of approaching cold weather, they wore only faded blue cotton uniforms with a red band around the right sleeve. In addition, each man carried a Chinese umbrella.

General Feng's troops are pledged to abstain from "drinking, smoking and loose living." Their battle cries and marching songs are set to hymn tunes. Their favorite song, which, when translated, is said to be "most bloodthirsty and obscene," is set to the tune of Onward, Christian Soldiers.

There are two fronts in the present war (TIME, Sept. 8, et seq.): One in the North where the SuperTuchuns Chang and Wu are contending; one around Shanghai, between the Tuchuns' Chi and Lu.

North. No decisive fighting took place in the northern theatre of war. Both Wu and Chang made extravagant claims for the future, none of which could be taken seriously. Movements of troops were reported on both sides. Air-force units were active.

Tuchun Chang requested the British and U. S. consuls to warn the Nationals in the war area that he was engaged in a life and death battle and could not stop at "half-measures." He suggested that foreigners leave the area, as he found himself unable to afford them adequate protection.

Preliminary fighting between the Chang and Wu factions was reported, but the strict censorship imposed obscured the details. The clashes were, however, unimportant. A great battle was expected in the early future.

Shanghai. The third army of Tuchun Lu, defender of Shanghai, revolted, went over to the enemy. Lu said it was unfortunate but not necessarily disastrous. He withdrew his troops from positions around Lake Taihu and fell back upon positions outside Shanghai.

The troops of Tuchun Chi made desperate attacks on Shanghai, which continued to hold out despite all predictions of utter defeat. Foreign correspondents with the Chi army said that the fall of Shanghai was only a matter of time, as Chi had a greater and better-equipped army than Lu. One of the reasons of the failure of the Chi troops to defeat Lu decisively was said to be their erratic artillery fire. Terrific bombardments of the enemy lines were made, but as many of the field guns were fired like

FENG

Chinese Christian Soldier

howitzers, and as the timing of the shells was indifferent, the Chi troops were everlastingly being surprised to find that the Lu army was as firmly entrenched as ever before Shanghai.

South. Dr. Sun in the South continued to concentrate his troops but, as far as could be ascertained, no soldiers had been sent to aid Tuchun Lu.

LATIN AMERICA

Arms

Following the failure of the PanAmerican Conference at Santiago, Chile (TIME, Mar. 10, 1923) to settle upon a plan of naval disarmament, South American republics began to arm, concentrating upon their navies.

Last week, a correspondent of The Christian Science Monitor gave a few facts about the naval armament race in the four principal countries on the South American continent.

Chile, in fear of Peru, has built and opened the largest dry-dock in South America for the purpose of keeping her Navy at the highest point of efficiency.

Peru, advised by a U. S. Naval Mission at Lima, has ordered a fleet of submarines.

Argentina, fearing Brazil, is contemplating a $200,000,000 bond issue for increasing the Navy and Army.

Brazil, whose Navy Department is also receiving the advice of U. S. naval experts, was said to be in the midst of the "greatest naval development in South American history."

New Books

The following books, economically, politically, historically or biographically related to Foreign News, have recently been published in the U. S.:

Father of Socialism

ROBERT OWEN-Frank Podmore-Appleton ($5.00). While the goodnatured world is smiling at Socialism, a book about England's first Socialist is particularly apropos. The British Labor Party owes its inception in no small degree to Robert Owen (1771-1858), for he was ever the staunch champion of the oppressed laboring classes. The book is a reprint, but owing to its opportuneness it will probably find many more readers than it did 20 years ago when it made its début.

Lord Long, Gent

MEMORIES-The Rt. Hon. Viscount

Long of Wraxall-Dutton ($7.50). Lord Long, better known in Britain as Walter Long, comes from a class that is known as the "landed gentry." In this book he reviews his career from the nursery floor to the floor of the House of Commons, which he not so many years ago left for the House of Lords. His career is not particularly interesting for the simple reason that Long is not a particularly interesting man; but his incidental descriptions of human society during the Victorian and Edwardian ages are full of point and show with remarkable clarity the recent growth of democracy in Britain.

