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fritillarr Magazine of the Oxford Women's Colleges
DECEMBER, 1926 CONTENTS Page
Editorial • . . The Playhous On Hearing an Old Ballad on the Gramophone .. Burst Bubble .. Christmas .. Feminine History.. .. Night Express
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4 4 5 6 8
Page
Adam .. The Cinema The Gardener .. .. The School of Princesses .. News in Brief from the Women's Colleges .. Games Notices .. Inarticulate
9 to it 12 13 13 16
Ebitorial
T
HERE are a number of varieties in editorial writing, of which the Categorical is perhaps both the easiest and the most entertaining.
Next term usually gives rise to the Barometrical, the Psychological and the Medical : and when all these are exhausted, there is, beyond the Practical, that joyful thing, the Personal, to be exploited : perhaps just before one goes down. Term is nearly over : a pleasant retrospect of bonfires and straight lines of mist cutting the garden's clear evening : of walking in delicious wet by the floods of Port Meadow : of wearing scarves and rough jerseys and sweet-smelling homespun : of the granular red glow of chestnutroasters in the wet and darkening streets : of colds, and the delights of bed and idleness and hot lemonade. This is, however, not quite so successful an example as one might have hoped : the really good model would not introduce food—from. Rabelais to Dickens and after, the snare of any catalogue writer but that of Messrs. Fortnum and Mason, who can do it really subtly.
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the Playhouse The second half of this term's programme was far more interesting than the first ; the four plays have embraced an astonishing variety of subject and treatment, in Restoration comedy, Strindberg, Tchehkov and a modern play produced for the first time. It was a pity that ' The Jealous Wife ' drew such poor houses ; the play was long drawn out, certainly, and so a little tedious, but in it Miss Virginia Isham as Mrs. Oakley gave her best performance this term, and Miss Veronica Turleigh's speaking of the epilogue was a triumph of grace and technical skill. It was, indeed, the best thing in the play. Miss Turleigh has a certain lively quality in her acting, a refined brilliance of tone and gesture, that fit her entirely for such parts as that of Lady Freelove; however successful she is in more modern plays, I cannot but regret the becoming affectations and languishing curtsey of her seventeenth century manner. ' The Spook Sonata' was the most discussed play of the whole term, and, from the point of view of experiment, it was certainly the most interesting. Oxford sat up and took notice, and we read several panegyrics by leaders of New Thought, with the result that the majority of us began to mistrust our own judgment, and shamefully avoided giving an opinion. Mr. Armitage in the Oxford Magazine preached dramatic revolution : he spoke of Strindbergian simplification, of the paradoxical importance of giving subjective values objective importance, and of Noel Coward's technique of movement. There were two columns of it. But beyond the sense of mystic awe which Mr. Armitage's criticism evokes, it was of little help. Plays of this type have not yet become acclimatised to the English stage : they suffer in translation, and, as in ' The Spook Sonata,' verge perilously on the ludicrous. The last act would have done well as parody : it was a travesty of all the psychological Russian plays that have preceded it. It was hardly to be expected that the whole audience could take the blood-sucking cook, and Mr. Byam Shaw bleating ' Music ! Music ! ' in reply to remarks about counting the linen, in really good faith. Besides, a very large proportion of the public prefers its psychology and didacticism between covers, or anywhere but on the stage. The frame of mind necessary for the audience of ' The Spook Sonata ' is not that of the playgoer ; it is that devout and introspective attitude required of the faithful at public worship and self-examination. However, dramatic prejudice aside, there was some fine acting in the play : Mr. Elliott Seabrooke as Old Hummel was remarkable for his impotent vitality, and Mr. Henderson Storie for his quiet and penetrating efficiency. The production, too, was excellent ; Mr. Fagan is to be congratulated on the admirable changes both of scene and atmosphere.
