‘Mr. Winter’ is always amusing and audacious, though we cannot say that we entirely approve of the names he gives to his stories. Bootle’s Baby was a masterpiece, but Houp-la was a terrible title, and That Imp is not much better. The book, however, is undoubtedly clever, and the Imp in question is not a Nyctalops nor a specimen for a travelling museum, but a very pretty girl who, because an officer has kissed her without any serious matrimonial intentions, exerts all her fascinations to bring the unfortunate Lovelace to her feet and, having succeeded in doing so, promptly rejects him with a virtuous indignation that is as delightful as it is out of place. We must confess that we have a good deal of sympathy for ‘Driver’ Dallas, of the Royal Horse, who suffers fearful agonies at what he imagines is a heartless flirtation on the part of the lady of his dreams; but the story is told from the Imp’s point of view, and as such we must accept it. There is a very brilliant description of a battle in the Soudan, and the account of barrack life is, of course, admirable. So admirable indeed is it that we hope that ‘Mr. Winter’ will soon turn his attention to new topics and try to handle fresh subjects. It would be sad if such a clever and observant writer became merely the garrison hack of literature. We would also earnestly beg ‘Mr. Winter’ not to write foolish prefaces about unappreciative critics; for it is only mediocrities and old maids who consider it a grievance to be misunderstood.
(1) Miss Bayle’s Romance: A Story of To-Day. (Bentley and Son, Publishers in Ordinary to Her Majesty the Queen.)
(2) From Heather Hills. By Mrs. J. Hartley Perks. (Hurst and Blackett.)
(3) A Heart on Fire. By Mrs. Houston. (F. V. White and Co.)
(4) A Bag of Diamonds. By George Manville Fenn. (Ward and Downey.)
(5) The Great Hesper. By Frank Barrett. (Ward and Downey.)
(6) A Day after the Fair. By William Cairns. (Swan Sonnenschein and Co.)
(7) That Imp. By John Strange Winter, Author of Booties’ Baby, etc. (F. V. White and Co.)
THE POETS’ CORNER—III
(Pall Mall Gazette, May 30, 1887.)
Such a pseudonym for a poet as ‘Glenessa’ reminds us of the good old days of the Della Cruscans, but it would not be fair to attribute Glenessa’s poetry to any known school of literature, either past or present. Whatever qualities it possesses are entirely its own. Glenessa’s most ambitious work, and the one that gives the title to his book, is a poetic drama about the Garden of Eden. The subject is undoubtedly interesting, but the execution can hardly be said to be quite worthy of it. Devils, on account of their inherent wickedness, may be excused for singing—
Then we’ll rally—rally—rally—
Yes, we’ll rally—rally
O!—
but such scenes as—