Unheated History

Typewriter

Karsavina, impetuous Russian dancer, will open her American season in Baltimore on Oct. 31. She brings with her a novelty that has set London agog. As a bare-kneed flapper, she twirls about to the music of an entirely new instrument, the typewriter. The London Daily Mail registered almost incoherent astonishment, shouting, ballyhooing:

"Richard Strauss is one down! He never thought of the typewriter! Walk up, ladies and gentlemen, and see Karsavina dance to the accompaniment of a typewriter! It is simply the maddest piece of fooling ever seen on any stage. The sight of Karsavina is worth the money-Karsavina as a naughty American flapper, a young sister of Daisy Miller; Karsavina in a sailor's blouse, short, white serge skirt and bare knees. She is a naughty, enterprising American child of the European tradition. Not content with seeing the circus, the terrible infant must needs find her way among the performers. Hence the impossible-Karsavina dancing a cakewalk, Karsavina dancing to American airs on a typewriter."

But why not? Tschaikovsky himself once called for a battery of field

artillery.

Insult

"Mephisto," whose famed "musings" appear in Musical America, was irate last week, sensed an insult to all musicians in an item that appeared in a metropolitan daily, demanded that his friends, his co-workers be "given their due." Mused Mephisto:

"Notables in Every Walk of Life See Firpo-Wills Fight,' says a big headline in a daily paper. The sub-heading continues: 'Royalty, Society, Finance, Politics, Theatre, Pulpit and Plain People Mingle.'

"I protest. Why are musicians excluded from this generalization? Or are they included among the 'plain people'?

"I do not see any musicians mentioned among those present, but that was their affair. If they didn't want to go, there was no particular reason why they should. But what peeves me is that musicians should be ignored in this summary fashion. The headline might have read: 'Notables in Every Walk of Life Except Music See Fight.' Then no one could have complained.

"Musicians ought to stand up for their rights, nominal as well as actual.

"Is there a nobler profession? Are musicians not as good as other people? Do they not contribute as much to the happiness and well-being of their fel

lows as some of the classes singled out for special prominence in the heading I have quoted? Are they not often the guests of kings and queens?

"Then let them be given their due on all occasions."

Carnegie Undoomed

From F. P. Keppel, President of the Carnegie Corporation of New York, came an unqualified denial of the rumored imminent demolition (TIME, Sept. 22) of historic Carnegie Hall. This in spite of the undenied fact that the Hall make no money; that its profits are continually eaten up by necessary repairs and alterations.

Patroness

Seven years ago, Mrs. Frederick Shurtleff Coolidge* determined to indulge to the limit her craving for ideal music. She went about the matter with the lusty vigor that only an enthusiastic amateur can maintain for long.

She asked herself some questions: "What is the purest music?" "Chamber music," was the reply. She acted on it. She organized and maintained out of her own pocketbook a private trio of her own, the Elshuco Trio, and later a string quartet, the Festival Quartet of South Mountain (TIME, Oct. 8). Next, she asked:

"Where can such music be heard to best advantage?"

Obviously not in a great metropolitan concert hall; that would be too formal for the delicate tonal flowers of Mozart and Schönberg. Also not in a private drawing-room or salon; that would be too informal, too pink-tea-like.

Mrs. Coolidge, therefore, had built a special Temple of Chamber Music on the slopes of South Mountain in the Berkshires, near Pittsfield, Mass. It accommodates an audience of 500-just the right number. But

"How about this audience-isn't the usual audience a deadly thing?"

This final question was a poser, and, in her reaction to it, Mrs. Coolidge displayed something bordering on genius. Having carefully picked just the right music, performers and locale, she proceeded to pick her audience, and just as carefully. Seats at the Berkshire Festivals cannot be bought; they must be earned. To earn a ticket, you must

*Elizabeth Sprague Coolidge is a daughter of the late O. S. A. Sprague, wealthy Chicago wholesale grocer (Sprague, Warner & Co.), sister of A. A. Sprague, 1924 Democratic candidate for U. S. Senator from Illinois, widow of Dr. Frederick Shurtleff Coolidge. Recently, she built and endowed, at Yale University, a building used for concerts and lectures-Sprague Memorial Hall-in _memory of her son, Frederick S. Coolidge Jr., who was killed early in the War.