FRITILLARY After Strindberg, Tchehkov was a relief. ' The Seagull ' was a vigorous performance, and the players, with two exceptions, acted intelligently. Miss Margaret Milne as Nina gave an impression of acute inexperience, while Miss Rosemary Blackadder made the part of Masha so disgusting as to forfeit all sympathy, but the rest of the cast were good ; in particular I have a word of praise for Mr. Byam Shaw, who, being in a naturally suitable part, acquitted himself well. And Miss Turleigh's ear-rings, by the way, were a masterpiece. ' God o' Mud,' although enthusiastically received, was in many ways disappointing, and, from the author of so amusing a thriller as ' The Ghost Train,' not a little surprising. The subject of the play is not one to arouse sympathy in the mind of the civilian—it is far too removed from the familiar. As in the case of Miss Clemence Dane's last play, ' Granite,' the inhuman passion of a man for a piece of barren soil is a little outside our understanding. Besides, this particular play gave the impression of being sordid for its own sake, hopeless and awful for no apparent reason, and because of that it did not touch us very nearly. It was like Sean O'Casey without humour, and so the drabness and misery palled. The character of Iron Hawker was an exaggerated one, but even so Mr. -4 Elliott Seabrooke was not up to his usual 17 standard ; his restraint was good, but he k was frequently unconvincing, and died badly. Mr. Henderson Storie, superb in gesture and make-up, was just a little too repulsive, so that one simply could not believe in Mary's seduction. Mr. Alan Webb did his best performance of the term, and Miss Veronica Turleigh was as good as ever, but the surprise of the evening was Mr. Byam Shaw. Somehow it had never occurred to me that he might have a talent for low comedy, but he certainly has. He was really very funny ; he ought to relieve the ' Russian Student ' with the curate ' type a little oftener. As to the production, the rain was quite pleasant, and the quantities of water which came on the stage were intensely gratifying. My main quarrel with ' God o' Mud ' is that I felt it ought to have depressed me, instead of which it allowed me to remain quite callously cheerful from beginning to end.
M.L.
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en Fearing an Ci'Lb VallaO on a Gramophone A dark room, with the afternoon half done., The cloth still laid, the plates bestrewn with crumbs, A trivial talk that idly goes and comes, Like the dulled rays of the eavesdropping sun. These things remained : a silence, then a whirr, And suddenly a voice. . . . Light seemed no more ; The gloom was passion ; blood lay on the floor ; Within the curtains murder seemed to stir ; The shadow of a man in agony Moved at the door ; a haunted soul cried out . . . You moved the disc : we turned our chairs about And stared to see the cups still laid for tea. R.M.J.C.
leurst Ii3ubbie The day had started fresh and bright. It had been quite cold when Olivia awoke, but, instead of feeling the usual uncomfortable drowsiness, she seemed strangely awake, and got down in time to read the paper before breakfast. Generally she was late, and the servant had to pour out the coffee. The children were also happy. Olivia knew that she was loved by them, and she made herself especially attentive to their talk. After all, hers was a very nice family ; everyone noticed how well they got on together. She ran rapidly over the families of her acquaintances—she had few friends. Really, none of the boys were so gentlemanly as Raphael, and though Diana was not exactly pretty, there was something about her . . . While the children were at school Olivia worked. She was writing an article for Gardens, and that morning it seemed to go especially well. The bit about not minding mixing colours was quite original—she had never heard of the idea before. . . . The garden was lovely ; there was something very modern about it, especially with that huge mass of nasturtiums by the front door. . . . A friend of Michael's had said that it ' expressed Olivia.' Perhaps he was right. She really had done all the planning, though everyone had helped a lot, and they had all been so jolly about it. Olivia stopped work just before lunch. Three hours at a stretch was quite long enough : she had nearly finished, too. Conscious of her pleasure, Olivia allowed herself a deep contented sigh. Lunch was again a success. They laughed nearly the whole time. Olivia loved laughter at meals—meals were so silly generally. The afternoon was spent luxuriously on a sofa. She had two books on the ground beside her, and the cigarettes and plain chocolate were within easy reach. Olivia managed to get through two chapters of Ford's new
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book before she turned self-indulgently to Lolly WilImes, which, she vaguely felt, was being read. Just before tea the man called with new rose-trees. He. was a decent fellow and seemed to know his job. He stayed for half-an-hour and told Olivia about his allotment and his daughter in service.. Before leaving, he remarked that the nasturtiums were getting a bit faded, but he supposed she'd be putting in something else soon. Olivia watched him go out of the. gate, and she felt a pain above her eyes. Perhaps it was because she had stayed out so long. She went into the house and lay down on her little black-covered bed. Gradually she came. to realise that she minded dreadfully what he had said about the nasturtiums. People were coming to lunch to-morrow, and she had thought of asking the editress of Gardens to drive over for the day. They would all think her garden awfully dull—perhaps it was dull. Her father hadn't liked it much, and lots of people only said things to please her. Perhaps they were all not so fond of her as she had believed. She dragged herself down to tea. Diana and Raphael quarrelled, and Raphael said that he wished he were at boarding-school like other boys. Olivia felt terribly hurt. She had not sent him because he seemed so fond of home—and of her—and Michael had said that her influence . . . She looked pained, and Raphael sulked. The tea-dinner period was even worse. She tried to finish her article ; it read rottenly, and she tore it up. She had done that sort of thing before. To do something, she tidied her room. Everything wanted arranging ; she worked slowly and with bored thoroughness. Dinner was unfaceable, and she went to bed. The servant brought her some hot fish and bread-andbutter. Olivia felt better. She sent for the. Westminster Gazette and spent an hour reading all the small paragraphs she had skipped in the morning. And then—at 9 o'clock—she lay down in the darkness and longed for sleep. She was aware that she was thinking actively. It was her own fault—this misery. She could not tell anyone. She had decided long ago that always she must work out her own salvation. Everyone had to do it. After all, the nasturtiums did not really matter much. . . . Perhaps things would look better in the morning. How different she felt from when she had awoken. . . . Why did the nasturtiums matter so much to her? . . . After all, they were only a minute part of her life. . . . Olivia counted twelve o'clock before she felt comfortably dizzy. And she knew that, at any rate, she would sleep like a top.
