CHARACTERS SIR JOHN PEMBURY, M.P.LADY PEMBURY.PERKINS.THE STRANGER. * * * * * The first performance of this play was given at the Alhambra Theatre on November 16, 1920, with the following cast: Sir John Pembury–GILBERT HARE.Lady Pembury–WINIFRED EMERY.Perkins–C.M. LOWNE.The Stranger–GERALD DU MAURIER. (A summer morning. The sunniest and perhaps the pleasantest room in the London […]

TALKER . Ladies and gentlemen, companions-in-arms, knights and ladies of the road, comrades all,–I have the honour to make an announcement to you. The wandering company of the Red Feathers is determined from this date, likewise disbanded, or, as others would say, dissolved. “What means this, Master Johannes?” I hear you say. “Who has done […]

CHARACTERS. UNCLE JAMES.AUNT EMILY.PHILIP.MARY.MRS. HIGGINS. This play was first produced by Mr. Owen Nares at the Victoria Palace Theatre on September 9,1918, with the following cast: Philip–OWEN NARES.Uncle James–TOM REYNOLDS.Aunt Emily–DOROTHY RADFORD.Mary–ADAH DICK.Mrs. Higgins–RACHEL DE SOLLA. [SCENE.–A room in UNCLE JAMES’S house in the Cromwell Road.] [TIME.–The day after the War.] [Any room in UNCLE […]

CHARACTERS ROBERT CRAWSHAW, M.P.MARGARET CRAWSHAW (his wife).VIOLA CRAWSHAW (his daughter).RICHARD MERITON, M.P.DENIS CLIFTON. A Two-Act version of this play was produced by Mr. Dion Boucicault at the New Theatre on April 7, 1917, with the following cast: Robert Crawshaw–NIGEL PLAYFAIR.Margaret Crawshaw–HELEN HAYE.Viola Crawshaw–PEGGY KURTON.Richard Meriton–MARTIN LEWIS.Denis Clifton–DION BOUCICAULT.Lancelot Dodd–BERTRAM SIEMS. [SCENE.–ROBERT CRAWSHAW’S town house. Morning.] […]

(In the manner of many contemporaries) Now that the “festive season” (copyright) is approaching, it behoves us all to prepare ourselves in some way to contribute to the gaiety of the Christmas house-party. A clever conjurer is welcome anywhere, and those of us whose powers of entertainment are limited to the setting of booby-traps or […]

I take it that every able-bodied man and woman in this country wants to write a play. Since the news first got about that Orlando What’s-his-name made L50,000 out of “The Crimson Sponge,” there has been a feeling that only through the medium of the stage can literary art find its true expression. The successful […]

The man in front of the fire was telling us a story about his wife and a bottle of claret. He had taken her to the best restaurant in Paris and had introduced her to a bottle of the famous Chateau Whatsitsname, 1320 (or thereabouts), a wine absolutely priceless–although the management, with its customary courtesy, […]

I In the days of Good King Carraway (dead now, poor fellow, but he had a pleasant time while he lasted) there lived a certain swineherd commonly called Hi-You. It was the duty of Hi-You to bring up one hundred and forty-one pigs for his master, and this he did with as much enthusiasm as […]

There was once a young man who decided to be a poodle-clipper. He felt that he had a natural bent for it, and he had been told that a fashionable poodle-clipper could charge his own price for his services. But his father urged him to seek another profession. “It is an uncertain life, poodle-clipping,” he […]

[Specially written for Economic Pictures, Limited, whose Manager has had the good fortune to pick up for a mere song (or, to be more accurate, for a few notes) several thousand miles of discarded cinema films from a bankrupt company. The films comprise the well-known “Baresark Basil, the Pride of the Ranch” (two miles long), […]

People say to me sometimes, “Oh, you know Woolman, don’t you?” I acknowledge that I do, and, after the silence that always ensues, I add, “If you want to say anything against him, please go on.” You can almost hear the sigh of relief that goes up. “I thought he was a friend of yours,” […]

I do not claim to be an authority on either the history or the practice of chess, but, as the poet Gray observed when he saw his old school from a long way off, it is sometimes an advantage not to know too much of one’s subject. The imagination can then be exercised more effectively. […]

The girl who shared Herbert’s meringue at dinner (a brittle one, which exploded just as he was getting into it) was kind and tactful. “It doesn’t matter a bit,” she said, removing fragments of shell from her lap; and, to put him at his ease again, went on “Are you interested in little problems at […]

(In the Twentieth Century manner) “Cauliflower!” shrieked Gaspard Volauvent across the little table in the estaminet. His face bristled with rage. “Serpent!” replied Jacques Rissole, bristling with equal dexterity. The two stout little men glared ferociously at each other. Then Jacques picked up his glass and poured the wine of the country over his friend’s […]

I have always wanted a garden of my own. Other people’s gardens are all very well, but the visitor never sees them at their best. He comes down in June, perhaps, and says something polite about the roses. “You ought to have seen them last year,” says his host disparagingly, and the visitor represses with […]

I found myself in the same drawing-room with Anne the other day, so I offered her one of my favourite sandwiches. (I hadn’t seen her for some time, and there were plenty in the plate.) “If you are coming to talk to me,” she said, “I think I had better warn you that I am […]

Celia had been calling on a newly married friend of hers. They had been schoolgirls together; they had looked over the same algebra book (or whatever it was that Celia learnt at school–I have never been quite certain); they had done their calisthenics side by side; they had compared picture post cards of Lewis Waller. […]

(A Moral Story for the Middle-aged) I Seated in the well-appointed library of Blight Hall, John Blighter, Seventeenth Earl of Blight, bowed his head in his hands and gave himself up to despair. The day of reckoning had come. Were appearances not so deceptive, one would have said that Lord Blight (“Blight,” as he was […]

By an “artist” I mean Shakespeare and Me and Bach and Myself and Velasquez and Phidias, and even You if you have ever written four lines on the sunset in somebody’s album, or modelled a Noah’s Ark for your little boy in plasticine. Perhaps we have not quite reached the heights where Shakespeare stands, but […]

[An inevitable article in any decent magazine at Christmas-time. Read it carefully, and then have an uproarious time in your own little house.] It was a merry party assembled at Happy-Thought Hall for Christmas. The Squire liked company, and the friends whom he had asked down for the festive season had all stayed at Happy-Thought […]