The sun., 1918-07-28
Hot on the Trail of One John NJ. SYnge
By BARRETT II. CLARK.

By BARRETT n. CLARK.
THE brief career-scarccly six years
L in all-the premature death and
the sudden posthumous fame of John M.
Synge have placed the author of The
PloybOy Of the Western World in a sort
of mythical light. Except to his intimate
friends Synge appears as n supertramp,
a recluse who was found in an attic in
Paris and went TO live among the peasants
and thinkers and shepherds of Ireland;
wrote few plays and died in hospital
Synge's international fame | found
somewhat Calling TO his Irish acquaint-
ances-l shall not say friends, for those
whom he considered true friends begrudge
him nothing of the honors which have
come TO him after death. My first init
nation of this feeling of-shall | say
envyf-was at the Hotel CorneilIe in
Paris.
Synge? Humph!
1t happened that in the fall of 1913 |
occupied room on the top floor of that
historic hosiery, but not until the last
week of my stay did learn that this was
where Yeats discovered" Synge. An
1rishman with whom / struck up an
acquaintance was staying at the Corncille
when | was there, and when | asked him
if he ever saw Synge he shrugged his
shoulders and remarked that there was
nothing extraordinary about him. He
wondered why SO many books had been
written about him and thought he was
vastly overrated.
In Dublin | was taken 10 James
Stephens's home, where il had been ar
ranged that | was TO meet "A. E." other
wise George w. Russell Had "a. F."
arrived | should have seen the greatest
force in Irish letters of the present day,
and perhaps understood the tremendous
influence he wields over Stephens and the
younger groups-but he could not come.
He had accepted an invitation at the last
moment TO address theosophical society
or a dairy league forget which.
Stephens held forth on "A. Els" char
acter and works do not remember very
much of what he said, but I recall his
delicious Dublin brogue and picture him
sitting or rather squatting in the corner,
looking like an imp or a brownie, talk
ing in Miltonic images and sometimes
dropping into the flowing style of his
own masterpiece, The Crock Of Gold
Here's James Stephens.
Stephens had known Synge, and I
fancy the two were great friends.
Stephens is the same sort of shaggy I'M
tanned Irishman, a strange combination Of
poet and tramp. He was generous in his
praise of Synge and displayed none of the
pettiness | afterward observed in certain
of the other guests that evening. He
told me Of one incident that have never
seen in print; how it escaped the vigilant
proboscis of Maurice Bourgeois, the au-
thor of an exhaustive variorum life OF
Synge, is still source of wonder TO me.
1t is well known that Miss Horniman,
founder and director of the Manchester
Players, endowed TIE Abbey Theatre in
Dublin with considerable sum for 4
period of three years. Her interest in
the then new venture was keen, and at
times assumed proprietary form. She
had seen the first work Of the young
Synge and recognized it as promising"
She evidently thought, however, that he
was too provincial
One morning Synge called at the Abbey
Theatre and Lady Gregory handed him n
large package addressed TO him. 1t was
from Miss Horniman and contained
number of French and German plays by
contemporary dramatists. A letter ac-
companied it. Now Miss Horniman al
ways uses yellow correspondence paper
and envelopes, the exact color of butter
cuDS.