_BURDETT'S Official Intelligence for_ 1893 is just out, a promising
young thing in its twelfth year. It is a little early to talk of the
holidays, but my Baronite, regarding this thin Vol. of 1783 pages,
says he cannot help thinking with what pleasure the City merchant,
or his clerk, hastening to the seaside, will pack it up with his
collar-box. Every year the monumental work increases in value, by
reason of accumulated information. To the tired City man, scaling some
Alp, gliding in well-found yacht over silver seas, or prone in bosky
dell, there can be nothing more soothing or delightful than to take
his "BURDETT" out of his waistcoat-pocket, and read it through from
first page to last.
For _The Tragedy of Ida Noble_ the Baron tenders his grateful
thanks to W. CLARK RUSSELL. It starts well, and the excitement is
artistically sustained. At the close of every chapter _Oliver_,
the reader, is perpetually "asking for more." A capital story of
adventure, where all, including the reader, are "quite at sea" until
the very last chapter. On nearing the middle of the book, the question
will occur to everyone experienced in such matters, "Does the hero
marry the heroine?" Now this, being a lady's secret, will not be
revealed by THE BARON DE B.-W.
* * * * *
The Plea of the Party Man.
(_On either side._)
"THERE'S _no_ Obstruction!"--Why, then, all this ruction?
"When _we_ obstruct, who dares to call't Obstruction?"
To dam a deluge, stop a bolting horse,--
That is obstruction, of a sort, of course;
_Our_ sort, in fact! But theirs on t'other side?
That's quite another matter. They can't hide
The cloven foot of malice, the false faitours!
Not obstruct _them_? As well say not hang traitors!
[Illustration: Obstruction.]
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