Prokofieff at this time, it may be more apropos merely to say that I would
rather see and listen to his opera than to the entire repertoire of the
company put together. This is not criticism, but a prejudice in favor of
fantastic lolly-pops.



NOTES FOR A TRAGEDY


Jan Pedlowski came home yesterday and found that his wife had run away.
There was supper on the table. And under the soup plate was a letter
addressed to Jan. It read, in Polish:

"I am sick and tired. You keep on nagging me all the time and I can't
stand it any more. You will be better off without me.

"Paula."

Jan ate his supper and then put his hat and coat on and went over to see
the sergeant at the West Chicago Avenue police station. The sergeant
appeared to be busy, so Jan waited. Then he stepped forward and said:

"My wife has run away. I want to catch her."

The sergeant was lacking in sympathy. He told Jan to go home and wait and
that the missus would probably come back. And that if she didn't he could
get a divorce.

"I don't want a divorce," said Jan. "I want to catch her."