I have for some time watched a steady improvement in the work of Mr. Ralph Straus. It is therefore a pleasure to greet _The Orley Tradition_ (Methuen) as his best yet. The _Orley_ tradition was to do nothing whatever, and, like the House of Lords in _Iolanthe_, to do it very well. They were, as a family, noble, of ancient lineage, and fine stupidity. _John Orley_, the hero of the tale, starts out to follow worthily in the footsteps of his race, as a brainless but agreeable country magnate. Then comes an accident, which thwarts his physical ambitions and awakens his mental. Thereafter he essays the life of affairs--and fails all round; is defeated for Parliament, and equally worsted in the lists of Art. So, being now recovered of his hurt, he says a graceful farewell to the career intellectual and resumes the traditional _Orley_ existence. This, in brief, is his story; but I give it without the pleasant style of Mr. Straus's telling. There are many very happily touched scenes; more especially had I a guilty sympathy roused by one in which poor _John_ endeavours to concentrate his very slipshod brains upon an afternoon of hard reading. And almost all the characters are alive, from the entertaining old lady who keeps the village post-office to _Mrs. Adderson_, the naughty novelist in whose hands _John Orley_ completed his sentimental education. As for the setting, I fancy that those who have spent their summers round about St. Margaret's Bay will have little difficulty in identifying _Handsfield_. Altogether a happy book (more so than you would expect from its theme) and one that marks, as I said, the further advance of a ready and agreeable writer. * * * * * AT THE GLADIATORIAL AGENCY. [Illustration: _Manager._ "But, my dear Sir, you don't seem to have the physique for an engagement of this kind!" _Applicant._ "That's just it. You see, I've been rather run down for some time, and my doctor advised me to take a turn or two in the arena for the sake of my health."] * * * * * "By road it is vastly different: there is an 80 mile sand desert to negotiate, and hundreds of miles of rutty roads and rocky bush tracks to drive over; yet Mr. Murray Aunger, of Adelaide, averaged 38 hours per mile from capital to capital."--_Advt._ If it wasn't for the chance of being photographed we should always prefer to walk this bit. * * * * * "'I am,' he answered in rather indifferent English." _"Derby Advertiser" feuilleton_. Very indifferent, we call it. How much better if he could have answered, "Your statement of the position is not wholly unwarranted by the facts," or something snappy like that.