Please make it!
Any night! You'll be
surprised! —
Lynn

NORTHWESTERN UNIVERSITY THEATRE

GARRETT H. LEVERTON, DIRECTOR

HAS THE HONOR TO ANNOUNCE

THE FIRST PRODUCTION OF

LYNN RIGG'S

LATEST PLAY

MORE SKY

STAGED BY THE AUTHOR

THE EVENINGS OF JULY 24, 25, 26, 27

EVANSTON, ILLINOIS

HARRIS THEATRE BLDG.
226 WEST 42nd STREET
NEW YORK CITY

Cable: WILCKARY, NEW YORK
TELEPHONE: WISCONSIN 6327

(INC.)

BROKER IN MANUSCRIPTS

"The pen is the tongue of the mind"

Cervantes

DRAMA

MOTION PICTURES

July 2, 1927.

Dear Mr. Riggs:-

We have all the copies of
A LANTERN TO SEE BY
in an envelope, awaiting Samuel French Inc.
messenger.

Hope you are having a nice
holiday. Best wishes always,

While every care is taken of MSS we disclaim any responsibility for loss or damage by fire, in transit, etc. etc.

October 18, 1927.

Dear Barrett:

I've thought and thought, pondered and pondered, and all I can arrive at is that *The Lonesome West* as it is is approximately expositive (if there is such a word) of the idea I had in writing it. It is about more than one person - or even one couple; it is, like symphonic music, completely visible and meaningful only at last; it is strange. But it has form, more so than any play I have written, and movement and excitement. I've been trying it on people, not too friendly, and they sit up as people sat up (for not at all identical, but similar reasons) at *The Great God Brown*.

I know my disagreeing this way about it won't alienate you at all. All the same, I've been reluctant as hell to say I'm afraid I can only swear by the play as it is, and not as it might be if I worked on it from now until 1930. Let me know you support me even in what may easily be poor judgment. I honestly feel, Barrett, that this play determines my right to be in the theatre at all.

As ever,

P.S. - I believe you are right about the title. But I can't think of anything but *The Pioneer's Children* or *Children of Pioneers*. I suggest: *In This Country*. What do you think? And here is the note which I believe ought to go at the front of the copies, especially those to the Theatre Guild and Eva Le Galliene.

November 14, 1927.

Dear Barrett:

I don't know how much your management's willingness to give me double advances heretofore has been your persuasive eloquence. Anyway, I'm at the middle of the month again, and so wrapped up in the play that I can't hunt a job, and I wonder if another advance would just about put me in wrong all round. You'll say honestly, won't you?

The new play is, I think, to be called _RANCOUR_.

The first act will be done in two or three days.

I'm pleased with it, and excited as hell. It's a good - and theatric - study. And it's for Alice Brady, or Pauline Lord, or Marjorie Rambeau, or any one of three others. So if Miss Anglin can't see it --

Miss Akins is still concerned about me - especially about _The Lonesome West_. She suggests calling it _The Middle West_. And I had already about decided to re-name it simply _Middle West_. But not right away.

December 8, 1927.

Dear Barrett:

Here are the Ames letter and the one from Brady and
Wiman's reader.

Since Miss Akins' copy of _The Lonesome West_, instead
of going to Miss Le Gallienne, went to Mr. Ames,
perhaps you would send Miss Le G. a copy.

It occurs to me that Robert Edmond Jones once rec-
ommended Sump'n to Arthur Hopkins. I took it away
before he'd read it, because of Actors' Theatre con-
tract. Now I'm writing to Mr. Jones, to ask if he
still feels, - etc.

My brother offers me a ticket home for Christmas.

So I'll go soon, and finish arraging my own dates.

My manager has only two"positive", so far.

Here's a review from The Univ. of Okla. Magazine.

A Chicago friend sends me a nice word from you in
the _English Journal_. I make my bow.

Hotel Albert,
10th and Univ. Pl.
New York.

Form 702-M

HOLIDAY
GREETING

WESTERN UNION

1927 DEC 24 PM 11:40

CCAA770 48 NL. CLAREMORE OKLA 24

BARRETT H CLARK.

BRIARCLIFFMANOR NY.

THIRTY ONE BIG LAKE SOLD TUESDAY NORMAN PLEASE ASK OFFICE
SEND TWENTY FIVE CONSIGNMENT TO PARLETTE DOYLE 128 MAIN
STREET OKLAHOMACITY WITH LETTER SAYING I APPEAR THERE AT
PRIVATE RECEPTION NEXT THURSDAY AND FOR AUTHORS LEAGUE
JANUARY TEN CHEQUE TO YOU THIS WEEK REGARDS CHRISTMAS
GREETINGS.

LYNN.

May 25, 1928.

Dear Barrett:

I'm thinking that I'd like to have "Sump'n Like Wings" and "A Lantern to See By" published in a single volume, and now that it looks as if I were to have other productions, it seems to me propitious and right to publish those two before "The Domino Parlor" comes out. As you have pointed out yourself, and as I know so well, my work has a kind of progression about it, not in worth but in temper, and I'd naturally like it recorded chronologically. Will you please ask Samuel French officially if the firm will do this now? Of course I want you people to do it. But I'd like definite word of it, so that if the firm is agreeable, I could probably see the proofs before I go to Europe. Tell me what you think about this.

I'm going to try to think about a one-acter for your volume. But don't scold me, will you, if I don't get it written?

22 East 38th St.

Did you get Ben Botkin's address right?

English Department,
Univ. of Okla.
Norman, Okla.

Dear Barrett:

I've made three (this is the fourth) attempt to do this biography stuff. Won't just the exterior facts do?

1899 - Born, August 31, 1899, on a farm 3 miles from Claremore, Indian Territory.

1905 - Moved to Claremore. Went to school. Spent grade school and prep. school vacations on farm, or riding after cattle with my father and brother, or visiting relatives and friends in many small towns: Quapaw, White Oak, Pryor, Verdigris, etc. Read a lot - trash, mostly, there being little else. Old Slouth. Diamond Dick. Horatio Alger. My first paid job - driving an old horse to a grocery store delivery wagon. Worked in glass factories at Sapulpa one summer. Went to country play-parties, box suppers, pie suppers, Friday "speakings", auctions. Sang in the spotlight of a movie house, owned by my voice teacher.

1917 - Graduated from Prep, school in Claremore, and rode the caboose of a cattle train to Chicago. Worked for the Adams Express company, claim bureau. After a few months, went to New York, and stayed almost two years: played extra in western movies made in Astoria and the MAXX Bronx, sold books in the book department of Macy's, read proof for the Wall Street Journal,

1919 - Went back to Claremore, a wreck. That summer I went to Tulsa and worked for the Oil and Gas Journal, and discovered poetry. Read all the modern poetry, and wrote my first poems. Reams and reams. Very bad. In the fall, I went to Los Angeles, played extra in many movies with the older stars. On a raft for a week in San Pedro harbor while Hobart Bosworth made "Beneath the Surface"; ten days, very much a "dress-suit extra" on Universal's set of the Metropolitan Opera House, for Dorothy Phillips in "Ambition" (a young man, just beginning, shot himself a dozen times while the cameras clicked, and fell as many times out of an upper box - Rudolph Valentine); spent a long night on the Lasky ranch with a thousand others while James Cruze directed Wally Reid in "Hawthorne of the U. S. A.", etc. Read proof for the Los Angeles Times and nearly ruined my eyes.

1920 - Back to Claremore. Summer there, a wreck again. Entered Univ. of Okla. in the fall. At Norman, Oklahoma. Never missed a dance or a football game. Wrote more poetry. Messrs. Mencken and Nathan began to print me in the Smart Set, sometimes 3 poems in an issue. Taught freshman English after my first year. Christmas vacation,

1921, wrote a wild farce, "Cuckoo", which was hilarously produced. Summer of 1922, with seven others from school on chautauqua all over the Middle West: Iowa, Kansas, Nebraska, Ohio, MinnESA, Michigan, Wisconsin, Indiana, South Dakota, etc. The Southern Minstrels. I was 2nd tenor in the quartet.

1923 - November. Complete nervous collapse. Various reasons. Went to Santa Fe and worked on a ranch. Recovered. Went to work for Spanish and Indian Trading Company. Won Oklahoma poetry prize, for two sonnets. Went all over New Mexico, to Mexican and Indian villages, seeing many Indian dances and ceremonies. Wrote long poem, "Santo Domingo Corn Dance", which appeared later in *The Nation*. Published many poems, in *Poetry*, etc.

1925 - Made bantering bargain to write a play for production by Santa Fe Players, to be directed by Miss Ida Rauh. Wrote "Knives from Syria". It was produced. Wrote my first full-length play, "The Primitives", satirizing New Mexican life. Wrote "Sump'n Like Wings". Went to Oak Park, Ill. outside Chicago, taught English in a night school in Chicago. Wrote "Big Lake".

1926 - February. Mr. Kenneth Macgowan wrote my, much concerned about "Sump'n Like Wings". Went to New York. Mr. Macgowan for Actor's Theatre contracted for "Sump'n". Wrote "A Lantern to See By". Summer on Mr. Hatcher Hughes' farm, making hay, plowing, hauling rye, making roads, etc. including writing a new play, "The High Mountain". Appalled at how bad it was, and how unreal and dishonest the people were. Came back to New York. Wrote many poems.

