Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1929-07-16
NEW BOOKS
AT RANDOM
I. G. M.
I. G. M.
BETWEEN HEAVEN AND CEARING
CROSS. Martin Burrell. The Mac

I. G. M.
BETWEEN HEAVEN AND CHARING
CROSS. Martin Burrell. The Mac
milan Co.
Quite stretch of country Mr.. Bur-
rell allows himself here for Summer
runway Of pleasure among writer's and
grounds, such wide land of literature
appears to be to this man who Is pri-
marily preoccupied with business and
politics. Time, however, for all Of us to
do the thing most deeply desired. So 1t
is in this case. Therefore, between
Heaven and Charing Cross" Mr.. Bur-
rell moves easily about, selecting here
and there as the mood calls. This is
not the critic In the technician's sense Of
grilling scrutiny and analysis, Of set ap-
praisal and classification, Of ultimate
and unalterable judgments. This Is not
the schoolman, rigid In respect to the
sequences of periods" and schools"
and the other dreary whatnot Of cssi-
ned learning. Just an intelligent and
interesting man of wide reading who
sits down to talk awhile on the subject
that he knows and loves. He talks
about John Milton, quite as II the man
were OF the company, paying high
tribute to his genius, genius that holds
6A~SS @OA oAAV "a CoCAAU, 90 WCh 90 All tAAC
past. Then In a long step forward ne
reaches another English poet, Thomas
Hardy, more poet than novelist accord
ing to Hardy's Self-appraisal, according
to the judgment of his time as we'll.
Then John Masefield comes into the
friendly accounting Of Mr.. Burrell, who
pays fair homage to the Masefield muse.
Most interesting is the analysis of
Emil Ludwig's Napoleon" Upon the
whole this estimate is unfavorable, rea-
Sonably and plauSibly unfavorable, The
basic flaw in the study rests, according
TO this writer, on the German authors
inability to shed the influence of his
own nativity, to efface his own blood
urgencies. for the sake Of taking on the
state OF pure dtspassion that must stand
as the prime equipment of the truly
useful historian and biographer. You
VIII be deeply interested in this particu-
lar discussion for the reason that the
superficial splendor of Ludwig's bio
graphic method and manner has had a
tendency to shut off any criticism what
ever, has had the effect of unouestion-
ing acceptance on the part of the public
generally. You may not agree with Mr..
6urrell IN this respect, but his estimate
VII! nevertheless stir your thinking
ana that's one of the good things that
now and then does happen to lis
throughout this waywise and compan-
lonaole book you will have the enjoy
ment OF seasoned opinions on MANY
matters. opinions rooted largely in
active experience, rooted partly in ia
mliiar intercourse with books and their
authors.
TALES OF THE PAMPAs. VII. Hud-
son. Alfred A. Knopf
Another one of "Borzoi Pocket Books"
which slips into the hand or into the
pocket-a piece Of real literature, recog-
nlzed and acclaimed as such. Too
much cannot be said, really, in praise
OF the enterprise which is making
and hand readiness, the best of all
literature. The work of w. H. Hudson
clearly belongs in such good company.
NO one surpasses this writer In seizure
OF nature, its beauty and its manifold
generations into the spirit Of him who
truly loves it. This particular Hudson
volume IS made up Of tales of the South
american plains. Tales Of the particu-
lar brand of humans trying to make a
go OF life in that region. Here are the
cowboy and the rancher, the outlaw
and the bad man'-pretty much like
the rest Of us, save for the outer skin
OF another climate and daily habit and
Tar strain OF blood. 1t is, however, with
the wide lands themselves that w. H.
Hudson works his own magic of pic
ture making with words. One Of these
tales has had the distinction Of high
praise by no less a judge of literature
than Theodore Roosevelt himself You
may agree that "El Ombu" Is the fin
est story in the English language. You
may not. But you'll wish to read it.
Having dny1n $Iric will o.
the reading Of six other surprising
stories Of the Pampas by w. H. Hudson.
y X X X
SKIPPY. Percy Crosby. G. P. Put
MANS Sons.
Skippy is boy So is Percy Crosby.
That is the whole story. If one boy
doesn't know the other one-why, who
does know him? And If along with
such knowledge there runs the knack
OF laSSoing words into companies Of
of just about nothing at all-why, then,
the rest of us can join in with these
two who seem to be having about all
the fun there Is in this gay old world
Of ours. The story of Skippy jumps
right into the middle of things, as any
proper story should. The Gangs the
thing. The business begins with it, and
ends with it. Not the same gang, to be
sure, for time is merciless with boys as
we'll as with the rest of us. But the
new gang is tnstantaneously "a going
concern as we leave Skippy. the oracle,
proclaiming, well. we'll have to get a
new bunch together an Wen call it
The Gas House Gang and I'll be the
captain" OF course! Who else!
A boy-and why say more? Nothin'
like 'em-and Skippy Is all Of them.
You recall him, how he first came out
as comic strip" growing steadily
from such post of honor into the
laughing approval of everybody. Two
hands, that Mr.. Crosby has-with one
he makes the pictures Of Skippy and
And legends they are, fairy tales, myths
and wonders, besides. For this is the
most versatile, the most inspired, the
most surprising, the most adorable OF
creations-The Boy! Lord love him!
X X X X
THE MASKED MAN. CASTOR Leroux.
The Macaulay Co.
By way of a good husbandry the
mystery tale ripens Just in time for the
Summer idler. At the moment the mar
ket is flooded with this particular
produce. Good business, evidently, for
the porch dwellers and hammock rid
ers appear to have in hand nothing but
some hectic record of mystery rising
out of crime of one degree or another.
Even the press blackens its front page
with such errancies as the Summer
time is assumed to breed in the hot
blood of the human. In a dark corner
of the mountainous Southeast OF France
stood a gloomy inn, "Red Riding HOOD
Inn" Here 1t is, and In the twilight
country roundabout, that the dark do
ings of this adventure took place: The
innkeeper was a dour and forbidding