' batons hanging up in the cloak-room,
know them no more."--_Daily Paper._

Nowadays the German Field-Marshal takes his baton into the dining-room
to stir his soup.

* * * * *

AT THE PLAY.

"WILL YOU KISS ME?"

Even before the era of Prohibition (there were cocktails in this play)
strange things must have happened in "God's own country" under the
banner of the Bird of Freedom. But never so strange as the effects you
get on the stage when very English people play at being Americans. You
have to be rather young and unsophisticated if such phrases as "He's
putting it over on us," or "I'm not going to stand for that," generously
peppered about the dialogue and recited in the purest of English
accents, can persuade you to believe that you are getting the real
local stuff. At the same time you accept cheerfully the most farcical
conditions on the vague assumption that all things may be possible over
there.

So, when _John W. Brook_, of Fifth Avenue, millionaire, engaged the
services of _Alexander Y. Hedge_, plenipotentiary representative of an
Efficiency Company, to introduce economic reforms into his motherless
household during his temporary absence, we regarded it as a most
reasonable experiment. And for a time it made excellent fun. But after
a while it began to wear thin for lack of fresh stimulus, and by the
end of the Second Act there was a general feeling in the audience that
something would have to be done about it.

The same thought seems to have occurred to Mr. CYRIL HARCOURT, the
author, and he started, a little late in the day, to introduce an
element of sex-romance into what so far had been an absolutely bloodless
proposition. But at first it was with sinister intent that _Brook's_
elder daughter made advances to _Alexander Y. Hedge_. As soon as she
could induce this monster of inhumanity to become a prey to her charm
she would repulse him with scorn, and then he would have to go.

The children's allowances having been cut off on the ground that
they did nothing to earn them, she offered her services as his paid
secretary. "Propinquity" did its work and she was soon in a position
to offer him the privilege of an experimental kiss, thus incidentally
justifying the dreadful title of the play.

The first, delivered on the cheek, was a wash-out; but the second,
pressed home on the lips, had the desired effect. Then she turned and
rent him, telling him exactly what she t