IVAN CARYLL, who conducted (and was probably
thinking more of his own pleasant music than somebody else's words),
did not make enough allowance for my slowness in the up-take of
patter.
Mr. LESLIE HENSON was funny, and should be funnier still when the book
has been cut down by about an hour and space allowed him for private
developments. Miss PHYLLIS DARE was graceful and confident. One easily
understood her popularity; but Miss YVONNE ARNAUD, who was a little
slow for the general pace, must, I think, be more of an acquired
taste.
Mr. TOM WALLS (very svelte in his French uniform) did sound work, and
so did Mr. GEORGE BARRETT, a humourist by gift of nature. Mr. GEORGE
GROSSMITH, who with Mr. LAURILLARD has made out of the old Middlesex
a most attractive and spacious "Winter Garden," brought with him the
traditions of the Gaiety, and had a warm personal welcome. I could
bear him to be funnier than he was; but as I'm sure that he's clever
enough to be anything he likes I can only assume that he wasn't really
trying.
I join everybody in wishing him good cheer in this "garden" of his,
where, if the auguries fulfil themselves, he is not likely, even in
the dog-days, to have to endure "the winter of our discontent."
O. S.
* * * * *
THE LAND OF MY DREAMS
I know a spot where balmy air and still
Enfolds the placid dweller hour by hour
As, all unhampered in his tranquil bower,
He stretches idle limbs at ease until
The blessed peace about him calms his will
And hidden thoughts, expanding into flower,
Amaze him with their beauty, and the sour
Sharp voice of Care, that sounds far off and shrill,
Moves him to gentle mirth that men can be
So strangely foolish as to heed her call,
Regardless of their true felicity.
Pages:
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53