e same exit speech on two occasions. _Nils Krogstad_
does this. He can think of nothing better than, "If I am flung into
the gutter, you shall accompany me," repeated twice with the slight
variation, "If I am flung into the gutter for the second time, you
shall accompany me," used for the last exit. Again, _Torvald Helmer_
has a long monologue in the final Act that a practised playwright
would have "broken up" with the assistance of a portrait, or a letter,
or something. From this it would appear that the Editor, WILLIAM
ARCHER (without the "Mr.") has very faithfully produced the exact
translation of the original. To be hypercritical, I might suggest
that perhaps occasionally the version is rather _too_ literal. For
instance, _Torvald Helmer_, although he is cursed with one of the most
offensive wives known to creation, would scarcely call her "a little
lark," which conveys the impression that he is a "gay dog," and
one given to the traditional ways of that species of ultra-sociable
animals. I have confessed I have not the original before me, so I
cannot say whether the title used by IBSEN is "_Smalle Larke_," but
I fancy that a "capering capercailzie," if not actually his _words_,
would be nearer his _meaning_. A capercailzie is, according to the
dictionaries, a bird of "a delicious flavour" and partially "green;"
it is also found in Norway "very fine and large," as IBSEN might say.
Surely _Torvald_ would have thus described his semi-verdant _Nora_,
finding her distinctly to his taste.

Returning to what I venture to imagine must be "new matter" not in the
Herman-_plus_-Jonesian version, I consider the scene in which _Nora_
chaffs _Dr. Rank_ about his illness absolutely nauseous, and the
drink-inspired admiration of husband for wife in the concluding Act
repulsive to the last degree. On Tuesday the spectators received the
piece with patient apathy; and, this being the case, I could not help
feeling that anyone who could single out such a play as suitable for
performance before an English audience, could scarcely possess the
acumen generally considered a necessary adjunct to the qualifications
of an efficient Dramatic Critic. The hero, the heroine, the doctor,
as prigs, could only appeal to prigs, and thank goodness the average
London theatre-goer is the reverse of a prig. There was but one
redeeming point in the play--its conclusion. It ends happily in
_Nora_, forger, liar, and--hem--wedded flirt, being separated from