The mystery surrounding the fate of Tsar Nicholas II and his family, so often solved, has been solved again. In the expressive words of Le Matin, Paris Journal: "General Janin [onetime head of the French Mission in Siberia] has spoken."

It appears that the General was given several urns of human ashes by the Russian General Diterichs and M. Gilliard, tutor to the little Tsarevitch. These gruesome relics he handed over to M. de Giers, quondam Russian Ambassador to Rome, and the latter has, apparently, handed them over to the Grand Duke Nikolai Nikolaievitch, cousin of the Tsar and leader of the world-scattered Russian Monarchists.

Describing the contents of the urns, General Janin said: "To me fell the difficult charge of bringing to France, for the Grand Duke Nikolai, the remains of the Emperor Nicholas II, of the Empress, of the Tsarevitch Alexis, of the young Grand Duchesses and of two servants. These poor remains could no longer be separated. The ashes of the Sovereign were mixed with those of his faithful valets. All that was recognizable was a finger, held by experts to belong to the Empress because it was that of a middle-aged woman and its nail had been carefully manicured. There was also-with calcined precious stones, the remains of burnt clothing, the buckle of the Tsarevitch's sword belt, military buttons, some portable icons, and other objects of pietya shapeless little mass of human grease!"

The Monarchists, headed by the Grand Duke Nikolai Nikolaievitch, however, declined to reveal the present resting place of the urns and all that

TIME

could be obtained by diligent newsmen were multiplex corroborations of General Janin's tale. It has been rumored that the whole story of the ashes is for the Russian pure propaganda

Monarchist cause, but this is not borne out by the facts of the case.

Famine?

new

the Bank of England and the Federal Reserve system of the U. S.

Costa Rica. The Costa Rican Constitutional Congress ratified a convention and protocol with the U. S., the terms of which facilitate the work of traveling salesmen.

Mexico. Latest reports pointed to an overwhelming victory for General Plutarco Elias Calles in the Presidential elections which were to be held on July 6. General Angel Flores was the only candidate in opposition to Calles thought to have any chance.

H. A. C. Cummins, ex-British Chargé des Archives, arrived in El Paso, Texas, from Mexico after having been forced to leave that country by President Alvaro Obregon (TIME, June 23, et seq.). Commenting upon the treatment meted out by the Mexicans, Mr. Cummins said:

"The acts of those who rule in Mexico today represent neither the character nor sentiments of the Mexican people, nor are they worthy of them.

"There can be no suggestion that those acts could offend British prestige or dignity. They merely demonstrate rudeness, lack of calm, and should be treated with patience and pity.

"The inexactitudes and deliberate exaggerations of the Government, however, know no limits; that is more disheartening than the impulsive acts that merely show lack of restraint."

Haiti. According to a statement emanating from the U. S. Department of State all U. S. troops will be withdrawn from the Republic of Haiti* as soon as internal conditions warrant such a step.

Dominican Republic. The U. S. State Department also announced that U. S. Marines would be withdrawn from the Dominican Republict which occupies the same island as Haiti, during the months of July and August. Four transports sailed from the U. S. to fetch off the devil dogs.

*Haiti, which declared its independence from France in 1803, signed in 1915 with the U. S. a treaty virtually establishing an American protectorate over the country. The main provisions of the treaty were to establish a number of U. S. advisory officers, appointed by the President of Haiti on the recommendation of the President of the U. S.; but their functions have since been coordinated under a High Commissioner. Military occupation was necessary to safeguard U. S. personnel and to enforce order during a period of administrative construction.

t The Dominican Republic was founded in 1844 and misgoverned itself with short exceptions until 1916 when the U. S. found it necessary to establish a military government. For almost eight years San Domingans have behaved themselves, and in the hope that this has now become a habit the U. S. is about to terminale occupation of the country.

Candide Recrudescens*
Pigs, Pocks, Panegyrics

The Story. Peter Pock, Jr., was born in a bed of roses with a silver spoon in his mouth.

His father, a pork-packer, had started life with but a single pig, but so brilliantly had he manipulated that lone. porker, that he had at length attained unto dizzying financial plenitude and a mansion on Chicago's Gold Coast. He had, moreover, a passion for cleanliness. In public life, he stood for: "Clean Water Supply (Prohibition!), Clean Education (Paul Revere's Ride!), Clean Literature (Pollyanna!), Clean Minds (belief in the stork!)."

