Montana oil and mining journal. [volume] (Great Falls, Mont.) 1931-1953, 1939-05-13
A SUCCESSFUL PLAY
WRIGHT'S DAUGHTER
FOLLOWS THE CALL OF
HER CORNISH FISHER
FOLK ANCESTRY.
IN TWO PARTS-PART ONE

I
Edwin Bose was passing thru
one of those moments of amaze
ment at finding himself where he
was and what he was, which were
becoming rarer each year but
which always left him bewildered
and rather melancholy, wondering
If, after all, his success had made
him happy. He was lOunging in
padded chair, in his living-room in
one of the most luxurious flats in
London. He had made a fortune
from his first play and had had
fair luck with those that followed. His
name was one of the brightest in the
theatrical world
Now at this moment, his surround
lngs looked unreal to him. The sound
OF the traffic might have been the
roaring OF the sea. The flash Of gtills'
wings swung before his eyes. The little
lacquer table at his elbow, on which
STOOD cocktail glass and a silver box
Of cigarets, turned to a plain deal
table where were laid a loaf of bread,
q pot OF tea and a dish OF behring's.
He heaved his heavy body in the chair
and turned his eyes to the window.
There was London no doubt about that, I
and here was he, Tapped about, sucked (
uhder, Smothered in luxury. Cornwall I
ana ms old life we're far in the past /
Now the momentary amazement was I
over and melancholy was come upon I
him. He gave deep sigh and drew a
weight OF Self-pity over his spirit like .
a heavy blanket. mot cut out for a
Life like this" he muttered, and then
added-"it'S killing me-"
Hpar-fnu 1,fracoif
extreme statement he felt little light
en1ng of his depression though it still
weighed heavily. He observed himself
as he observed characters in his plays
He folded his hands on his stomach
and fixed his eyes on the door of his
wife's room through which he heard
her coming.
The door opened and she entered.
stepping lightly, almost bouncingly.
How that walk of hers irritated him,
though once 1t had seemed the happy
of girlish buoyancyl Even
now 1t was not incongruous, for she
had worn well She was five years
older than he, but looked is years his
junior. 1t was hard to believe that she !
had a daughter Of is and a son Of 20.
"A young man from the Evening :
Star wants to talk to you about your /
next play" she said. !
He kept his heavy eyes on her face.
There Is no next play" he growled.
His wife had heard this sort of
hing before. She came and bent over
lin, stroking the back of his neck, as
hough she were soothing a surly dog.
lie realized that she was peering into :
lis face to find out If he had been : :
thinking too much. He jerked his head
rom her hand and growled: Z
Tell the fellow to go to hell" :
you know can't do that. Also Il
GU know how much good the right a
ort Of publicity can do for a play. And ii
ne Evening Star has always been very b
IND TO yours. Come now, give him Just h
I've minutes" She tugged at the lapel n
+ his coat and ran her fingers through "
is still thick iron gray hair to give
he wtnd-blown effect suitable to a r
ritter OF rugged Cornish plays.
He submitted, as he had known from u
ne first he would submit But when e e
ne reporter had gone his depression y.
sturned, with even more crushing a,
eight and he almost stumbled as he "a
,turned to his wife. He felt heavily
ngry toward her. He remembered the
ay she had bounced into the room
nd his legs felt like lead 70
She looked up from the desk where 81
lie was sorting his mail and smiled n
leerfully. OF
Here's a letter from a high school ~,
RI who is writing a thesis on your M M
DIRK. She asks for a letter from you ".
ling her Just how you began to write iiA
avs and whether your writing is
erely from the artistic urge or wheth-
you have deeper. humanitarian sol
olive. he
How I began!" repeated Bose. "Ev- roo
yone knows I was the schoolnaster thi
Cornish fishing village, don't 10
ey2 Everyone knows that I put the pei
vii
a