Seldom have we seen a musical comedy so finished, so coherent, and so completely first-rate as "Mary Jane", which opened Monday at the Shubert Theatre. From the first scene on a New York subway train to the final embrace in an unbelievably romantic-looking arbor in Central Park, the action is logical and consecutive, accompanied throughout by peculiarly appropriate music. It was to be expected that the composers of "Wild-flower" would produce something worth while; actually they have outdone them-selves, for while none of the songs, with the probable exception of "Toodle-oo", is as distinctive or quite as catchy as "Bambalina" or "Wildflower", every single song is upleasing, and as we have said, appropriate to the scene in which it comes. The special music, such as "The Rumble of the Subway" and "The Flannel Petticoat Girl", is picturesque and effective.

The story concerns two job-hunting damsels, Maggie Murphy of New York and Mary Jane McKane of Slab City. Mass, who under the expert guidance of Joe McGillicuddy, become employees of Andew Dunn, Sr., but more particularly of Andrew Dunn. Jr. After this purely business transaction has been consummated. Mary Jane has plenty of leisure to make the most outrageous love to Andy, interrupted by occasional raids of a reinforced chorus, or visits of "old Frosty". Mr. Dunn Senior's office manager. Likewise, Maggie uses her opportunities to wind the obliging Joe around an attractive little finger. In the end, Andy, who appeared at first as a rather spoiled youth, emerges a finer, better specimen of manhood, due naturally to the effect of Mary Jane.

Stanley Ridges is unusually satisfactory for a male hero: often they leave a rather bad taste, but his performance is clean-cut and free from the sloppy femininity of which musical comedy lovers are guilty. His faithful retainer, Joe, impersonated by Hal Skelly, reminds us somewhat of Walter Catlett in "Sally", although he perhaps has not the latter's versatility. He gots away with some original stuff, and is really Irresistibly funny. His scenes with Maggie (Kitty Kelly) are among the best. Another member who adds a great deal to the general hilarity is Dallas Welford as Martin Frost. He is not on the stage half enough, but when he does come on, he is the center of attraction. We know a professor whose face gets red just before he explodes exactly like "old Frosty's", so we enjoyed the exhibition superlatively. Whoever conceived the scene where that dignified old sairap toach around on "Dandy Dobbin" was a master of comedy. And for that matter, the scene in which about a dozen of the chorus gambol in the costumes of a generation or so age, (we aren't quite suro how many generations), and some of the "boys" pose in an old-time daguerreotype was second to none we have ever seen. That tune, "The Flannel Petticoat Girl" emphasized the absurdity of the disguises somehow, with the most wonderfully rollicking rhythm, while those caricatures paraded back and forth, encore after encore.

We purposely left the ladies to the last, according to the order of climax. The best singing was by Eva Clark, accompanied by the chorus,--and speaking of the chorus, it is an unusually well-selected one. It danced with grace and precision, in a few original figures, and thoroughly pretty, colorful costumes. We are not partial toward choruses; ordinarily we much prefer to have them stay off-stage entirely and leave the principals alone, but this chorus is an added attraction. Hal Skelly dances well, as does Mary Hay, who plays Mary Jane, and does everything else well too, but it is the Keene twins who carry off the Terpsichorean Laurrels. They danced like dry leaves before a breeze, and suited their name in every respect; we didn't see half enough of them. Those two and Mary Hay made an awfully big hit with us and indeed they were super-brilliant flashes in a show of more than ordinary brilliance.