The Bennington evening banner. (Bennington, Vt.) 19??-1961, 1906-11-06
THE PLAY THAT
is NEVER READ
sequel Go tbs Advice Gives by a.
hHbefaat PLAYWRIGHT 10 . ifiead.
I.lsten. q you would know the story

you have known In his ragged days
That little book OF yours" he says;
1T has strong dramatic power, ORA
matlze Il. III tell you exactly how 10
gn about making II stronger and no
tells you.
Then he goes out Of town and stays
a couple OF months and comes back
and meets you again.
What are you doing with your
play?" he asks,
Nothing" you say.
Nothing" he shrieks. "and I have
promised that play 10 a real actress
for the first OF August"
whereupon you write tho play In
hurry. Then when you meet the play.
wright again you say TO him trium'
phantly. Il have written the play" and
having II under your arm you hand II
TO him.
"Um." says he. ''um. want TO read
this play. but am so busy now. You
should have had II ready a month ago.
Then | could have read II. but now
but now-wait. Wen see what we can
do will give you letter OF intro.
ductIon 10 producer know and have
him read IL for me. Then we will see
what we can do"
Armed with the play. you wcnd your
way TO the Office OF the producer. Tho
way leads up some staircases In
throug0 a little narrow door. up moro
stalrcases and into an anteroom.
In the anteroom are singers who arc
having their voices tried
You almost forget your play in fol.
lowing the fate OF these singers, but
by and by the boy In charge says to
you:
What is II. please?"
And you say. with some timidity:
Il have brought a play for the pro.
Queer 10 read and n letter OF introduc.
ton" whereupon the boy conducts
you high headedly into the presence
OF the producer who takes your play
and lays It in front Of him on the desk.
reads the note and says, with a win.
ming smile. combined with n pleased
glance at your tout ensemble that
somehow makes you glad that you
have one:
Il will read this tomorrow. Come
back the day after. Look around here
again. My. but you have beautiful
eyes!"
Flushed with pride and hope you
walk smilingly out ond down the steps
and through the little narrow door
and down more steps till you get to
the street. The world Is good! To.
morrow! Next day!
How beautiful are the days.
But above all how good of the gods
TO think Of giving you beautiful eyesl
On the day after you dress in your
Sunday best, though Il Is only Thurs
day, and once more go up the stairs
and In through the little door.
He looks at you in a puzzled way
for an instant. then says quickly:
"Oh! Your play. haven't read
II yet. There II lies on my desk. You
can see It hasn't been thrown in the
waste paper basket. / will read It.
will read 1t, / promise you, but give
me time. Come back next week some
time. Don't make II too long or
may forget. That's lovely veil you
have on. So becoming"
i He seems always to like your looks
somehow, and yet
1t is long time till next week, but
you wait patiently.
You go In again and stand before
the producer of plays. He recognizes
you.
What are you going to do to me?"
he asks. 81 haven't read It yet"
Let me read 1t to YOU" you beg.
You read very badly, often you
can't pronounce the words you write.
but it seems the only way to get the
play hearing.
Her smile brightens.
Good" he cries. That's what
I'll do. I'll let you read 1t to me-
will appoint day | will give you
an hour and half. Yes. Busy as
am, / will give you an hour and a
half of my time to read It to me.
You'll forgive me for not reading it.,
won't you? That's lovely skirt you
have on. like the embroidery. No.
can't make the appointment now.
will write you"
Then you wait and wait and wait
for the letter which never comes.
He seems to have forgotten you en-
tirely; 1t has been SO long. Or may
be it is the difference in the dress.
Perhaps you should have picked out
the dress that pleased him best and
alays worn it the one with the en-
broidery.
ooh, yes,' he catches you up hur-
riedly. Your play. / have been so
busy. Really have been so busy"
you promised" you falter, ito let
me read it to you"
He looks at you sharply.
did / promise that?' he asks. ut
must have been when was out of my
senses. l never let anybody read
plays to me. Life is too short. No,
I'll read it myself. But you must give
me time. ] like your little white
shoes. Always wear shoes. They are
so becoming"
Then you would like to tear your
hair and scream out at him:
when will you read my play?
This side the millennium? Remember,
life is short and tomorrow we die"
but, like the cadaverous Mamie, you
go out instead with tears in your
eyes, stumblingly, wondering If it
will he nossihle to 90 TO him through