Finally, Miss DOROTHY MINTO, as _Dorothy Gedge_, typewriter (with the _nom de guerre_ of _Gedage_), was a little angular, and the motive of her spasmodic excursions across the stage was not always apparent. But she was extremely funny in her inimitable way when she had a chance of exhibiting the unreasonableness of her selection as a mouthpiece of the Muses. At the end, when she wonders if she could have been happy with _Glandeville_ and knows that she would be happy with _Gilder_, she showed an extremely pretty vein of sentiment. And here, too, I must heartily compliment the author on a scene which threatened to be commonplace and tedious, but was handled with a most engaging freshness and a very unusual sense of what was just right and enough. O. S. * * * * * [Illustration: POETRY COMMISSION-AGENTS FINDING A BACKER. _Lord Giandeville_ Mr. VANE-TEMPEST. _Brabazon Todd_ Mr. HENRY WENMAN. _Richard Gilder_ Mr. CHARLES HAWTREY.] * * * * * _ARGUMENTUM AD FEMINAM._ Once, unless the tale's a myth, Chloe danced mid rustic song Indefatigably with Amorous Damon all day long. This was all the joy she knew (Quite enough, no doubt), and yet, Phyllis, when _you_ gambol, _you_ Rather gamble at roulette. Simple 'twas in suchlike days Wooing Chloe. Now, alas, _You_'ve no taste for simple ways, Much prefer green baize to grass. Fled your interest in swains; Nothing for my sighs you care; All your joy is little trains, Oddly dubbed "chemin de fer." Phyllis, if your fixed intent Is that you forsake the dance, Quit Arcadian merriment For exciting games of chance, I've the best of 'em by heaps: Come with me, my dear, and call At the Registrar's; he keeps One big gamble worth them all. * * * * * CON. Con was the conjurer of the king Ere the coming of Padraig Mor, And a wand he had, and a golden ring, And a five-prong crown he wore; And his robe was trimmed with minever-- His robe of the royal blue, For Con was the wonderful conjuror In the days when the tricks were new. He could pick a rabbit from out of a poke Where never had rabbit lain; He could pulp your watch like an egg's red yoke And could give it you whole again; And the king he laughed, "Ha-ha," he laughed, Till they thumped on his back anon; And the other magicians went dancing daft To see the magic of Con.