Technically the play is not so perfect a thing as Mr. Björkman's unbounded encomiums would make us believe. It opens, for instance, in the good old fashion scorned by Ibsen--with the gossip of servants, who are here engaged in laying the table instead of in the time-honored task of dusting. The whole action is cast within some eight hours, thus causing a use of coincidence to the straining point. The most commendable feature of technique is the admirably sustained suspense: the story of Gertrude overshadows the entire piece from the opening scene to Mrs. Borneman's avowal in the last act. The powerful use of the story as contrast to Karen's career is also unusual. And yet in spite of its faults--perhaps because of them--we have found Karen Borneman the most stimulating play of the year. We hope one of our two organizations dedicated to the drama will put it on in the near future. When the ape lost his wits he became man.--Viacheslav Ivanov. Galsworthy's Little Human Comedy No magazine that comes to this office is looked for more excitedly than Harper's Weekly. Poetry and Drama is a quarterly event that keeps us in a dignified intensity of expectation; and there are others. But Harper's is a weekly adventure in the interest of which we haunt the postman. At present it is featuring a series of sketches by Galsworthy--satirical characterizations of those human beings who pride themselves on being "different." Here is a man who knows himself for a philosopher; here is an "artist"; here is one of those rare individualities so enlightened, so superior, so removed, that there is only one label for him: "The Superlative." But it is in The Philosopher that Galsworthy excels himself. It is probably the most consummate satire that has appeared in the last decade: