The only thing that I didn't like about _Molly, My Heart's Delight_ (SMITH, ELDER) was the title. But to allow yourself to be put off by this will be to miss one of the pleasantest books of the season. What I might call true fiction has always held a peculiar charm for me. In the present work that clever writer, KATHARINE TYNAN, has been lucky and astute enough to find an ideal heroine, ready made to her hand, in the person of the charming woman who married DEAN DELANY. Upon the basis of her diaries and letters the romance has been built up, with the excellent result of a blend of art and actuality that is most engaging. _Molly_ is the gayest of creatures in her girlhood. We see her character develop gradually, tamed and half broken by her unhappy first marriage (an episode exquisitely treated, so that even the ugly side of it bears yet some precious jewels of charity and long-suffering), tried in the fire of romantic adoration, and finally reaching its appointed destiny in the comradeship with "kind, tender, faithful D.D." Lovers of diaries and memoirs, equally with those who like a graceful tale well told, will find what they want here, from the moment when its heroine goes, a girl-bride, to the romantically gloomy house of Rhoscrow, to that other moment when the placid mistress of the Deanery hears of the death of _Bellamy_, the man whom all her life she really loved. This book of _Molly_ should be a "heart's delight" to many. * * * * * "ARIZONA BILL VIOLATES TREATIES."--_New York Times._ So does Potsdam BILL. * * * * * PUNCH IN THE TRENCHES. _Mr. Punch_ drew another letter from the heap on his office-desk and opened it. _Polwheedle, Cornwall._ DEAR _Mr. Punch_,--An amusing incident happened here yesterday. I was talking to an old countryman, a great character in the village, and I happened to make some remark about the War. "What war?" asked old Jarge. "The European War," I answered in surprise. "Well," he said, "they've got a fine day for it." I thought this would interest you. Yours etc., JOHN BROWN. "Two hundred and eighteen," said _Mr. Punch_ to himself, and took the next letter from the heap. _Wortleberry, Sussex._ Mr. William Smith presents his compliments to _Mr. Punch_ and begs to send him the following dialogue which occurred in this village yesterday:-- _Myself._ "Well, what do you think of the War, Jarge?" _Jarge._ "What war?" _Myself (surprised)._ "The European War." _Jarge._ "They've got a fine day for it, anyhow." Mr. Smith thought you would like this. "Two hundred and nineteen," said _Mr. Punch_ to himself, "not counting the South African or Crimean ones." He sighed and selected a third letter. _Sporransprock, Kirkcudbrightshire._ DEAR _Mr. Punch_,--How's this? I asked a native what he thought of the War. On being told which war, he replied, "Eh, mon, ye ken, but they've got a gran'----"