NOW I LAY ME DOWN TO SLEEP

An extravaganza of a day that is past, a day for which Bemelmans recurrently betrays a wistful affection. The scene shifts from Biarritz, with clouds of war approaching, to Ecuador, via New York, luxury liners, tramp ships and river boats. In the Bemelmans round-up this is distinctly a "sport" — it certainly, in any round-up, fails to classify under any routine term. It is humor out of drawing, in caricature, and yet there is almost a tenderness in the very exaggeration of the portrait of the South American General, Leonidas Erosa, epileptic, gourmet, with his extraordinary retinue, and his peripatic adventures. There is Miss Graves, the ex-governess he had rescued from a watery grave, who still cherishes an urge to suicide and travels with her coffin. There is the homesick Indian, who takes care of the Great Dance and handles the General in his fits. There is the valet, the spoiled French chef, the majodomo, various mistresses and their acquiescent husbands taking their . A tale, which will sell on the Bemelmans' name —particularly with the impetus of BOM selection for March.