Montgomery County sentinel. [volume] (Rockville, Md.) 1855-1974, 1931-09-04
Dreams of School
Children
By LEETE STONE


s"ANc ooANASS'f
IN THE spring of 1925 boy of
sixteen and girl Of fourteen sat
on great, gnarled apple log In a
sun-patched orchard back of the Hlg-
ginsvllle high school. They were
munching their lunches from neat
carrying tins. Their conversation ran
like this:
"Daisy, ever since I was n kid, and
Dad took me to see East Lynne at
the opera house, I've wanted to write
play some day and, you
know just this morning Pro
lessor Lyons said my sketch Of play
idea was the best he'd got. Maybe
I'll get one over some day. Daisy. It's
dream of mine."
Daisy was quick to reply:
"That's your dream Now I'll tell
you mine, Joe. Five years ago Mother
took me to the stock company play
at Worcester. Ever since that night
I've wanted to be an actress play,
oh; you Unconventional oles. I go
now every chance I get And I'm
saving my allowance; and studying
and I've about got Dad and Mother
to promise to help send me to dramat-
ic school II work summers to help
along. Sargent's in New York Think
Of II, joe"
"Oh, that's great, Daisy Say, Dali
syl You hurry and go to Sargent's
and get some experience; and I'll
write my head off; and" Joe be-
came suddenly shy and hesltant-"and
maybe If my play should get taken
you'd be my leading lady,"
"Oh, Joe deari wouldn't 1t be won
derfulT Daisy whispered in low &C.
static accents.
Five years later! Axel Hanford was
the most difficult producer to see in
New York. He was the car of
theatrical producing company that
had risen from small beginnings to
the point where they offered the finest
intellectual entertainment In New
York. He bought most OF his plays
abroad. A few he secured from dia
liond-studded American playwrlghts.
But there was something about this
carefully penclled note requesting an
audience, that lay on his desk, that
gave him pause The slgnaturt meant
nothing to him. There was something
TO ponder in the simple, sincere word
Ing All his life Axel Hanford had
worshiped sincerity. There is not
much of 1t on Broadway. About to
consign the note to the basket some
strange force withheld his hand, and
he was prompted to say to the wait
ing secretary:
an see himp
A sober-faced, blue-eyed. red-haIred
youngsteI Of twenty-one walked In
and lowered quietly, without ostenta-
lion, over Axel Hanford.
II want to tel. you about my play
he said simply.
"All right; sit down and do So" A
crisp command.
Joe; for Il was Joe, sat down and
his shoulders bulked bigger than ever.
DurnL the recital tears started to his
eyes. The story was an lrraignment
against war. He was impressive
without meaning to be so. He lived
the story. And he ended by saying:
"Mr Hanford, this isn't my first
play. i've written FIVE before this
and chucked 'em all away But my
old English professor at Hlgglnsyille
says this packs better wallOp than
'All's Quiet on the Western Front
Please just read the last act while
I'm here" Joe extended a sheaf Of
typewriter manuscript.
AxeI Hanford did not reach for the
manuscript. What rot, ran through
his mind. He, Axel Hartford, moved
by the story Of fedgling small town
boy when II was his custom to decker
about returns with finished, able and
successful playwrlghts. Rot, he
mouthed to himself; and then that
strange impulse selzei his mind again.
His hand shot out:
"All right Let's have I'll"
He cracked brlskly through page
after page. Finally he laid the last
page down quietly on his desk; leaned
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