LETTERS WORTH READING.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 11510, 5 October 1915, Page 7

LETTERS WORTH READING.

A WOMAN- YvTTII WT. When ii. young girl, suddenly pro-i rided with .L'lOOlt. sets out to •'have, he.)' filing'' in Paris as long as the. money lasts, it may be expected that a whirl of wdyenturo awaits her. This .spending tho capital has h.-on tloiid before. Mj.ss Diana of Dobsoiv's oih U obtained a plmisant- little vo-t nianco; the young lad.v who met tlm Bo tor Chaperon added j>, line description of Holland to her love story, ami, '' The Salamanderwith Youth aS capital enjoyed.- adventures at high tern--petatiiro in New York. But nono ol these got outside their books. Thestt three are suggested, peculiarly, by, " Better All-Alone.'" by Meg Villars,, because this book is so different and] so, much better. It is written in tho form of letters to a, former chum, and; this gives Betty the advantage of boinp; intimate, daringly, delightfully inti-: male. She -writes to Jessie, and you: gather from the letters that Jessie i-f a dear prim plodder in a millinery csh tablishment, where Betty worked be-i fore :dlO went All-Alone. That Betty goes perilously near to dropping over a; precipice is only to bo expected, but, ultimately she marries happily and ro-i manticixllv. This, however, is quite the least important part of tho book., Betty, you quickly discover, has an im-i pertinent way of expressing some pet-i tinent views' on life in Paris, and these criticisms, coupled with her illuminate ing descriptions of her adventures, give you a, knowledge.of Parisian life, and later of New York life, which goes deepen- titan the surface. As a mat-, ter of fact, Betty in her girl-to-girl, confidences often becomes tinglinglv ins tiniate, and her letters delight in,rove-* lations of incidents and peculiarities of attire which cau best be expressed by. Betty's own term, " undies." Tho superficial is not for this discerning! little lady. But Betty is never im-i proper. The ice never breaks, though; it is often excitingly, thin. i Her descriptions of Bohemian life,* of a rehearsal in Paris, of tho ways of. the Parisian, are things to delight jn,, and it is only when sho reaches New York that sho adds an adversative tire; to the humour of her uncommonly, brilliant adversaria. Here is one sample, taken at hazard, and probably by, no means the best:— Ob, thoso " caburays"! Tha people think such a lot of thorn, audi yet they aro but grotesque imitations of tho Paris restaurants do nuit! Tho dresses, my dear Jess, drosses! 1 ] Most of them reminded ma ox Madamo Clotildo's Bayswater Road models! Cult I say more than that'/ Soma of tho Now York women are oven >voi,se than their English sisters in stripping for tho light. . . . When you are fresh over from Paris erne thing etartles you terribly—it's tho way the women* dance here. I was amazed! at the fat old girls who tucked up their frocks and gyrated madly, as pleased with themselves as tho most beautiful Parisian actress who ever commanded royal attentions. Even tho men who held them did not seem awaro that they might appear ridiculous. Tho authoress is evidently thorough ly familiar with her Paris, and loves it.-, This is evident throughout tho corres-: pondence. with its witty pungency and delightful drollery. Really, Jessio wa» extreineh- fortunate to have a corres-* pondent liko Betty All-Alone, and tho reader is equally lucky in being able to get these letters in book form tp the hours chase along in such charming company. (Whiteeoinbo and 3s 6d.) r

only wa-v to save his gsonl is confession. -Mrs VuucJiati: 7 rmei save your mow!. The child must ieive u i'utln'i'. Yiuiylnm : And yon—and EImY-'.' Mrs Viuichiin: Wu must suficc for your i);. Vniiginiri: Ami the congregation? And tliv conun unity And the- scandal tv tins Church Mrs Vans-ban: You should have, thought of ilia I, i )ef'>i e. Vim;fh»n: And shall I not think vjf it now? And the ribaldry of ffie masses? And llus. floutinii' of tln> orirans of Freethoupht? And tho k.-:s «if inith among niy llodi? And Mrs Vaughari: Duii't! Dcm't' Vfliip-liK.il: The drunkards ami tho drabs ■vvjio love mo inn! whotn. I love, and. whoai only my hand cau drog u]) from tho whore you would now cast; me! Mrs Vauglifl'T): Don't I te.il you Vautjhau: And God's v/crk undone—the work 1 am t brill in cr to do! Mrs VaugtiQii: You do Clod's work! It is a sacrilege. It is a long duel between this pair, and in it Zangwill takes up tlie bigger case" with vigorous earnestness. Vaughan: I am not thinking of privat-s pins, but of public sins, our commercial greed, cur organised injustices, our squalors and brutalities, our ghostly wars, «J1 the sores of our civilisation, all that goads us to ouy crusades. I telj you, Ilnnnah, the sins w* do as a. people so outweigh the eins we <lo na individuals, that I con.ld almost cry. Each man us lio' pleases, so long as the ration do right. Mrs Yaujrlian. Let each man do right, ®nti the whole nation is rigfliieous. Vaughan: Xot so. One unrighteous war may wreak mora misery than a, mvriad private crimes. Are there so many champions of national righteousness that you would paralyse this hand? At last desperate, Dr Yaughan decides, in order (o eav® his power for good, that ho will " go again through tho hell of falsehood and deny everything. '' Suppose I did tear open my breast to them," he says, "show them my spots and sores—would they understand ? No more than ycu understand. Tlie Salvation Army understands. iTiey. raise tho sinner from tho dust. But your respectable classes —ono stumblo and even,- foot, every hoof, is trampling on him. But they shan't! By heaven, they shan't! I will lie —as Mrs Morrow lied to protect Felicia." The solution comes through the motherly heart. Mrs V aughan is suddenly confronted with the news that John Archnmndh«ni) and her daughter - Eisio want to murry. If Sir John objected to Hubert Morrow on account of Felicia, he will object to Elsie on account of Dr Vaughau. She sacrifices herself to her daughter's happiness, but Yaughan, realising his position, decides to leave the ministry—to his crusade as a man among men, not as a saintly priest, a plaster saint. Throughout the dialogue has a strong ironical flavour, but it has the force of sincerity—tho speech of a man who is speaking that he may be heard and not merely listened to. Like Zangwill's other plays. '"'Plaster Sfaints" is published bv William Heineman, London (Christ-church: Messrs Whit-combe and Tombs, 3s). "Delta,"