It ran something like this:--
For you won't be here and I won't be here
When a hundred years are gone,
But somebody else will be well in the cart*
And the world will still go on.
* Or, alternatively, soup.
Mr. LESLIE HENSON, as I have hinted, allowed himself--and us--no rest. His
energy was devastating; he gave the audience so much for their money that
in the retrospect I feel ashamed of not having paid for my seat. One's
taste for him may need acquiring; but, once acquired, there is clearly no
getting away from it. Perhaps his most irresistible moment was when he laid
out six policemen and then meekly surrendered to a female constable who led
him off by the ear.
Mr. FRED LESLIE (a name to conjure with!) was almost fiercely emphatic in
the part of _Paillard_, and I preferred the relatively quiet methods of Mr.
AUSTIN MELFORD, who did without italics. Mr. RALPH ROBERTS was droll as a
waiter; and it may have been my fault that I found Mr. DAVY BURNABY rather
unfunny in the part of _Matthieu_.
Of the ladies, two could sing and two, or even three, could act (Miss LILY
ST. JOHN could do both); nearly all had good looks and a few of them were
pleasantly acrobatic.
The scene of the Hotel Pimlico, with an alleged private sitting-room on one
side, an alleged bedroom on the other, and a hall and staircase in the
middle, was extraordinarily unconvincing.
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