Possibly people have not so much money to spend or to waste as the case may be. The Paradise Club in Regent Street has closed down; this Club was run on bottle-party lines and once took £200 a night. It has recently come down to £10 a night.
Probably the end of bottle parties is in sight. The September crisis spelt the doom of the big Clubs. Cut-price night clubs may transform the night-life of London. The New Embassy Club has already lowered its prices. The Femina will follow suit. Few will stand outside. Application has been made to reopen Ciro's on the new lines, Five shillings door fee will be the general admission charge on cut-price lines. (Most clubs have hitherto charged 7s. 6d. upyards) Whisky will be sold at 15s. a bottle, instead of 25s. and otlt@t drink prices will be cut in proportion. But war with the wine and spirit dealers may result from this move. The alternative is a complete "black-out" of a section of London's night-life.
All the ordinary functions of London are in progress or about to start. Yesterday we began with the Chelsea Flower Show in very bad weather which compelled Queen Mary to dodge the puddles and use her um-lirella, In fact there was quite a gale at times. The show itself is good though as usual full of contradictions—a China blue poppy, a spike lily just like a bluebell, delphiniums like hollyhocks, carnations like sweet-williams, The gardeners who exhibit are much cleverer in producing new and unusual shades than in describing those shades accurately. It is disappointing, for instance, to be told about a new orange - coloured rose and to find that it is in fact almost a scarlet, and to discover that the iris regarded by its grower as reddish in tinge is more nearly purpbrown. The ex-itor of a delight-collection of stocks shows one of the same colour as the iris, and he successfully describes it as "antique copper." That was a happy shot, not likely to be often repeated. One feels that the British Colour Council whose horticultural interests led it lately to give the names of flowers to a new season's colours, should now come to the aid of our gardeners.
Sir Jeremiah Colman—millionaire because he developed the tiny wild mustard flower, now (at 80) grower of orchids—has one of the loveliest stands. He has spent years breeding irom the wild plants that are sent to him from South America. When he finally produces a plant of rare colour and unusual shape, worth hundreds of pounds, he gives cuttings away to his rivals. He never sells them,
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.