1927 - "Big Lake" produced. Worked in book store in Grand Central. Invited for summer to Yaddo, an estate near Saratoga Springs. Wrote "The Lonesome West" and new poems. "Big Lake" published by Samuel French, with introduction by Barrett H. Clark. Back to New York. Through kindness of my publisher allowed to write a new play, instead of hunting a job. Wrote "Rancor". In December, went to Oklahoma for a reading and lecture tour. Received with great concern at my University, Oklahoma City, Tulsa, etc. Checked up on the places and people I had been writing about. Relieved to find I had been right about them, and not romanticizing.

1928 - New York again. Wrote "The Domino Parlor", tried out by Shuberts. Won Guggenheim Fellowship for year abroad, for "unusual and proved creative ability in drama". "Sump'n Like Wings" (still unproduced) contracted for for fall; also "A Lantern to See By". "Rancor" tried out, at Hedge row Theatre. Went abroad in July.

FRATERNITY CLUBS BUILDING

22 EAST 38<sup>th</sup> STREET
NEW YORK

July 2, 1928.

Dear Barrett:

Would you think me utterly mad if I asked you
if Samuel French, on the suspicion that I
might really make money some day soon, would
feel like advancing me, now, $1000. in cool
cash? I'd be rather owe Samuel French than
the people I do owe, and it would take a great
easeful weight off my mind to get this settled
this week. And the sooner, the better.

Will you, anyway, ask - and find out, if the
firm is willing, what would be the terms.

With the rather immediate interest that more
and more is going to be attached to my plays,
I don't feel myself that I finally will be a
poor business proposition. And your firm
has been so damned considerate of me in every
way, that I'd like it to be them who profits in
the end. At the moment it is myself who would
profit, and profit greatly. And be sure of
my gratitude.

Can you drop me a hasty note?

Reckless is all but finished.

SAMUEL FRENCH

INCORPORATED 1898

THOMAS R. EDWARDS, MANAGING DIRECTOR
25 WEST 45TH STREET
NEW YORK

SAMUEL FRENCH, LTD.
26 SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND
LONDON, W.C.2.

CABLE ADDRESS
NEWYORKTHEATRICAL
LONDON "CONDENTIAL"

July 21, 1928.

Dear Barrett:

Please consider yourself (try to get out of it if
you dare!) my literary executor until further notice.
The beneficiaries of my enormous earnings (after all
debts are paid) are as follows (that is, if I up and
die):

Mr. W. G. Riggs, Claremore, Okla.

Mr. Edgar Riggs, Claremore, Okla.

Mrs. L. B. Cundiff, Care W. G. Riggs, Claremore,
Okla.

That is, the above people are to share equally.

Now I'll probably live three hundred years.

12, rue du Piolet,
Cagnes-sur-Mer, (A.M.)
France.

Dec. 28, 1928.

Dear Mr. Moe:

I must tell you now, unofficially, and right at the start, that I feel enormously grateful to the Foundation for what it has done for me. And nothing could be more thoughtful and considerate than its "stringless" attitude, in addition to its benevolence. I've met many people who asked me just what the catch was in a Fellowship such as I was holding. And it's been very gratifying to say to them: "There isn't any. One is supposed to work, of course. But the intimate detailed reports of progress, the Foundation isn't interested in. It assumes, from the beginning, that one takes his work seriously, and will do in his own interest the best he can."

And I must say to you now, too, as I've said to others, that I've been wondering for some time about John Simon Guggenheim. For it seems to me genuinely, a touching and marvelous thing that, because of someone we know little about, fifty or more people go moving about the Old World - with a rather rare and distinguished privilege, and the leisure to do their own work. I, for one, should like to know about him; and perhaps when I come back to America, you'll tell me what you know.

About my own progress, I feel a little disgruntled. I wrote you a brief note from Paris, about my new play. I'm still working on it, "Green Grow the Lilacs" - it's now past the third scene, which is more than half way through, and I expect to finish it early in February. If the Foundation's Committee would like to see it, I'll be glad to forward what is done of it any time before then. My being disgruntled is only because the thing isn't finished, for it's going very well, and is very rewarding to work at. Being torn up and transplanted and being always at the mercy of new sensations kept me from working for a long time. I suppose that's inevitable. Now I am located securely, and in the sun (which is a help), and working very hard.

The play itself is the most ambitious one I've tried; and I hope it will be my best. It's a play about a vanished era in the Middle West - an era a little more golden than the present one; a time when people were easier, warmer, happier in the environment they had created. Song flourished. There were the usual human anguishes, of course. But there was wholeness in the people, there was great endurance. And in spite of ignorances and darknesses, there was a cool wisdom our radios and autos have banished forever. Even the speech of the people, backwoods though it was, was rich, flavorful, lustrous, and wise. And the songs are now forgotten, except for a few which have gotten into anthologies. In this play, I am using for the first time in drama, I believe, many American folk songs entirely unknown to the world even of anthologists.

12, rue du Piolet,
Cagnes-sur-Mer, (A.M.)
France.
December 28, 1928.

A permanent address - until April:

Care - Guaranty Trust Co.
1, rue des Italiens, Paris.

Dear Mr. Moe:

Your word of November 20 lets me know that no forms are to be filled
out, in applying for renewals of grants from the Foundation. Here
then, since I wish to apply for a renewal from May 1, 1929 for six
months or a year (whichever you would advise), is my statement of
work accomplished:

1. I've seen the theatres of France and Spain only; soon I go to Italy, back through Germany, and into England and Ireland. (This I've an idea the Foundation isn't interested in.)

2. I've written a one-act play, On a Siding.

3. I've begun, indeed am half way through a long play, my most ambitious and, to me, satisfying to date - *Green Grow the Lilacs*.

It will be finished long before my grant expires; most likely there'll be a complete first draft by Feb. 15, 1929.

On another page, I've made a sort of outline of the play; and in another, very informal letter to you, I've been more elaborate about it.

If I am given a renewal for a year, I shall write a new play and
a series of short plays. If I'm given a renewal for six months, I
shall write another long play.

12, rue du Piolet,
Cagnes-sur-Mer,
(Alpes Maritimes)
France.

Jan. 18, 1929.

Dear Mr. Moe:

I am sending in this mail to Mr. Barrett H. Clark a copy of my
letters of application to you concerning a renewal grant from the
Foundation. These European mails are so erratic! But I trust my
original application arrived all right, and in time. If it didn't,
may I impose again on your kindness and ask you to send a note to
Mr. Clark for the copy?

And this is to say, too, that I am also sending to Mr. Clark on Mon-
day, January 21, the _complete final draft_ of the first half of my
new play, "Green Grow the Lilacs". This will make it available to
the Foundation Committee if it cares to see it. Mr. Clark, I'm sure,
will send it over to you at your request. I should have sent it
direct to you, but I didn't want to clutter up your office on
the chance that the Committee might not care to have a look at it.

The play is much farther along now, of course, in first draft. I've
begun the fifth scene. There are six. But nothing is quite final
yet in this last part, until the sixth scene is completed. It's going
beautifully, and is easily my best play.

And, by the way, you haven't had a copy of my new book which came out
in August. I'm asking Samuel French to send you a copy. Here's what
the Manchester Guardian said of it, if you think the Committee might
like to know.

I've just heard that George O'Neill has applied for a Fellowship. May
I add my unsolicited recommendation for him. For years I cut his poems
out of stray magazines. He had the clearest most lyric gift in Amer-
ica, it seemed to me. His last book, "The White Rooster", has the kind
of poetry that no one but one of the elect could write. He more com-
pletely creates a world than any modern poet I know, a world as vivid,
as complete, as glowing, as the one Keats inhabited. He's the real thing.
His prose, too, is extraordinary in a special way. I don't know any-
one more meritorious than Mr. O'Neill, or one more sure to reflect great
credit, and no doubt glory on the Foundation.

Here is Mr. Clark's address: Mr. Barrett H. Clark,
Care- Samuel French, Inc.
25 West 45th St. New York City.

My very best to you again,

Dear Barrett:

The enclosed letters, especially the "Copy for Barrett" will ex-
plain all. Will you be so good? Just hold the applications (letters)
if they're not sent for. And will you send to Mr. Moe a copy of
Sump'n Like Wings, and charge to me?

Mr. Henry Allen Moe,
John Simon Guggenheim Memorial Foundation,
551 Fifth Avenue,
New York City.

When the first three scenes of _Green Grow the Lilacs_ arrives, don't
read it, if you'd rather not, till the rest arrives. Though, God
knows, I'd give several sous to know you thought it good. The Theatre
Guild will do this one if they can get voices. What do you think?

You're right about _On A Siding_. It is conventional. Just keep it
by you a while, until we decide whether or not to destroy it.

I've a lot to thank you for, as usual. Your Christmas greetings,
(thank Cecil and the family for me, too); the special bound volume
on Paul, the books - Conkle's, etc. And the reviews you've sent.
Well, I do thank you, you know that. How glad I am to see a
Samuel French envelope sliding under the door!

Conkle's book is _of a piece_. That is, it's quite remarkably cut
out of the same mind, a strange, sardonic, and I still insist, _cruel_,
mind. Cruel only where it is insensitive and unsympathetic. But
he has integrity and humor, and you've done well to publish him.
Now _do_ go and discover someone as good as Paul, won't you? I've
been reading _In the Valley_. Part of the book is absolutely terrify-
ing - In the Valley, The Picnic, and in an odd way, Saturday Night.
What's he doing, anyway? He won't write me, the swine.

