MR. OWEN SEAMAN'S NEW VOLUME OF VERSES.
A Harvest of Chaff. By Owen Seaman. (A. Constable and Co. 3s. 6d. net.)—These verses, with the exception of one of the few serious pieces, have appeared in Punch. Readers who have seen them there will be glad to know that they have been reprinted. To praise them is superfluous. Humorous verse is produced in this country of excellent quality and in abundant quantity. At present, at least, it seems to be written with more success than humorous prose. But no one, we think, quite comes up to Mr. Seaman. He is the authentic successor of Charles Stuart Calverley. This volume is fully up to the best of its predecessors. Whether the fun or the ingenuity—the fun of the original verse or the ingenuity of the parodies—is the more to be admired we cannot say. As to examples, the difficulty is to choose. Here is part of a piece which has the additional merit of opportunity. It is from " Reflections on the Education Bill Debates":— "Dear human child, whose woolly head Closely recalls the unweaned lamb ; You with the lips whose native red Is stained with inexpensive jam ; ***** " • I fondly hope you never dream That your prospective moral state Still constitutes the steady theme Of loud and bellicose debate. It lies, I trust, outside your ken,
That nightly till the senses reel, Six hundred heated Christian men Wrestle for your immortal weal.
I wonder, should you come to know
The facts about this deadly feud, Whether your little heart would go And burst with speechless gratitude.
Or rather, being made aware
What means they used to reach their ends,. You would compose a tiny prayer
To be delivered from your friends; And crave permission from the star That on your recent advent smiled Just to continue what you are,— A simple, bounding heathen child."
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