Half smothered behind the albaline that was fast obliterating his heavy black moustache and eyebrows. Groucho Marx, the most brittle of the four "Animal Crackers" now playing at the Shubert Theatre, hissed invectives against New England in general and Massachusetts in particular. It was all on account of the recent "Strange Interlude" controversy, a propose of which Groucho said: "Yeah, Quincy's a sore throat: and Boston's a pain in the neck." He pointed out that behind all this "preposterous censorship" were not the Lowells and the Cabots and God, but the Caseys and the Kellys; however, he added, "the Cabots and that crowd are so scared of a left wing that they won't go near one, even if it's on a chicken."

"I often wonder," he told a CRIMSON reporter last night, "why Harvard University doesn't take more of a hand in the matter, why it doesn't try to prevent that gang of low politicians from making this city the laughing stock of America: but," he added, after a contemplative pause, "I guess Harvard's got troubles enough of its own with its football team."

By this time, Groucho's make-up was completely erased, and, after he had donned his horn-rimmed glasses, he looked a strange mixture of the legal and the professorial. One would almost have decided that there wasn't a trace of the typical actor about him until the eye paused doubtfully at the spectacle of pleated trousers.

"As for our own show," he continued, "the censors were very kind. They were probably all drunk the night they came to see it."

And that remark seemed to switch his mind to prohibition, and he murmured bitterly: "Do you know what the trouble with prohibition is" Every one in America is so busy drinking they don't give it a thought."