Christmas Why are the candles lit so late? Hush, and speak low There is someone coming to Margaret, Coming across the snow. Set two candles at the window And two at the door, That he who is coming may find his way And never lose it more.
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FRITILLARY Set a light by Margaret, That he may quickly see Her soft thin cheeks and waiting eyes Among that company. The world is wrapped in a veil of frost, As it was long long ago When someone came to Mary, Came across the snow. Mary and Margaret both Waited on Christmas night, And set candles by the open door For their small sons' light.
A.C.
feminine lbistore I suppose social, sartorial and culinary—or, in a word, feminine— history is both the most entertaining and the most important variety. The most entertaining because it provides so completely detailed and so thorough an opportunity of escaping present existence ; an opportuniy first taken, perhaps, by the absorbing interest of reading that it was through consuming lampreys, peaches, and new ale that King John died ; and one continually nibbled by fancy-dress dances. The most important because it is the reality without which decoration could not exist : it is only upon the stomachs of men (I think I quote Napoleon) that the heraldic beasts on the arms of changing dynasties, the flags and the horses of war, can be tattooed in their fantastically prancing curves. For most ages such history has to be collected painfully, bit by laborious bit : here a tapestry displaying the dresses and the occupations of women, here a will showing what were the treasures of the times, here an ancient manual of etiquette. A contemporary book, giving within six hundred pages or so a resume of the feminine history of a whole era, is both rare and precious : and students of the Victorian epoch are fortunate in that, for this period, such a book exists. It is a manual for housewives, worthily named Enquire Within upon Everything' : containing information not only as to the foods and drinks of the nineteenth century, but as to Good Taste, Cookery, Evening Pastimes, The Law, Modelling Caves in Cork, Medicine, Choosing Baby's Name, Furniture Polish, Making Agreeable Conversation, and How to treat your Husband. . . . Never complain that your Husband pores too much over the newspaper. Think what Man would be without a newspaper, and how much good newspapers have done by exposing bad husbands and bad wives to the eye of the public . . There may be a good deal of justification for those who look back with regret on the Victorians, as being morally golden inhabitants of that materially auriferous age, for throughout this book one comes on evidences of the simplicity of their pleasures, the definition of their aims, the security of their ethics, and their constant desire of information for its own sake. It is for this last reason that one finds, inserted above the letterpress concerned with cookery, medicine, needlework or correct pronunciation, moral maxims and pieces of general knowledge, thus painlessly and almost un-
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consciously assimilated by a mind primarily inquisitive as to the domestic life : which might, almost without knowing it, learn, in a short space, that : The steam engine is a mighty agent for good. Some hours we should find for the pleasures of the mind. The sea is the heaving bosom of the world. Loose habits lead to tight bandages. Some female spiders produce 2,000 eggs. A husband's wrath spoils the best broth. A bird's nest is a natural egg cup. A cow consumes ioo lbs of green food daily. The fat man knoweth not what the lean thinketh. An honest word is better than a careless oath. The currant tree was introduced in 1533. And so on. It is both possible and fascinating to form a perfectly detailed picture of the nineteenth century life from the assumptions and the instructions of this book. ' Enquire Within' must have been eminently satisfying to the more timid and insecure type of mind which, certain, from the assurance with which other people behave, that there is one correct manner of life and action whose secret they know, desires minutely to be informed what that manner is, in order to experience a feeling of complete safety. This book laced it securely into rather rigid mental stays which were, without doubt, of the smartest shape—perhaps to the secret envy of the present, stayless physically and mentally, bulging here and there with a redundancy of unsuccessfully attempted thought. How much better to be tightly contained in the knowledge of the right mode of living in a house with a husband and annual children. The house could be furnished without heart-burnings or dissensions of taste : you knew what was right, even to carpets, of which the, most truly rich, elegant and