Though a New Englander, Mrs. Coolidge's husband was not closely related to the U. S. President.

be the right sort of person; you mu be a Person of Taste. It will he matters a little, perhaps, if you have a tained eminence in some pursuit oth than the musical or artistic, but if yo have not at any time demonstrated you possession of this one supreme requin ment, the possession of a golden, di mond-studded dinner service will n avail to win you an invitation to th Coolidge Temple.

The result of this momentous de cision, possible only to a Patron t whom the very expression "box-offic receipts" is in the last degree repugnan was that every gentle note release from a trembling string at Sout Mountain falls into each and every on of a thousand ears particularly bor and especially trained to appreciate it most delicate nuance.

This is the seventh year that th Chosen have assembled reverentially a Pittsfield to partake of perfect musica fare, served up in perfect dishes. There were three days of perfection.

First Day: The Festival Quarte (William Kroll, first violin; Kari Kraeuter, second violin; Hugo Kortschak, viola; Willem Willeke, 'cello) played Mozart's Quartet in F, originally written for the King of Prussia, and followed it with Vincent D'Indy's Quartet in E, an incredible, intricate thing based on a theme of only four notes. Finally there was the Bohemian Josef Suk's Piano Quintet, with Signor Aurelio Giorni distinguishing himself by his beautiful restraint at the piano.

Second Day: The entire morning program was dedicated to Bach. Harold Samuel, an English Bach specialist, who only recently left enthusiastic Londoners weeping for more after six Bach concerts, officiated at the piano. Georges Enesco did the violin parts, including a long and difficult unaccompanied Sonata, and a Scotch singer. Fraser Gange, sang two complicated arias-the first tender and elevated, the last turgid and wild, to match the fearful text, Gleichwie die wilden Meereswellen.

The afternoon was "All-American"and pretty poor. Two saccharine Sonatas, by John Alden Carpenter and Leo Sowerby (Prix de Rome incumbent) were followed by a Quintet by Samuel Gardner, entitled To a Soldier, which unblushingly sounded Oriental wails right out of Rimsky-Korsakoff.

Third Day: The feature of the final day was a Prize Composition. For Mrs. Coolidge also awards prizesformerly annually, now biennially (se) the composers can have time to write something really worth while). This year it was won by Wallingford Riegger, a newcomer. His composition was a setting of Keats's famous tragic ballad La Belle Dame Sans Merci for a unique combination of instruments. He demands two sopranos, contralto and tenor voices, a violin, viola, 'cella double-bass, oboe (interchanged with

English horn) and French horn. Mr. Riegger, a graduate of the New York Institute of Musical Art, conducted it himself; and Mr. Charles Stratton sang the sorrowful knight's part with the necessary forlorn feeling.

There was also Schönberg's "flighty and gossamer" Quartet with voices; and finally, by way of ice-cream soda to finish the feast in lighter vein, Beethoven's settings of "Scotch" and "Irish" songs, including Sally in Our Alley.

CINEMA

The New Pictures

Feet of Clay. When Cecil de Mille and his friends get whirling around "society's playground," the unfortunate observer can fortify himself with only one reflection. He is watching motion Probably pictures at their worst.

Mr. de Mille would reply that he knows his is a dime novel edition of the social register but that is what the people want. If the people want it, they certainly get it in the first part of Feet of Clay. By the time the characters slip into purgatory, society's playground is ploughed for miles around by the difficulties encountered by a woman in selecting one husband from two suitors. Somebody thereupon dies; and the story over into "another world." From this point forward, matters improve; and the improvement is in no small part due to ideas originally sketched to the world at large by Sutton Vane in Outward Bound.

moves

Captain Blood. Sabatini, it seems, is God's gift to the silent drama. He is a glutton for Romance, leading the present field of doublet-and-hose designers by several hundred thousand copies. He is so good at this sort of thing that his yarns must inevitably make sturdy cinema matter. Captain Blood is another pirate argosy. A young Irish physician embroils himself with King James and is sold into slavery to a West Indian planter. While pirates are looting the town, he leads a sortie of slaves, out-pirates the pirates, and sails away to become a buccaneer in his own right. The lovely Arabella, niece of the planter, thereupon turns against him, and there is considerable dramatic dredging to be done before the course of true love again runs smooth, Warren Kerrigan buckles and swashes diligently in the title part to excellent effect. Jean Paige is a distinct optical advantage. The explosion of a pirate galleon is the most engrossing single shock.

