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with spritely dapper elves, fairies who dance with daintiest grace and blithe spirits who protect with supernatural kindness the unapproachable golden haired Rackham children—types which have taken their place beside the sweet creations of Kate Greenaway, the spirited young people of Caldecott, and the little Orientals of Houghton himself. Indeed, this uncommonly persuasive invention of a new type of child is Mr. Frederick Wedmore’s explanation of Rackham’s universal popularity. As we turn the pages of these fascinating books and come upon such adorable young people as those who encircle the singing poet Swinburne, the sleeping baby in “Almost fairy time” (A Midsummer Night’s Dream), the three wistful daughters of Hesperus who adorn the frontispiece to Comus, or the popular heroes and heroines of Barrie’s Peter Pan,—we come to the conclusion that the human heart can yearn for nothing more lovable, and even a Perugino bambino is not more free from every element of guile than these boys and girls of Arthur Rackham. Their innocent gestures, rendered with unusual tenderness, and their happy festivities amid scenes of pastoral loveliness, the riotous play of Puck and his impish friends, the dances of radiant beings without substance,
