because our credulity is not strained unduly either by the superhuman
ingenuity of the hunter or an excess of diabolical cunning on the part
of the quarry. Otherwise the story possesses the usual features. There
is the clever young detective, in whose company we expectantly scour
the bazaars and alleys of Mangadone in search of a missing boy. There
are Chinamen and Burmese, opium dens and curio shops, temples and
go-downs. Miss MARJORIE DOUIE has more than a superficial knowledge
of her stage setting, and gets plenty of movement and colour into
it. And if she has elaborated the characters and inter-play of her
Anglo-Burmese colony to an extent that is not justified either by
their connection with the plot or the necessity of mystifying the
reader we must forgive her because she does it very well--so well
indeed that we may hope to see _The Pointing Man_, excellent as it is
in its way, succeeded by a contribution to Anglo-Oriental literature
that will do ampler justice to Miss DOUIE'S unquestionable gifts.

* * * * *

Our writers appear willing converts to my own favourite theory that
the public is, like a child, best pleased to hear the tales that it
already knows by heart. The latest exponent of this is the lady who
prefers to be called only "The Author of _An Odd Farmhouse_." Her new
little book, _Your Unprofitable Servant_ (WESTALL), is a record of
domestic happenings and impressions during the early phases of the
War. The thing is skilfully done, and in the result carries you with
interest from page to page; though (as I hint) the history of those
August days, when Barbarism came forth to battle and Civilisation
regretfully unpacked its holiday suit-cases, can hardly appeal now
with the freshness of revelation. Still, the writer brings undeniable
gifts to her more than twice-told tale. She has, for example,