Thus, when the 12-year-old Peter said to his parent one day: "Papa, here is a picture called Immaculate Conception. What is Immaculate Conception?" the elder Pock replied smoothly: "That's the name of the lady, Peter."

Peter grew up, cheerful, well-pursed. He had all but completed his education at the famed Bah-Bah University, when he fell in love with the fair Georgina, butcher's daughter. Peter's stern parent forbade the match, threatened to cut him off with but, a single pig. To cure him of his passion, it was decided to ship him off to Paris with his tutor and mentor, one Rufus Gabbe, M.A., Ph.D., panegyrist of Bah-Bah philosophy.

To Paris they went. When Peter had time to spare from his other pursuits, he thought on Georgina and was faithful to her after his fashion.

Came the War. Peter and Gabbe joined the French forces at the front, where in due course Peter was wounded. In the hospital Georgina (who had conveniently come over as a nurse) consoled him by saying: "War isn't what it used to be. Nowadays you can face the enemy and still get a wound from the rear."

There were gay times in Paris with Georgina after Peter had recovered. He wooed her with champagne and hors d'oeuvres, wanted her to marry him at once; but the thought of that one pig deterred her. She decided it would be too hard upon the pig to have to support them both. So, as a compromise, he bought her a lock bracelet and departed for the front, keeping the key.

From now on, the story runs riot. The War ends, Peter returns home, his father relents, he marries Georgina amid a swirl of roses and Rolls-Royces. But something that (to the reader's slightly puzzled intelligence) seems like an attack of amnesia, causes her to drive off in her new Rolls on their

*THE NEW CANDIDE-John Cournos-Boni, Liveright ($2.50).

wedding night-while her unsuspecting husband sits by the moonlit lake and meditates, and never misses her till morning.

The rest of the story is a dizzying mélange of Peter's wanderings seeking Georgina amid the Bolsheviks in Russia, the Sinn Feiners in Ireland, the Fascisti in Rome, the Ku Kluxers in

JOHN COURNOS

He plays with pebbles

the U. S. Georgina is continually turning up, conveniently but mysteriously, in the course of his terrestrial ambulations, and ectoplasmically fading from the picture again.

The Significance. In this preposterous extravaganza of modern life, Mr. Cournos has shot his shafts blithely over the whole universe. There is, of course, not much more than a suggestion of the famed original Candide. In fact, the foreword has Candide objecting strenuously to his reincarnation as the son of a pork-packer, Cunegonde worrying about what's going to happen, and Pangloss not quite happy at being made a bootlegger. But this blithe young grave-digger has exhumed their altered corpses with such obvious relish that one has not the heart to quibble with what he has dug up.

The Author. Born at Kiev, Russia, in 1881, John Cournos migrated with his parents to Philadelphia at the age of 10. He was successively factory-hand, newsboy, journalist, author: The Wall, The Mask, Babel. Living now in London, his recreations are: "Reading the Greeks and Elizabethans, watching the folly and wonder of life, playing with pebbles on the beach."

New Books

The following estimates of book much in the public eye were made afte careful consideration of the trend critical opinion:

ON THE LOT AND OFF-George Ran A dolph Chester-Harper ($2.00). pleasant picture of the cinema industry The as conceived by the average fan. hero, gifted with a winning smile, in fallibility, a flat stomach and gangl shanks, sells his services to "Magnificen Pictures" at an initial salary of on dime per week and progresses in nine years to the dignity of a divorce scan dal and his life-long ambition: "Isidor Iskovitch Presents." The story of his rise begins with the assembling of a $10,000-stake from Iskovitch uncles blessed with red beards and businesses of the varying styles to be expected from the name, and closes with million-dollar mergers, assisted by the flapper granddaughter of a finan cial magnate. Izzy marries the flap per, and the villain is shot-anonymously but most satisfactorily-dead. It is an enjoyable story by the late creator of Wallingford and Blackie Daw, but it falls, perhaps, somewhat short of the heights attained by those classic heroes

moods.

seven

THE MIDDLE TWENTIES-John Farrar -Doran ($1.50). Into this slim, trim volume, the editor of The Bookman has packed poems of infinitely varied There are elfinly humorous love lyrics, the brooding sombreness of a group called Portraits, War Women, and even one appalling trifle which concerns itself with a cocktail made by alcoholizing the bodies from Egyptian tombs:

"Plop!-and down you go!
After a cracked-ice shaking,
Into a stiff fat wife

Before a rich fat dinner.
Um-m! What a curious flavor!"

