The Fortunate Youth, by William J. Locke. [John Lane Company, New York.] Has all the Locke charm--and all the Locke prettinesses. The dish has been served so often that it has become a bit tasteless. Most accurately described as the kind of story whose heroine is always called "princess" and whose hero rises from the slums to make flaming speeches in parliament and achieve the "Vision Splendid." It will probably run into ten editions and bring much joy.
The Wonderful Visit, by H. G. Wells. [E. P. Dutton and Company, New York.] A reprint of a story published in 1895 which shows Mr. Wells in the very interesting position of groping toward his present altitude.
Sweetapple Cove, by George Van Schaick. [Small, Maynard, and Company, Boston.] The kind of sweet, gentle love story that a publisher would rather discover than anything Ethel Sidgwick could write. We searched in vain for just one page to hold our attention.
Idle Wives, by James Oppenheim. [The Century Company, New York.] Despite a narrative style that at times fairly suffocates with its emotionality, Mr. Oppenheim has put up a very strong case for the woman who demands something of life except having things done for her.
Bedesman 4, by Mary J. H. Shrine. [The Century Company, New York.] The outline is traditional: an English peasant boy makes his way through Oxford, becomes a brilliant historian and a "gentleman," and marries a "lady." But the treatment is fresh and delightful; there is something real about it.
Over the Hills, by Mary Findlater. [E. P. Dutton and Company, New York.] There are no new things to say about a Findlater novel. They are always good.
Sunshine Jane, by Anne Warner. [Little, Brown, and Company, Boston.] Jane has our own theory that one can get what he wants out of life if he wants it hard enough. Though we don't advocate some of her "sunshine" sentimentalities.
The Full of the Moon, by Caroline Lockhart. [J. B. Lippincott Company, Philadelphia.] As superfluous as The Lady Doc. Those people who are always asking why such books as The Dark Flower should be written ought to turn their questioning to things of this type.
The Congresswoman, by Isabel Gordon Curtis. [Browne and Howell Company, Chicago.] The tale of an Oklahoma woman elected to congress which closes with a retreat--though not an ignominious one--to a little white house with a fireside and a conquering male.