April 1935

240 " Apart from these details," he said, " the description is quite a good one."

And so we come to the Isle of Capri You have probably heard that sentimental ditty until you are sick of the sound of it ; but if not, let me tell you the story of the poor, passionate crooner and his unrequited love.

It was, he tells us, on the Isle of Capri that he met her, with the accent on the second syllable . . . Please note this accent business, because we shall want it presently . . . cap-REE. The meeting took place in the shade of an old walnut tree, beneath whose branches bloomed divers flowers. And very nice too. Our friend the crooner, a fast worker, soon got busy. He explained that he was a Rover and " could she spare a few words of love?"

This word Rover, by the way, has no connection whatever with the Boy Scout movement. It merely suggests that our gentleman friend was a bit of a lad—the sort with a sweetheart in every port—and it also provides a more or less useful rhyme to lover.

But the lady of Capri was not so capricious as to go gallivanting off with any old Cook's tourist who came along. On the other hand, she somehow refrained from slapping the amorous Rover's face, and contented herself with showing him " the plain golden ring on her finger."

But the sight of that wedding ring was, strangely, quite enough, and, in the last sad stanza we learn that " fate had not meant her for me ; and though I sailed with the tide in the morning, yet my heart's in the Isle of cap-REE." And so, the wandering minstrel having told his tale, we come back to the crab and the critic.

This time our critic comes out into the open—Mr. Compton Mackenzie—and he, commenting on this song, points out that :(1) Capri is pronounced CAP-ree, with the accent on the first syllable, and not cap-REE. (2) Though he once lived on the island, he never saw a single walnut tree there, and (3) Capri happens to be on the Mediterranean, which is a tideless sea. Therefore, when this Rover person says that he sailed with the tide in the morning, he didn't.

So, apart from these details, kindly supplied by Mr. Mackenzie, the song is quite a good one.

But isn't this going a little too far? Truth is a beautiful thing and so rare that one should not be extravagant with it. Cold facts are all very well in things like ready reckoners, but one would hardly look for them in a love song.