ollege, and practically reproduces there the Fitchean
flavour.

I have seen Clyde Fitch on many diverse occasions. Through incisive
comment on people, contemporary manners, and plays, which was let drop
in conversation, I was able to estimate the natural tendency of
Fitch's mind. His interest was never concerned solely with dominant
characters; he was quick rather to sense the idiosyncrasies of the
average person. His observation was caught by the seemingly
unimportant, but no less identifying peculiarities of the middle
class. Besides which, his irony was never more happy than when aimed
against that social set which he knew, and good-humouredly satirized.

To know Clyde Fitch intimately--no matter for how short a while--was
to be put in possession of his real self. From early years, he showed
the same tendencies which later developed more fully, but were not
different. Success gave him the money to gratify his tastes for
_objets d'art_, which he used to calculate closely to satisfy in the
days when "Beau Brummell" and "Frederic Lemaitre" gave hint of his
dramatic talent. He was a man of deep sentiment, shown to his friends
by the countless graceful acts as host, and shown to his players. As
soon as a Fitch play began to be a commodity, coveted by the
theatrical manager, he nearly always had personal control of its
production, and could dictate who should be in his casts. No dramatist
has left behind him more profoundly pleasing memories of artistic
association than Clyde Fitch. The names of his plays form a roster of
stage associations--the identification of "Beau Brummell" with Richard
Mansfield; of "Nathan Hale" with N. C. Goodwin; of "Barbara Frietchie"
with Julia Marlowe; of "The Climbers" with Amelia Bingham; of "The
Stubbornness of Geraldine" with Mary Mannering; of "The Truth" and
"The Girl With Green Eyes" with Clara Bloodgood--to mention a few
instances. Those who recall happy hours spent with Fitch at his
country homes--either at "Quiet Corner," Greenwich, Connecticut, or at
"The Other House," Katonah, New York, have vivid memory of his
pervasive cordiality. His players, likewise, those whose identifying
talent caught his fancy, had the same care and attention paid them in
his playwriting. Sometimes, it may be, this graciousness of his made
him cut his cloth to suit the figure. "Beau Brummell" was the very
mold and fashion of Mansfield: but that was _Brummell's_ fault and
Mansfield's genius, to which was a