LITERARY AND BIOGRAPHICAL 



87 



IlTERARY 



BIOGRAPHICAL 



In the Woods and on the Shore. By Richard 

 D. Ware. Boston, Massachusetts: L. 

 C. Page & Company. 



The author says of this book: 



"These sketches of happenings in the 

 woods and on the shore are but narratives 

 of personal experience with a little of ob- 

 servation and commentary. They are writ- 

 ten chiefly for the pleasure of re-calling 

 them and the scenes of their occurrence 

 more vividly to my own mind in these after 

 days, and with the second thought that as 

 they had interested me so much, they might 

 interest others a little." 



Famous Poems Explained. By Waitman 

 Barbe, Litt. D. New York City: Hinds, 

 Noble & Eldredge. 



It is strange that this' book was needed, 

 "for teachers and as a help for students," 

 in explaining the poems "taken from various 

 standard School Readers." It would seem 

 as' if any school reader should explain the 

 essential facts regarding any poem not 

 readily understood. 



But it evidently was needed and, aside 

 from its school use, the author has well 

 filled his desire to help "a large and increas- 

 ing number of private students of literature 

 all over the country." It is a good book for 

 the general reader of the classic short 

 poems. The author, by the way, is a most 

 genial man as well as successful pro- 

 fessor of English literature. He is at the 

 West Virginia University, Morgantown. 



Alexander's Writings on Practical Bee Cul- 

 ture. Edited and Compiled by H. H. 

 Root. Medina, Ohio: The A. I. Root 

 Company. 



Mr. Alexander kept bees in a large way, 

 and produced honey by the carloads. In 

 this namphlet. the benefits of his extensive 

 practical experiences are given to the public. 

 The articles have been gathered from many 

 numbers of "Gleanings in Bee Culture." 



Hopkins's Pond and Other Sketches. By 



Robert T. Morris. New York City: G. 

 P. Putman's Sons. 



This is a collection of sketches originally 

 "penned in spare moments to please the lit- 

 tle coterie of friends who gather about my 

 open fireplace in the long winter evenings, 

 where the largest bass fails to escape from 

 the hook, and where the bear makes his 



most furious onslaught." These sketches 

 have been published in various periodicals 

 and then gathered into this book. 



The first chapter on "Hopkins's Pond" is 

 a most touching tribute to the memories of 

 boyhood days; for the author was, yes, is, a 

 boy, a real boy, just the right kind of a 

 boy. He holds sympathy for other boys, 

 as expressed in another chapter: 



"Then there are the boys to be considered. 

 How well do I remember the joyous days 

 of childhood when most of my hours were 

 spent in the woods, and when the birds, and 

 animals, and fishes, and plants seemed to be 

 the only things in the world worthy of con- 

 sideration." 



Oh! What dainty expressiveness is this: 



"Echo hiding up among the rocks quietly 

 reproved the boy who yelled too loudly 

 when he pulled the croaking bullhead out of 

 the warm pond water, and with a low, for- 

 bearing voice showed with nice modulation 

 how the sound of joy ought to be made next 

 time." 



The author makes us love the pond, as he 

 does, by skillfully portraying its charming 

 present, and heart touching memories. He 

 shows us how much it means to those who 

 know it, and how little it expresses to those 

 beyond the esoteric group. 



Just read this masterpiece, any of you old 

 boys with pond memories, and the present 

 repeatedly living over of those days, and 

 then scream with delight, silently in your 

 heart, at the touch of expressiveness that 

 makes us all kin: 



"One day recently Echo, up among the 

 rocks, was heard protesting more loudly 

 than ever before, and soon a coaching party 

 of sightseers with four bang-tailed horses 

 and a brazen horn came rolling along the 

 road. One of the ladies touched a gentle- 

 man on the arm and said, 'There is a pond.' 

 The gentleman answered, 'Yes.' And the 

 coach rolled on. 



"That was all that it meant to them, for 

 they were sightseers." 



Now yell, you naturalist reader, you gray 

 headed boy who understands, shout with ex- 

 ultation at your heart's wealth; lament the 

 indifference that "rolled on." Oh, the piti- 

 fulness of their poverty. 



"There is a pond." 



"Yes." 



It takes only three letters to tell a great 

 loss — a great misunderstanding — an incredi- 

 ble "other world." 



