the most notable are, 'Mestrovic carving the colossal toe of some Serbian Hero,' and Ricketts-and-Shannon,—the heavenly twins, as Robert Ross calls them,—in which Dulac has so cleverly mingled the spirit of Indian Art and English humour. We must not be ungrateful, however, for we have a drawing of the late Lord Kitchener showing his passion for blue china, and the unapproachable Sargent in Belgravia, among other good caricatures. All of these are done from memory, and the same is virtually true of such serious portraits as that of the Japanese actor Mr. Michio Itow, and Madame A.
Stage settings and costumes constitute still another departure. Dulac began by creating some fantastic rococo designs for Beecham's production of Bach's "Phoebus and Pan," in which the chorus was garbed in 18th century style, whereas the principals, remarkable for their bizarre coiffures, appeared in pseudo-classical costumes. This artistic diversion was followed by the setting for Maud Allan of an Egyptian legend entitled 'Khamma,' written by the gifted dancer and W. L. Courtney of the Fortnightly Review, with music for an orchestra of ninety men by Claude Dubussy, who has since collaborated in a
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