New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1918-12-22
NEWS AND NOTES OF PLAYS AND PLAYERS

! sadder and saddcr. Then just IA morn
ing broke over the sea Mr. Harris told
me that he had decided not to do nv
play. 1t was the most painful expert
ence but one of my life.
LAS the cnance of its production
grew more and more obscure, | grew
more desperately anxious to see it
done. Finally, George C. Tyler con-
sented to hear it read. The morning
of the appointment l found had left
the script up in the country, eighty
miles out. 1t was a freezing morning.
put rose at 6, drove out and got the
script and arrived just in time for my
appointment to see that the apartment
mouse in which Mr.. Tyler lived had
neen burned down. That was a little
too much. When they took to burning
their houses down to escape from the
play-my road was plain. So I tore
the script in half, threw it in the
waste basket and for the irst time in
two years was free from the feeling
that was hagridden.
THAT night, while was sunk in the
inevitable depression that followed,
Dan Frohman called me on the tele
phone and invited me to go to n dance
given by the Sixty Club at the Ritz.
i do not feel like dancing tonight
said gloomily. We'll, perhaps. your
daughter does he said. And partly to
rouse myself and partly to get away
from myself / went. And there ] mel
Edgar Selwyn. whom I had not seen
for years and who hallcd me as the
very man he wanted to see. Il have an
idea for play that I want you to col
laborate on with me- And then and
there he drew the outline of what
later became The Crowded Hour |
was delighted to fall in with his idea.
had long wanted to do play on the
war, but l had been so possessed BY
The Roads of Destiny that could not
get myself to think of anything else.
Since Edgar Selwyn was a producer as
we'll as a playwright, there was no
doubt that the play would see the light
And so | fell to the work with low
And here is the final irony. The next
morning had note from A, H. Woods
telling me he he'd heard of The
Roads of Destiny and wanted to see
it. So l pulled the script out Of the
basket and had a copy made and
sent IT,"
"What strange story!' I said.
"lsn't 2" said Mr.. Pollock. "And
to think that 'The Roads of Destiny is
success! It's q curious experience to
reach my age, fighting all the way, and
then suddenly to find all opposition
seemingly Withdrawn; that | can do
now what most want to do! 1t is as
tonlshing and quite humblng. 1t
somehow reminds me Of an experience
l once had. | told you just now that
the experience I had in Atlantic CITY
was the most painful but one. The worst
befell me when l came to New York. q
boy OF sixteen. ! had 1910 to stand
between ME and starvation. I invested
81 OF this in a weeks room rent. II
was August, and the room was a win
"o"iesS NloSeI uHuer lne roof. Wlth
the rest of the money bought sup
ply OF bread and cheese, the inevitable
concomitant of a garnet. When the
week was over and had no more bread
and cheese and no more money walked
down Eighth Avenue, wondering what
to do. I was a little frightened and
little defiant. Just then I passed
group OF negroes who were sharing a
watermelon, and one OF them, in an
excess OF JOY, rose and flung quarter
Of it at me, SO that it caught me on
The neck. do not know how l lived
through the agony Of that experience.
II seemed so exquistely timed to ex-
/ press fortunes final insult to me-