At present the taste is "down with light plays, down with literary plays." They want plays with dramatic situations, intrigue, s.e.x conflict. There is no use in giving the public what it does not want and what they ought to have. I am just finding that out, with much cost.

_To a French agent:_

It seems a little reckless to be asked to pay $2,500 for the privilege of reading a new French play. The author seems to want to get rich quickly. I would be willing to add to his wealth if he has something that can be produced without such a preliminary penalty.

_To W. Lestocq:_

When one talks to an English author about "Diplomacy," he says, "Oh, that's a theatrical play!" I wish I could get another like it.

_To an English manager:_

A hundred theaters here are a few too many. Houses have closed on a Sat.u.r.day night without any warning. Boston, Chicago, and Philadelphia have been better. You see we have this wonderful country to fall back on, which makes it different from London.

_To an author in London:_

What you say is quite true; a good play is a good play; but the difficulty I find is to ascertain through the public and the box-office what _they_ think is a good play. Our opinion is only good for ourselves. But give me a dramatic play and I'll put it at once to the test.

_To Hubert Henry Davies, the dramatist, during an interim of that author's activities:_

It grieves me when I can't get your material going, especially as I want to come over as soon as I can and get one of those nice lunches in your nice apartment.

_To the manager of an up-state New York theater regarding an impending first-night performance:_

I hope we shall draw a representative audience the first night. I know audiences with you are sometimes a little reluctant about first nights. I can't understand this myself. In my opinion there is an extra thrill for them in the experience of a first performance, as it is a special event.

_To Granville Barker, January, 1913:_

I am very jealous of the Barrie plays, and I do want them for my own theater for revivals.... I hear such good reports about your Shakespearian work that I am awfully pleased. I have had a Marconi from Shakespeare himself, in which he speaks highly of what you have done for his work. I am sure this will be as gratifying to you as it is to me.

_Alluding to his painful rheumatism in a letter to George Edwardes, the producer, in England, January, 1913:_

I can't run twelve yards, but I can drink a lot of that bottled lemonade of yours when I get over. In fact, at the moment I think that is the best thing running in London.

_In February, 1913, Frohman made frequent trips to Baltimore to rehea.r.s.e and superintend the production of his plays in that city. He has this to say of Baltimore in a letter to Tunis F. Dean, manager of a theater there:_

I was glad to have an opportunity of seeing your fine theater, for I have decided on a very important production with one of our leading stars there next season. So that I shall spend a week in Baltimore. I like that. There is no one living in Baltimore that has a greater regard for that fine, dignified city. I have had it for years, and with the beautiful theater and my feeling for Baltimore and you at the head of that theater, I am looking forward with pleasure to coming to you next season.

_Frohman was simple, direct, and forcible in his criticism of plays. In rejecting a French play, he wrote to Michael Morton in defense of his judgment, New York, February, 1913:_

I was awfully glad you made arrangements for the play, the one I don't like, and I hope the other fellow is right. These three-cornered French plays are going to have a hard time over here in the future unless they contain something that is pretty big, novel, or human. The guilty wife is a joke here now, and they have lots of fun when they play these scenes in these plays. The American and English play is different. They get there quicker in a different manner instead of the old-fashioned scheme. Of course, French plays, as you say, may be laid in England and in America. I understand that. But even then it seems to be about the same as if they were in France.

_His brief, epigrammatic style of criticism is evident in a letter to Charles B. Dillingham, wherein he speaks of a certain play under consideration:_

I think the end of the play is not good. It is that old-time stand-around-with-a-gla.s.s-of-wine-in-your-hand and wish success to the happy people.

_Extracts from an interview with Frohman which he wrote for the London papers, March, 1913:_

There will be no change in my work of producing for the London stage. I shall continue to do so at my own theaters or with other London managers just as long as I am producing on any stage, and I fear that will be for a long time yet, as I am younger now than I was twenty years ago.

_Prior to his departure for England he wrote the following to John Drew in March, 1913:_

Thanks for your fine letter. It is like this, John: I hope to get off next week, but I don't seem to be able to get the accommodations I want on either one of the steamers that I should like to travel on, and that sail next week. I need a little special accommodation on account of my leg, which still refuses to answer my call and requires the big stick.

_To Alfred Sutro, in January, 1913, on the current taste in plays:_

These American plays with thieves, burglars, detectives, and pistols seem to be the real things over here just now. None of them has failed.

_Memorandum for his office-boy, Peter, for a week's supply of his favorite drinks:_

Get me plenty of orange-juice, lemon soda, ginger ale, sarsaparilla, b.u.t.termilk.

_To Alfred Sutro, 1913:_

Haddon Chambers sails to-day. You may see him before you see this.

He leaves behind him what I think will give him many happy returns (box-office) of the season, as Miss Barrymore is doing so well with his "Tante."

_To W. Lestocq, concerning one of his leading London actresses:_

Miss t.i.theridge is all right, as I wrote Morton, if her emotions can be kept down, and if she can try to make the audience act more, and act less herself.

_To Michael Morton regarding an actress:_

She needs to be told that real acting is not to act, but to make the audience feel, and not feel so much herself.

_To the editor of a popular monthly magazine upon its first birthday:_

I understand that your September issue will be made to mark ----'s first birthday. Judging from your paper your birthday plans miss the issue; because---- becomes a year younger every September. I do _not_ congratulate you even upon this fact; because you cannot help it. I do _not_ congratulate your readers because they get your paper so very cheap. I _do_ congratulate myself, however, for calling attention to these wonderful facts.

_To W. Lestocq, referring to a statement made by R. C. Carton, the dramatist:_

I don't quite understand what he means by "holding up" the play.

Over here it is a desperate expression--one that means pistols and murder, and all that. I presume it means something different in London, where Carton lives.

_To Mrs. C. C. Cushing, the playwright, declining an invitation:_

It is impossible to come and see you because I haven't got Cottage No. 4, but I've got Cell No. 3 on the stage of the Empire Theater, where I am pa.s.sing the summer months.

_Even Frohman's cablegrams reflected his humor. In 1913 Billie Burke was ill at Carlsbad, so he cabled her some cheering message nearly every day. Here is a sample:_

Drove past your house to-day and ran over a dog. Your brother glared at me.

_When Blanche Bates's first baby was born (she was at her country house near Ossining at the time), Frohman sent her this message:_

Ossining has now taken its real place among the communities of the country. Congratulations.

_To Alfred Sutro, January, 1913:_

I was glad to hear from you. First let me strongly advise you to take the comedy side for the Alexander play. I honestly believe, unless it is something enormous, and for big stars and all that, the other side is no good any more. For the present, anyway, I speak of my own country. The usual serious difficulties between a husband and wife of that cla.s.s--really they laugh at here now, instead of touching their emotions. They have gone along so rapidly. Take my advice in this matter, do! I am glad you have dropped that scene from the third act of your Du Maurier play.