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Mr. W.Senior ("Red Spinner"), who es-<*> tablished the Queensland "Hansard," is a contributor to Mr. F.G. Afialo's book, "Fishes of Our Seas."

" Marie Coreili : the Writer and the Woman !" by T. F. O. Coates and R. E. 'Warren-Bell, is published by Messrs. Hutchinson and Co. 'Mr. Rider Haggard's " Rural England r Being an Account of Agricultural and Social Researches, carried out in the years 1901 and 1902." oho wo how excellent a conception the brilliant novelist has n: agriculture. Hs is described by his put?- Usher? as " Author of 'A Farmer* Year.' " Nothing about " She" or " Jess" or otaer of his familiar books. A revised and cheaper edition of Win* Bton Spencer Churchill's edition is edited by Colonel F. Rhodes, D.S.O. Mr. Saville Kent, F.L.S., F.Z.S., v/ritten a book on " Lizards : Living and Extinct," which has been Issued by Hutchinson and Co. The late G. A. Hcnty left a book to be published which will be welcomed by boy hood generally. It is " With Kitchener in the Soudan : A Story of Atbara and Om? durman." " The Wizard's Light," by Silas Hocking. Is said to be one of the best books written by that popular author and fine storyteller. Stofford A. "Brooke writes of Bro,wnlna and the contemplation of his crying in th* wilderness thus :—" Browning dH not heed the unheeding of the wcrld. He had the courage of his aims in art, and while ho frequently shaped in his verEe the vigor ous movement of life, even to its moments of fierce activity, he went on quietly, amid the silence of the world, to paint also the slowly interwoven and complex pattern of the inner life of man. He was lmj>r«s? slonlst long before Impressionism arrived. When it arrived he was found out. And he stood alone, for Tennyson is never im pressionist, and never could have been. Neither wos Swinburne, nor Arnold, nor Morris, nor Rosaettl." A clever sketclt by John Oliver Hobbes: '• Mrs. Romilly was tall and gaunt. She always looked cold, and her skin seemeJ Btretched too tightly over the bridge of her nose. Habitually she wore a short serge skirt, a black silk blouse, a stiff collar, and an emerald and pearl brooch which Queen Victoria had given to her mtother-in-law\ the late Mrs. Adolphut Romilly, daughter of Lord Breochmore." An English paper, commenting on the wearing of gew-gaws by men, says that it took all Robert Louis Stevenson's extra ordinary charm to gloss over the fac: that he used to frequent the Savilc Club in hl3 wife's sealskin capo, fasttued with a gold Broocli ; nor has his reputation quite re covered from the knowledge of this fact among his admirers. Mr. Frank Norrls, the young American author, whose " M'Teague" was a clever work, died recently at the age of*32 years.

raid, and was a prisoner at Pretoria tor some time. Mr?. Browning always regarded " Aurora Leigh" as her beat novel. " M. C. 8.," in " The Queen," Is rather satirical in a review of Louise Macks (Mrs. Creed's) "An Australian Giri in London." In the first place the reviewer says, " London as seen from a cosmopoli tan boarding-house in Bloomsbury by an Australian girl must be a weird vision." .Also, " She is pleased to approve of Lon don and its atmosphere, also of some other little matters which they really do not seem to manage 'better in Australia. We must be grateful for her meed of apprecia tion," and so on. There are probably many people wUo nave never heard of Dr. Parker as a novel ist. Yet at least one work of fiction pro ceeded from his pen—" Wilmot's Child," a little story which Mr. Fl?her Unwln pub lished in 1895. Its author's identity was at first concealed under the pseudonym of " Atey Nyne, Student and Bachelor," but Dr. Parker soon acknowledged his off spring. Mr. Stanley Paul, of Hutchinson and Co., the well-known publishers, is on a visit to his cousin, Mr. Wm, Chri?ty, of Baila rat. Mr. Paul was the recipient of a com plimentary dinner given by a large number of his confreres at Anderton*s Hotel, Lou don, on the occasion of his departure on hi? journey through Australasian and South Africa. Of Mr. J. M. Barrio's " Little White Bird," Mr. Dougla? Sladen (affectionately •remembered by Queenslanders) says :— "The 'Little White Bird' is quite likely to enjoy the greatest popularity of all Mr. Barries books. It has no drags, which were the blemish of ' The Little Minister'; it does not offend English senti ment, like that otherwise exquisite book, .'Margaret Ogllvy'; its improbabilities are less than those of 'Tommy and Grlzel,' or at any rate its improbabilities belong to a class to which we give currency ; and It is a higher flight than ' Sentimental Tommy.' * Sir Francis Burnand's reminiscences will be published in two volumes this year. Mr. Jerome K. Jerome bad, at latest London dates, left England for Switzerland for the winter. In " Our Literary Deluge, and Some of its Deeper Waters," Francis Whiting Halsey says :—" Books as they come from the press are in fact fast becoming what many newspapers and magazines have been —publications whose term of life is ephemeral. They exist as the favourites of a month, or possibly a year ; then, having had their brief summer-time of success, they silently go their destined way. Oblivion overwhelms them. Not 10 per cent of any one year's books can hope to linger a year after their publication in the popular memory even as names." " The Literary World" finds Mr. E. B. Kennedy's " The Black Police of Queens land" a book worthy of a notice extending over more than two columns of lt? space. Of Mr. Andrew Lang's " The Dls «atanglers" (a series of stories of ad venlure) the " Literary World" says :— " Altogether, we confess to having read these episodes with some pleasure, al though at times Mr. Lang is a little tedious, especially in his conversations. That he is clever there is so denying, but why will he say 'averse to,' and that not once but twice within a few pages ? We expect this in Journalese, but not in Mr. Lang's classic pages." The most Interesting recent literary event (says a London paper) has been the appearance of " T.P.s Weekly." It ia edited, of course, by Mr. T. P. O'Connor, and Is an entirely original departure. It is, in fact, a paper of literary society run on the lines of the most prominent and interesting society papers. It revives the interest in- the personality of authors characteristic of the evening and weekly papers ten years ago, and the authors upon whom Mr. O'Connor mostly discourses are the greatest and most interesting. A SHAKSPKABIAN SONNET : Like as tic waves make towards rhc pebbled sno c, So do our minutes hasten-to their end ; Each changing place with tliut which go.s teiore, In sequent toil all forwards do comenJ. Nativity once in the main of light. Crawls to maturity, whtv* with being trown d, Crooked eclipses 'gainst his gl'ry fight, And'time, that gave, doth now 1 is ki.t confound. Time doth tiansflx th\> flou.i h. set en And delves the parallels in beauty's brow ; Feeds on the rarities of Nature's truth, And nothing stands but for his scjtlie to mow ; And yet to timei in hope my \er-:e 'hall it nd, Trailing thy worth, d.fp'te his mcl '.land.