THE TALE OF A TUB

Great as has been the discussion concerning the despoliation of Europe's old masters by Americans, a still more furious storm threatens on the horizon. According to a recent dispatch to the New York Herald Tribune, an American connoisseur of art has carried from the shores of France no less than a historic relic of primary importance, a monument to French Democracy--in fact, the very bath tub in which the great Marat was stabbed by Charlotte Corday. This new fad of Americans no longer to confine themselves to purely artistic objects and to enter the field of historic memorials has caused the fellow countrymen of Watteau and Monet to rise in righteous anger to defend their national treasures. At present, their efforts have taken the form of a million dollar law suit against the gentleman of the United States.

The case has taken an unusual turn in that the Grevin Wax Works insist that they possess the only tub in which M. Marat died. They therefore demand that the American disclaim the authenticity of his possession and regard it merely as an eighteenth century bathing device. This the American will not do, for not only has he paid four hundred dollars for his treasure, but also he owns the keys to the room in which the relic was installed. Besides, as the efficiency of such an appliance can in no way compare with that of the creations of today the utter uselessness of owning merely a bath tub of the time of the Revolution will not permit the thrifty American owner to renounce the historic value of his possession.

This reductio ad absurdum of a current foible which has given rise even in shrewd New England to vast consignments of "Mayflower" furniture may cause a smile. But the Levantine inhabitants of Charles Street will still learn to find their appreciation of the marvelous powers of the father of their new country in the value with which he endowed the chairs in which he once found rest.