same order
as those in "La Veine," and not less entertaining. The mounting, simple
as it was, was admirably planned; the stage-pictures full of explicit
drollery. And, as before, the whole company worked with the effortless
unanimity of a perfect piece of machinery.

A few days after seeing "La Veine" I went to Wyndham's Theatre to see a
revival of Sir Francis Burnand's "Betsy." "Betsy," of course, is adapted
from the French, though, by an accepted practice which seems to me
dishonest, in spite of its acceptance, that fact is not mentioned on the
play-bill. But the form is undoubtedly English, very English. What
vulgarity, what pointless joking, what pitiable attempts to serve up old
impromptus rechauffes! I found it impossible to stay to the end. Some
actors, capable of better things, worked hard; there was a terrible air
of effort in these attempts to be sprightly in fetters, and in rusty
fetters. Think of "La Veine" at its worst, and then think of "Betsy"! I
must not ask you to contrast the actors; it would be almost unfair. We
have not a company of comedians in England who can be compared for a
moment with Mme. Jeanne Granier's company. We have here and there a good
actor, a brilliant comic actor, in one kind or another of emphatic
comedy; but wherever two or three comedians meet on the English stage,
they immediately begin to checkmate, or to outbid, or to shout down one
another. No one is content, or no one is able, to take his place in an
orchestra in which it is not allotted to every one to play a solo.

A DOUBLE ENIGMA

When it was announced that Mrs. Tree was to give a translation of
"L'Enigme" of M. Paul Hervieu at Wyndham's Theatre, the play was
announced under the title "Which?" and as "Which?" it appeared on the
placards. Suddenly new placards appeared, with a new title, not at all
appropriate to the piece, "Caesar's Wife." Rumours of a late decision,
or indecision, of the censor were heard. The play had not been
prohibited, but it had been adapted to more polite ears. But how? That
was the question. I confess that to me the question seemed insoluble.
Here is the situation as it exists in the play; nothing could be
simpler, more direct, more difficult to tamper with.

Two brothers, Raymond and Gerard de Gourgiran, are in their country
house, with their two wives, Giselle and Leonore, and two guests, the
old Marquis de Neste and the young M. de Vivarce. The brothers surprise
Vivarce on the stair