incorrigible amorist, for whom each new girl is "the only girl," and who
has an apparently inexhaustible supply of identity-discs to leave with
them as "sooveneers"; and by Mr. SINCLAIR COTTER as _Alf_, the cynical
humourist--"Where were you eddicated, Eton or Harrod's?" is one of his
best _mots_--who spends most of his time in wrestling with an automatic
cigar-lighter. I think it would be only poetical justice if in the
concluding scene, when _Old Bill_ comes into his own, the authors were
for once to allow _Alf_ to succeed in lighting his "fag."

Of the many ladies who add charm to the entertainment I can only mention
Miss EDMEE DORMEUIL, who as _Victoire_ has an important share in the
plot and saves _Old Bill's_ life; Miss GOODIE REEVE, who sings some
capital songs; and Miss PEGGY DORAN, who looks bewitching as an officer
of the Woman Workers' Corps. The music, arranged by Mr. HERMAN DAREWSKI,
is catchy and not uncomfortably original: and the scenery, designed by
Captain BAIRNSFATHER, gives one, I should say, as good an idea of the
trenches as one can get without going there. In fine I would parody _Old
Bill_ and say, "If you knows of a better show, go to it!"

L.

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Perfect stranger (to Jones, who has not forgotten
Willie's birthday)._ "AIN'T YOU ASHAMED TO GO BATTING THESE DAYS?"]

* * * * *

[Illustration: "NAH, ALL THEM AS IS WILLIN' TO COME ALONG O' ME, PLEASE
SIGNIFY THE SAME IN THE USUAL MANNER. CARRIED UNANIMOUSLY."]

* * * * *

TO A MODERN MUSE.

O Metaphasia, peerless maid,
How can I fitly sing
The priceless decorative aid
To dialogue you bring,
Enabling serious folk, whose brains
Are commonplace and crude,
To soar to unimagined planes
Of sweet ineptitude.

Changed by your magic, common-sense
Nonsensical appears,
And stars of sober influence
Shoot madly from their spheres.
You lure us from the beaten track,
From minding P.'s and Q.'s,
To paths where white is always black
And pies resemble pews.

Strange beasts, more strange than the giraffe,
You conjure up to view,
The flue-box and the forking-calf,
Unknown at any Zoo;
And new vocations you unfold,
Wonder on wonder heaping,
Hell-banging for the over-bold,
And toffee-cavern keeping.

With you we hatch the pasty snipe,
And all undaunted face