New Plays

The Ritz Revue. About once a season or less, there trudges into town a revue that scorns comparison. Usually it is The Music Box. Though that estimable entertainment has not yet made its entry, there are a good many people willing to wager right now that

ROGERS

He mimics a mimic

it will not even jar The Ritz Revue on its presiding pinnacle. The Ritz Revue is by 20 or 30 laps the best revue in

town.

The artificers who put the piece together (chiefly Hassard Short and Al Jolson) reversed the usual process. They started with humor, gorged their program with it and then turned their attention to music, dancing and color.

Taste domineered. There are no tidal waves of gorgeousness washing about the walls. The sets are small, the color cunningly conceived, the effect brilliant. The chorus is limited to pretty girls, each with a dancing specialty. Madeline Fairbanks (a Fairbanks twin) was their commanding officer. Tom Burke and his more or less grand opera voice managed the more important music.

Charlotte Greenwood, the skyscraping comedienne, collected the fullest gusts of laughter. Raymond Hitchcock, usually in monologue and at one point in his underclothes, was as of old. Pri

marily important, however, was the return of Jay Brennan, who will be recalled as the partner of boisterous Bert Savoy. He has a new partner, one Rogers, who has assumed the clothing, voice and mannerisms of Savoy. When the votes were counted, the assembly had voted him almost as funny.

The Greenwich Village Follies. John Murray Anderson equipped his painting staff with riot guns and trained the batteries on the scenery. The result was what is so very often known in discussions of musical revues as "a riot of color." There is another type of riot that is referred to, usually in the advertisements-"a riot of fun." As a riot of fun, The Greenwich Village Follies is one of the most depressingly orderly exhibitions that has arrived this fall. There are various interludes that are devised apparently for the promotion of laughter among the visitors. The visitors failed to laugh.

Here an exception must be made. There is a pair of comedians connected with the festivities, Moran and Mack by name. They were funny. They were so brilliantly and devastatingly funny that they easily ran away with the show. They are black face. They have long been popular in vaudeville. Unfortunately they appear only twice.

The high spots were the Dolly Sisters and the twisting strains of Vincent Lopez's band.

Izzy. When Abie's Irish Rose appeared (a play which last week reached its 1,000th performance in Manhattanthe only play beside Lightnin' to achieve this distinction), it will be recalled that the critics held up their hands in horror; right-minded people refused to go; authorities predicted dire things of witnesses who could enjoy it. Abie has had numerous imitators, of which Izzy is probably the best.

Izzy is frankly a Semitic entertainment, divulging how an aggressive Jewish youth can rise to the top of the film industry in something less than no time. He makes a promise to his uncles in the first act. And, lo and behold, in the third act his promise is fulfilled. . . .

Schemers. The most enthuisastic single flurry of applause that greeted this strange production on the opening night welcomed the entrance of a character in the play-a theatrical critic, A. Wood Brown by name. The applause volleyed from a single pair of hands which upon investigation proved to be those of Heywood

*Boisterious Bert Savoy, famed female impersonator and Captain of the team of Savoy and Brennan, had an unending stock of anecdotes about a certain friend of his known as "Margie," which he delivered in a most babbling, flirtatious manner. He died in July, 1923, struck by lightning at Long Beach, L. I.

Broun, critic of The New York World. The other critics sat more stolidly in their chairs and watched their effigies burned among the ruins of a singularly tedious display.

My Son. When the son turned out to be a thief, the mother turned out to save him. He was in love with a flapper whose heart resembled cut glass. The mother was in love with Felipe Vargas from the Azores. The Sheriff also loved her. The family were humble Portuguese; and the locale, Province

town.

From this blueprint, the playwright, Martha Stanley, contrived to set up a creditable and generally interesting structure. Most entertaining was the contrast of the Latin temperament against a New England background.

The Best Plays

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

Drama

COBRA-Spectators have been stirred these several months by Judith Anderson's display of the snake-charmer charmed by the snake.

WHITE CARGO-Souls dry-rotting and flaking off before the withering loneliness of Africa.

WHAT PRICE GLORY-Strong men, strong words, strong drink as the Marines knew them close to the trenches.

CONSCIENCE-A patchily important play energized beyond itself, thanks to a magnificent performance by Lillian Foster.

