THE CRIME

When the hounds of fall are on summer's traces,

And actors' voices are spreading fear;

When grins are gracing the Yard cops' faces

As they see a chance for more free beer;

When football rises to five a ticket,

And women rejoice at the chance to cheer,

For the man and the ball--"he sure can kick it"--

And check accounts just disappear;

When the Lampoon blows its, yearly bubble

And the Ibis lays a hard boiled egg;

When seniors occasionally see double,

And Max continues his daily beg--

Then you can't expect to have me shedding

Stuff which is safe, but, if you do,

As Coolidge said right after the wedding,

"Grace, my dear, the joke's on you."

Now that all this football stench has been wafted upon the breezes of the autumn air and all that sort of thing, may I suggest that there is in my heart a profound respect for Princeton. Princeton is the only college, not to mention university, in this country which supports a drum with such a drummer as appeared between the halves and the goal posts last Saturday. Before Gilbert Seldes and the other higher aesthetes get a chance I wish to have it definitely stated that that drummer is a great artist. Like a moth ball in a derby he was the only bright spot of my afternoon. May he live to beat many drums.

Which returns one immediately to a congenial subject. In yesterday's Boston Herald it was announced that the present histrionic treat at Waldron's Casino is "real burlesque of the old school". Now there may be those who do not know what "old school" burlesque is. They have never been west of Allentown, Pennsylvania, on the Lehigh. Nor have they tried that excellent establishment, the Howard Athenaeum. Of course the best friend after a visit to burlesque of the "old school" is an old clothes merchant, for where there's smoke there's sure to be smell--as the old proverb says--but, in the long run as Nurnri used to say, it is worth it. For physicists can learn what happens when an irresistible force meets an immovable body and doctors can leave why, when he signs up has chorus, a burlesque manager takes on flesh.

But never let it be thought that this column has not sufficient of the aesthetic urge. Only last week was to the Plymouth and did see Gregory Kelley in the "Butter and Egg Man" where there is one beautiful titian tressed milady who doth make a man's heart beat with no uncertain beating and where Robert Middlemas late of the Harvard Dramatic Club, not very late, yet does nobly by his part which is amusing plus a cigar.

And mention of the Dramatic Club reminds me that there is to be a production of "Arms and the Man" at Radcliffe this week as well as at the Repertory next week (adv.) which just thrills us all, thud, thud. Imagine the opportunity to see at one and the same time or at least within a week two productions of the same show, even though it is one of Shaw's worst, is now as dead as the dodo, the German war guilt and Ogden Mills. Weren't it for a friend of ours who goes to Vermont State Normal School we'd bet on Radcliffe, that is, knowing the Repertory.

In fact we asked Joe Forecast about it and he said that with an average hand he would bid at least "one without" providing Michigan did beat the Navy.