THE BLACK HOOD-Thomas DixonAppleton ($2.00). Author Dixon blandly and bravely prefaces his story with the suggestion "to the five million members of the new Ku Klux Klan that they read this book." A tale of the original Klan in the days following the Civil War, when it was ordered dissolved, it breathes all the mysterious and sinister significance of the "Invisible Empire," and swirls the reader along with it under its exciting black hoods and white sheets. It stops by the wayside to terrorize one dark-skinned Julius Caesar, self-styled "Apostle ob Sanctification," known to his rivals as "dat slue-footed hypercrite." But most of the time, horses gallop, blood flows, hero rescues, villain pursues, disguises disguise-all in the author's most approved manner and with the technique developed in his Birth of a Nation (cinematized by Griffith) and The Southerner.

John Trotwood Moore

"Jackson Was the Greatest Man America Has

Ever Produced"

There is something overwhelmingly appealing about the old type of southern gentleman. When such a gentleman is a scholar and a politician, the combination is well-nigh irresistible. Such is John Trotwood Moore, delegate from Tennessee to the late Democratic National Convention. He is the author of several novels and many stories of the South. The Bishop of Cottontown is being made into a motion picture by the Metro Co. The Old Cotton Gin is well remembered. Mr. Moore is slender, wiry, fervidly Democratic. His hero is Andrew Jackson (of Tennessee), about whom he has just written a novel. Since I have lately finished collaborating on a play about the same gentleman, I found immediately a common bond.

"You come over to my hotel and I'll show you Jackson's marriage certificate," said Mr. Moore. "Jackson was the greatest man America has ever produced, the greatest President and the greatest General. We need a man like him in the White House today, a man who understands the needs of Labor, man of the people."

a

Naturally I made no attempt to discuss politics with Mr. Moore. We had chosen different periods in the life of the fiery President for our efforts, so we could compare notes without coming to blows.

Mr. Moore is one of those picturesque figures that one misses when one stays too close to New York City. Polished, courtly, yet positive, he exudes romance. His very address-Granny White Pike-speaks volumes. He was born at Marion, Ala., in 1858. In 1885, he moved to Tennessee. In 1905, he began to edit his own magazine, Trotwood's Monthly; then he joined Robert Love Taylor and called it The TaylorTrotwood Magazine (1906-1911). Since 1919 he has been Director of the Tennessee State Library of Archives and History. Among those documents to which he has access, he has searched in an effort to reconstruct the character of Jackson. He has found him gruff, tender, the duelist, the fighter with pistol, with sabre and with politician's eloquence; he has found him rough-mannered and sentimental, eager to defend the honor of women, a devoted husband, a sorrowing widower. To me, Jackson represents, as he does to Mr. Moore, something that is very deep in the inheritance of the U. S.-something common and strong. Before Jackson, the Presidents of the U. S. had been aristocrats; with him, the heart of the U. S. came into its own. J. F.

Tolstoi in Opera

Thousands of quarts of pitiful tears, one may safely calculate, have been loosed by readers who have followed the misfortunes of Tolstoi's hapless Anna Karenina, although they fill nearly a thousand goodly pages. Further lacrimal inundations are imminent, for the bearded Russian novelist's masterpiece has at last achieved its grandoperatic setting.

The composer of the new opera is one Igino Robbiani, of whom little or nothing is known in the U. S. Is the musical taste of the Queen of Italy to be trusted? If so, Robbiani deserves to be known, for after the première of his Anna Karenina at the Teatro Costanzi, Rome, she invited him into the Royal Box and complimented him effusively. A distinguished Italian critic, Federico Candida, used the following somewhat confused expressions in describing the music: "Accentuated, even excessive, passion-evident research-sacred fervor-rich harmony-harmful sonorityheavy orchestration-exuberance and defects-character and distinction. . . ." One may wonder about the esthetic fitness of entrusting so indelibly Russian a theme as Anna to an Italian. Why did not Tschaikowski try his hand at it?

