some of the earliest photographs of birds in a wild state in the woods of Kenley in Surrey. And now, after a lifetime of wandering in nearly every corner of the world, he has come back to Surrey and settled in a country house near the scene of his first experiments. This senti- mental coincidence has, of course, roused in the author more than his usual feelings of tenderness for the wild creatures that surround him, and My Woodland Home (Jarrolds, 7s. 6d.) contains some of his most heart-felt prose. But whether you like birds to be called Mister or not, it will be admitted that Mr. Kearton understands the world of which he writes and takes pictures. Most readers will be astonished that a Surrey garden could reveal such a wide and often unusual variety of wild life. Their astonishment will be the best tribute to Mr. Kearton's patience, and his skill as observer and photographer ; and his usefulness as a guide to a world that is so close, and generally so little known, offsets the tiresome peep-bo jolliness of his style.
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