Why, it is hard to say; except because it is episodic, because there is no halting climax, because it is homely in all its other characters, because it has not the broad sweep of a "Kismet," or the foreign flavor of a played play, or yet because it is devoid of an obviously poetic quality. All this is true, but what if it is? It is pervaded by the keen understanding of men and motives that has gone to the making of Mr. Turkington's value; it is touched with philosophy that conceals the mechanism of philosophizing; it is deftly pointed with wholesome humor; it is sparingly shaded with a pathos that aches for an instant, and it tells a human story. The story may be thin, fragmentary even, but it is credible and more than that, it is engrossing even though it is light. And it is high comedy.

Above all, it provides Mr. Skinnaway with abundant opportunity to lavish the grace of movement and of gesture, the rare and superb voice, the expressive play of mobile features and they wonders of his reading that form his technical equipment—all in a role adapted to display them at their height. All, except the enunciation that makes his reading of English a lesson in that art. For he plays an Italian organ grinder, and, of course, always with an accent. That in itself adds color to his lively picturesque playing and charm to his performances. 