I've been busy, besides working, with reading _Point Counter Point_.
There's the kind of person to be, in this world. The man is soph-
isticated, but not afraid of banalities, of obvious ironies; he
has great penetration, too, in spite of his cleverness; and he's a
poet, one who feels rightly about life. Here, at last, is the modern
world boiled in its own oil.

My life is incredibly simple these days. I go on sitting at the
breakfast table, while the maid potters about, and begin working.
Sometimes I go for an afternoon to Nice, to Cannes, to Vence, or
overnight to Monte Carlo, or Villefranche. Last week I went for
three days to Toulon, and watched the town busy doing nothing on
its curious and intimate quay. D. H. Lawrence was there.

Do I hear that you sold a play for my friend, Roy Chanslor? Good!

Regards to you, a lot. And more of a letter later.

Jan. 18, 1929.

RECEIVED

MAR 20 1929

Dear Barrett:

Of course. I'm glad you like _Reckless_ well enough. It might be a little better, especially near the end. If there's time, I'll revise it some. Anyway, here is the slip you want.

Now I must tell you of my great distress. I sent you on Jan. 30, the first three scenes of _Green Grow the Lilacs_, registered and everything, asking for a quick note saying they had arrived. Weeks have gone by, and still no word. Picture my alarm, since I have only my other working copy with me. I knew if it came, you'd acknowledge it immediately. So I figured out -- it arrived, and your secretary failed to tell me; or you've had the flu, and were away from the office; or your letter went astray; or, heaven help us, it didn't come at all. This is just to explain my cable to you which I'm going to send tomorrow if there's still no word.

The play will be finished in a few days - perhaps three. And luckily. Since Spring is definitely upon us here, and the warm hillsides are too alluring. I'm a little tired, but happy, and after a little rest, I've plans for work popping right and left. You liked the idea of the short plays - Now I have an idea that if some solvent, some fluid, some technical means presents itself - I can write a most curious, most novel long play which incorporates the short plays. This play will be called _The Cherokee Night_, taking its title from this:

> The grass is withered;
> Where the river was is red sand;
> Fire eats the timber -
> Night has come to our people.
> --from the Cherokee.

The play will concern itself with that night, that darkness (with whatever flashes of light allowably splinter through) which has come to the Cherokees and their descendants. An absorbed race has its curiously irreconcilable inheritance. It seems to me the best grade of absorbed Indian might be an unintellectual Hamlet, buffeted, harrassed, victimized, split, baffled -- with somewhere in him great fire and some granite. And a residual lump of stranger things than the white race may fathom.

But the play will play itself out realistically, unpretentiously. It will probably be about -- a young man about to marry an Osage girl, with tons of money (_The White Turkey_); a few couples picnicking at Claremore Mound where the last battle between the Cherokees and Osages took place (_Sixty-Three Arrow Heads_); three boys at the scene of a murder (_Where the Higher Was Found_); a man in a cell for murder (_The Claw Hammer_); two sisters and the irony of their first meeting in years (_Liniment_); the last exploit of a desperado -- as in my story of the Cataloosie killing _Panther_

poor wretches trying to amuse themselves - at Cannes, Nice, Monte Carlo,
etc. -- when the spirit says so. But the village itself is a presence,
an old one that lets me alone; or if it says anything, does it with such
tired negation that it does make me the way Paris does.

I had such a drear note from Paul, poor devil. He has had a ghastly
time. I tried to lure him here with the promise of sun, but I've had
no answer. Does he plan to stay longer? By the time this reaches you,
the Guggenheim awards will be out, and I shall be - or not be - on the
list. I can understand it certainly if I'm not. But I want to stay
on for the summer at least. What on earth could I possibly do in New
York this summer? If I don't get a renewal, and you can think of a
way for a bright young man to make some money, let me know.

The new Conkle play does sound good. Has he done anything about the
Keeper of the hotel - I've forgotten the name?

Now see here, don't work too hard - I don't like to think of you there
in the summer. Couldn't you go away for longer than a vacation period?
I think you might.

Thanks for the word about the plays. Will you send me *Street Scene*?
Shuberts, I judge (and pray) have lost the rights to *The Domino Parlor*.
Andis the Lao. definitely under, and is *Sump'n* free again? What a
time that unfortunate play has?

Here are some pictures.

Many regards - to you and yours.

Ever,

March 10, 1929.

800 ROOMS EACH WITH TUB AND SHOWER

RADIO IN EVERY ROOM

HOTEL MONTCLAIR

Lexington Ave. 49th to 50th Streets
New York

May 1, 1929.

Dear Barrett:

I wanted to ask if Samuel French's patience with me about money is exhausted. I know I haven't broken them up; but I am sensible that they've given me money, and the returns are slow in coming - their generosity about giving me Shubert and Laboratory advances has been one reason, the other being the incalculable bad luck of having three contracts for productions come to naught.

I know you would like me to be free of money ob-
ligations as soon as possible, and for my sake don't
want me to be taxed for my poverty. But the fact
remains that I'm broke, as usual, again, and want
to write my new play, and don't want to get a job
(provided I _could_ get one). Oh, I shan't starve
for a week, perhaps two; but please tell me what
you think about the matter.

And while it occurs to me, at the final moment last
Spring, the Miss (I've forgotten her name) to whom
bossing the job of making that survey of settlement
dramatics was left, sprung just as I was writing my
report a new set of conditions, and forms under which
it was to be made. I protested that these were all
new to me, and that I'd make the report I'd agreed to
do. This she wouldn't hear of. So, after frantic
efforts to find Mrs. Erlanger (she was out of town)
I allowed her to say they'd get some one else. So,
though I had spent all the money advanced - $250,
while I was going daily to settlements, I said that
of course if they weren't going to have my report,
I'd have to return the money. This was purely grat-
uitous on my part. I should have said, "You wretched
girl, here's the report you asked for, and to hell
"OLD FASHIONED HOSPITALITY IN A MODERN SETTING"

Provineetown, Mass.

June 21, 1929.

Dear Barrett:

Thanks for your several letters, with the news. Also for
the two plays you sent. I had seen *In Tamman's Hollow*
before, and I think it's quite bad - don't you? *Quagmire*
is pretty good, but nobody seems quite authentic at that
kind of thing just now but Paul. Anyway, we couldn't do
a negro play here. No negroes.

I'll be glad to see Miss Benedict, of course. Ask her to
phone Mrs. Eastman's house when she arrives -- 229, ring 5.

You did a good job of answering Miss Morrison, and I thank
you for it. As usual, I shouldn't have known what to say.
*The Domino Parlor* seems to be the white-headed boy, doesn't it?
Brady and Wiman are among the very few who ought to do it, I
think.

I'm a little worried about *Green Grow*. I don't see how any
body but the newest, most careful, most poetic kind of producer
can touch it, so we must be very reluctant to give anybody
but that kind of person any hopes of being allowed it, don't
you think? This means that as far as I'm concerned, you

can withdraw the Jed Harris copy and the Donald Brian copy.
I've a use for 'one of them, incidentally. The Brian copy was
my own, anyway. And as to the other - well, here's the story:
I wrote to Miss Irene Lewisohn, who has long been interested in
my work, and lamented the passing of the Neighborhood Playhouse,
as I at last had a play that was for it, and for very few other
producers. In fact, Miss Lewisohn had been very concerned
long ago about my old ballads and folk songs, and asked me if
I couldn't write a play-party for the Playhouse. An answer
has come from Miss Helen Ingersoll, which says---

Your letter to Miss Lewisohn has been forwarded to this
office as she is in Europe.

The Neighborhood Playhouse is not "lamented" in the tech-
nical sense. It continues its productions though they are
given occasionally and not according to any definite sched-
ule. For the last two years they have been product-
ions of symphonic music at the Manhattan Opera House.

And so there is every chance that if "Green Grow the Lilacs" is a "Neighborhood Playhouse play", arrangements could be made for its production. Would you like to send it to this office for me to bring to the attention of Miss Lewisohn upon her return?

This is the best bet about _Green Grow_ I can think of, and I'm
sorry I didn't think of it sooner, but I supposed of course
Miss Lewisohn was not active any more. If she did it, she'd
not be lavish about it, and not care if it made a cent. So will
you send a copy to

Miss Helen Ingersoll,
Office of the Neighborhood Playhouse,
505 Fifth Avenue,
New York,

I do hope you're coming up. I've rented a typewriter ---

Provincetown, Mass.

July 18, 1929.

Dear Barrett:

Indeed, yes. If the Guild is interested
in _Green Grow the Lilacs_ and wants to do
it, I'll be glad to confer with them, to
hear their feelings about the play, and
to do everything in my power to help the
Indian Territory of 1900 to come alive in
its own particular luster.

You remember
that in the early days of writing the
play last year, I told you what I wanted
to do -? I wanted the play, like the old
songs of its era, to reproduce the reality
of a gone age in America - its quaintness,
its absurdity, its melodrama, its rude
vigor and vulgarity, its touching sweetness.

A script cannot quite do that, I realize.

Provincetown, Mass.

July 18, 1929.

