Books: Loping

INNOCENT BYSTANDING—Frank Sullivan —Liveright ($2).

Like most innocent and hence significant humorists of the printed page, Frank Sullivan makes no blatant wisecracks in public places. He is an amazingly quiet Irishman, just short of plump. His occasional spoken words make sense and everybody likes him.

Last spring, he wrote for the New York World an obituary for famed Nora Bayes, which ended: “I don’t know where she is now, but I do know that whoever is with her is having a swell time.” That applies well to Frank Sullivan, whether you are with him or reading his works.

Many of the pieces in Innocent Bystanding have appeared in Mr. Sullivan’s column in the World and in the New Yorker. He takes a news item, a musical instrument (the zither, for example), an actress, an animal or the income tax and starts telling about it. Suddenly the reader becomes aware that Mr. Sullivan has left the ground and is loping around in a most ridiculous ether.

Here is a specimen loping on the subject of Joseph Twiggle, dean of New York street cleaners:

Mr. Twiggle was in his study when I called. . . . There was a piece of ice autographed by President Grant in a glass case.

“President Grant slipped on that,” Mr. Twiggle explained. “Here’s a piece of snow that snow collectors have offered me a pretty penny for, but I wouldn’t any more sell it than I would sell my right ear.”

“Let me see your right ear, Mr. Twiggle?” I requested.

“Gladly,” said Mr. Twiggle.

The ear proved to be in none too good condition.

“I think you’re making a big mistake,” I told him. “I think the snow is worth more than that ear. You’d be a fool not to sell. After all, you’d have your other ear. . . .”

Other innocent lopings: “Won’t You—Pull Over?”, “Should Admirals Shave?”, “The Temptation of Anthony,” “The Origin and Growth of the Tiller Girls.”

Nobody of any importance will be annoyed if you put Innocent Bystanding in his or her Christmas sock or stocking.