Berkhill : a Reminiscence. By a "Liverpool Merchant." (J. Lewis,
Selkirk.)—These are very pleasant sketches, with some striking illustrations by Mr. Isaac Cooke, R.B.A. We gladly make acquaintance with the place and with the people, for indeed they are worth knowing. Of course, the author sees some things through a rosy mist, as it is fitting that he should. Mr. Andrew Lang, for instance, gives a dismal account of trout- fishing in these regions. The waters are "flogged to death," if they have not been poisoned by noxious influents. But anyhow the charm of the book remains. There are not a few good stories of the genuine Scotch type in it. An old dame saw a man at work on the Sabbath, as she thought. "Ye maun e'en gang owre an' warn him," she said to her husband. Jamie went. " Wat, my man, I didna' expec' to see ye here the day; d'ye mind what day it's ?" "Ay," said the man, " I was down to the preaching at Roberton yesterday." The old lady had lost count of the days, and had broken the Sabbath herself. But then she lived in a place which could not even boast that there was seldom a day when you did not see some one. Good, too, is the old fisherman's consolation when a poor basket was brought home. Eh, but yer brither 's a graund fisher." The art was in the family. The charm of the book is completed by a certain literary touch.
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