RAIN-Edward of Wales paid Jeanne Eagels the conclusive compliment of seeing no other actress or play.

THE MIRACLE-Still weaving its medieval mystery in the gloomy cathedral fastnesses of the Century Theatre.

Comedy

THE SHOW-OFF-Wherein the low brow and the loud mouth are satirized with the keenest scalpels of the showshops.

FATA MORGANA-Emily Stevens and the Theatre Guild are daringly diverting in a Continental love story by Vajda.

EXPRESSING WILLIE-SO successful a satire of modern youth and his artistic temperament that subsidiary companies are about to branch into other cities.

THE WEREWOLF-In which just about everything is said out loud on a subject usually reserved for whispering.

Musical

Some have persisted from last season; some are new; all are good: Ritz Revue, Kid Boots, Rose-Marie, The Dream Girl, The Passing Show, I'll Say She Is, Ziegfeld Follies, George White's Scandals, Stepping Stones, The Grand Street Follies.

Ireland's Darling*

Being Blind, Great Raftery Knew More than He Heard

The Story. Strong and dark and young and all blind-Great Raftery went the length and breadth of Ireland

DONN BYRNE

Kindly and brave

in Queen Anne's day. He made songs for the people and songs for himself of his love for them and for Ireland. Before usurers and poverty had fallen upon the country, the Rafterys had been fine folk. No man lived to call Great Raftery other than an Irish gentleman. No tap-house, farm cottage, hall or castle but hailed him as Ireland's darling and had bed, board and homage for him at any hour.

Great Raftery came upon Hilaria, a small Spanish woman, and he making a poem at the Galway dockside one sundown. The Welshman Daffyd Evans of Claregalway passed like another shadow between Raftery and the sun when Hilaria, who one night sang a song of the harlots of Cadiz, said she was of the Welshman's house. Being blind, Raftery knew more than she sang.

Raftery and Hilaria were married, with a street woman and a beggar to witness; and Raftery spared the Welshman of his dagger when the cringing misshapen scoundrel would have spread the past like a blight over the newly wed couple. They went out upon the open roads to County Mayo; and when she made her confessional, telling of her eagle heart and her childhood's hard

*BLIND RAFTERY-Donn Byrne Century ($2.50).

usage, Great Raftery laid aside his ha and caught her to him.

A frayed but punctilious sergeant; rough highland boy, with teeth like trap and a knife, a yellow tunic a yellow kilt; a harp with "I am t Queen of Harps" graved on its fro pillar, the Red Hand of Ulster benea and the maker's and singers' boasts b neath that-these are also in the stor

The Significance. To read th latest of Donn Byrne's books is to wal a quiet way by the sea in Ireland an among greening hills and over the wid ends of the earth, with a kindly, brav man whose talk is chiefly mellow remi niscence. Because he thinks of gon days and people that live no longer, h thinks simply. His telling is not con fused with detail. Because he is kindly and brave, he tells wistfully and with honesty of emphasis, without false pity for dead glories nor false praise for ancient virtues. Being Irish and a mel low man, he tells with rich gusto and whimsy, so restrained that their bursts give pleasure like that of finding a wild bird's nest or bathing alone in the sea or fully remembering an old, old song.

The Critics. The Literary Review: "In these parlous times of realism, Donn Byrne is the blade of green, romantic grass in a long, long stretch of sand. Baptize him 'Oasis' if you will."

The Bookman: "Byrne's prose has the languorous beat of a Keats sonnet."

The Author. Brian Oswald DonnByrne was born in Manhattan, with a long north-of-Ireland genealogy. From three on, he grew up on the family estate in Ireland, where he heard Gaelic and faery lore. His college learning he got at Dublin, Paris and Leipzig. In 1911, he began an editorial apprenticeship in the U. S. Until he wrote Messer Marco Polo, few guessed his genius. Lately Changeling, The Wind Bloweth and Blind Raftery have marked him as of the high company of true romanticists.

New Books

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

UNITY-J. D. Beresford-Bobbs Merrill ($2.50). Katherine was a poet; Louise was adept at watercolor painting; Emily played the violin. Katherine Louise Emily Willoughby had to rec oncile the talents, passions, ambitions of these people. So she adopted the in