Dear Barrett:

Just a personal note to say my enthusiasm
for the Guild's interest. They're the
ones to do *Green Grow*, it seems to me, so
let's give three low silent cheers while
no one's looking. Of course, they may
not do it yet. We are schooled in dis-
aster - But their interest does mean
that some day they're going to do me, and
I can't ask for a better potential fate
in the theatre. On the chance that the
long patient, painstaking and seemingly
infertile row you've been hoeing is now
going to be hoed by others - let me just
lump up here my most genuine gratitude
for your long rigors and your unfailing
encouragement - and God, how I have
needed it, and been kept alive by it!

Affectionately,

Provincetown, Mass.

August 4, 1929.

9 agree-
offici-
t.

Dear Barrett:

I've been thinking over our talk about a new book of plays-
which finally terminated with us deciding to wait. But I've
been thinking about it again, and it seems to me there are
a few advantages:

1. The plays will be made available to a reading public, as well as to producers, and one New York success of any play of mine ought to sell the book in quantities large enough to pay the publication costs.

2. The book could be submitted to one of the book clubs.

3. The book does not kill production chances, as Sump'n has demonstrated.

4. For me, personally, the book is what I am writing, the theatre being what it is. Sometime later, when I've had the good luck to work with the perfect producer, this may change.

5. The publication of Sump'n gave my name ~~weight~~ in New York, for producers - the best ones, I am reliably informed, - consider that my plays are literature, which they would not be so apt to do if Samuel French hadn't made a book out of them.

6. Finally, if a new book comes out under the French imprint, containing all my available plays except Green Grow the Lilacs, Samuel French, because of their risk, etc. can justly withdraw the plays from the hands of any other agents, and not have the prospect of having to split commissions, in the event of the sale of any play to a producer.

The plays I consider for the volume are, of course, The
Lonesome West, Rancor, and The Domino Parlor. I'm getting
a little worried about Rancor, and may change my mind about
wanting it printed. And I consider changing Domino to
The Blues. Anyway, let me know what you think. And I'd
like a good copy of The Domino Parlor, if you have one.

peals at last.

to do so now.

How long have you been away?

It's been a long time.

How are you feeling today?

I'm feeling ok. It's been a long time.

DATA 23. TESA.

BROTHROUGHT. TESA.

Provincetown, Mass.
July 29, 1929.

Dear Mr. Edwards:

My agreement with Samuel French expires on Aug. 11, and I'm writing to say - "Can't we renew the arrangement whereby Samuel French gets 20%, instead of 10%, for two more years, of all monies that come in from plays of mine written up to Aug. 11, 1929?"

I'm sorry you haven't made money on me so far, but that's partly the fault of the Bad Luck God who watches over the theatre. But it seems to me that in the next two years, some decent kind of return will fall to you, in return for your careful and kindly gamble on me. I certainly want that to happen; indeed, it is the only way in which some sort of justice can be done you and the firm.

And so, if you are agreeable, I'd like 20% of the author's intake on the following plays, for the next two years - from Aug. 11, 1929 to Aug. 11, 1931 - to go to Samuel French:

Knives from Syria
Sump'n Like Wings
Big Lake
A Lantern to See By
Reckless
The Lonesome West
Rancor
The Domino Parlor
Green Grow the Lilaos (finished)
Roadside (which will be finished late in Aug.)

In case Pinkers' sale of the plays, I suppose their share would be 5%, and French's 15%. I don't know exactly whether that's the way to figure it out, but the office will know, no doubt.

If I started to list the advantages I've had out of our relationship, I'd run out of paper.

But I will say that the personal courtesy and concern of yourself, of Mr. Sheil, of Mr. Clark, and the good-will of the office has been a very real thing to me. I feel at home there and I want to keep on sticking around. If you had never kept the large grey wolf (especially hungry for dramatists) away from my door [MANKIND here in America] and when I cabled from abroad, no one would have, I'm certain. And the knowledge that I've had someone to count on had made it possible for me to write the plays I wanted to write.

So here are my gratitude and my very warm sounding, no doubt, a little formal on the personal regards, a page, but no less sincere.

Provincetown, Mass.

August 14, 1929.

Dear Barrett:

After lo, these many weeks, I'm returning the
plays sent me -- Clancy, Quagmire, In Tamman's
Hollow, Dobey and Sons, Mud on the Hoofs.
Productions plans all off - this season any-
way. Everybody is too busy. Susan Glaspell
with her new novel; Ida remodeling the house;
myself with Roadside, etc.

Quagmire seems pretty good; In Tamman's Hol-
low terrible; Mud on the Hoofs, determined to
be different, by God, or die - with just
enough curious madness to make the arty boys
fall; Dobey and Sons, with quite a lot of
good in it and quite a lot of bad - (The open-
ing scene great, with all Conkle's special
low warped humor.) Clancy, of course, is
the best of them all. Slight, but racy and
true in speech and character. The part about
the"eaten-up stomach" is just silly, as is
the doctor's ridiculous talk about it. It
seemed to me that Miss Baumer wanted to
avoid abortion, because it's been done so
often. Of course, abortion is hardly danger-
ous at all any more, but Clancy wouldn't know
that - And it's led up to and side-stepped
-- deliberately. The substitute doesn't
seem right and credible.

The plays you were sending didn't come -
could they have gone astray?

Ida invites you up again if you can make it.

I see Elmer Rice quoted in the World, in
what looks like your criticism class at
Columbia.

How does the family like Baltimore environs?

Dear Barrett:

Mr. Davidson hasn't showed up, but Frank Shay reports that he's been seen, so perhaps he'll look me up this week. Of course, I'll be glad to see him. The Oklahoma job is off, and I'm afraid it's too late that any job would be hard to get. I might try the Southern Methodist University at Dallas. In fact, I shall write then, anyway.

Provinsetown is a marvelous place; I've had a great summer. I hope you'll be able to come up still. You could see Susan Glaespell and Frank Shay. Miss Glaespell has just sold Brook Bryan to Paramount films for a talkie -- $15,000. I have a bunch it's for Ruth Chatterton.

I've had a sore throat for three days - it's better now, and I still expect to finish <u>Roadside</u> this week. I wonder what you're going to think of it?

Greetings -

Provinsetown, Mass.

Aug. 21, 1929.

----Barrett, you're to charge me for those books I asked for or I shall be absolved. And on that condition, I'd like <u>John</u>, too.

Provincetown, Mass.

August 27, 1929.

Dear Barrett:

I've just mailed *Roadside* to you. I intended to finish the play by my birthday at least, but it got itself arranged before that date. Yep, on August 31, I'll be thirty. I grow ancient. And since a birthday is a good time to make plans, I'm brimming with them. In the first place, God help me, I feel committed to the theatre now. And if *Green Grow the Lilacs*' fate is a happy one finally, I'll be certain that there's room for my kind of play, or rather the kind I intend to write. Even if its fate turns out to be a little bleak in production, there's always publication - a book can be a noble thing. So, whether for the boards or a book - I plan sometime in the next five years to do some of these plays, maybe all:

*The Cherokee Night*

*More Sky*

*The Beating Heart*

*Torre*

*Suicide at the Green-house*

*The Golden Numbers*

*Italian Weather*

I'm not going to worry about how much ground they will cover. If they make audible and touching even a small reach of the human soul, I imagine they'll be worth doing. Did I tell you that Shakespeare - after an initial talent, an initial limited experience -- learned about people and life by writing? I think he did, at any rate. I see him being constantly astonished, dis-

mayed, glorified - by what came from the lips of his creations.
Maybe I'm wrong.

I really have got to quit talking about drama and writing plays.
It's very ridiculous from the best of the dramatists. It's
hardly their business. So do you mind shutting me up. And
save me, please, from making "statements to the Press" and writ-
ing those quaint pieces for the public - "The Dramatist Considers",
etc.

And while I think of it, I wish you'd throw away that chrono-
logy of my life. I don't like my life very well, after all, and
there's no point in its being made public. I suppose I'm
getting morbid about it -- if any of my plays ever merited any
public attention, I'd be terribly pleased if no one ever thought
of the play except as a play, and forgot to inquire who wrote it.

I've been spending a delightful morning - seeing that you say
perhaps I can have another book out soon - idly considering
what I'd like it to look like. Feeble amusement, I must say.
Incidentally, all the books came. I still think <u>John</u> is
Philip Barry's best play. I hope it gets a fine production
next time. The best thing in it, of course, is the off-stage
Christ. I wish somebody would do a play about Christ - custom
or no custom - and show him at his trade. His intelligence,
his suavity, his diplomacy, his masterly dialectic, his passion,
his cool wisdom, his towering rages, his simplicity, his cunning,
his nobility. He was a man, all right. And if those little -
(some of them) shambling disciples could create him, why can't
somebody else? I'd like to try it. It would be rewarding
failure.

Kym

Yeh wad on Roadside?

Provincetown, Mass.

August 31, 1929.

Dear Barrett:

Your generous approval of Roadside is great news for my birthday. I was all prepared for one of life's little ironies -- you've been wanting a long comedy from me or from Paul, "and no doubt Barrett won't like it, now that he's got it", I thought; So your enthusiasm is a gift - and a swell one.

About the title, I think I'd rather stick to Roadside. The play is not about Texas, but about them all, and I hope, through projection, about all people <u>outside</u> the regular and the ordinary. Borned in Texas immediately pulls the play down to one of those piddling little folk comedies about a rapscallion from the Lone Star state, who was hard to handle.

