The Birmingham age-herald., 1912-11-03

hooved me to inform myself carefully. Anyway I went first to Columbia. By the by I went from the train to the Met ropolitan Opera House. I had never seen The Jewels of the Madonna It was to be played at matinee that afternoon for the last time. I only missed a bit of the first act. After the performance I bought tickets to all the rest of the sea sons performances some 20 in all. My cousin, Dunbar Avirett, was with me- and we went every night and each matinee, and were well tired out but blissfu when the last curtain fell Mir. Charles Cahier, the London singer. was the last of the spring season. She gave the best Aida I ever saw. She is very beautiful wom- an, as well as dandy actress and singer. By the by, did you know that Atlanta broke the worlds record for a week s opera attendance at It's festival last spring? The Metropolitan Opera Com pany only goes to New York, Chicago and Atlanta. Now what do you think of thatr'
 She laughingly declared opera and drama were so closely related that it was not Aggression to switch off. And then she put the query to me:
 Which shall tell you f1rst-my Colum- bia experiences or my Broadway adven- tures?'
 Columbia first" I said.
 Well, studied with Browder Matthews and Charles Sears Baldwin. They each have their classrooms, libraries and of fees on the third floor of the Philosophy building. Mir. Matthews is quite old. He despises women-hates to have them in his classes However, he Is so courtly in manner that his private views on sex do not trouble his women students. He is profoundly learned; has had every sort of decoration and medal etc., that the Eu- ropean civilizations bestow; has written a goody library of books on drama; has in his lecture room models of pretty near ly every famous playhouse of Europe since playhouses began. He Is probably the greatest authority on history of drama extant. But Baldwin is far young era keen constructive pedagogue saf- castle, powerful, wonderfuli My, but he was an eye-opener to me! He takes 30 out of Columbia's thousands. lShe claims 12,o00 students and 1700 professors). And 1t takes original work-two dramas or two complete novels-to gain admission to his classrooms. Tn the registrars office this course goes by the modest name of English 902.' Most of the students in this class are playwrights or dramatic critics on the big dailes seeking literary finish and craft-stagecraft. I sought MT. Bald win in his office and stated my desires. He courteously but friendly, told me his lecture room was full, and 1t was contra " to university regulations to admit stu dents after certain date I did some spe- cial pleading, but was up against the red tape of great university-old, venerable, rich, leisurely indifferent. I, however, had no intention of being turned down. I left my two plays on his desk Ghe hour was 1, Monday afternoon and went in search of Dr. Butler. He was absent; also the dean, but the assistant dean was seeable. and l saw him. Private desires count for nothing in so vast a scheme of administrative machinery as Columbia, but a letter from my kinsman, Edwin Markham, proved an open sesame and 1 o'clock of the same afternoon saw me in MT Baldwins lecture room. Between l and he had skinned my biggest play and gotten interested. His lecture dealt with Ibsen's Ghosts It was worth the trip to New York to hear. At its close he quietly stated that on the next class day he would read for discussion a play by a new playwright, and to my amaze ment, gave my plays title. I was scared to death. After the students had dis persed he called me-made no mention of his statement to the class--but said brusquely to me: When you can write like you do. why did you construct such lost act? It's no act at all. Just loose loblolly of stuffv'