There are some forty-odd bits in _A Bit at a Time_ (MILLS AND BOON), and they embrace a variety of subjects, ranging from crocuses in Kensington Gardens to corpse-boats on the Tigris. They are all, whether sentimental, satirical or pathetic, fiction of the lightest type. Such literature was eminently readable during the War--most of Mr. DION CLAYTON CALTHROP'S bits have to do with somebody's "bit"--when a touch of conventional pathos and pretended cynicism and a generous padding of humour, real or forced, provided sufficient relaxation from the strain of anxious hours. But the wisdom of republishing them in book form in these sober days of peace is open to question. When Mr. CALTHROP talks satirically of "perfect officials" or of an earnest young American aviator who writes letters home in a United States dialect that was never heard on land or sea outside Bayswater, or of the war-time adventures of one _Mr. Mason_, skipper, and _Mr. Smith_, his mate, he is tolerably amusing. When he becomes serious, as in "The Prayer of the Classical Parson" and "When the Son Came Home," his limitations become increasingly apparent. Yet it is in this vein that he gives us what is by all odds his best bit, "The Chevalier of Carnaby Row." When he writes of Cupids and fauns and Columbines and rose-leaves and the sort of young females that find this environment congenial (in books) I like Mr. CALTHROP least. Perhaps it is because the publishers have put his picture on the paper cover. He looks much too stalwart and sophisticated to be toying with such gossamer fantasies. * * * * * [Illustration: LIFE'S LITTLE ANOMALIES. HOW MANY THOUSANDS OF POUNDS HAVE BEEN OFFERED TO CARPENTER AND DEMPSEY TO FIGHT, AND NOW HERE IS A KIND OLD LADY GIVING TWO BOYS SIXPENCE EACH IF THEY'LL PROMISE _NOT_ TO.] * * * * *