The William Henry Letters. By A. M. Daz. (Warne and
Co.)— This pleasant little book—the title of which quite misled us by its important political sound—comes from America, and consists of the letters passing between a school-boy and his friends, old and and young.. If they are not genuine documents, they are such admirable counterfeits. that their author must be very familiar with country-child life in the United States, and very fond of children, and not much less so of old ladies. Master William Henry is a very good boy, and intelligent and lively at the same time, and by no means an officious mentor, so that the letters continue both to edify by his example and to amuse by his. adventures, even when be grows too old to make us laugh at his child- like thoughts and language. Nevertheless, as the humour consists chiefly in this, the letters necessarily grow less• amusing to the elderly reader as the boy gets older, though the story, such as it is, probably gains in interest to children. The illustrations are not very funny. Mr. Lear has spoilt us for anything inferior in this style of art. But we must let William Henry say a word or two for himself. He writes, home about his clothea "My dear Grandmother,—One of my elbows came through, but the woman sewed it up again. I've used up both balls of my twine. And my white-handled knife,—I guess it went through a hole in my pocket, that I didn't know of till after my knife was lost. My trowsers grow pretty short. But she says its partly my legs getting long. I'm glad of that. And partly getting 'em wet. I stubbed my toe against a stump, and tumbled down and scraped a hole through the knee of my oldest pair. For it was very rotten cloth. I guess the hole is too crooked to have her sew it up again. She thinks a mouse ran up the leg, and gnawed that hole my knife went through, to get the crumbles in the pocket. I don't mean when they were on
me, but hanging up I did what you told me when I got wet. I hung my clothes round the kitchen stove on three chairs, but the cooking girl she flung them under the table. So now I go wrinkled, and the boys chase me to smooth out the wrinkles. I don't skip over any button-holes in the morning now, so my jacket comes out even Why didn't you tell me I had a red head ? They said they'd
pull my hair if 't weren't for burning their fingers. Derry said he guessed my hair was tired of standing up, and wanted to lie down to rest. I wish you would please send me a new comb, for the large end of mine has got all but five of the teeth broken out, and the small end can't get through. I can't get it cut because the barber has raised his price. Send quite a stout one. I have lost two of my pocket-handker- chiefs, and another went up on Dorry's kite and blew away."
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