"Nice Little Cast."

The best thing was Bruce Mason's Coward, which was as fine as any caricature of a caricature can be; but all the principals were good, particularly Jo Pound, who sang with allure and was only handicapped by having to perform an emotional volte face at the end, Doreen Burton, really excellent, John Norman, and Joan Wollerman.

This was the sort of show the audience liked, and they showed it. The Egyptian Mummies were the most eye-filling spectacle in the whole evening.

Yes, even better than Carrad's girls, who, however, did pretty well. Carrad and Paul Taylor between them could hold any audience. Clark's ears shone pale, the ballets were a credit to Moira Wicks and the costumes to Doris Johannson, except that Scarlett's bosom had a tendency to slip. Tony Langley's ballet was apparently sheer agony to Tony and sheer joy for the audience, who found the tortoise-like way he crept round the [unclear: stage] as funny as the great leaps of any past Carrad ballerina.

And so to the big show; but first we must pass a complimentary word about the Duchess of T.D.F. and suite. In the past, the long pauses between scene-shifts have been filled by ragged "We see you's"; and the beautiful fooling organised by Jim Winchester was a welcome change.

The Duchess was particularly well chosen, and her proud and haughty face was admired from three levels of the Opera House.

Excellent, too, was Dicky Daniell's soothing voice.

The Sky's the Limit invited contrast with Meek's shows, and stood up to the test pretty well, despite obvious faults. Lacking the subtlety and intellectual standard of his shows, it was perhaps more easily understood by the audience for this very reason.