If I wanted to find fault with any detail of the construction, it would be in the matter of the ring which Anthony places on the finger of Aloney in the cinema play.  This was a spontaneous act not included in the scheme for which Mortimer John was given the credit.  Yet as the means by which Anthony identified her on his return to consciousness it went far to bring that scheme to fruition.  I think also that he ought to have shown some trace of surprise (I should myself) on finding that he had unconsciously exchanged his spotless evening clothes for the kit of a broncho-buster.

I have hinted already at the comparative dulness of the long introduction to what is the clou of the play—­the film and its reconstructed scenes.  Why not take a further wrinkle from the cinematic drama and throw upon the screen a succinct resume of the previous argument?  Three or four minutes of steady application to the text, and we might plunge into the very heart of things.  I throw out this suggestion not with any hope of reward, but in part payment of my debt for some very joyous laughter.  O.S.

* * * * *

    “Wanted, Gentlewoman a few days old.” The Lady.

This is much prettier than “Baby taken from birth.”

* * * * *

[Illustration:  “AND LOOK HERE, FRITZ—­]

[Illustration:  —­WHATEVER HAPPENS—­]

[Illustration:  —­SEE YOU KEEP—­]

[Illustration:  —­THEM HANDS OF YOURS—­]

[Illustration:  —­WELL ABOVE—­]

[Illustration:  —­YOUR BLINKIN’ HEAD.”]

* * * * *

A SONG OF THE WOODLAND ELVES.

  We hear the ruthless axes; we watch our rafters fall;
  The seawind blows unhindered where stood our banquet-hall;
  Our grassy rings are trampled, our leafy tents are torn—­
  Yet more would we, and gladly, to help the English-born.

  For, leafy-crowned or frosted, the English oaks are ours;
  The beeches are our playrooms, the elms our outlook towers;
  And we were forest rangers before these woods had name,
  And we were elves in England before the Romans came.

We watched the Druids worship; we watched the wild bulls feed;
We gave our oaks to ALFRED to build his ships at need;
And often in the moonlight our pricked ears in the wood
Have heard the hail of RUFUS, the horn of ROBIN HOOD.

But if our age-old roof-beams can serve her cause to-day,
The woodland elves of England will sign their rights away;
For none but will be woeful to hear the axes ring,
Yet none but would go homeless to aid an English King. 

                                W.H.O.

* * * * *

GOOD OLD GOTHIC.