The Minneapolis journal., 1902-06-13
in A PERFECT PLAY
By RICHARD KANN

| then bring on your heavy Have him come
from the village where your heroine was born
and have him at once recognize her.
He is warm friend OF the hero of the
play and believes it is his plain duty to tell
the elopement story. Your strong dialogue
begins at this point. Have him argue with
the heroine that she ought herself to tell
him. Have her admit it, but hold that there
will be time to tell him after they mar
| ried; that if he is told now it may make
difference; that she won't give him up, she
won't, she won't! That's your second act
climax"
"And them interrupted Hartley. "have
the heavy as you call him, tell the story
to the real man and have him ask her about
it, Then have them part That's the way
the fourth act would be, wouldn't it?"=
No" said Buscoe solemnly. This man
and this heroine of mine have absolutely NO
family ties to consider. After the man had
been told about the woman there would be
a parting. That swould be the third act.
But in The Perfect Play both the man and
the woman would reconsider. He would seek
the woman out, and the fourth act would
bring them together, happily married.
"A play like that, you say interrupted
Hartley, |has never been written?''
''In plays that have that sort Of a woman
for heroine" explained Buscoe, usually
also the violataon of the social law has
woman must early come TO realize her folly
and feel a usual but entirely unwarranted
and exaggerated sense Of her rwronsdoing-
When she meets tie man, she naturally
breads to tell him. Well, never mind about
that. That doesn't get explained to the audi
ence until the last act, and then only from
her point of view in manner to excite for
her addition al sympathy"
Buscoe realized afterward that the ex-
planation of 1.-The Perfect Play" was about
the longest speech he had ever made.
Hartley was staring at him when he fn-
shed. - .-. .. .-.s
1--we got to tell you something, Buscoe."
he said. II couldn't tell you except that
you have told it to me Indirectly
yes" said Buscoe duestioningly.
''It happened to me-" Hartley began, Just
like you told it.. 1t happened here last sum-
mer. She came here with some people from
Davenport. She was a governess, the sort
that travels with people to Europe in the
winter. She was alone in the world. She
wouldn't give me any hope at ALL but was
sure she cared. Just about then it hap
pened. 1t wasn't a man that came and told.
but woman, a woman whom / had known
and who had known her.
He suddenly stopped.
"The next day she was gone
And you let her Co." said Buscoe quietly,
until she had gone where you couldn't find
her. And now you come back here in the
summer to hope and hope
For the last act,'' said Hartley sadly.
"only for that
In The Perfect Play" said Buscoe, 1.-The
hero sought her out, and the last act set
would show an exterior water scene, with
trees and a rising moon"
Hartley had grasped him by the shoulder.
water. ~ -=
"a young woman my wife has known for
long time"-Buscoe was talking to the moon
apparently-"grew confidential few months
ago. She is responsible for the plot of The
Perfect Play She thought the story would
make perfect playa and that with my help
she could write it, She told my wife finally
who the man was"
Hartley has grasaped him by the shoulder.
"You are the man, Hartley" Buscoe, was
smiling. ''She said you were here for the
summer. You see, she knew more about you
than you, knew about her So 1 thought that
as long as needed vacation might as well
come here and incidentally become acquainted
with you and your ideas about the fourth act.
Since you apparently agree, here is her ad-
dress" He peered by: moonlight into his
cardcase. II think. I shall be here about
two weeks longer he, went on serenely.
That's time enough for you to get back here
| on your honeymoon. This is the fourth act
| set by nature.