_The Seventh Post Card_ (GREENING) was one of a series written anonymously, as harbingers of sudden death, to motor-car drivers whose bad luck or bad management had made them run over a fellow-creature with capital consequences. Capital, also, for helping on the plot of the story; for the sudden death really did come off in such a considerable number of cases that we should have been quite justified in feeling worried when the delightful _Joanna_, driving the car belonging to her equally delightful _Jack_, was unfortunate enough to knock down a tramp; even though the immediate consequences when _Jack_ found her awakening from unconsciousness by the roadside were--well, delightful too, and such as could be expected. Indeed, the sadly-worn word "delightful" seems somehow applicable to the entire string of clues, deductions, inquests, murders and other horrid thrills, or, at any rate, to Mr. FLOWERDEW'S telling of them. Is my capability for melodramatic emotion declining, that I thread this maze of tragic mystery in a mood no more intense than that of comfortable content? Perhaps; or it may be only the soothing effect of the author's clean English, coupled with the conviction that so long as he takes care to keep _Sir Julian Daymont_--the famous novelist-detective--on their side, no serious harm can come to the people we care about most. So, although a really nasty charge of murdering his grandfather turns up against the hero just when things (but for the number of pages left) are beginning to look prosperous, I can defy you to get seriously uneasy about his future; and, sure enough, _Sir Conan_--I mean _Sir Julian_--solves the problem in convenient time to pack the lovers safely off on their honeymoon. And, really, what more could you ask for? End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch or the London Charivari, Vol. 148, February 10, 1915, by Various