_Gentlemen at Arms_, by “_Centurion_” (Doubleday, Page & Co.). This volume stands out as a distinguished record from the host of personal experiences which the war has produced. I think it quite the best of the English collection, and a volume which the earlier Kipling might have been proud to sign. There is a poignancy about these studies which is relieved by a well-considered art. _Under the Hermes_, by “_Richard Dehan_” (Dodd, Mead & Company). This book is written solely with the worthy object of entertaining the reader. Five or six years ago, I remember steaming down the Labrador in a decrepit little boat called, rather magnificently, the _Stella Maris_ (and fisherman’s rumor had it that Lady Morris was so honored by the christening), and my only companion for a week in the stuffy cabin was an independent fur trader on his way to his winter post near Nain. His baggage consisted of two crates of jam and two volumes by “Richard Dehan,” and I remember how we banished sleep for several nights and days by reading them to each other, and then beginning all over again. If I knew where Richard White was now, I would send him a copy of “Under the Hermes” to see if the old magic still lingered. It is a collection of good stories imaginatively told. _Tales of War_, by _Lord Dunsany_ (Little, Brown & Company). This volume is a series of sketches and essays dealing with Lord Dunsany’s experiences in the Great War, but it contains one of his best short stories,—“The Prayer of the Men of Daleswood,”—and several fine imaginative fables. _Five Tales_, by _John Galsworthy_ (Charles Scribner’s Sons). This collection of short stories and novelettes should be set on the book shelf beside “The Dark Flower” as one of Galsworthy’s two most signal contributions to the poetic interpretation of life. It is not too much to say that this volume takes its place in the great English line. _The Quest of the Face_, by _Stephen Graham_ (The Macmillan Company). This volume does not represent the author at his best, but the passionate mysticism which Mr. Graham has voiced so nobly in his Russian books still flames through these pages, and there are several sketches in the volume which I should have felt sorry to have missed. _Children of the Dear Cotswolds_, by _L. Allen Harker_ (Charles Scribner’s Sons). These quiet pastoral studies, to be fully enjoyed, should be read aloud slowly by the winter fire, and I think the reader will agree with me that they are a very delicate series of studies in place. Mrs. Harker’s readers have a freemasonry of their own to which the password is a love for England and its forgotten Cotswold places.