An imaginative title for a diary of the year rounding out the three score years and ten, but- quite honestly- that is the only imaginative thing about this pedestrian performance. Morris Ernst is one of America's eminent lawyers. What goes on inside his mind would be of considerable interest to many who have been aware of the odd contradictions in his professional career -- now on the side of liberalism, now of a dictator of questionable intent towards his country. But there is not the slightest hint in this volume of what is behind his thinking. He merely tells what he saw, what he read, whom he met, where he ate, and a little bit about boats. The diary isn't even good talk. The style is flat and colorless -- as are the daily events he records. When he confesses in a Preface that the original diary would have made a volume of 600 pages and the editor suggested a cut, it occurs to this reader that perhaps he cut out the heart of the matter. 90% of the diary may be of interest to his immediate family. The balance would be of only casual interest to anyone, and none of it would seem destined to interest strangers. Of all Morris Ernst's seventy years, this seventieth would seem to be the most uninteresting.