chaste are of one colour only : as for instance a Brussels carpet composed entirely of red, the pattern formed by shades or tints varying from the deepest crimson to the palest pink . . ; and you knew how to make all the incidental decorations, being instructed in ' making ancient cities or famous modern buildings in cardboard, making skeleton leaves, crocheting antimacassars,' transferring patterns of the hand-painted effect' to cushions, preserving seaweed, and diaphanie, or making imitations of the richest stained glass, to which, in some respects, they are even superior.' Secure then in your ordered house, you lived in a faintly Biblical atmosphere agreeably mixed with that of cookery, all your actions guided by this Victorian Leviticus : in cleanliness, because ' how refreshed, how cheerful and agreeable does one feel on being washed and dressed, especially when these have been long neglected. Superior cleanliness sooner attracts our regard than even finery itself, and often gains our esteem where the other fails ' : in restrained conversation in general, admirably alarmed of vulgar exaggeration, and ruled in particular by such maxims as ' Do not say " the weather is very hot," but " the weather is very warm " : instead of saying " I sweat," say " I perspire " ' ; and ' Avoid such exclamations as " God bless me," " Upon my soul," " Good Lord," etc., for they are vulgar, and savour of impiety' ; and in general by a law that feminine language will be easy and unstudied, marked by a graceful carelessness, which at the same time never oversteps the limits of propriety : in politeness, because you should ' behave, even in the presence of your relations, as if you felt respect to be due to them.' You were submissive to your husband, who was undoubtedly ' A gentleman and at all
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times affable, diffident and anxious to please : intelligent and polite in his behaviour, was pleasant and graceful : gratified with the delights of affection, he rejoiced to see the pleasures of society' : and you ruled your children, at whose christening ' the dress of the parties attending was demi-costume, but the infant was robed in the choicest manner possible,' but who, nevertheless, were trained not to care for outward appearances. Even in amusements you knew exactly what to do, for ' among the most innocent recreations of the fireside there are few more commendable and practical than those afforded by what are generally termed Acrostics, Anagrams, Arithmorems, Capping Verses, Conundrums, Cryptographs, Enigmas, Logogriphs, Rebuses, Riddles, Transpositions, etc.' : and card games such as Pope Joan, Loo, Whist, and Speculation could also be played under the sanction of rule. On the whole, the assumption seems to be that you stayed at home most of the time : nevertheless, you were properly equipped for brilliant social occasions, with recipes for dancing Quadrilles, the Barn Dance, the Caledonians, and the Circassian Circle, and also for ' the two grand modes of making your conversation interesting : to enliven it by recitals calculated to affect and impress your hearers, and to intersperse it with anecdotes and smart things. Count Antoine Rivarol, who lived from 1757 to 1801, was a master in the latter mode,' so it was obviously the course to be followed, only too probably along a path of puns. Thus one lived in perfect, calm satisfaction, knowing exactly what to eat, to do, to think, and to say : what were the moral qualities one ought to, and probably did, possess : one's mind replete with little poems dealing with subjects from living down scandal and saying ' No ' to drink, to making puddings and mixing salad-dressings. There was a sweet safety and content in this knowledge. A definite choice in living existed : one obeyed moral precepts with conscious virtue, or one rebelled against them in romantic vice. The one type, perhaps an ethical reaction from the rampant romanticism of the Regency, wore the correct mental clothing against the void of space and thought, and pursued a rut indubitably leading to heaven, a rut full of well-cooked meals, agreeable recreations and the marvels of science. The other had scope for an intense rebellion, biting against an admirably hard morality, a child cutting its teeth on coral, and, in a time of clear contrasts, audibly ringing the little bells of delicious, wicked defiance. R. O. H.
the Might Cypress Only the moonlight falling There on the steel, Only the distant drawling Sound of a wheel ; Then a sullen humming, and a thrumming, The night-wind drumming the wild oncoming Of the iron-clad king of the road, A single eye starts golden to sight As the mighty one sweeps out of the night ; His kingly ire flares up in fire, And the breath of his toil in a ffierie coil Is flecked with a ruby light.
