x is
arrived at, but one is chuckling in between every spasm.

The term "screamingly funny" has a real meaning; one reaches an almost
screaming pitch that leads to something like physical exhaustion, and
certainly causes an aching of the sides, and even tears.

Another quotation from Darwin: "During excessive laughter the whole body
is often thrown backwards and shakes, or is almost convulsed; the
respiration is much disturbed; the head and face become gorged with
blood, with the veins distorted; and the orbicular muscles are
spasmodically contracted in order to protect the eyes. Tears are freely
shed." On this one may refer to a phrase by Sir Joshua Reynolds: "It is
curious to observe, and it is certainly true, that the extremes of
contrary passions are, with very little variation, expressed by the same
action." Yet another passage from Darwin: "With Europeans hardly
anything excites laughter so easily as mimicry, and it is rather curious
to find the same fact with the savages of Australia, who constitute one
of the most distinct races in the world."

Probably the enjoyment of the spectator simply as an animal is higher,
if in a sense lower, when it comes from situations than when it is due
to dialogue. Of course there is no sharp line of demarcation. One
understands, however, why successful farce is more popular than a
successful comedy, even if afterwards the audience suffer a little from
aching sides; the ache itself causes a pleasurable memory.

Some time ago there was a popular comic picture of the awakening of a
young man who had been very drunk the night before, and was suffering
from a headache and a black eye, and clearly had had some exciting
adventures, of which his memory was faint; the simple legend attached
was, "What a ripping time I must have had last night!" One can imagine
the playgoer after the farce, rare, alas! which honestly may be called
side-splitting, saying to himself next morning, "What a ripping time I
must have had last night!" and advising all his friends to go and see
the play.

Smoking in the Auditorium

At last permission has been given, and the statement "You may smoke" can
be printed on the programmes of the theatres licensed by the L.C.C.; and
it is believed that the Lord Chamberlain is willing to follow suit.
Some of our more important managers have already announced that they
will not permit smoking in the auditorium of their playhouses, nor is
this surprising. Some of us