"A BUSY DAY."
I have always wanted to be a grocer. To spend the morning arranging
the currants in the window; to spend the afternoon recommending (with
a parent's partiality) such jolly things as bottled gooseberries and
bloater paste; to spend the evening examining the till and wondering if
you have got off the bad half-crown yet--that is a life. Many grocers,
I believe, do not realise it, and envy (foolishly enough) the dramatic
critic, knowing little of the troubles hidden behind his apparently
spotless shirt-front; but even they will admit that to be a grocer for
an hour would be fun.
[Illustration: CLEAN BRITISH HUMOUR.
(_As the saying is._)
MR. HAWTREY AND MISS COMPTON EXCHANGE BADINAGE OVER A BAR OF
SOAP.]
And that (very nearly) was _Lord Charles Temperleigh's_ luck. Being a
spendthrift he was kept at The Bungalow, Ashford, without money; he
escaped to the shop of his old nurse at Mudborough, with the idea of
borrowing from her--and if you are a clever dramatist you can easily
arrange that he should be left alone in the shop and mistaken for the
genuine salesman. Unfortunately for my complete happiness (and no doubt
_Lord Charles's_ too) the shop was a chandler's; however, if that is
not the rose, it is at least very near it. The chandler sells soap and
the grocer sells cheese, and you can make a joke about the likeness as
Mr. R. C. CARTON did. And if _Lord Charles_ should happen to
be Mr. CHARLES HAWTREY and he should be accompanied by Miss
COMPTON, you can understand that this and other jokes would
lose nothing in their delivery.
Yet somehow the shop scene was not the success it should have
been. The First and Third Acts were better; they left more to Mr.
HAWTREY. When Mr. CARTON is trying to be funny,
even Mr. HAWTREY cannot help him much; but when he is taking
it easily then he and Mr. HAWTREY together are delightful.
Mr. EDWARD FITZGERALD as an Irish waiter was a joy. Miss
COMPTON was Miss COMPTON; if you like her (as I
do), then you like her. The others had not much chance. It is a
HAWTREY evening, and (as such) an oasis in a desert of War
thoughts.