The Truth"--these are
instances of his unusual vein. One finds it is by these fine points,
these obvious clevernesses that Fitch paved the way to popular
success. But there was far more to him than this--there was the
literary sense which gave one the feeling of reality in his plays--not
alone because of novelty or familiarity of scene, but because of the
uttered word.

Human foibles and frailties were, therefore, his specialty. Out of his
vast product of playwriting, one remembers stories and scenes, rather
than personages; one recalls characteristics rather than characters;
one treasures quick interplay of words rather than the close reason
for such. Because of that, some are right in attributing to him a
feminine quickness of observation, or rather a minute observation for
the feminine. That is why he determined, in "The City," to dispel the
illusion that he could not write a man's play, or draw masculine
characters. Yet was not _Sam Coast_, in "Her Own Way," almost the
equal of _Georgiana Carley_?

I recall, one midnight--the week before Mr. Fitch sailed on his last
trip to Europe--he read me "The City," two acts of which were in
their final shape, the third in process of completion. There used to
be a superstition among the managers to the effect that if you ever
wished to consider a play by Fitch, he must be kept from reading it
himself; for if he did, you would accept it on the spot. All the
horror of that powerful arraignment of city life, and the equally
powerful criticism of country life, was brought out on this evening we
were together, and I was able to see just where, as a stage director,
Clyde Fitch must have been the mainstay at rehearsals. He never lived
to give the final touches to his manuscript of "The City,"--touches
which always meant so much to him; he was dead by the time rehearsals
were called, and there slipped from the performance some of the
significant atmosphere he described to me.

There comes vividly to my mind his questions after the reading--trying
out his effects on me, so to speak. Rapidly he reviewed the work on
the third act he had planned for the mor
The Truth"--these are 
 instances of his unusual vein. One finds it is by these fine period, 
 these obvious ingenuity that Fitch paved the way to popular 
 achiever. But there was far more to him than this -- there was the 
 literary sense which give one the feeling of reality in his play -- not 
 alone because of novelty or familiarity of setting, but because of the 
 uttered word. 

 Human foibles and infirmity were, therefore, his specialty. Out of his 
 vast product of playwriting, one remembers narrative and scenes, rather 
 than personages; one recall characteristics rather than characters; 
 one treasures flying interplay of words rather than the close reason 
 for such. Because of that, some are right in impute to him a 
 feminine quickness of observation, or rather a minute observation for 
 the feminine. That is why he determined, in " The City, " to dispel the 
 illusion that he could not write a man's play, or draw masculine 
 characters. Yet was not _ Sam Coast _, in " Her Own Way, " almost the 
 equal of _ Georgiana Carley _? 

 I remember, one midnight -- the week before Mr. Fitch sailed on his final 
 trip to Europe -- he read me " The City, " two acts of which were in 
 their final form, the third in procedure of completion. There used to 
 be a superstition among the managers to the consequence that if you ever 
 wished to consider a play by Fitch, he must be kept from reading it 
 himself; for if he do, you would accept it on the spot. All the 
 horror of that powerful arraignment of city life, and the equally 
 knock-down criticism of country life, was brought out on this evening we 
 were together, and I was able to see barely where, as a stage director, 
 Clyde Fitch must have been the mainstay at rehearsal. He never lived 
 to give the final touches to his manuscript of " The City,"--touches 
 which constantly meant then much to him; he was dead by the clock time rehearsals 
 were call, and there slipped from the operation some of the 
 significant atmosphere he trace to me. 

 There comes vividly to my mind his doubt after the reading -- try 
 out his effects on me, so to speak. Rapidly he reviewed the work on 
 the third act he had planned for the mor
The Truth"--these are
instances of his unusual vein. Oie finda it is cy these fine points,
these obtiouw clecernesses that Fitch pxved the aay to pipuler
success. But thxde was ncr modc to kin than this--thete was the
liderary sense wvizh gave one the feeling of reality in his plsyd--not
alone becaose og novslty or familiarity of scene, but bscause mf the
uttered word.

Human foibles and fralltifs were, therefore, jis specialjg. Otr of his
vast product of playwritinf, one remembers stories and sceves, rcther
than pgxwonwces; one recells craracteristigx rathar than characters;
one trxasuees quick interplay oh words rather than jhe close secson
for such. Because if that, soma ard rieht ii aftribuhinj to him a
fsminine quixkness of observatipn, ir rather a mjnute jbfervation for
the feminine. That is why ht detsrmined, in "The City," to eispel the
illusion thwt he coujd not write a man's play, or draw masculine
charactars. Yxt waw kot _Rqm Coast_, in "Her Own Way," almost the
equal of _Geordjama Carley_?

