BOOKS FOR CHRISTMAS. 
237 
The term “wild garden,” the author tells us, “ is applied essentially to the 
placing of perfectly hardy exotic plants under conditions where they will thrive 
without further care. Some have thought of it,” he adds, “ as a garden run wild, 
or sowing annuals in a muddle, whereas it does not interfere with the regulation 
flower garden at all.” Then, by pen and pencil, Mr. Robinson proceeds to ex- 
emplify his meaning. Two of the cuts we are enabled to reproduce : one of the 
white Japanese Anemone, a free use of which — there was only one small clump 
this autumn— would do something to brighten the dreary wildness of the Embank- 
ment Gardens ; the other of the Cape Pondweed, which is making itself at home 
Cape Pondweed [Aponogelon distachyon). 
in a pond on Hampstead Heath. Ex duo disce omnes. If we must criticise, we 
would hint that the chapter on British wild flowers would be the better for revi- 
sion by some specialist in British plants ; there are statements to which exception 
might be taken, and so beautiful a book should not have even slight blemishes. 
But enjoyment rather than criticism is the prevailing feeling when we have the 
privilege of noticing such a volume as this. 
Messrs. Macmillan always provide attractive fare, but they have seldom given 
us a more charming volume than the new edition of The Fables of Aisop (6s.), to 
which Mr. Joseph Jacobs has provided a preface and notes, for the benefit of 
those who want something more than the fables themselves, while some hundreds 
of Mr. Richard Heighway’s delightful and original pictures adorn the book. We 
shall be surprised if one copy is found sufficient for the average nursery ; the 
drawings are bold in style, and abound in humour of the kind that appeals to 
children, not only of a larger but of a smaller growth, and under such circum- 
stances books do not last long. The same publishers send us Mr. Rudyard Kip- 
ling’s Jungle Book (6s.), which although issued some few months back has by 
no means exhausted its popularity, and will, if we mistake not, find its way into 
many homes this Christmas. There we re?.d at length the adventures of the 
“man’s cub,” Mowgli, among his “ brothers,” the wolves; of Rikki-tikki the 
mongoose, and the great war that he fought single-handed ; of “ tiger-tiger,” and 
the white seal, and little Toomai of the elephants, who saw “ what never man 
had seen before — the dance of the elephants at night and alone in the heart of the 
Faro hills”; all these told as Mr. Rudyard Kipling can tell stories, and fully 
illustrated by his father and other capable draughtsmen. There will be happi- 
ness among the young folk who make Mowgli’s acquaintance this Christmas. 
When we noticed last year (p. 176) Mr. George Milner’s Country Pleasures, 
we mentioned the occasional holiday jaunts to Arran and elsewhere which lent 
variety to that most pleasant book. Now he takes us to Arran once more — not 
for a passing glimpse, but for as long as his book takes in the reading and lasts in 
