* * * * *

Although Sir ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE calls his collection of detective
stories _His Last Bow_ (MURRAY), and also warns us that _Sherlock
Holmes_ is "somewhat crippled by occasional attacks of rheumatism,"
there is not in my lay opinion any cause for alarm. If I may jest
about such an austere personage as _Sherlock_, I should say that there
are several strings still left to his bow, and that the ever amenable
and admiring _Watson_ means to use them for all they are worth. At any
rate I sincerely hope so, for if it is conceivable that some of us
grow weary of _Sherlock's_ methods when we are given a long draught
of them no one will deny that they are palatable when taken a small
dose at a time. _Sherlock_, in short, is a national institution, and
if he is to be closed now and for ever I feel sure that the Bosches
will claim to have finished him off. And that would be a pity. Of
these eight stories the best are "The Dying Detective" and the
"Bruce-Partington Plans," but all of them are good to read, except
perhaps "The Devil's Foot," which left a "most sinister impression"
on dear old _Watson's_ mind, and incidentally on my own.

* * * * *

Every now and then, out of a mass of War-books grown so vast that no
single reader can hope even to keep count of them, there emerges one
of particular appeal. This is a claim that may certainly be made for
_An Airman's Outings_ (BLACKWOOD), especially just now when everything
associated with aviation is--I was about to say _sur le tapis_, but
the phrase is hardly well chosen--so conspicuously in the limelight.
The writer of these modest but thrilling records veils his identity