The Boston theatre going public may well now kill the fatted calf, since "Pierrot the Prodigal" has returned after an all too long absence, and once again is this jewel of French pantomime to be seen at the Hollis St. Theatre. In an age of such thoroughness of stage production and action as the present, where hardly a thing is left to the imagination of the audience, the reappearance of this play can be nothing but a great stimulant to everyone. Those personal powers of visualizing which have laid dormant in most of us are awakened to splendid things by the complete success with which Dame suggestion is introduced throughout. The subtle Frenchman who is responsible for this piece certainly did not regard his audience as ignoble or stupid, and honor is his for this count.

Delicate and dainty pantomimie will be a decided novelty for a great many of us, for what dumb shows we have seen are of the slap-stick, rough and tumble type which fill our vaudeville houses. Here, however, is a play in which a singular art has been carried to its height. We never miss the speaking, for we are absorbed in the delightfully foolish little plot and amazed at the grace of the whole thing. Pierrot's home and phrynette's boudoir furnish two admirable settings for an entire evolution of emotions and from nonsense to a tinge of tragedy, we are appealed to from a variety of feelings.

In the caste two distinct kinds of acting are noticeable. Paul Clerget as Pierrot's Father and Louis Gouget as Monsieur Le Baron reflect the traditional French ideas of pantomime. Nationality has its effect in this as in all other things, for no one could play these parts as they are played--with the possible exception of another Frenchman. M. Clerget is a really powerful person on the stage, and his abilities are not limited to a single field; he is light, amusing, and whimsical or serious, as the case may require, and in both moods equally fine. In contrast to these figures are Marjorie Patterson as Pierrot and Margot Kelly as Phrynette, who, although well adapted to their chosen characters, have an American, air about their work, which must mark it as unfinished. Miss Patterson has a tendency toward nervousness and exaggerated vivacity. Miss Kelly, on the other hand, while lacking technique, has a natural charm and piquancy which would assure her the audience's sympathy in any land.

The music is slightly reminiscent, without being flagrantly so, but is just the sort of orchestral accompaniment that is needed. There might be many small points of criticism, but taking them all together, they would not make even one valuable objection. There may not be a "high seriousness" in evidence, but there is a delightful tickling of the aesthetic senses. And so Aristotle might not have thought of "Pierrot the Prodigal" as the highest form of "kitharsis" but he would unquestionably have called it an ideal evening's entertainment.