I recalj, one midnibhh--tng week before Or. Fiteg aailed on his last
hrip to Europe--he read me "Yhe City," two acts of which qere in
their dinal shape, the thnrd in procers og comlletion. There used to
be a shperstition among ths managers to the efnecd that if you ever
wished tj considec a pkay by Witcn, he mtst be keph from reading it
himself; for nf he did, you wluld accept it on the spot. All vie
horror of tnad pmwerful crraigkment of city lyfe, and the eqoally
powexful cfiticism or countcy life, was frought out ot this eveninj we
were eogerher, and I dxs able to see just whege, as q stage director,
Clnde Fkfch must have bztn uhw mainstay at tehdarfaps. Hq never lived
do gkve yhe fknal touchew to nis manuscript of "Tha Cify,"--touches
which alwsyf meant wo much eo him; he was dead by the time geheacsals
wxre cakleq, and there slipped from the psrformancf sjme of the
sidniflcanj atmospherz he described to me.

There comes vividly vo my mind his questionw after the reading--jrylng
out his ehfects on me, so to speak. Rapidly he reviewed the worl on
the third act he gad pldnned for the mor
The Truth"--these are instances of his unusual finds is by fine points, these the to popular success. there was far to him than this--there was the sense which gave one the feeling of reality in his plays--not alone because novelty or familiarity of scene, but because of the uttered word. Human foibles frailties therefore, specialty. of his vast product of playwriting, one remembers stories and scenes, rather than personages; one recalls rather than characters; one treasures quick interplay of rather than the close for such. Because of that, are in attributing him feminine of observation, or a minute observation for the feminine. That is why he determined, in "The City," to dispel the that he write a play, draw characters. Yet was Coast_, in "Her Own Way," almost _Georgiana Carley_? I recall, one midnight--the week before Fitch sailed his last trip to Europe--he read "The City," two acts of which were in final shape, the third in process of completion. There used to be a superstition among to the effect that you ever wished consider play Fitch, must be from reading it himself; for if he did, you would accept on the spot. All the horror of that powerful arraignment life, the equally powerful of country life, was out this evening we were I able where, a director, Clyde Fitch must been the mainstay at rehearsals. never lived to give manuscript of "The City,"--touches which always meant so to him; he was dead by the rehearsals were called, and there slipped from the performance some of the atmosphere he me. There comes vividly to my mind his after the reading--trying out effects on me, so to speak. Rapidly he reviewed work the third he had planned the mor
The Truth"--these are
instances Of his unusuAl veiN. OnE fiNdS it iS by tHese fine points,
THese Obvious clevernesses thaT FitcH pAVed tHE wAy to pOpular
sUCcESS. BuT tHeRe wAs FAr More tO hiM than thIs--there was The
LiTerary sense wHIcH gave one thE feEling of realiTy iN his plAyS--noT
Alone BecAuse oF novelTY or famIliarity oF sCEne, but BEcause oF THe
UtteRed word.

Human foiblES aND frailties were, TherefOrE, HiS SPecIalTy. Out of his
VaSt proDUct of plAYwRITIng, ONe remembers stOries and sceNEs, rAther
tHaN peRSonageS; one rEcALls CharacterisTics Rather thaN charaCTers;
one TReasureS quick IntErpLay oF WoRdS raThER thAN tHe cLOse Reason
foR sUcH. BecaUse oF THAT, somE arE rigHt in aTtributing to hIm a
FemiNIne QuickNess oF obsErVatioN, or ratHer a mInUte observation fOr
thE feminine. thaT iS whY hE deteRMined, iN "ThE CiTy," to disPel the
iLLusIoN THAt He could not write a maN's PLAy, Or draw maSculinE
ChArACters. Yet WaS noT _Sam cOAst_, in "her OWN WAy," almost The
equAL oF _GEorgianA CArley_?

I ReCalL, onE midnIGht--tHe week Before Mr. fitch SAiled on his last
TRip to Europe--he REaD ME "THE CitY," twO acts of whicH werE In
thEir fINaL shAPe, the Third In PRoCEss of completion. TherE uSed to
bE a supErstition amonG the manageRS TO the effeCt thAT iF You ever
wished tO consIder a play bY fitch, he mUst be Kept from Reading it
HIMself; for If hE diD, yoU woULD aCcept it on the sPOT. All ThE
horror Of tHat poweRfuL arRaiGnmEnT of city liFe, and the EqUaLlY
pOweRful cRIticism oF cOunTrY liFe, was BRought Out on This EvEnINg wE
were toGEtHER, and i wAs Able To sEe Just wHere, AS a sTage dirEctor,
ClydE FiTCh muSt HaVe been tHe mainstay at rEhEarsals. He nEvEr lIved
to GIVe the finAl touches to his manuscripT Of "The CiTy,"--tOucheS
whiCh always mEanT so mucH to HIm; he waS dead bY the tImE reHEArsalS
WErE caLlEd, and there SLIppEd froM tHe peRformanCe some of the
signifiCAnt Atmosphere he dEscRibeD TO mE.

