Mr. VICTOR BRIDGES has a very versatile pen and in most of the twenty-one pieces of _Jetsam_ (MILLS AND BOON) which he has recovered from the waves of monthly magazines and elsewhere there is a certain amount of material for mirth. I do not however find him a startlingly original humorist, whether on the river Thames, where he seems to follow in the wake of Mr. JEROME K. JEROME, or in a Chelsea "pub," where his manners are reminiscent of the characters of Messrs. W. W. JACOBS and MORTON HOWARD. Again, in the story called "The First Marathon" (where, by the way, he states that "It is true that the word 'Marathon' was first used in connection with the old Olympian games," which seems a little unfair to MILTIADES), the fun mainly depends on the use of such phrases as "Spoo-fer," "King Kod," and the "Can't-stik-you-shun-all Club." Other stories are of the adventurous or romantic type sacred to serial fiction, no fewer than three dealing with escaped convicts on Dartmoor, and one (the first in the book) describing the chance meeting of a man and a pretty girl on an uninhabited island off the West Coast of Scotland. Here, for some reason or other, the man insisted on calling his charming and unknown companion _Astarte_, a name which, if I had been in her place, I should have been inclined to resent. But Mr. BRIDGES' dialogue is nearly always bright, and his knowledge of the machinery of yarn-spinning excellent. There is just one other point however which I should like to mention. The book includes a brand-new Russian wolf-story, in which the heroes protect themselves from the bites of these ferocious quadrupeds by putting on armour, which they find in a deserted house. I don't object to that; but, when they leave the railway line along which they have been travelling and plunge into a forest-path they come to a place where the route forks and cannot make out which of the two roads will be more likely to lead them back to the railway. I do not feel that these men were the sort of people to be trusted to wander by themselves in a desolate Siberian anecdote. * * * * * [Illustration: THE CADDIE WHO SAW THE FAIRIES.] * * * * * Our New Masters. _The KING can do no wrong._ Of late So ran the law; but, when to-day Kinglike he seeks to serve the State, Our super-monarchs frown and say: _The KING can do no right--unless By leave of half the Liberal Press._ * * * * * The Light-weight Angler. "Weighing 6 lbs. 7 oz., Mr. T. Snelgrove caught a golden carp whilst fishing in the mill pond at Addlestone, Surrey."--_People._ * * * * * "He has slept ... nearly 365 days on board the Admiralty yacht." This, from a _Daily Mail_ article in praise of WINSTON, is no doubt meant kindly. * * * * *