_Nutshell Novels_, by that crack writer--no, not "crack'd"--and poet, whose verses send a frill right through us, Mr. J. ASHBY-STERRY, are coming out. Capital title. As SHAKSPEARE says, "Sermons in stones, novels in nutshells, and good in everything." SHELLEY'S poems might be brought out in pocketable form under a similar title, _Nut-Shelley Poems._ I have not yet seen the volume in question, only heard tell of it, and should not be surprised to hear that the central novel and the best was a short military novel, entitled _The Kernel_. Messrs. HUTCHINSON & Co. are the publishers. I hope Mr. STERRY has illustrated them himself. He can draw and paint, but he won't, and there's an end on't. He must follow up the _Nutshells_ with a volume of _Crackers_, about Christmas time. Just been looking through _London Street Arabs_, by Mrs. H.M. STANLEY, published by CASSELL & Co., which firm--whose telegraphic address is "Caspeg, London," and a good name too--writes to the Baron thus:--"_In forwarding you an early copy_"--small and early--"_of Mrs. Stanley's book, we will ask you to be good enough_"--("I am 'good enough'" quoth the Baron)--"to _confine your extracts from the Introduction to an extent not exceeding one-third of the whole_." "Willingly, my dear 'Caspeg,'" replies the Baron, who does not like being dictated to, and, to gratify your wish to the utmost, he will make no extracts at all from the book, a proceeding which ought mightily to delight "Caspeg, London." What next? Will publishers send to the Baron, and request him not even to breathe the names of their books? By all means. He has no objection, as, whether sent to him for review, or purchased by him _pour se distraire_, the Baron only mentions those he likes, or, if he mentions those he dislikes, 'tis _pro bono publico_, and there's an end on't. Mrs. STANLEY appreciates humour, as the following anecdote will show--But, dear me, the Baron is forgetful--he begs "Caspeg's" pardon; he mustn't quote. Mrs. STANLEY can be truly sympathetic with sorrow, as the following story proves--no, "Caspeg," the story must _not_ follow. Never mind--the Baron's dear readers will read it for themselves if they feel "so dispoged." The Baron supposes that all this was written and drawn while Mrs. STANLEY was Miss DOROTHY TENNANT, because her recorded opinion, probably, as a spinster, is (and here the Baron "quotes" not, but "alludes"), that you can find better artistic material in this line at home, than you can obtain by seeking it abroad; yet when she married, off she went to Milan, Venice, and so forth. For pleasure, of course, not work; but work to her is evidently pleasure. May happiness have accompanied her everywhere! The drawings are pretty, rather of the goody-good "Sunday-at-home-readings" kind of illustrations. And what on earth has a sort of pictorial advertisement for "Somebody's Soap" got to do with Street Arabs? "_Washed Ashore; or, Happy At Last_," might be the title