After his training in England "NIGHT HAWK" was attached as an
observer to a night-flying squadron in France, and he tells us of
his adventures with no sense of self-importance but with an honest
appreciation of their value to the general scheme of operations. He
has also a keen eye for the humours of life, and can make his jest
with most admirable brevity. "Doubtless," he says in a foreword, "the
whole world will fly before many years have passed, but for the moment
most people have to be content to read about it." I am one of them,
and he has added to my contentment.
* * * * *
My studies of recent fiction induce the belief that modern Wales
may be divided into two parts, in one of which the inhabitants call
each other _Bach_ and follow a code of morals that I simply will not
stoop to characterise; while the other is at once more Saxon in idiom
and considerably more melodramatic in its happenings. It is to the
latter province that I must assign _A Little Welsh Girl_ (HODDER AND
STOUGHTON), the Romance, with a big R, of _Dylis Morgan_, who pushed
an unappreciated suitor over a precipice and came to London to make
her fortune in revue. Really the suitor didn't go all the way down
the precipice; but as, by the time he recovered, _Dylis_, disguised,
had fled for England, he was promptly arrested for her murder, and
as _Dylis_ thought she had murdered him there was presently so much
confusion (increased for me by the hopelessly unpronounceable names
of a large cast) that I found it increasingly hard to keep the affair
in hand.
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