Ham. God's bodykins, man, much better! Use every man after his desert, and who should scape whipping? Use them after your own honour and dignity. The less they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty. Take them in. Does it matter to you how cute a bug is — like a green caterpillar? Do you consider other factors, like whether you think it’s a helpful bug or a harmful one? It’s always a joy to receive one of the latest British Library Crime Classics releases through the post, and this clever anthology of short stories, Guilty Creatures – a Menagerie of Mysteries, is no exception to the rule. (My thanks to the publishers for kindly providing a review copy.) Included here are fourteen vintage mysteries, each featuring an animal, bird or invertebrate of some description as an integral component in the case. As Martin Edwards notes in his introduction: Second in the military crime series featuring Special Agents Scott Brodie and Magnolia "Maggie" Taylor, after The Deserter (2019). Fourteen more-or-less golden-age mystery stories, originally published between 1918 and 1967, featuring animals in a wide range of roles.

scene 2, lines 383-610 (Griner) - Genius Hamlet--Act 2, scene 2, lines 383-610 (Griner) - Genius

Do you ever think about your Olympian-like power, as the author of this article does, when smushing a bug? Does it make you think twice? This was rather a stolid bunch with nothing very outstanding but nothing too awful either. It was just... middling. Ham. It shall to the barber's, with your beard.- Prithee say on. He's for a jig or a tale of bawdry, or he sleeps. Say on; come to Hecuba.This is a proper police procedural, with the entire family being introduced before dinner. Then a death occurs, and there are more suspects than the investigating officer (who was also present at the scene) would care for. the possibilities keep changing, to the point that I almost saw the ending coming, but the author sifted through all possibilities anyway so my guess had to be there somewhere!(4 stars)

Guilty Creatures: A Menagerie of Mysteries, ed. by Martin

This is another worthy anthology in a long-running collection of well- and lesser-known classics from the British crime fiction of yesteryear. These 14 stories, originally published between 1892 and 1967 are taken from the oeuvre of luminaries like Sir Arthur Conan-Doyle (The Lion's Mane), and G.K. Chesterton (The Oracle of the Dog) and others, possibly not as well known to most readers. All of the authors were previously familiar to me, but several of the stories included here were new to me in any form. It's a well rounded collection and all but the most stalwart and well read connoisseur will find stories they've never read. I was so pleasantly surprised by this anthology. To be honest, I usually favor full-length novels over short story collections, but I had a great time reading this. There was so much variety in tone and style, so it never felt redundant or repetitive. The story introductions by editor Martin Edwards also gave some great insight into each of the writers and their careers—thanks to this, my TBR list just got even longer! A not-so-honest man is at the centre of the plot. This makes the ultimate resolution a little harder to stomach. The mystery itself was interesting enough for me to keep reading. Unresolved death and bets are the clues that have one man setting a trap. What happens after forms the bulk of the narrative (3 stars) There's a Dr Fortune story and he's less annoying than he is sometimes. It's a grim tale of how people caught in poverty and powerlessness are easy prey for religious charlatans. To his credit, Dr Fortune's concern is for the two small children involved. He's not sentimental, but he's not ready to believe that a young boy would kill his tiny sister so that they can go to heaven. As he always does, he uses his wide base of knowledge to figure out who murdered whom and why.

Ham. I heard thee speak me a speech once, but it was never acted; or if it was, not above once; for the play, I remember, pleas'd not the million, 'twas caviary to the general; but it was (as I receiv'd it, and others, whose judgments in such matters cried in the top of mine) an excellent play, well digested in the scenes, set down with as much modesty as cunning. I remember one said there were no sallets in the lines to make the matter savoury, nor no matter in the phrase that might indict the author of affectation; but call'd it an honest method, as wholesome as sweet, and by very much more handsome than fine. One speech in't I chiefly lov'd. 'Twas Aeneas' tale to Dido, and thereabout of it especially where he speaks of Priam's slaughter. If it live in your memory, begin at this line- let me see, let me see: in the wrong place at the wrong moment, while the guy next to him is miraculously spared for no reason at all. As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods. Ham. We'll ha't to-morrow night. You could, for a need, study a speech of some dozen or sixteen lines which I would set down and insert in't, could you not?