CRIMSON PLAYGOER

"Yes," said the Tutor in History, "romance and adventure have disappeared from modern times. I took a bicycle trip through Ireland in its most troubled time and didn't hear a shot fired; I walked through the Ghetto with several hundred lire in my pocket in the early morning hours--and nothing happened."

And this routine nature of our present life is probably the reason for the great vogue that now belongs to such plays as "The Student Prince," "Castles in the Air," and "The Vagabond King", the latter now current at the Shubert.

In this operetta in the present manner, we have brimming beakers, tavern brawls, heralds issuing defies, and vagabonds made kings for a day, wooing beautiful ladies pursued by grasping Brugundian nobles. Francois Villon once again lives as the Robin Hood of France; Louis XI consults his astrologer; bibulous rogues hoist their beakers while their voices are raised in fulsome drinking songs; Scottish Guards march boldly; and court ladies make one regret the passing of gallantry in favor of equal rights.

In such a play, the song's the thing, and the Vagabond King offers Several of more than average merit. "Only a Rose" and "The Song of the Vagabonds" are especially good so good, in fact, that the parsimonious reviewer parted with 75 cents for a phonograph record of the romance and adventure of the Middle Ages. And so swarshbuckling did he become that he drove the unappreciative janitor from his rooms with a snarl of "Dog, knave, back to your kennil" two hours after the play was over.

An excellent tonic too, for any inferiority complex which the April hours may have given you