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With a scornful swerve he rounds the curve, Comes swinging into the. straight, And a jet of spark streams up in the dark— A sign from the king elate. His triumphal cry leaps up to the sky, Blares out like a trumpet blast ; With his black flanks bounding, his deep voice sounding, His great heart pounding, pounding, pounding, The iron-clad king of the road Is passing, passes, is past. . . . And there's only the moonlight falling There on the steel, Only the distant drawling Sound of wheel.
Warn (With acknowledgments to the THE
Isis.)
This week we'll talk about the all-absorbing topic of clothes, shall we? And Res Academicae should have precedence, shouldn't they? So p'raps we ought to wait till after Convocation (or is it Congregation?), 'cos D.C.L. gowns are so much more amusing, don't you think? But really I must say as I walked down the High I noticed that some of the gowns were just a teeny weeny bit too ragged—for clothes do make the man, don't they? Only the dons wear mortar-boards, which is such a pity, isn't it ? As they can be so becoming, showing off a manly profile to perfection. Often the shirt has nothing to do with trousers-and-coat (regarded as a suit), and there should be continuity of ideas even in matters sartorial, shouldn't there? With a suit the colour of chocolate biscuits, the shirt may be made to suggest the coffee that we drink with them at the Super (a superlative idea). Again, these bright-coloured suits may be toned down with a black shirt (unless we do not like Il Duce)—black china is so effective in an orange room, isn't it ? Then why not make evening dress more usual? Even when dining in college or going to the cinema it will look distinctive. Don't mind if the man behind you whispers to a friend, ' Too starchy, old man. I couldn't wear it for anything.' P'raps it needn't be worn on the Fifth of November, when it may show the law or tendency of Diminishing Returns. But one must decide early in life whether to dress for Eve, or one's men friends, or oneself. Some are born clothed (or seem to be, don't they?), some achieve clothes, and some have clothes thrust upon them. By the way, I have heard rumours that a hair-dressing club for men is going to be started. Not one of these coterie affairs, but a big club— anyone who has any hair will be admitted. It seems odd with so many hairdressers in Oxford that there shouldn't be lectures on the subject, doesn't it? One will now be put in touch with lotions, electric treatment and massage—things that before could only be faced by the brave. We hope that this will materialise, and that members will dress appropriately.
G. ff. P.
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Zbe Cinema Since the last issue of Fritillary we have witnessed several revivals which profit more from a supplementary showing than from a supplementary review. The Gold Rush ' was the brightest feature of a week's programme, which included also The Bat,' We Moderns ' and The Bilberries.' Of these, The Bat' is good of its type, and not so trite on the screen as it would be in a novel, but the acting is completely conventional. Jewel Carmen, particularly, seems to have modelled her every gesture on an iron conception of the heroine of a mystery, sublimely indifferent to any peculiar demands made by this special mystery. We prefer to forget ' We Moderns,' but we are still haunted in unhappy moments by the upturned and streaky face of the reformed post-war flapper. Colleen Moore makes the worst of a very bad part, and the film is unsurpassed for flagrant improbabilities and views of English life which are so continually fatuous that they cease to be comic. The humour of The Bilberries ' depends more upon the faces of Long and Short than upon anything else in the film. For the rest, it is knockabout farce, well acted and well photographed. The Torrent' and The Atonement of Gosta Berling' both profit by the beauty of Gretta Garbo. The Torrent' emphasises more her perfections. This is a good film, with an ending unusual on the screen and very probable in reality. The sepia tint of the film was a pleasant change, and suited the shadowed effects in a garden. In The Atonement of Gosta Berling' Gretta Garbo's charm is merged in the qualities of a film much greater than The Torrent.' The photography and production are excellent, but the film suffers from an utter lack of construction. The material for at least two films is thrown into one, and thrown haphazard, so that for twenty minutes one watches a procession of characters apparently unconnected engaged in occupations apparently irrelevant. In bad films the story is frequently so clearly presented that one resents the mental effort necessary to overcome the confusion in a rare production such as this, but even the loss of the delicious passivity which seems part of the cinema is repaid by the exceptional quality of the film. The De Forest Phonofilms are in every way unfortunate. The sound was such as one endures from a very bad gramophone, and even were the device perfected, the most that one could hope for would seem to be a poor imitation of a stage play, eliminating most of the individual virtues of the cinema. Syd Chaplin in ' Oh ! What a Nurse' may be amusing, but female personation grows a little wearisome. Charlie's Aunt ' tripped over her skirt often enough, surely, to satisfy the average craving for that sort of thing, but the foggy atmosphere of the Super last Monday may account for a somewhat warped view. It must be admitted that Syd Chaplin acts with zest, and at moments with humour. It must also be admitted, and no less deplored, that Mary Pickford acts with zest. Human Sparrows' is interesting as a completely bad film. The tense horror created by a close-up of a swamp and several photographs of a gentleman with a limp who looked like an unsuccessful attempt to realise a Cruikshank caricature might be vaguely funny ; but after the first entry of the heroine the film becomes simply disastrous, all possible interest being subordinated to the repulsive personality of the world's sweetheart.
