"Paddy" has been subtitled "the next best thing," and it is truly the next best thing on the current Metropolitan program. Against the background of that baronial Ireland which his own plays made popular, Mr. Fiske O'Hara disports with his comely daughters, Janet Gaynor and Margaret Lindsay. All is a haze of moss, lichen, and the soft tints of old stone, with a plethora of brogue and much quasi-Irish sentiment, which is to say that "Paddy" is closely related to "Sweetheart Darlin'," and at a respectful distance from Synge and Lady Gregory. Warner Baxter is very rich, the Adairs are genteel but poor, and Mr. Walter Connolly is very poor. Everyone is in love throughout the play, but with different persons, and Miss Gaynor, the only communicative lover, is full of romantic mendacity, and cannot be relied upon.

The best thing is on the stage: an assembly of very aged and very competent variety stars of another day. Emma Francis, at 63, cartwheels fealty; and the composer of the St. Louis Blues plays that fine lament in the sole nonspecial arrangement. There are more, all delightful: unfortunately, there is also an impresario, who delivers a long and mandlin curtain lecture and is generally intolerable. Mr. Sevitsky plays Gilbert and Sullivan with spirit, there is a Popeye, but no Mickey Meuse.