111 if ' L--A MJk i LAST ull TTIIC—-iIIIT Hill ,_ fill LIIIO UUI lIUI , M , V, IiIVJII I J AnAlinfn nf Ml PnlHlvll fIT fll JIIUVYj wlllfllwll HI ill ° T ll2 new A 1 Read shoW at toe AdeI P hi - " Such is should be called " YOU Can't Have Everything. It has humour, beautiful drosses, girls galore—and a tumb- « .« m _„ _i «,w««9a ii.. a mitffnrt ling team who throw 9. girl about like live muttOXl, UMttes Diana Narracott. ■'■■> IT was a trouper called Jack Tripp who nearly tripped off with the show by the finest _m_ , guying of the ballet I have ■ ■ : - ■--. -■■.■•■■«•■ ■■ . seen. . IT HAS a girl called Shirley Bassey who nearly stops the show with a song "Who Wants TO Burn My At Both Ends," outraged brilliant Al Read himself. I could have done with more of his The Comedy Theatre, in dark' ness tar the past It months, rg- opened last night after a £lOOOOO face-lilt with new seats, '«• new carpets, netc decorations— '■ > and the strangest new play, writes Anthony Carthew. At least, the programme calls the play new, but" Morning's at Seven/' by Paul Osborn. was first presented on Broadway in l93 - It is an, odd piece of work, in which nothing happens quite pleasantly for two hours—just four old ladiee, three husbands, one son ' one chat- their American