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' The Cave Man ' is improbable but amusing. Marie Prevost always looks decorative and is a finished actress. She is particularly good when petulant. The minor characters are very well cast, and Matt Moore makes a most attractive coal-heaver ; it is a pity that high life should have intervened to restrain his aptitude for expectoration, but it gives him an opportunity for a convincing representation of that unlikely ' beast in broad-cloth.' The photography and grouping of Rosenkavalier ' is excellent. It is a film most pleasant to look on, with effective lighting, charming dresses and a complete lack of paste-board scenery. The acting was entirely in keeping with the elegant background. This is easily the most finished production of the last three weeks. One wishes that it could be called typical.
the Gardener I think the gardener does not know How rough and kindly to the ear His voice comes through the apple-trees He all unknowing talks below, And yet, To few is given such power to please. My room is filled with yellow light, An amber flame, October light ; Chrysanthemums are gay to fill The earthen jar upon my sill ; And orange curtains, too, and brown, Make glad my eyes when I look down And, peering through the apple-trees, Behold the gardener, hands on knees, Sitting upon the barrow's edge, Smoking and staring at the hedge, And watching, as he sits and talks, The boy who sweeps the leafy walks. O Gardener ! I could spare your toil, And labours with the patient soil, But not your voice, Which, coming through my window, weaves A harmony with fallen leaves, And apple-trees with branches bare, The smell of bonfires in the air, Pools of sunlight on the floor, And robins round the tool-shed door. MARGARET LANE.
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the Zthoot of Princesses PRESENTED BY THE ST. HILDA'S PLAYERS.
Even the fact of its being a translation could not conceal the inanity of this play. I. had not before met with any examples of Senor Benavente's work : but from this I received the impression that he was only too sincere an admirer of Anthony Hope, and deplorably assiduous in his flattery as to plot, though not as to wit. The play was not typically Spanish : indeed, one felt that it was written by a man steeped in the romantic traditions of the dramatic conventions of Esperanto, belonging to no particular country, but believing in the fascinations of all royal families, especially imaginary ones—a faith for which it is hard to receive grace. It was a great pity that so bad a play was chosen : for there was a good deal of talent shown, both for acting and for staging. More especially the scenery of the second act was charming, and the lighting effects were always good. The make-up of Princess Constanza (Miss Emilie Toumaniantz) was a triumph : one must congratulate whoever originated, and carried out so successfully, the brilliant idea of modelling her on Number 12 of Max Beerbohm's Studies in Guelph, The Young Princess.' It was quite admirably faithful in resemblance. Her acting was also thorough : she presented the romantic young female to the last perfection of hysteria, having a good foil in the quiet and decorative performance of Princess Felicia (Miss Janet Irving), who had one of the few grateful parts in the play, and who behaved with a careful and delicate and, perhaps, rather acid restraint that was very satisfying. I was also struck by Miss Marjorie Webster (the Duchess of Berlandia), who, faced by an almost incredible part, was so successful that at times one believed in her reality. Her slow, stout movements were pleasant, and the disposition of her hands when she sat showed a talent for minute characterisation ; altogether hers was one of the more gratifying inventions of the evening. Amongst the minor characters I liked Miss Olivier's Prince Silvio, though he was, perhaps, a little Oxford,' and his voice was pitched rather too high •' his general eff ect was, however, charming, especially when combined wit h the finished performance of Miss Audrey Falk, a very efficiently flirtatious Ambassadress of Franconia. Prince Albert was also pleasant— but what can one do when faced with a part full of such sentences as : My little princess of dreams, why could you not have learned to wait?' However, the play teaches the perception of a platitude, which is always maturing : one now knows why the Bench speaks of ingenuity worthy of a better cause ' so often ; it is the only phrase.
