"1111i GREEN CORD " AT THE ROYALTY THEATRE. THERE are
said to be sixteen distinct melodies in the world and about six stories. But of plays of British rule in the East— India or Hajiristan—there is but one. It is nearly always running at some London theatre or other under some name or other. The present version of this venerable institution, which I will call " British Raj," is neither better nor worse than its predecessors. There is a strong, silent man who, under cover of anthropology, is really a secret service agent. There is his ingenue wife, who thinks that he does not love her because he will neither take her with him nor give up an anthropological expedition into the hills, nor rescue the female friend who had been abducted by tribesmen. Of course, the anthropological expedition was really organized on purpose to rescue the lady who had been abducted by the tribes, and, of course, the villain took advantage of the strong and silent one's absence to make love to the ingenue wife. Of course, the strong one came back just in time, complete with stolen lady and purloined map. Of course, the wife -wondered how she could ever have doubted him. So did we. Our gloom was only modified by some rather picturesque black gentlemen and a rather handsome bladk
tent interior. TARN.
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