In Paris

Mozart, having been a Salzburgian Austrian and therefore an enemy alien, suffered a grievous lapse in Parisian popularity during and after the War.

From this lapse he has just recently recovered gloriously. Paris had two Mozart festivals, both in the beautiful Theâtre des Champs-Elysées. The first of these was the venture of the Vienna Opera, complete with orchestra, singers, scenery and Herr Direktor Franz Schalk. It was part of an "official tour." Six operas were presented. There was no "modernizing," but the strictest possible adherence to the purest Mozart traditions. Herr Schalk accompanied sections of the Don Giovanni on harpsichord, that ancient ancestor of the pianoforte which Mozart himself loved for its faint and delicate tinkle. Restraint and sobriety characterized the whole set of performances—and the language used by the singers was German. Paris did not object.

a

The second festival was under the

direction of Monsieur Walther Straram, who had recruited his forces from Italian, French, American and other sources. Mme. Ganna Walska was patroness and guiding spirit, and the costumes were the last word in sumptuousness. The language was Italian.

In Munich

In Munich, a performance of Richard Wagner's Walküre has been broadcast -but not by radio. Subscribers only "listened in." Their regular telephones had been hooked up to the transmitting microphones in the National Theatre through the central exchange. An invention devised by one Dr. Steidle was responsible for the feat. This provided for automatic interruption of a subscriber's music whenever a regular telephone call demanded his attention. Inasmuch as the reproduction was free from the "static" disturbances common to wireless communication, it was found more satisfactory, as well as more exclusive, than radio-music. The experiment was conducted by the Bavarian Federal Ministry of Posts, Telegraphs and Telephones.

ART

Cézanne Monument

Scarcely a painter in all the history of Art has been so vilified, so passionately abhorred as Paul Cézanne (18391906). The salons were closed to him; his private exhibitions were succès de scandale; through connivance with the heirs, the Louvre managed to avoid owning the three paintings by him in the Caillebotte collection.

But History's repetitions prove that after excessive hostility one may expect unreasoning cult. Certainly Cézanne has passed through these phases; he has been the sanctified father, rather indiscriminately, of all the post-impressionist movements. Now he is fast becoming "good form" among the hidebound conservatives. No museum would dare to be without a Cézanne. In Paris, a retrospective exhibition of the artist's work is on view at Berheim Fils, Place de la Madeleine, with an admission charge to swell the fund for a proposed monument to him. It is encouraging to know that the artist engaged to achieve the monument is no less than the eminent sculptor Aristide Maillol. Said Paul Cézanne, son of the painter, when asked what his father

would have thought of having a monument: "I think he would have preferred to have another picture in the Louvre."

"Sick in the Head"

Munich has been the scene of a bitter engagement between those ageold foes-Radicals and Conservatives. The Minister of Education took advantage of a recent law (retiring government officials about the age of 65) to oust six conservative professors from the Academy, including the Director, Karl von Marr, Americanborn. Said Professor von Marr: "These ultra-Modernists are mentally afflicted. They are sick in their heads, and the more I see of their work, the more I become convinced of the fact. Most of them are incapable of learning the simple mechanics of drawing, so they splash their canvases with every color of the spectrum and call it inspiration." The many, many people who subscribe to the sanctity of tradition-in-Art have rented a studio for von Marr so that he may continue to teach them. The six professors, as one man, declared that "it makes no difference whether an artist is 65 or 25. A young man may express a musty spirit in his work, and the older man one that breathes the ardor of youth." Von Marr reversed the usual order of things, for he emigrated to Europe to seek his fame and fortune, and became the first and only State-employed professor of painting of American birth in Germany. Some of his paintings hang in the Munich Kunstverein.

Reciprocity

A sort of reciprocity scheme to give immediate and efficient help to artists in distress in Vienna has been put into practice and is said to have proved a success. A number of influential citizens have combined to guarantee a certain sum a month, each one contributing 300,000 kronen (about $4.20). "This money is to supply artists, who in exchange are bound to place their work at half pricefixed in mutual agreement at the disposal of the members of the Society. The money resulting from sales is used to pay back the amount obtained by the artists, as far as it is not covered by the works that have passed into the hands of the creditors. If a profit is realized the artist gets a certain percentage of it, while the rest is set aside to form a fund covering inevitable losses. It takes from the artist the care of daily existence, giving him the opportunity of selling his works at reasonable prices to a circle of amateurs, who become especially interested in his art."

