Finally, _A Pantomime Rehearsal_ is still about the very funniest thing to be seen in any London Theatre at the present time. The ladies are, all of them, as the old gentleman in _Pink Dominoes_ used to say, "Pretty dears!" They dance charmingly, especially Miss ELLALINE TERRISS and Miss DECIMA MOORE, whose two duets and character-dances are things of joy for ever. The representative of _Jack Deedes_, Barrister-at-Law and Gifted Author, is LITTLE and good, and the services of Mr. DRAYCOTT as the Lime-Light Comedian are invaluable. WEEDON GROSSMITH and BRANDON THOMAS are better than ever: their duet is immense, but their combat is too short. Why not introduce a _Corsican Brothers_ duel? The music, by Mr. EDWARD JONES, is thoroughly appropriate and very catching. By the way, one of the songs most encored goes with the exquisitely sensible and touching refrain of "Diddle doddle diddle chip chop cho choorial li lay," which was enormously popular about thirty years ago when it was sung at EVANS's by SAM COWELL, and by CHARLES YOUNG as _Dido_ on the stage of the St. James's Theatre. Odd this! The air has been a bit altered, but I thought that comic songs once out of date were dead and done for. The success of this is proof to the contrary. Will "Ta-ra-ra-boom" achieve a second success in 1922? Perhaps. A capital entertainment, which has caught on at the Court, says THE HUMBLE B. IN BOX. * * * * * [Illustration: DRAWING-ROOM INANITIES. _She_. "NO, DON'T SIT THERE, MR. SPLOSHER--THAT'S MY UGLY SIDE!" _He_ (_wishing to please_). "WELL--A--REALLY--I DON'T SEE ANY DIFFERENCE!"] * * * * * "NOT AT HOME!" (_A DUOLOGUE ON A DOORSTEP._) SCENE--_The G.O.M.'s front door. Two expectant callers, EIGHT-HOURS BILL and Miss SARAH SUFFRAGE, in sore disappointment and some disgust, interlocute_:-- _Mr. Bill_ (_sardonically_). _You_ too? Ah! he ain't no respecter of pussons, _he_ ain't! _Miss Sarah_ (_tartly_). Well, this tries the temper of even a Suffrage she-saint. I _did_ think,--but there, you _cannot_ trust Men--even Grand Old Ones! _Mr. Bill. Trust_? Them as do trust Party Leaders are gen'rally _sold_ ones. It don't a mite matter _which_ side. _Miss Sarah_. Well, as far as I see, The _other_ side shows the most signs, BILL, of favouring Me! I'm sure Mister BALFOUR was awfully civil and nice. _Mr. Bill_. You won't trust Prince ARTHUR too far, if you'll take _my_ advice. _Miss Sarah_. Well, no,--but I _should_ like to pay out--the other. Ah, drat him! I'd comb his scant wool, the old fox, could I only get at him. _I_'d pamphlet the wily old word-spinner. _Mr. Bill_. Ah! I've no doubt; But wot can we do when his flunkey assures us he's out? _Miss Sarah. We_'re out, anyhow.