=Globe.=—“It has at the basis of it both knowledge and enthusiasm—knowledge of the works estimated and enthusiasm for them. This book may be accepted as a generous exposition of Mr Kipling’s merits as a writer. We can well believe that it will have many interested and approving readers.”
=Scotsman.=—“This well-informed volume is plainly sincere. It is thoroughly well studied, and takes pains to answer all the questions that are usually put about Mr Kipling. The writer’s enthusiasm carries both himself and his reader along in the most agreeable style. One way and another his book is full of interest, and those who wish to talk about Kipling will find it invaluable, while the thousands of his admirers will read it through with delighted enthusiasm.”
_=Richard Le Gallienne.=_ By C. RANGER GULL.
_=Arthur Wing Pinero.=_ By HAMILTON FYFFE.
_=W. E. Henley=_, and the “NATIONAL OBSERVER” Group. By GEORGE GAMBLE.
_=The Parnassian School in English=_ POETRY. (ANDREW LANG, EDMUND GOSSE and ROBERT BRIDGES.) By Sir GEORGE DOUGLAS.
_=Algernon Charles Swinburne.=_ By G. F. MONKSHOOD.
_=Realistic Writers of To-day.=_ By JUSTIN HANNAFORD.
_=The Wheel of Life.=_ A Few Memories and Recollections (de omnibus rebus). By CLEMENT SCOTT, Author of “Madonna Mia,” “Poppyland,” etc. With Portrait of the Author from the celebrated Painting by J. MORDECAI. Third Edition. Crown 8vo, crimson buckram, gilt lettered, gilt top, 2s.
=Weekly Sun= (T. P. O’Connor) says:—A Book of the Week—“I have found this slight and unpretentious little volume bright, interesting reading. I have read nearly every line with pleasure.”
=Illustrated London News.=—“The story Mr Scott has to tell is full of varied interest, and is presented with warmth and buoyancy.”
=Punch.=—“What pleasant memories does not Clement Scott’s little book, ‘The Wheel of Life,’ revive! The writer’s memory is good, his style easy, and above all, which is a great thing for reminiscences, chatty.”
=Referee.=—GEORGE R. SIMS (Dagonet) says:—Deeply interesting are these last memories and recollections of the last days of Bohemia. . . . I picked up ‘The Wheel of Life’ at one in the morning, after a hard night’s work, and flung myself, weary and worn, into an easy-chair, to glance at it while I smoked my last pipe. As I read, all my weariness departed, for I was young and light-hearted once again, and the friends of my young manhood had come trooping back from the shadows to make a merry night of it once more in London town. And when I put the book down, having read it from cover to cover, it was ‘past three o’clock and a windy morning.’”