in
mind for a particular star. His special desire, however, was for strong
and emotional love as the dominant force in the drama. He felt that all
humanity was interested in love, and he believed it established a
congenial point of contact between the stage and the audience.

Although he did not especially aspire to Shakespearian production, he
used the great bard's works as models for appraising other plays.
"Shakespeare invented farce comedy," he once said, "and whenever I
consider the purchase of such a thing I compare its scenes with the most
famous of all farces, 'The Taming of the Shrew.' It goes without saying
that when it comes to the stage of the production, my aim is to imbue
the performance with a spirit akin to that contained in Shakespeare's
humorous masterpiece."

Frohman often "went wrong" on plays. He merely accepted these mistakes
as part of the big human hazard and went on to something new. His
amazing series of errors of judgment with plays by Augustus Thomas is
one of the traditions of the American theater. The reader already knows
how he refused "Arizona" and "The Earl of Pawtucket," and how they made
fortunes for other managers.

One of the most extraordinary of these Thomas mistakes was with "The
Witching Hour." It was about the only time that he permitted his own
decision to be swayed by outside influence, and it cost him dearly.

The author read the play to Frohman on a torrid night in midsummer.
Frohman, as usual, sat cross-legged on a divan and sipped orangeade
incessantly.

Thomas, who has all the art and eloquence of a finished actor, read his
work with magnetic effect. When he finished Frohman sat absolutely still
for nearly five minutes. It seemed hours to the playwright, who awaited
the decision with tense interest. Finally Frohman said in a whisper:

"That is almost too beautiful to bear."

A pause followed. Then he said, eagerly:

"When shall we do it; whom do you want for star?"

"I'd like to have Gillette," replied Thomas.

"You can't have him," responded Frohman. "He's engaged for something
else."

With this the session ended. Frohman seemed strangely under the spell of
the play. It made him silent and meditative.

The next day he gave the manuscript to some of his close associates to
read. They thought it was too psychological for a concrete dramatic
success. To their great surprise he agreed with them.

"The Witching Hour" was produced by another manager and it ran