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FRITILLARY
13
1Rews in 16rief from the women's
Colleges The Home Students are very glad to have Miss Burrows back and in health again. Somerville made a presentation to Miss Penrose of a watch and a tea set. They are very sorry for her approaching departure. St. Hugh's has formed an English Club, to which all members of the English school belong automatically. Miss Seaton has consented to act as President this term. The first formal meeting was held on November 16th ; Miss Buckhurst read an amusing paper on Icelandic Folklore. The St. Hilda's Dramatic Society produced ' The School of Princesses,' by Jacinto Benavente, on Friday and Saturday, November 26th and 27th. The St. Hugh's. Debating Society decided, in a joint debate with St. Edmund Hall, against the motion that ' The right to die is a corollary of the right to live.' The Home Students produced three one-act plays on November 3oth and December 1st. The series of lectures given at St. Hugh's in aid of the women's colleges' appeal fund terminated, after a very delightful lecture by Miss Joan Evans on the ' History of Jewellery,' in an equally fascinating one on ' British Somaliland ' by Miss Perham.
games ilotices O.U. WOMEN'S HOCKEY CLUB.
Captain—J.
DARLING.
Secretary—T. Treasurer—D.
HARDY. PULLIN.
We are fortunate in starting the season with seven old ' Blues.' Of the Freshers the most promising are J. Bain, J. Stopford and M. Robbins, who have played for United this term. We have greatly missed M. Kilroy, who has so far been unable to play in any match ; but we hope to have her playing again next term. L. Stave has proved herself a useful substitute. We have played two matches this term, and have yet to play Chelsea P.T.C. We beat Cheltenham College 6—o ; in spite of the weather and the state of the ground it was quite a fast game. The match v. Oxford Etceteras resulted in a win for Oxford, 5—o. The forwards are quicker on the ball and are good in the circle, but there is still considerable room for improvement in their mid-field play. P. Scott, who played left-wing last year, is adapting herself well to righthalf. The backs and the goalkeeper are good. The probable team is as follows : G. Sheppard (S.C.), g. ; M. Prichard (O.H.S.), 1.b. ; D. Pullin (S.C.), r.b. ; J. Bain (S.H.H.), 1.h. ; J. Darling
'4
FRITILLARY
(S.C.), c.h. ; P. Scott (S.H.C.), r.h. ; M. Robbins (L.M.H.), l.w. ; K. Lloyd (O.H.S.), 1.i. ; M. Kilroy (S.H.H.), c. ; J. Hardy (S.C.), r.i. ; B. Stopford (S.H.C.), r.w. O.U. WOMEN'S LACROSSE CLUB. Captain—N. DEBES (S. C.). Secretary—A. GEDGE (L. M. H.). Treasurer—H. REINOLD (S. C.). Match : O.U.W.L.C. v. Brooklands, Manchester. Lost, 8-6. Team : g., *R. Shaw ; p., *B. Oldfield ; c. p., *A. Gedge ; 3m., P. Vincent ; r.d., *K. Smith ; 1.d., D. Hicks ; c., *M. Fisher ; 3h, *N. Debes ; 2h., H. Haworth ; ih. *I. Munro ; r.a., *H. Reinold ; 1.a., B. Drew. * Old Blue. We have been most unfortunate so far in having to scratch three matches, but the one that was played against Brooklands was a very good test for the team, and revealed both our good and bad points. It was a fast and very even game, and the whole defence played excellently, especially in view of the fact that they had two internationals against them. R. Shaw played very well indeed in goal in the second half. The attacks improved and combined better during the second half, but are all too inclined to pass straight into the opposing defence instead of well ahead, and thus many attacking movements are spoilt. I. Munro shot very well, but should pass in again at once when she receives a pass after freeing herself on the wing. The first year have produced some useful players, especially P. Vincent (L.M.H.), who has done very well at 3rd man, D. Hicks (O. H. S.), B. Drew (S. H. H.), M. Wilkinson (S. H. H.), H. Haworth (S. H. C.) and S. Marks (S.C.). Miss R. Ellershaw's coaching should prove extremely valuable to us, and we are most grateful to her for coming. N. DEBES. ,