If you think of the play then as Roadside, the purely lyric beginning, or rather the purely irresponsible beginning of Act 4, won't seem so long, I think. I meant part of it as suspense, of course. I do think perhaps that part is too long as far as Pap is concerned. He suddenly became a little too loquacious for dramatic purposes, no doubt - and some of his long explanation - with his comments - can be cut; but it was so difficult to put my finger on just where, that I left it all, for the moment. I realized, of course, that the mad hilarity of Act 3 could not continue --- and I had an impulse to tighten it up, bring in all the culminating elements and end the <u>play</u> play there in the old manner. But I'm rather glad I didn't. Will you see if you can agree? I know by your tone, you don't mean that "slowness" in Act 4 as disastrous or killing slowness. I'll do something about it later.

No, I don't know the Tyl legends - I read part of a play by Ashley Dukes about him once, but I've forgotten what it was about, except that it seems to me it was picaresque. So is Roadside, of course. And crazy, too.

Barrett, will you be so good as to have these things done for me?:

1. Copyright <u>Roadside, Green Grow the Lilacs, and The Domino Parlor</u> for me in my name? I think they ought to be, in this day of law-suits.

2. Send me a copy of <u>The Domino Parlor</u>. I haven't one.

3. Be sure that copies of <u>Roadside</u> go immediately to the Theatre Guild, Ames, and Hopkins. (I don't think it will conflict with the Guild's attitude on <u>Green Grow, do you?!</u>)

4. Send me a beautiful new copy of <u>Roadside</u>.

5. Find out, if you can, what's happening to <u>Sump'n.</u>

6. Convey - to yourself - my great pleasure and delight in your response.

Ever,

Revisions in GREEN GROW THE LILACS

Front Matter -- Take out the page of Scenes, Folk Songs, etc. and insert
the enclosed new page, immediately after the title page.
Omit the Partial Glossary page entirely.

Scene 1 --

Page 2 - Line 5, after the song - Change Williams to Murphy.

Scene 2 --

Page 1 - Line 5 should read:
comfortable chairs. A small window at the back looks out
into the brilliant day.

Page 5 - Line 1 of Aunt Eller's third speech should read:
I've done about all the marryin I'm gonna do. Onct is
quite a plenty. (She chortles with delight)

Page 12- Stage direction, after Laurey's 2nd speech should read:
(She flies to the dresser, catches up her hair in the
back, etc. omitting entirely the phrase:
puts a rat in her hair quickly

Scene 3 --

Page 16- Emotional direction in Curly's 3rd speech -- Strike
out Coolly and put, instead:
(In a high excitement, but apparently cool and calm)

-0-

PLAYS

1921

1. Cuckoo, a farce in 1 act. --December.

1925

2. Knives From Syria, a comedy in 1 act --Jan. 1 - 14.

3. The Primitives, a sat. com. in 3 acts --Feb. - April 15.

4. Sump'n Like Wings, a play in 3 Episodes-June 28 - Aug. 21.

5. Big Lake, a tragedy in 2 parts --Nov. 18 - Dec. 18.

1926

6. A Lantern to See By, a tragedy in 3 acts --May 4 -- June 21.

7. The High Mountain, a play in 3 acts --Summer.

1927

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

8. Roadside, a comedy in 1 act -- (Practically wr. July.

9. The Lonesome West, a play in 3 acts -- July, Aug. Sept.

10. Rancer, a play in 3 acts --Nov. 8 - Jan. 2.

1928

11. The Domino Parlor, a play in 3 acts --Feb. 26 - Apr. 29.

The filing of
Received at

SD66844 NL=CULVERCITY CALIF 3

BARRETT H CLARK=

SAMUEL FRENCH INC 25 WEST 45 ST NEWYORK NY=
CONGRATULATIONS ON THE NEW ARRIVAL CALL HIM AFTER YOURSELF
OR SOME OTHER SWELL PEOPLE I SUGGEST EUGENE SIDNEY PHIL OR
PAUL AND THANKS FOR YOUR NEW BOOK IM TERRIBLY IMPRESSED AT
BEING A CHAPTER YOU HAVE DONE ME PROUD LOVE TO CECIL AND ALL
LYNN.

THE QUICKEST, SUREST AND SAFEST WAY TO SEND MONEY IS BY TELEGRAPH OR CABLE.

PATHE STUDIOS, INC.
CULVER CITY
CALIFORNIA

March 15, 1930.

Dear Barrett:

Here's _GREEN GROW THE LILACS._ Will you have it
bound at French's for me? And I must apologize for
not sending two copies. I had others made - but the
typist used this heavy thick paper for the first one -
and the others are too dim for the eyes of Guild readers!
So here's this - and I must say it's better - I'm really
excited about it. If the Guild isn't - who's hard luck
is that? Not mine, mon ami --!

Regards -

April 1, 1930.

Dear Barrett:

Here's the article Mr. Henry Roth has written for
Mr. Botkin's forthcoming FOLK-SAY. I think it's
swell, and flatteringly swell. If you agree, could
you write the ~~ boy and tell him so?~~ It would
be great encouragement of a genuinely brilliant talent.

Mr. Henry Roth,
Care - Miss Walton,
61 Morton St.
New York.

I'll write you soon. I'm up to my ears. Is the
Guild re-buying *Green Grow the Lilacs*? I like
Samson Raphaelson. I love New York.

Greetings!

PATHE STUDIOS, INC.

CULVER CITY
CALIFORNIA

April 11, 1930

Dear Barrett:

A copy of Virgil Geddes' book came today. I suppose it's your doing, although Mr. Edwards' card is in it. Thanks very much. I haven't seen these two plays and will read them as soon as I can manufacture leisure.

Sidney Howard leaves in a day or two for New York, for a week only, I think. You'll probably see him.

I'm finishing the Mary Lewis picture now.

I'm delighted about Marie Baumer and will try to see her. I hope she didn't sign her life away.

I'll have to postpone, again, writing a real letter. I hope to leave here in June. And when I say *hope* I mean *hope*.

I enclose a copy of my letter to Miss Helburn. You didn't say how you liked the revised script of *Green Grow the Lilacs*. Or have you seen it?

I haven't thanked you -- and I do now -- for the book in which you lay the speechmongers low.

Ever yours,
Lymne

P.S.

Many thanks for your word about writing to Mr. Roth. He will appreciate it -- as I will.

LR:MH

PATHE STUDIOS, INC.

CULVER CITY
CALIFORNIA

April 21, 1930

Dear Barrett:

Here's a copy of Miss Helburn's letter. She may be right. Certainly I still have an open mind about the last scene myself. The last paragraph of her letter may be only talk.

But it may be significant. What do you think?

Incidentally, Arthur Hopkins has written me a very wise note about ROADSIDE, which I know you will want to see. Here is a copy.

I haven't a copy of the new version, so I'll ask you to retrieve one for me in the name of "Artte." Will you send me one at once? Please.

What do you mean "Marie Baumer at Paramount?" They don't know her. Warner Brothers, to whom she sold PENNY ARCADE, never heard of her. Where is she hiding?

The first play in the Geddes book interested me by its fumbling austerity. There is darkness, strangeness and power -- but little wisdom. The second play seems to me quite empty. Shoot me if you want to. I can't see why he doesn't discipline himself. I, no less than you, would like him to be really good.

I have been up at Carmel this week-end getting the beginnings of a sunburn. I needed the rest. While there, I met Mr. Custer, the builder of the Golden Bough Playhouse. He seems very anxious to get going again, in spite of the inroads of the talkies. He wants, sometime, to do that unproduced play by Elmer Rice, LIFE IS REAL. He saw the German production. I told him to write you about unproduced American plays.

You knew, didn't you, that the fates are being generous to me again? Robert Edmond Jones is doing my sets for ROADSIDE.

I have had a recent look at my Prelude for THE SON OF PERDITION. It looks pretty good. I ache for

-2-

summer and a pencil. I shall go to Provincetown, that's
settled. Will you tell me Mrs. Erlanger's address at that
settlement? Is it the Hudson Guild? I want to give her
two hundred and fifty dollars for reasons you know. But
perhaps it would be wiser to wait until the colossal, out-
rageous, terrific success of ROADSIDE.

I see Sidney very seldom. He didn't leave last
week. He's been very busy -- as I have.

A very grateful mention of your kind note to
Henry Roth came in a letter from him. Thank you very much.

This letter has been full of odds and ends --
an exact replica of my mind.

My love to the family and yourself.

(COPY)

April 16, 1930

Dear Lynn Riggs:

Thanks for your letter. I have
been meaning to write to you before to tell you
that I think the play much improved and on the
whole in very good shape.

We still feel that you haven't
quite succeeded with the last act, and I hope
you won't stop thinking about it. If you can
get a last act as good as the other four, you
will have a pretty fine piece of work; not that
we expect violent theatre in the last act, but
anything that will help sustain the suspense
will be of real value.

I'm afraid I shan't see you till
the fall as I am sailing very shortly.

Most cordial greetings to you --
and we are looking forward with keen pleasure to
getting to work on the play in the early fall.

PATHE STUDIOS, INC.

CULVER CITY
CALIFORNIA

May 6, 1930

Dear Barrett:

The script of GREEN GROW THE LILACS
arrived so please ignore my note of a few days
ago -- unless you can dig up a copy of the
original version.

