Nor, apparently, in journalistic Latin. * * * * * "Reward.--Bedroom taken Tuesday, 27th, between Holborn and Woburn-place. A basket and umbrella left."--_Daily Paper._ We compliment the victim of this theft on his courtesy in calling the thieves' attention to their oversight. * * * * * [Illustration: _Exhausted War Profiteer._ "DEER FORESTS FOR THE 'IDLE RICH' BE BLOWED! THE 'NEW POOR' CAN 'AVE 'EM FOR ME."] * * * * * OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. (_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks._) The long-promised _Herbert Beerbohm Tree_ (HUTCHINSON), than which I have expected no book with more impatience, turns out to be a volume full of lively interest, though rather an experiment in snap-shot portraiture from various angles than a full-dress biography. Mr. MAX BEERBOHM has arranged the book, himself contributing a short memoir of his brother, which, together with what Lady TREE aptly calls her _Reverie_, fills some two-thirds of it with the more intimate view of the subject, the rest being supplied by the outside appreciations of friends and colleagues. If I were to sum up my impression of the resulting picture it would be in the word "happiness." Not without reason did the TREES name a daughter FELICITY. Here was a life spent in precisely the kind of success that held most delight for the victor--honour, love, obedience, troops of friends; all that _Macbeth_ missed his exponent enjoyed in flowing measure. Perhaps TREE was never a great actor, because he found existence too "full of a number of things"; if so he was something considerably jollier, the enthusiastic, often inspired amateur, approaching each new part with the zest of a brief but brilliant enthusiasm. I suppose no popular favourite ever had his name associated with more good stories and wit, original and vicarious. Despite some entertaining extracts from his commonplace book I doubt if this side of him is quite worthily represented; at least nothing here quoted beats Lady TREE'S own _mot_ for a mendacious newspaper poster--_Canard à la Press_. Possibly we are still to look for a more official volume of reference; meantime the present memoir gives a vastly readable sketch of one whose passing left a void perhaps unexpectedly hard to fill. * * * * *