Concerning Paul and Fiammetta. By L. Allen Harker. (Edward Arnold.
5s.)—Though this book is not, properly speaking, a novel, the account of the doings of the children in the nursery of Squire Staniland is much more amusing reading than most works of contemporary fiction. It has humour as well as fancy, and the grown-up people, seen through the children's eyes, are almost as successful as the children themselves. Paul is an even more original figure than Fiammetta, and his description of the " Mammon of ITnrighteousness" as " an unnatural animal who
does not lay eggs," occurring early in the book, causes the reader to have a cordial feeling of regard for a young person so capable of giving entertainment. His ingenious way of declining to eat when in a scrape so as to make his elders uncomfortable should be kept from the knowledge of other children. Indeed, it may be said that it would be safer for the work in question to be reserved for "grown-ups," as children might pay the author the sincere flattery of trying to imitate the exploits of her characters. There is no pretence at a plot in the book, which is merely a series of incidents occurring in the course of a long summer in the country ; but the way in which the four children are differentiated and each endowed with a well-marked individuality is extremely clever. The author arouses with singular ability a feeling of affec- tion, mingled with exasperation, for these naughty young people. The most amusing episode is in the chapter "Fiammetta goes a-fishing." In this the children go fishing in a flooded courtyard with Squire Staniland's best rod, and, with "a disgusting-looking pink worm writhing on the hook," they cast into a large pool, with the following result :— " A whole quarter of an hour went by, and nothing happened, when suddenly a white duck came waddling in from the stable- yard. Fiammetta gave the rod a whisk, and the worm lay on the ground wriggling not three yards from the duck. The reel went 'whirr,' the duck gave a loud quack, and, half rnnning, half flying, made across that yard in the utmost terror and consternation. Hold him up ! Let him go ! Follow him ! ' cried Paul in the greatest excitement, as we all three tumbled down the steps into the yard. I grasped the landing-net, Fiammetta hung on to the heavy trout rod, which bent almost to snapping under the strain, while that unhappy duck, with squawks' that got hoarser and weaker as the moments passed, went flapping and tumbling all over the yard. Can't you land him ? ' gasped Paul. Wind him in a bit ! Give me the landing-net, Janey. . . Fiammetta flung the rod from her with a sudden shriek. Oh, poor duck !' she sobbed, how we must be hurting it. Why, the hook is in its throat ! What shall we do ? Oh, catch the duck, and find somebody to take it out! Oh, poor, poor duck ! ' And Fiammetta ran distractedly to and fro, wringing her hands and sobbing, while the rain washed the tears from her cheeks."
For the conclusion of the adventure and the feelings of Squire Staniland the reader should consult the book itself. It is probably inevitable that a certain sentimentality should be touched on in the last chapter ; but it must be confessed that the "sweet sorrow" of parting strikes rather a false note at the end of these sketches. The chapter does not ring so true as the others, and the reader has an uneasy feeling that Fiammetta would really have been delighted at the prospect of any change. Also it could be wished that the concluding verses had not been quoted. Harry's observation would surely have made a better end to the book:—" She'll come back soon, you bet. I heard Mr. Glynn say so. Buck up, Janey. Let's go and feed the rabbits." That is entirely appropriate, and would have made a much more satisfactory conclusion. It is perhaps captious to find any fault at all with so delightful a little volume ; but in a book which strikes so true a note all through, the critic may be forgiven for wishing that the simplicity of the original keynote had been preserved to the concluding sentence.
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