I've had a long letter from Miss Helburn. It seems that Mr. Herbert Biberman is to direct the play.

Sidney Howard has an interesting
slant on THE DOMINO PARLOR. I'll tell you about
it.

I'll be back in early June.

Hastily,

PATHE STUDIOS, INC.

CULVER CITY
CALIFORNIA

May 13, 1930

Dear Barrett:

I hope you will understand about The DOMINO PARLOR episode. I don't know why I should deal very much any more with dabblers in the theatre. I don't mean this arrogantly, as you will know. I mean only that the best kind of theatrical experience and intelligence can be, and I am sure will be, valuable to me.

As to The DOMINO PARLOR itself, I really want it to be a fine and stirring play. It needs work. I know now approximately what kind of work. And when it is satisfactory to us again, we'll offer it to the producer we think best at that time.

If I said I'd be back in New York on June 1st, I'm just a liar. I do expect to leave here at least by that date. Shall I fly?

A letter from Mr. Biberman suggests my meeting him in Denver for a conference. Perhaps I may manage it. But honestly, as I have just written him, I don't know what he'll find in ranch life that bears on GREEN GROWING THE LILACS. It's a play about a golden fruition in farm life, which happens to have a cowboy in it.

I have seen Marie Baumer and her mother. She is at Paramount as you said. But she came a little after my first attempts to find her. Don't laugh, but she is now busily racking her brains to find a story for Clara Bow. Have you noticed the gradual change in the tone of my Hollywood spirit? A curious thing happens. Out here, Broadway, which we all despise there, becomes a sainted virgin, the final mecca of all that is brilliant, beautiful, divine in drama. That, of course, is silly, too.

My regards to you all.

Provincetown, Mass.

June 23, 1930

Dear Barrett:

It was very stupid of me not to announce my where-
abouts. I'm sorry you had to telegraph. I've done no
work since I came, but begin to feel like it again.

I want to tell you first that if your North Carolina
couple will drop a line to Miss Mary Heaton Vorse,
Provincetown, I am sure she will be able to take care of
them. She has an old house with a beach in front of it
and I think I heard her say she has a room next to a bath
for twelve dollars a week or some such sum. At any rate,
she'll be able to do something about them even if they
should come up unannounced.

Thanks very much for the copy of *Hotel Universe*.
I think it must be Phil Barry's best, though I still have
enormous admiration for *John*. I am grateful for the word
Phil Barry sends me. Incidentally, some day historians of
the epoch will find an extraordinary state of friendly
concern between playwrights. What I mean is, they all
seem to want the others to succeed with the kind of work
they prefer to do.

Here is an announcement of the Wharf Theatre. You'll
see from it that it will be worth your while to come up
to see some of the new plays.

If Samuel French publishes Hatcher Hughes' *Ruint*, will
you please send me a copy?

I am enclosing a copy of a letter from Miss Janet Cohn
of Brandt & Brandt for the files; and here is also a copy
of my answer.

I have had several telegrams from Arthur Hopkins. The
gist of them is that Walter Huston cannot open 'till December
first nor play longer than March 1st. Mr. Hopkins thinks this
is not practical and thinks it better to have someone else
play the part. He wants to know my opinion. I wired him that
I agreed absolutely. Last year he told me that the man who
played *The Westerner* in his London production of *Burlesque*
would be very good as Texas. What his plans are now I don't
know, but he evidently still wants to open early in the fall.

I feel so strongly that the copies of plays of mine
should not be available for a while that I'd like to ask you
to withdraw them entirely. I know that if either one of the
two plays is a great success we'll have to turn down offers
for some of the others and I don't like to do that. In the

first place, it would be wrong, I think, to have another
play produced within a year after the Guild one and the
Hopkins one. The Domino Parlor isn't quite ready, as you
know; and The Lonesome West would be terrible in the
wrong hands. Will you let me know what you think about
this?

I've seen Susan Glaspell and read her new play.
I like it very much. The Guild ought to do it. They
probably will eventually, as soon as they realize how
important Emily Dickinson has become.

Marjorie Seligman sends me a copy of the new Theatre
Magazine, which has some news on page 28. Have you seen
it?

This is another one of those scrappy letters, a most
typical one, I realize. I shall write you a special one
soon insisting that you come up for a few days.

My best to you.

As ever,

Provincetown, Mass.

July 5, 1930.

Dear Barrett:

Why don't you come down next week - or the week after -
and have a look at the Wharf Theatre productions? All the
plays - with the exception of the one this week - are new
ones, and never before produced. There ought to be some
plays for Samuel French among them. And if you saw them
prior to Broadway, you'd have first crack at them. Couldn't
the firm send you?

I'd like very much too if you could persuade Susan Glaspell
to let you publish *Alison's House*. I know she isn't quite
satisfied with her agent, and she certainly is one of the
good ones in America. If you could handle her work, you
know, she'd take the place she ought to have in the American
dray-ma. Come on down and do some proselyting --

About *Rancour* - whatever you say is all right.

I've seen a production at the Cape Playhouse - Alice Brady
in *Enter, Madame!* It was excellent. I wonder why that
house doesn't do some original plays?

Ida Rauh and I are seriously considering trying to get the
Wharf Theatre next summer to do some new plays. I'd like to
do one of Conkle's, one of Marie Baumer's, a bill of one-actors,
perhaps one of Susan Glaspell's, etc. A professional company
of course. What do you think?

I do hope you'll come up. You can swim all you want. And
get something done, too. What do you say?

PATRONS ARE REQUESTED TO FAVOR THE COMPANY BY CRITICISM AND SUGGESTION CONCERNING ITS SERVICE

1201-S

WESTERN
UNION

NEWCOMB CARLTON, PRESIDENT

J. C. WILLEVER, FIRST VICE-PRESIDENT

The filing time as shown in the date line on full-rate telegrams and day letters, and the time of receipt at destination as shown on all messages, is STANDARD TIME.

Received at

RDB901 51 NL=CHAPELHILL NCAR 2

BARRETT H CLARK, CARE SAMUEL FRENCH=

25 WEST 45 ST NEWYORK NY=

I MAILED TODAY REVISED PREFACE PLEASE CHANGE FOURTH LINE OF
PAGETWO TO READ AS FOLLOWS AND THE NATURE OF THE FLOW OF
SPIRIT FROM EACH DETERMINES BOTH THE QUALITY OF THEIR
CONFLICT AND THE SHAPE OF THEIR STORY PERIOD THIS FLOW MAY
BE VIOLENT ETC AS IN COPY YOU HAVE=

LYNN.

1931 FEB 2 PM 11 26

TELEGRAMS MAY BE TELEPHONED TO WESTERN UNION FROM ANY PRIVATE OR PAY-STATION TELEPHONE

Carolina Inn
Chapel Hill, N.C.

April 5, 1931.

Dear Barrett:

The news from Syracuse is very swell. It must have
had a very good production. Thanks for sending me the
letters. Here they are back.

Here also is a clipping from the *Chapel Hill Weekly* which may amuse you.

I haven't had a chance yet to talk to Paul about the
scheme for the anthology, but George O'Neil and I have
conferred about it. He thinks Susan Glaspell, John Dos
Passos ought to be included. He thinks also, and so do
I, that MacKaye, Boyd, Millay and Kreymborg don't quite
fit into the scheme.

If you agree to Susan and Dos, George will write them
and probably see them this summer anyway. He also will
be responsible for a yes or no from Julia Peterkin. Paul
will see about Stallings. I will see about Wilbur. With
this nucleus I don't think we need to worry about who
else will be included. We can stumble on a few good
plays between now and Labor Day, I should think.

Let me know what you think of the above.

Some suitcases I had stored have just arrived from the
Drama Book Shop. I find in them the complete original
manuscript of *Green Grow the Lilacs*--complete except for
a page or two I gave Marjorie Seligman. Do you want it?
If you do, it's yours.

I have been reading *Rancor*. It's not so bad after all.
I could do things with it, if you think it's worth pub-
lishing along with other plays to carry it on.

I thought the opera silly.

It's raining.

I'm reading the play, or rather the first four scenes
of it, which is all I'll have time for, on Sunday, April
19th.

How are you?

Carolina Inn,
Chapel Hill, N. C.,

April 8, 1931.

Dear Barrett:

Here is an enclosure from the Hedgerow Theatre. I think Jasper would do a fine job. Let's let him do it, money or no money. Perhaps if you asked him how much he could conveniently pay and just leave it to him (as we'd finally have to do anyway!) that ought to take care of it, don't you think?

We are going to Charleston Friday. At least we intend to. We also have an invitation from Julia Peterkin. We'll see her and talk about the anthology with her.

The play progresses--slowly. Paul is working furiously at another one.

The enclosed clipping astonishes me completely. How did this happen, I wonder?

As ever,

Claremore, Oklahoma,

May 8th, 1934

Dear Barrett:

I suppose you think I've dropped into a well and in
a sense I have, but my telegram must have told you
that I had got out.

