Original Contributions

" 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.

24 1

Presently we shall have Mr. Mackenzie pointing out that Annie Laurie's neck was not a bit like a swan's, being several inches shorter, much further round, and quite devoid of feathers.

And what a terrible strain this is going to put on the poor American song-writer.

Let us take a peep into the office of some writer of these undying love lyrics. " Now I'll be damdiggled," says he, " If there aint no walnut trees I guess we betta do some recasting. I've gotta swell notion about pansies, but lissen, with this guy Mackenzie snooping round, we gotta watch our step. " So I guess you'd better get me a book on the flowers of Capri, and look 'em up to see if there is pansies. And say . . . while you are about it, better find out something about the local geology—in case me and this dame squats on a rock. See what rocks they have out there, if any. And another thing. Look up the birds. I wanna work in a skylark and . . . anyway, look everything you can and let me know. Better have a list of the steamboat sailings and the tide table, and something about the climate. And see if there's any waterfalls. And find out what clothes the girls wear out there. You never know with these dagoes."

You see how difficult Mr. Mackenzie is making it. Before long we shan't find the poet in splendid solitude, but in a large office, surrounded by a staff of experts; astronomers, meteorologists, geologists, ichthyologists, ethnologists, and etymologists, all ready to spill the beans about the habits, customs, stars, climate, and moonshine of any town, island, village, or country whose name may inspire our friend to rhyme.

Thus only can he be kept from falling foul of the critics. As if the poet's job wasn't tough enough already !

" ACCOUNTANT."

ebapel.

PREACHERS, EASTER TERM, 1935 :— Jan. 20. II Sunday after Epiphany.—The Headmaster. „ 27. III Sunday after Epiphany.—Rev. F. H. Barnby. Feb. 3. IV Sunday after Epiphany.—Music. „ 10. V Sunday after Epiphany.—The Headmaster. „ 17. Septuagesima.—Rev. F. H. Barnby. „ 24. Sexagesima.—H. J. C. Mackarness, Esq. Mar. 3. Quinquagesima.—Music. „ 10. I Sunday in Lent.—Evensong in York Minster. „ 17. II Sunday in Lent.—Rev. F. H. Barnby. „ 24. III Sunday in Lent.—School Confirmation by the Rt. Rev. the Bishop of Whitby, 3 p.m. „ 31. IV Sunday in Lent.—The Headmaster.