ther interpreter would coldly present them for an
audience to take or to leave, exposing them to cruel inspection. Even in
her interpretation of heartless women it is always to our sense of
humour that she appeals, while in her rendering of _Ma Tete_ and _La
Pierreuse_ she strikes directly at our hearts. Zola once told Mme.
Guilbert that the _apaches_ were the logical descendants of the old
chevaliers of France. "They are the only men we have now who will fight
over a woman!" he said. When you hear Mme. Guilbert call "_Pi-ouit!_"
you will readily perceive that she understands what Zola meant.

Wonderful Yvette, who has embodied so many pleasant images in the
theatre, who has expressed to the world so much of the soul of France,
so much of the soul of art itself, but, above all, so much of the soul
of humanity. It is not alone General Booth who has made friends of
"drabs from the alley-ways and drug fiends pale--Minds still
passion-ridden, soul-powers frail! Vermin-eaten saints with mouldy
breath, unwashed legions with the ways of death": these are all friends
of Yvette Guilbert too. And when Balzac wrote the concluding paragraph
of "Massimila Doni" he may have foreseen the later application of the
lines.... Surely "the peris, nymphs, fairies, sylphs of the olden time,
the muses of Greece, the marble Virgins of the Certosa of Pavia, the Day
and Night of Michael Angelo, the little angels that Bellini first drew
at the foot of church paintings, and to whom Raphael gave such divine
form at the foot of the Vierge au donataire, and of the Madonna freezing
at Dresden; Orcagna's captivating maidens in the Church of Or San
Michele at Florence, the heavenly choirs on the tombs of St. Sebald at
Nuremberg, several Virgins in the Duomo at Milan, the hordes of a
hundred Gothic cathedrals, the whole nation of figures who break their
forms to come to you, O all-embracing artists--" surely, surely, all
these hover over Yvette Guilbert.

_April 16, 1917._

Waslav Nijinsky

"_A thing of beauty is a boy forever._"

Allen Norton.

Serge de Diaghilew brought the dregs of the Russian Ballet to New York
and, after a first greedy gulp, inspired by curiosity to get a taste of
this highly advertised beverage, the public drank none too greedily. The
scenery and the costumes, designed by Bakst, Roerich, Benois, and
Larionow, and the music of Rimsky-Korsakow, Tcherepnine, Schumann,
Borodine, Balakirew, and Strawinsky--especially Str