There are a lot of things to say and I'll probably
forget half of them, but here goes:

I am back in Claremore and after a day or two I'm
going on some trips with my Father to various places.
I thought it would be very smart to have pictures of
the various scenes for *The Cherokee Night*. The Clare-
more Mound ones are the most important and then there
are the Nowata scenes, the Bartlesville exterior, the
woods where the nigger was found, etc. I expect to
have a good time. And George Milburn of *Oklahoma Town*
may possibly go with us. He wants to and it would be
fun having him. I must tell you now that I didn't
spring the anthology on him for various reasons. His
main concern at the moment is - and it should be - some
more of those sketches and short stories, although the
first act of his secret play is finished. I've insist-
ed that it go to you first.

What do you think of Susan's getting the prize? I was
surprised a little, in view of my conviction about Phil
Barry, but it was a very good surprise for the reasons
you pointed out to me. I said so rather publicly and
here is a clipping. It sounds damned condescending as
it appears on the page, but what I actually said was
sincere enough.

All right on the anthology matter; I'll begin at once.

I read *Scene 1* very privately at the University. I'm
still getting réponses. It's a go (or it will be
if I'll just get to work again.)

Lynn Riggs, Four Hundred and Thirty-two East Manhattan, Santa Fe, New Mexico.

Dear Barrett:

The play has gone to you. I should like scripts to
go to:

1. The Theatre Guild

2. Arthur Hopkins

3. Chester Erskin

4. Cheryl Crawford

(At whatever her summer address is)

I am, myself, sending a copy to Jim Cozzens. The
above, if you don't decide to chuck the play in the
waste-basket.

I have a new play stirring, but doubt if I will get
to it this summer. In a week, however, if I still
feel like it, I'll start on the last half of THE
CHEROKEE NIGHT.

Here is Maxwell Anderson's latest letter. Perhaps
you have received the play by now. If so, how is
it? I haven't heard from Susan Glaspell.

Here is a receipt from The American Dramatists for
a bill which French paid. Will you file it for
me, please, or have Norell do it?

The clippings from Jasper's production of A LANTERN
TO SEE BY are simply swell. Thatman certainly must
know what my plays are about.

The enclosed letter from the University of Oklahoma
Press gets me out of a difficulty. But I have made
the gesture anyway.

How do you stand the heat?

I'll be waiting to hear your word on THE SON OF PER-
DITION.

July 23, 1931.

Dear Barrett:

I don't know whether I told you or not, but I'm
making a movie of Santa Fe and having the time of my
life. It will be ready in about two weeks. Better
come out.

I've just had the enclosed letter from Arthur Hopkins.
Perhaps you've heard from him, too.

I suppose there is no word from Erskin or The Guild.
As soon as the Fiesta is over I shall either go to
California for two weeks or start again on THE
CHEROKEE NIGHT. I'm placing no particular hope on
a production for THE SON OF PERDITION this year,
so if you or the office are impatient, don't be. As
Hopkins says, it is very special. And naturally it
will need a great deal of courage and backing to do
it. By the way, Jim Cozzens is very pleased with
it.

Thanks very much for Arthur's book, which just came.
Your introduction is in your happy manner.

I've had a letter from Riebling which -- but here
it is enclosed. I'm writing him to say go ahead if
French approves.

What news of the Anthology? I shall have to use
THE LONESOME WEST, I see that; but I've been reading
it and it still seems pretty good after four years.
I hear from Provincetown that George's play is
finished. I've turned up a new play, a first, out
here, which, if it hasn't been arranged for, I'll
have sent to you.

I met Jacques Cartier at the Cyrus McCormick ranch
out here this week, and he did a terrific song and dance
about Jasper's production of A LANTERN TO SEE BY. He
says it is the best play I ever wrote, that Jasper
ever produced, and practically that the world ever
saw. Unfortunately, it isn't that good and I doubt
if it should be produced in New York in spite of all.

Thank Charley or Jack or yourself -- whoever started
the *Herald Tribune* on its way to me again.

Regards.

As ever,

432 East Manhattan,
Santa Fe, N.M.

August 19, 1931.

P.S. I think it's great about the production in Brussels. I wish I could see it. Also, you think you're very smart sending me a review I can't read, but I've just arranged to have it translated. Now I shall know what all those important looking words mean.

Please send me five copies of THE IRON DISH or
ask Doubleday to.

SUBMITTING
MANUSCRIPTS FOR
PUBLICATION

We are at all times willing to read
manuscripts of plays submitted to us. In
sending manuscripts bear in mind the fol-
lowing points:

1. All manuscripts must be typewritten (in English) on one side of the sheet only.

2. Manuscripts should be well bound and covered.

3. Every manuscript, no matter how many sent by the same author, must bear the correct name and address of the sender.

4. We are not responsible for the loss of manu-
scripts sent to us, though every care will be
taken.

5. All manuscripts are read, as a rule, within four weeks of receipt.

6. All manuscripts must include stamps for return.

7. We cannot return manuscripts by registered mail.

8. Do not send music, photographs, clippings, etc., unless requested to do so.

9. No receipt will be given for manuscripts.

SAMUEL FRENCH

25 West 45th Street, New York City
811 West 7th Street, Los Angeles

- Copy -

Dear Lynn -

I wish I could give you a definite answer about
<u>Cherokee Night</u>, but I can't yet. It depends on what I have
to do in Radio City. I can let you know in about a week I
think.

One of the best plays ever written by an American,
if you ask me. I thought Atkinson was out of his mind when he
wrote that review. Or he must have seen two other plays instead.

Always,

Bobby.

360 East 55th St.
N. Y. C. Aug. 10, 1932.

LYNN RIGGS

October 23, 1933

Dear Barrett:

Your two hesitant suggestions - both about the same thing - have got me a little worried. I'm going to sit down and read the play chronologically again after being away from it for almost a year.

The point of my doing the production at Iowa was to see whether the play worked that way or not. It did work - nearly everybody will testify to that. Some day the producers will learn that if a play has a certain structure there is a reason for it. I'm quite willing to be amiable or resilient about things that don't matter very much in the theater. This particular idea they have about _The Cherokee Night_ is aimed at the very root of the play's meaning. However, I'll try to see how much I can feel the play some other way. I doubt if I can. I'd be dishonest to tell you otherwise. Production isn't so important to me to make me agree to something I don't believe. You know that, of course.

I told Helen Westley about the production in Iowa and about my intention to direct my own plays in New York. She was very excited about both things and said I really ought to tell the Guild all about it. I don't see any point in that just now - because I can't be in New York at the moment - but some day I'll tell Terry Helburn all about it.

I've just come from ten days in Santa Fe. I'm going to build a house there in March or April if I have any money. I am about to embark on a project now which I'd like you to know about. George has all the details. Please ask him to tell you for me - it's rather a long story.

Paul has just moved into my apartment house. Elizabeth arrived Sunday. Paul is about to do

LYNN RIGGS

-2-

a job for Paramount, I believe.

I'm a terrible correspondent I realize. I was up
to my neck in <u>Stingaree</u> for RKO until I went to
Santa Fe. How was the summer? How are the urchins?
How are you and Cecil?

Affectionate greetings,

r.s. I'm sending you my sonnets.

The Montecito,
6650 Franklin,
Hollywood, Calif.

THE MONTECITO
APARTMENTS

6650 FRANKLIN AVENUE
HOLLYWOOD
Gladstone 5124

November 15, 1933

Dear Barrett:

George will have told you by this time about the Roosevelt picture. It is still a secret, of course. We've just finished a forty-eight page treatment and put it in the hands of Harry Edington, who is manager for both of us out here. We are waiting now to see what Harry thinks of it and what Rosalie Stewart (she's the head of his story department) thinks of it. We have a conference this afternoon. If they think it's in shape to present, they'll go ahead.

Mr. Galt Bell, Director of the Theater Mart, (their present bill is a really stunning, well-directed, well-acted version of _The Drunkard_ as first produced by P. T. Barnum. It's been running twenty weeks with great success) came to see me the other day about doing a production of _Green Grow The Lilacs_, to follow _The Drunkard_ there at the Mart, or to be offered in another play-house. He's on professional rating, I believe - since he pays his actors, etc.- and I'm wondering in this case if the Theater Guild has to be consulted in the matter.

I told him I'd write you saying, "Please put no obstacles in the way of this production." I remember now that probably this would be handled by the Los Angeles office. But he'll write you soon to ask about it.

Terribly sorry to hear about Charlie. Jack told me about it. I suppose there's nothing I can do. But if you're able to get messages to him, and it seems propitious to do so, please convey my sympathy and my affectionate concern. I've seen plenty of cases of T.B. cured. So I'm hoping everything will come out all right.

What's happening to George? The so and so doesn't deign to write me.

Paul and Elizabeth are here - in the same apartment house - as I must have told you. Paul is growling about his job at

LYNN RIGGS

February 21, 1934

Dear Barrett:

Will you please ask Norell - or whoever will
do it for me - to get me a blank from the
proper Collector of Internal Revenue there
and send it to me at once? I have to get
my income tax off soon, as you know.

I had hoped to have my account with French
before me before I went about this. But
I suppose it isn't actually necessary.
I'd like to see where I stand with French's
however, as soon as possible, as I wrote
you some time ago.

I've taken a house until April - when I
hope to go to Santa Fe. Here's a picture
of it. Here, also, is a picture of my
Scotty which Joan Crawford gave me. He's
six months old and called the Baron.

Here is a brilliant opportunity for me to
write you a long letter - and I'll have to
forego it again. But soon I hope to do it.
Meantime, best regards.