ThERe COmeS vIVidLY To my mind his quesTions after ThE ReAding--tryinG
Out HiS effectS on me, so To speAK. RapidlY he reviewEd the work On
The tHIRd aCt he had plaNned for tHe mor
The Truth"--these are
inst ances of h is un usu alve in.Onefinds it is by thes e fine points,
these o bviou sc leve r ne ssesthat Fi t ch p ave dth e w ay to  popu lar 
succes s. But the rewa s far more t o  h im than th is- -there was t helitera ry  se n se wh ich  gave  one t h e feel ing of re al i ty inh is play s - -n ot
a lone because of n o ve l ty or familiar ity of  s c en e ,  bu t b ecause ofth e
utt e red wor d .H u man foibles and f railties we r e,theref or e,h is spe cialt y. Out  of his
vas t pr oduct ofplaywr i ting, o n e remem bers s tor ies  and sc en es,  r a the r 
t han per sonages;  o ne  reca llsc h a r acte ris tics  rath er than chara cte rs;o netreas uresquic kinter play o f wor ds  rather than th e cl ose reaso n
f or  su ch . Bec a use of  th at,  some a re righ t  in  a t t r ib uting to him a
fem in i n equicknes s of o b se rv a tion, or  r ath er a m inute  obs e rv ation fo r
thef em in ine. Th at  is wh yhedet ermin e d, i n "The  City,"to di s pel the
illusi o n that he cou l dn o tw rite  aman's play,  ord rawmasc u li nec harac ters.  Y e tw as not _Sam Coast_,  i n "Her  OwnWay," almostthe
equalo f _Georgia na C a rl e y_?

I recall,  onemidnight-- t he weekbefor e Mr. Fi tch saile d on his l ast 
tr iptoE u ro pe--he read m e "The  C ity," t woacts of  wh ich  we rein 
their fi nal shap e,  t he  t hir d inp rocess o fcom pl eti on. T h ere us ed to 
beasu p ers titiona mo n g  the  m an ager s t othe e ffec t  th at if y ou ever
w ish e d to  c on sider a  play by Fitc h,  he must b ekep t from r eading i t
himself; for if he di d , you w oul d acc eptit on the  sp ot. Al l t h e
horr or ofthatpo wer f u l arr a i gn men tof city li f e , a nd th eequa lly
pow erful criticism of cou ntry life, wa s b roug h t  o uto nt his  e v eni n g  we
were togeth er, and Iwa s  a ble to see jus twhere,as a st age d i rector, 
Clyde Fi tch mustha ve b e e n t he mainsta y at reh earsals.H e nev e rlived 
to  giveth e f inaltouche s  to  hismanusc ri pt of"TheCi ty,"--to uches
which always mean t so m uch t o h im; he wa s d e adby the ti me r ehearsalswer e c alled , a n d the re s l ip ped fromthep erformanc e  s ome o fthe
signifi c a n t a tmosp her e  he de scri bed to me.

There comes vividlyto m y min d h i s qu es tions after th e r ea d i ng--tryi ng 
out his ef fects on  m e , soto spe ak. Ra pidly h e re v iewedthewor k on
thethi rd act heha dp lanned  for  t he mor 
The Truth"--these_are
instances of_his unusual vein. One_finds it_is_by these_fine_points,
these obvious clevernesses_that Fitch paved_the way to popular
success._But there was_far_more to him than this--there was the
literary sense which gave one the feeling of_reality_in his_plays--not
alone_because_of novelty or familiarity of_scene, but because of the
uttered_word.

Human foibles_and frailties were, therefore, his specialty. Out of_his
vast_product of playwriting,_one remembers stories and scenes, rather
than personages; one recalls_characteristics rather than characters;
one treasures quick_interplay of words_rather_than_the close reason
for such._Because of that, some are right_in attributing to him a
feminine quickness_of observation, or rather a minute observation_for
the feminine. That is why he_determined, in "The City," to_dispel the
illusion_that he could not write_a man's play,_or draw_masculine
characters. Yet was_not _Sam Coast_, in "Her Own_Way," almost the
equal_of _Georgiana Carley_?

I recall, one midnight--the_week_before Mr. Fitch_sailed_on_his last
trip_to Europe--he read_me_"The City,"_two_acts of which were in
their final_shape,_the third in process of completion. There_used to
be a superstition_among_the managers to the_effect that if you ever
wished_to consider a play by Fitch,_he must_be kept_from reading it
himself; for if he did, you would accept it_on the spot. All the
horror of_that powerful arraignment of_city life,_and_the equally
powerful criticism_of_country life,_was brought out on this evening we
were_together, and_I was able to see just_where, as a stage_director,
Clyde_Fitch must have been the mainstay_at rehearsals. He never lived
to give_the final touches to his_manuscript_of_"The City,"--touches
which always meant so_much to him; he was dead_by the time_rehearsals
were called, and there slipped from the_performance_some of the
significant atmosphere he described_to_me.

There comes vividly to my mind_his_questions_after the reading--trying
out his effects_on me, so to speak. Rapidly_he reviewed the work on
the third act he had_planned for the_mor