which the comical angles of life are exposed, if it
is brilliant; neither have I anything to say against light comedy in
which the ridiculous side of things is portrayed. This sort of
entertainment may help men who have spent a busy day, crowded with
anxious moments, and weighted with serious responsibilities, but
exhibitions which make men on their way home talk not of art, or of
music, or of wit, but of "the little girl who wore a little black net"
are distinctly to be condemned. Even the class who think it waste of
time to think, and who go to the theater only to "laugh awfully", are
not helped by this sort of entertainment. Such songs as the following,
which I have culled from the 'Play Pictorial', a monthly published in
London, must in time pall the taste of even the shallow-minded.

"Can't you spare a glance?
Have we got a chance?
You've got a knowing pair of eyes;
When it's 2 to 1
It isn't much fun,"
This is what she soon replies:

"Oh, won't you buy a race-card,
And take a tip from me?
If you want to find a winner,
It's easy as can be
When the Cupid stakes are starting,
Your heads are all awhirl,
And my tip to-day
Is a bit each way
On the race-card girl."

Yet this, apparently, is the sort of thing which appeals to the modern
American who wants amusement of the lightest kind, amusement which
appeals to the eye and ear with the lightest possible tax on his
already over-burdened brain. He certainly cannot complain that his
wishes have not been faithfully fulfilled. It may be due to my
ignorance of English, but the song I have just quoted seems to me
silly, and I do not think any "ragtime music" could make it worth
singing. Of course many songs and plays in the music halls are such as
afford innocent mirth, but it has to be confessed that there are other
things of a different type which it is not wise for respectable
families to take the young to see. I would not like to say all I think
of this feature of Western civilization, but I may quote an Englishman
without giving offense. Writing in the 'Metropolitan Magazine', Louis
Sherwin says: "There is not a doubt that the so-called 'high-brow
dancer' has had a lot to do with the bare-legged epidemic that rages
upon the comic-opera stage to-day. Nothing could be further removed
from musical comedy than the art of such women as Isadora Duncan and
Maude Allen. To inform Miss Duncan that she