As ever,

800 North Crescent Heights Blvd.,
Hollywood, Calif.

March 6, 1934

Dear Barrett:

Here is my income tax statement. Would
you please ask the office to forward it
to the proper authorities there? I don't
seem to have the address.

In partial answer to your question about
the "once active brain" - I'm writing a
play. The first act is almost finished.
I've got enough command of it so that I
can finish it from time to time - certainly
when I go to Santa Fe.

My statement came. Please thank Harry
for me. For the first time, I had no
statement whatever about my books. Hasn't
that checking been done yet - or what is
the reason?

At the moment, Paramount has given me a
novel to do - which, if we can agree on
method of treatment, I'm going to do. It's
called Andrew's Harvest, and is by John
Evans, son of Mabel Dodge Lujan, and a
friend of mine. It's very grand soil
stuff.

When is Paul coming out? George is still
busy on Sutter's Gold. Dan is doing some-
thing, I believe, for United Artists. Court of Monte Cristi
However, I imagine if Helen Gahagan puts
on Moor Born this spring, he'll dash on
for it. George hopes to go east in a few
weeks and live in Connecticut or some place
he can find a pleasant hut by the sea.

THE MONTECITO
APARTMENTS

November 7, 1934

Dear Barrett:

Thanks for the word about *More Sky*. I am leaving early next week for my house in Santa Fe. I will get the *More Sky* script ready, and finish *Russet Mantle*.

Did you see the nice long article by Lee Mitchell in the November *Theatre Arts*? The scene designs came out very well, I think, and ought to help the play quite a lot.

Sorry Paul's play couldn't hang on.

I hope to God I have a play on this season!

Please ask Jack to remember my Santa Fe address:

770 Acequia Madre,
Santa Fe, N.M.

Best regards.

As ever,

P.S. I'm lunching with Gelt Bell today about *Green Grow*. I imagine he wants to start right away. If it doesn't sell to the movies before, this production ought to launch it.

PARAMOUNT PRODUCTIONS, INC.

PRODUCER OF

Paramount Pictures

5451 MARATHON ST.

HOLLYWOOD, CALIF.

TELEPHONE
HOLLYWOOD 2411

CABLE ADDRESS
"FAMPILM"

July 1, 1936.

Dear Barrett:

I most certainly am interested in the
plan of The Dramatists Guild on amateur rights. You
may certainly count on my cooperation, and barring
my present agreements, turning over my new plays to
the Agency.

I am writing Sidney Howard as you
suggest.

Could Duffy or somebody take a private
peek at my contract with Samuel French just to see
how tied up I am. I don't believe it's for very
long. Yes, my obligations to Samuel French are
all discharged (the financial ones)

I am trying to finish here by at most
July 5th. Then I go to Santa Fe.

This sounds like a swell thing for
you - and I'm delighted.

Best regards.

LR:PS

Lynn Riggs - 770 Acequia Madre - Santa Fe, New Mexico

October 6, 1936.

Dear Barrett:

A hasty note to ask a favor, as usual.

Kenneth Patchen, the poet, and Harvey Breit, have written
a play about the Black Legion, called _Go On Living_, and I
wonder if, with your new position there is any time to
read first plays.

I have promised to ask you - and if you think you can sug-
gest someone who might be interested in it.

The play is very faulty, and I have made some drastic crit-
icism of it. However, and I think they are right, they
hate to mess it up -- without their own emotional conviction,
before a manager sees it. Because the manager will do
enough messing of it, as you know!

Anyway, could you let me know by air if you have any time
to read it.

Listen, Mr. Clark, Riggs is ensconced in his new study --
and is it a beauty! -- and writing _A World Elsewhere_. I'm
still in the planning stage - but I've assembled the
right people now to tell the tale, and the first act plan
is approximately settled.

I've talked with George Gershwin also, and we are agreed
about the problems of opera -- (I did tell you this, didn't
I? Gershwin has asked me to do an opera with him) -- and
when I am not wrestling with the play I am trying to find
the right story for the opera. It will be New Mexican.

My God, it is beautiful here. I hope you are happy, I
hope the family is happy. When you come to see me?
Because now I can put you up.

Love,

P. S. See Santa Fe - and us all probably in very silly
poses in the October 15 issue of Vogue-Vanity Fair.

OCT 12 1936

Lynn Riggs = 770 Acequia Madre = Santa Fe, New Mexico

October 26, 1936.

Dear Barrett:

I wired you the situation about *More Sky*. Perhaps it was an oversight and that morally I am obligated, but I don't see why I should be. French has made quite enough off of me and will continue to do so with the plays they have tied up.

I don't seem able to find my/memorable exclusive agent contract. I remember that at one time I signed a two year agreement in the last year or two, appointing French my exclusive agent for whatever work I did during that period. But I may be wrong about this being so recent. Do you ever have any dealings with any of the boys at French's which would make it possible for you to find out, without incriminating yourself?

The point I am getting around to, is this: There must be someone who could handle my affairs better than French, now that they no longer have you. I am not sure I want to make the change right at this time but I'd like to know exactly what my situation is.

If it is difficult for you to find out for me, please don't bother. I'll figure it all out when I have my new play finished.

I should like to sign right now the agreement to turn over to the Guild the non-professional acting rights for all my plays to be produced during the next five years (with the exception of those which Samuel French has control of at the moment.)

Best regards to you.

As ever,

OCT 29 1936

Box 516,
La Jolla, Calif.

Feb. 7, 1940.

Dear Barrett:

Do you know I've had nothing but rotten luck since
you left French - and thus me? Well, there you
are - and it's your fault!

You must have gathered when I needed that $100.
from Hagedorn, that the edge was pretty close las t
fall. The simple truth is that since last May,
when I sta ted my willingness to go to work, there
has been no job for me in Hollywood. I don't
understand it at all. I know Rosalie is on the
job, but it's simply that I've had no play on
Broadway since 1936, and no hit picture since The
Plainsman.

Forgive my coming to you - you'd troubles enough
of your own. But I do need your advice ba dly.

It's this - if Hollywood doesn't want me, I've got
to find a living somewhere else. I want to ask
if you think it's possible someone could manage
a lecture tour for me? I've got a lot of new
and to me pretty exciting ideas about what the
the theatre should be -- and surely my recond
ought to be good enough over the country to get
small audiences. Sidney used to say I was ten times
as well know all over America than he was.
If you find time, would you tell me what you
think. I've got to do something, and I've got to
do it soon. I'm tired of the wolf baying.

I've asked Mary Hunter about radio, too. Maybe
there's a chance there.

Meantime, I'm writing a new play. Lord, it looks
promising! I hope it works out.

How are things with you and the family?

Many regards to you all,

FEB 10 1940

Box 516,
La Jolla, Calif.

June 10, 1940.

Dear Barrett:

Of course you'd wait till I'm not in New Mexico to pay it a visit! But I'm glad you seem to be on the way to see it at last, even though I think you're pretty late, my friend.

Here are some of the things you should do:

Stay in tourist camps. Cheaper and more fun. By the time you get out there, you'll know how to spot the good ones. Anyway, there are recommended ones; any gas station has the folders.

See a few things in Santa Fe. The Old Governor's Palace, on the Plaza. It's now a museum.

Frijoles Cliff Dwellings, some twenty or thirty miles from Santa Fe. Also the ruins of Puye -- not so spectacular, but more of a sense of the life that went on. It's not far also.

And the largest and most typical of the Indian Pueblos. Santo Domingo. Some twenty-five miles from Santa Fe.

And Taos. A magnificent scary place. Nearby, away from the barren mesa are wooded places and canyons with streams and fish if you care for bosky dells.

In Santa Fe itself --also see the Archaeological Museum, which is something. And, in spite of the name, the House of Indian Religion.

If my friends the Knees (she's a painter, he's a photographer) haven't come west by then, see them in Santa Fe. They know everything, and have a be-yoo-tiful place in Tesuque, nine miles from Santa Fe. I'll send you to them, if you'll let me know. They know everything. And are swell.

Don't go near Albuquerque, that horrible town. If you care for caves, Carlsbad, near Roswell, is something. And in Roswell is Paul Horgan, the novelist --and Brock Pemberton keeps announcing a play of his -- and the Knees will send you to him, as well as me. (The only thing in Albuquerque is Erna Fergusson, Harvey's and Francis's sister.)

I may be going east soon. Hang On To Love scheduled Locust Valley, Aug. 12, and NY. later -- so they say. Hopkins, with Hanna and Chaney to sponsor. Write me if you're really going to do it --- and I'll think of other things. Regards,

JUN 21 1940

27 Brewster Street,
Provincetown, Mass.

July 27, 1944.

Dear Barrett:

The answer is Yes, yes, yes.

So here you are, as always, looking out for that rare and impossible breed, the playwright. It's just like you. And I don't know how anybody has ever gotten anywhere - in themselves or publicly - without your generosity and kindly attention.

I'm up here working. I started a novel - but it turned out to be a play (I guess I'll never write a novel) - and it looks highly promising. It's called *Dark Encounter*, and it's just that. It begins on June 6 this year, and ends the next night. I'm three fourths through it now. No one can fail, at this juncture, to want to see the rest of it - so in the last quarter, I hope to deliver. Pray for me. My love to you and to Cecil, Nancy, Mollie, Babbie.

As ever,

And couldn't we meet and
talk - this committee -
at least some?