New Plays

Ziegfeld Follies. The general impression from the current revue is something like this:

Colorful ranch scene, with Lupino Lane, English comedian, blown through the stage floor and doing some eccentric comedy with Tom

WILL ROGERS

Too much with us?

Lewis, in shooting raiment from off a girl.

Will Rogers as a rural Senator in Washington.

Lupino Lane and Ann Pennington in a sprightly Bimini dance, with the Tiller girls kicking higher than ever.

Will Rogers in a skit on Congressional investigations.

Striking Ben Ali Haggin tableau, with Evelyn Law and Lina Basquette killing dull care with more dances.

Will Rogers throwing ropes.

Uproarious comedy about the piano next door, with Lane and Edna Leedom bounding and bawling in it. Will Rogers.

Of course, there is the customary sumptuous offering of girls, arrayed and arranged with all the extravagant care of a window display. There are tuneful revivals by Irving Fisher of Victor Herbert hits, including the quaint march of the soldiers from Babes in Toyland, and novelties such as the Tiller Girls dancing skilfully in prosphorescent lights as they skip rope-while one makes private bets as to whether the ropes will snarl up. But the general feeling is that

Ziegfeld could present a somewha better show, if Will Rogers would l him.

Shooting Shadows. A comely lad and her husband have designs upo the pocket-book of the inevitab handsome millionaire. She falls love with him. Can she go throug with the blackmail scheme? Of dear, no! Following a series of u bewildering circumstances, the mi lionaire fires a shot. That start things going. The "mellow" dram gets a bit over-ripe and oozes "god ily" about the stage. The audienc becomes pained when it ought t laugh, laughs when it ought to quak with fear. Needless to say the lover are eventually left free to thrill o another with unrestricted mush with out further discomfiting the audienc Percy Hammond: ". . . It is a ter rible, childish, discouraging mess Summer has come."

The Blue Bandanna. Hitherto young Sidney Blackmer in his play has been considered as working unde wraps. His voice has been subdued he has seemed as though weighe down under affairs of state. Now i his latest thriller he is actually work ing under wraps. He bears aroun with him probably the largest ward robe in circulation on the stage. H has so many costumes they amoun to a supporting company.

Yet he is not smothered under thi burden. Curiously enough, flinging on and off garments for the rapi changes required by his dual rol seems to arouse him. Compared to his earlier, discreetly-modulate nuances, his voice rings out with clarion call. His acting is much mor virile, he seems stimulated by hi snappy-clothes-for-mystery-men.

Mr. Blackmer seems to have bee led to assert himself in order t energize this new play. A mystery melodrama by one Hubert Osborne it is the direct antithesis of the piece in which Blackmer has lately bee appearing, most of which have bee decorously whispered behind th hand.

The action is based on the com plications resulting when a wealthy clubman happens to resemble double-dyed crook. The star, darting in and out of both rôles with versatil ity, droops his mouth and alters hi voice to distinguish the two char acters for the benefit of the audience Jewelry is stolen, the wrong man nabbed, everything is cleared up with the help of a sweet young girl de

tective, played by Vivienne Osborne in -the charming manner of a Vassar undergraduate.

But Blackmer's repertoire of modish suits is a whole show in itself.

Her Way Out. The heroine (Beatrice Terry-niece of Ellen) has er been, in her earlier phases, a demimondaine, running a house of illrepute in New Orleans, but only doing so, we are led to believe, because no other honest work offered. Renouncing that life, this mysterious woman of apparent breeding takes charge of a fashionable salon in Washington through which certain predatory interests seek to make Congress dizzy in its judgment. -0 When the charming hostess meets vigorous, upstanding Senator Norcross (Edward Arnold), representing the militant farm bloc of the West, her fascination induces him to give up his bill to nationalize the railroads. But she makes the fatal mistake of falling in love with him. Forced by his proposal of marriage to relieve her troubled conscience by disclosing her past, she does so via a vivid flashback of the cinema brand. Here she is shown shooting down a white slave procurer to save an innocent country-girl from the usual fate worse than death. Her senatorial lover, faced with marrying her and losing his career, insists on marriage, but she is about to solve that problem with a powder, when

Try it with Alice. A childlike, paltry attempt to make a hero out of a female impersonator. It is set half a century hence, when Congress is represented as having passed a law making marriage compulsory, and making this pseudo-farce permissible. Two young men, to evade the law, go through a marriage with one of them posing as a woman, and- But why go on? The play does, but a review an always stop. One Allen Leiber, brother of the famed Shakespearean ictor, Fritz Leiber, wrote the piece. That only shows what little influence Shakespeare really has today.

