You see the difference? Of course there is bound
to be a difference, and Mr. A. W. Galsbarrie would
be very much disappointed if there were not.
He understands the critic’s feeling, which is
simply that Kiss Me, Katie, is not worth criticizing,
and that Three Men most emphatically is.
Rut it is not surprising that the plain man-in-the-street,
who has saved up in order to take his girl to one
of the two new plays of the week, and is waiting for
the reviews to appear before booking his seats, should
come to the conclusion that Three Men seems
to be a pretty rotten play, and that, tired though
they are of musical comedy, Kiss Me, Katie,
is evidently something rather extra special which
they ought not to miss.
Which means pots more money for Mr. Albert de Lauributt.
The most important article of furniture in any room
is the fireplace. For half the year we sit round
it, warming ourselves at its heat; for the other half
of the year we continue to sit round it, moved thereto
by habit and the position of the chairs. Yet how
many people choose their house by reason of its fireplaces,
or, having chosen it for some other reason, spend
their money on a new grate rather than on a new sofa
or a grand piano? Not many.
For one who has so chosen his house the lighting of
the first fire is something of a ceremony. But
in any case the first fire of the autumn is a notable
event. Much as I regret the passing of summer,
I cannot help rejoicing in the first autumn days,
days so cheerful and so very much alive. By November
the freshness has left them; one’s thoughts go
backwards regretfully to August or forwards hopefully
to April; but while October lasts, one can still live
in the present. It is in October that one tastes
again the delights of the fireside, and finds them
to be even more attractive than one had remembered.
But though I write “October,” let me confess
that, Coal Controller or no Coal Controller, it was
in September that I lit my first fire this year.
Perhaps as the owner of a new and (as I think) very
attractive grate I may be excused. There was some
doubt as to whether a fireplace so delightful could
actually support a fire, a doubt which had to be resolved
as soon as possible. The match was struck with
all solemnity; the sticks caught up the flame from
the dying paper and handed it on to the coal; in a
little while the coal had made room for the logs,
and the first autumn fire was in being.
Among the benefits which the war has brought to London,
and a little less uncertain than some, is the log
fire. In the country we have always burnt logs,
with the air of one who was thus identifying himself
with the old English manner, but in London never—unless
it were those ship’s logs, which gave off a
blue flame and very little else, but seemed to bring
the fact that we were an island people more closely
home to us. Now wood fires are universal.
Whether the air will be purer in consequence and fogs
less common, let the scientist decide; but we are
all entitled to the opinion that our drawing-rooms
are more cheerful for the change.