ST. HUGH'S COLLEGE , HOCKEY CLUB. Captain—M. R. FOOKES. Secretary—L. L. STAVE. Owing to the usual Oxford weather we have not had many matches this term. The First XI was beaten by Milham Form 6-4, and drew with the Fairford Ladies 2-2. The Second XI lost to the Oxford Etceteras. Second XI io-4, but they were playing with many reserves. Twenty-four of the First Year have joined the club and are very keen members. The following are at present playing for the College FIRST XI.-I. Williams, g. ; *M. Fookes (capt.), r.b. ; *F. Welch, 1.b. *P. Scott, r.h. ; *T. Helps, c.h. • W. Reynolds, l.h. ; T. Stopford, r.w. ; E. Ratcliff e, r.i. ; *L. Stave, c. ; *WI. Murrell (vice-capt.), 1.i. ; *H. Gent, l.w. SECOND XI.—B. Roberts, g. ; M. Gray, r.b. ; D. Whyman, 1.b. ; t P. Martin, r.h. ; M. Kirby, c.h. ; P. Hatton, l.h. ; *P. Fulford, r.w. ; B. Mott, ; R. Chapman, c. ; K. Elliott, 1.i. ; D. Cocker, l.w. (*First XI colours. t Second XI colours.) Reserves who have often played : B. Aiken-Sneath, E. Tostevin, C. Havergal and M. Owen.
FRITILLARY
S.H.C. LACROSSE CLUB. All the matches have been scratched this term except one, v. Oxford Ladies' Club, which we lost xo-4. The team is : Leslie Jones, Phelips, Haworth, Hobhouse, Lace, Helps, Osborne, Mercer, Robertson, Stradling, Bone, Ratcliffe. S.H.C. First Netball VII has played three matches this term, winning one and losing two. The Second VII has lost one and won one. Teams : FIRST VII : Fulford, Havergal, Lacey, Leonard, Hall, Bone, Lingard. SECOND VII : Clark, Stradling, Barber, Todd-Naylor, Reeves, Hatton, Milner. SOMERVILLE COLLEGE HOCKEY CLUB. Apart from two Inter-College practice matches, we have only had one match this term, against Bedford College, London, which resulted in a win for Somerville by 6-3. It was a fast game, especially in the first half, and the forwards, with J. Hardy as centre, showed much more dash and more idea of combination. The defence on the whole was sound, but inclined to muddle and fiddle with the ball in the goal-circle. The First Year is not one of conspicuous hockey talent, but the numbers of Freshers playing is quite average. T. Hamand is playing righthalf for the First XI, and now that she is getting used to her new place is proving of great value to the. team. M. Boreham is a promising member of the Second XI. Probable First XI is as follows :—P. Sheppard, g. ; K. Kenyon, 1.b. ; D. Pullin, r.b. ; N. Debes, 1.h. ; J. Darling, c.h. ; T. Hamand, r.h. ; D. Gibbs, 1.w ; P. Clark, 1.i. ; J. Hardy, c. ; B. Sanderson, r.i. ; H. Reinold, r.w. SOMERVILLE COLLEGE LACROSSE CLUB. We have been unfortunate this season in the small number of Freshers playing lacrosse, but two of those who do play are proving of value to the team. J. Austin is a useful point, and S. Marks at 1st home shoots very well indeed. We are also glad to welcome several recruits from the hockey teams, who should be of great assistance to the Second XII. So far this term we have played one practice match, and one match v. Downe House, Newbury (lost 9-8). The catching and passing of the attacks in this match was very erratic, and the defence failed to mark their men, but the game hardly represented the best of which the team is capable. Ver y few practices have been possible this term owing to the weather, so that we may hope for great improvement in the future. Probable First XII is as follows :—M. Moffatt, B. Oldfield, J. Austin, J. Handley Seymour, H. Tomlin, S. Norman Butler, K. Kenyon, H. Reinold, T. Hamand, N. Debes, J. Darling, S. Marks.
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FRITILLARY
anarticulate Leap, lingering words ! Run, run, as fast, as joyfully As yonder birds In flight, who go so gallantly, Fleeter and fleeter, Sweetening yet sweeter The air that holds each golden tree In lovely immobility. R. O. H.
DUCKER OXFORD.
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