riticisms--ridicule."

Nor was Frohman often deceived about a first-night verdict. He always
said, "Wait for the box-office statement on the second night."

One of his characteristic epigrammatic statements about the failure of
plays was this:

"In America the question with a failure is, 'How soon can we get it off
the stage?' In London they say, 'How long will the play run even though
it is a failure?'"

Indeed, Frohman's whole attitude about openings was characteristic of
his deep and generous philosophy about life. He summed up his whole
creed as follows:

"A producer of plays, assuming that he is a man of experience, never
feels comfortable after a great reception has been given his play on a
first night. He knows that the reception in the theater does not always
correspond to the feelings of future audiences. Every thinking manager
knows that his play, in order to succeed, must send its audience away
possessed of some distinct feeling. A successful play is a play that
_reflects_, whatever the feeling it reflects.

"The great successes of the stage are plays that are played outside of
the theater: over the breakfast-table; in a man's office; to his
business associates; in a club, as one member tells the thrilling story
of the previous night's experience to another. Great successes upon the
stage are plays of such a sort that one audience can play them over to
another prospective audience, and so make an endless chain of attendance
at the theater.

"I have never in all my experience felt a success on the opening night.
I have only felt my failures.

"I invariably leave the theater after a first-night performance knowing
full well that neither my friends nor I know anything at all as to the
ultimate fortune of the play we have seen."

It is a matter of record that Frohman always viewed his first nights
with great nervousness. Although he attached but little importance, save
on very rare occasions, to tumultuous applause on first nights, he was
sometimes deceived by the reception that was given his productions.

He never tired of telling of one experience. He had left the theater on
the first night, as he expressed it, "with the other mourners." He
returned to his office immediately to cast a new play for the company.
Yet he lived to see this play run successfully for a whole season. This
led him to say:

"There's nothing more deluding to the player and the manager than
enthusiastic applause. The fine, in