"Step Lively," eighty-seventh annual production of the Hasty Pudding, is, from the standpoint of its musical strength, probably as fine as anything this ancient organization has ever exhibited before rows of happy patronesses. E. E. Stowell '34 and R. B. Moore '35 have the distinction of being amateur composers who have produced a score that not only sounds like something but has real swing and force to it. Shrewdly the directors of the production have realized this fact and little else in the way of plot, dialogue, or special acts has been attempted. Apparently any such additions would simply have served to lower the average.

The result is a somewhat one-sided piece of entertainment, relying mainly upon mass effects of enthusiastic choruses, attractive sets and costumes, and friendly faces. If the extensive roster of the Pudding includes any legalistic cranks, such members could probably spend the better part of next year suing musical producers for plagiarism, "You're in My Dreams," "Some Day Soon," "Hot Stuff," "Do It Now," ... the Playgoer predicts will be heard in part if not in toto at "the only country club in the United States without a name," but under different titles.

The lyrics range from a fost of polysyllabic rhyme schemes of which "ambidextrous ... supersextrous" is the acme, to less intellectual attempts of the "pirates bold ... days of old ... search of gold" variety.

Roger Hewlett '33, author of the book, did not go far afield for his plot. That it includes scenes "in the living room of Miss Caroline Porter's House," on board the S. S. Iambic (which provides opportunity for a pirate scene) and a Paris cabaret gives sufficient hint as to its nature. W. F. Draper '35 takes the feminine lead with admirable gusto. His blitheness and litheness put the local vanities and ventures in the shade. Between the acts it was embarrassingly difficult to distinguish between the genuine debs in the audience and the members of the chorus who were wandering around the halls. A piano specialty was perfectly executed, but more familiar selections might be suggested as more likely to entertain. A scene "Design for Living," haunted by the spirit of Noel Coward, was good enough to be enlarged upon. A. D. Cadman '35 contributed a brilliant bit as safari.

One significant which this year's pudding has revealed is that there is one more feat which defys the art of any Harvard undergraduate. A Harvard man simply does not know how to wear a form-fitting dress. But he can sing, skip rope, and as is most convincingly proved, he can sometimes write music.