The Best Plays

These are the plays which, in the light of metropolitan criticism, seem most important:

Drama

COBRA-The spirit of the red light district discreetly modulated to a suave pink, but drawing the eyes just the

same.

THE WONDERFUL VISIT-A stimulating if talky play in which an angel dropped from Heaven shows that the world is too much with us.

Comedy

THE SHOW-OFF-A pungent exposure of the type of man who is always with us, and whom even this incisive satire cannot destroy.

BEGGAR ON HORSEBACK-Satire mingled with rollicking burlesque, as the scalp of the tired business man is lifted and the inner workings of his brain revealed.

EXPRESSING WILLIE - A dexterous dissection of those who pursue Art only with their tongues, in which the author uses the scalpel gently but firmly.

MEET THE WIFE-Showing two husbands very neatly who is the boss around here.

THE POTTERS-A typical American family, humorously naïve, finding that oil is a good lubricant for family rows.

THE GOOSE HANGS HIGH-Benevolently allowing the children to visit their virtues, instead of their sins, upon their parents.

Musical

Summer is the accepted time for musical comedies. Best relief from warm temperature can be had at Kid Boots, Charlot's Revue, Keep Kool.

CINEMA

The New Pictures

The Enemy Sex. This renovated version of Owen Johnson's novel, The Salamander, shows how times have changed, for the book in its time was a sensation, dealing as it did with girls who dared everything in order to accumulate a little experience. Now it seems like just a modest little evening at home, compared to all the Flaming Youth's that have lately tried to set the screen on fire. In order to put novelty into it, the heroine is made to say, with the pertinacity of

a parrot, "I'm a good girl; I expect a man to make one mistake-but only one." Betty Compson, looking her prettiest, is probably so wellbehaved because the picture was directed by her future husband, James Cruze. The story of this girl, angling for a husband among various flirtatious business-men, gathers headway slowly, as respectably riotous films often do. But it is true to life in that the girl, faced with marrying the man who has wealth and position to give her (Huntly Gordon), or the man who has nothing but his drunken habits (Percy Marmont), chooses the latter.

The Code of the Wilderness. The old West may be changing, but it continues to find locations in which to grind out the ever-trustworthy story of the girl from the East, with her conventional prejudices, brought into collision with the handsome man of the great open shirt-fronts who knows only the law of the gun. It is easy to foresee that the girl, with her strait-laced notions about the dastardliness of shooting even in self-defense, is herself going to be faced with the problem of killing a man, before her brain clears. Then Alice Calhoun feels free to love John Bowers, though he claims three murders to his credit. The photoplay is not bad for its type, though an outstanding feature is the utter absence of juries after each homicide.

Recoil. Psychology, which now and again finds a place on the screen, gets in some of its best work here. In this film transcription of Rex Beach's story, an American girl, forced by privation to become an adventuress, marries a wealthy man for his money, deserts him and seeks love with a crook. The avenging husband forces them to live together, threatening to expose the woman for bigamy, and then, as propinquity causes them to hate each other, the fight begins. Betty Blythe (in a blonde wig), Mahlon Hamilton and Clive Brook show some very human reactions.

Those Who Dance deals with the horrendous results of drinking illicit hooch made in the U. S. under the filthiest of conditions and tagged with some of the most expensive-looking foreign labels. But it is not a temperance lecture-its moral is put over too painlessly for that. Behind it is an occasionally effective melodramatic structure wherein a man of society, joining the Federal Prohibition forces because of the death of his sister, dons a disguise that would actually mislead the sharp-witted breed, the bootlegger, and succeeds in laying low Demon Rum. Blanche Sweet, Bessie Love and Warner Baxter stand out in this film.