Red-Headed Queen Features in Eighty-First Annual Pudding Riot--Chorus is Sylph-Like

The following review of the Hasty Pudding Club Show "Gentlemen, the Queen!", whose first public opening is tonight, was writen by B. S. Cogan '23, former star of Pudding dramatics.

"Gentlemen proffer Blondes", said Anita Loos.

"Some do not", F. M. Ford retorted.

The storm of applause which greeted the appearance of W. L. Wilson '27 last night as the red-headed Queen Elizabeth in the Hasty Pudding club's eighty first annual riot, seems to indicate a public demand to investigate further this question of color. The wise man will only look more devilish and confine his remarks to the cleverness, good looks, and ability of said Wilson, who is even better this year than in the past two years, which is as much as can be said for any actor. Arnie Horween was heard to mutter that if he only had a quarterback on Soldiers' Field that looked as good as Wilson does on the Pudding Stage, Yale would concede next November's game right now. He shows new clever steps, the same good acting, and he is better than ever before, playing a part which demands real ability.

But even Queens must have their troubles and disappointments. Elizabeth has them showered upon her by all the court, by foreign powers and especially by her royal cousin Queen Mayme of Monomania. E. deS Melcher '28 had the job of showing the audience how a Sixteenth Century Red Riding Hood got her pearls. It's impossible to say anything about Melcher; you've got to see him to appreciate his antics, and here's some friendly advice--wear a surcingle to keep yourself from falling to pieces with laughter. That lady could show most of these modern gold diggers a whole lot about hydraulic mining.

Following close upon the heels of these two ladies come all the people of the court. Shakespeare played by Franklin F. Dexter '28 and Raleigh, portrayed by Donald Murchie '28, with veiled plots and boastful words; Sir Hudson Essex A. S. Bigelow '29, fully equipped, including spare, the handsome here of manly men and well-turned limb, who breaks hearts with a glance; Lady Evelyn, M. B. Wells '28 his true love and lady-in-waiting to Elizabeth, who continually interrupts the love making of this amourous couple. And shshsh! the villain, Ramon Pedro Jose etc, etc, etc, acted by George Higginson '27 ambassador and lieutenant of King Philipe of Spain, who don't mean right by our Nell! Ramon, scorned and repulsed, carries out to the best of his ability the commands of his King, as well he should do, and with cautious footstep and deep breathing he attempts to--but you'll have to see that for yourself.

And now the chorus. This chorus is Good. They can ogle an eye, trip a measure, swing a neat ankle and sing. The girls are sylph-like in their gracefulness, like a swarm of butterflies winging o'er a clover field. The boys are stalwart and sturdy, dressed in their 50-pound suits of armor. If they don't always look happy, think how you'd feel black-bottoming in full matching equipment and looking for all the world like a King Arthur Flour ad.

As in a good dinner, the dessert of a musical comedy should come just before the fingerbowls, and the Puddingers serve it properly in Act If when C. E. Henderson '28, who has been continually, stopping the show with his new song, gags, antics and weird instruments, gets together the Five Nations to do a little pre-Pilgrim harmonizing. No wonder the Indians in this country were wild!

Finally, in a blaze of glory, the day at court closes, and once again you are permitted to peep into a Queen's boudoir. Once again the ladies of the Court dance attendance, and while the curtain descends, Her Royal Highness slowly sinks to slumber. It's a touching scene, so leave early if you are easily moved to tears.

All in all, "Gentlemen, the Queen" is, a great show--indeed one of the best in Pudding Theatrical annals--and, taken with "1776", University 4 advises that it counts as a full course in History.

P. S. Don't neglect to notice the Page & Shaw, coat of arma over the Throne. That's to prove that, Elizabeth was the Candy Kid.