The sight of this little book, as thick as, and somewhat broader than,
a Valpy's Virgil, will make scores of little Lord Lingers think of
"bygone mirth, that after no repenting draws." It is all over a holiday
book, stuck as full of wood-cuts as a cake is of currants, and not like
the widely-thrown fruit of school plum puddings.
To begin with the exterior, which is one of the most ingenious specimens
of block-printing we have yet seen. The medallion frontispiece contains
the Publishers' Dedication to "the young of Great Britain," in return
for which their healths should be drunk at the next breaking-up of every
school in the empire.
As it professes to be a complete encyclopaedia of the sports and
pastimes of youth, it contains, 1. Minor Sports, as marbles, tops,
balls, &c. 2. Athletic Sports. 3. Aquatic Recreations. 4. Birds,
and other boy fancies. 5. Scientific Recreations. 6. Games of Skill.
7. The Conjuror; and 8. Miscellaneous Recreations. All these occupy
460 pages, which, like every sheet of the MIRROR, are as full as an
egg. The vignettes and tail-pieces are the prettiest things we have
ever seen, and some are very picturesque.
In our school-days there was no such book as this _Justinian of the
play-ground_, if we except a thin volume of games published by Tabart.
Boys then quarrelled upon nice points of play, parties ran high, and
civil war, birch, and the 119th psalm were the consequences. A disputed
marble, or a questioned run at cricket, has thus broken up the harmony
of many a holiday; but we hope that such feuds will now cease; for the
"Boy's Own Book," will settle all differences as effectually as a police
magistrate, a grand jury, or the house of lords. Boys will no longer
sputter and fume like an over-toasted apple; but, even the cares of
childhood will be smoothed into peace; by which means good humour may
not be so rare a quality among men. But to complete this philanthropic
scheme, the publishers of the "_Boy's_ Own Book," intend producing a
similar volume for _Girls_. This is as it should be, for the _Misses_
ought to have an equal chance with the _Masters_--at least so say
we,--_plaudite_, clap your little hands, and _valete_, good bye!
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