Page:The New Yorker 0002, 1925-02-28.pdf/7

THE NEW YORKER Kellar played the role again last night to a Beginning at the Bottom crowded house, but with lines slightly modified. She curred seven times in her part. On her threat to wie. “WELL, young man," said the Great Editor, “I suppose you want to become a writer." draw, the management compromised, it is said. The A timid bow signified assent. word was struck out of four lines and allowed to "Have you lived?" stand in three.") "I'm twenty-seven."

And so, the day after the MacKellar statement, the "Of course, of course. What I mean is, have you World brightened up its first page with a story about sinned-sinned greatly? Have you tasted any of the the dirty play and a picture of its producer, who was dregs of life?" allowed to say that he had made the production "for "Not since my last class reunion. The cocktails a purpose." (The picture of Mr. Brady by the way, were terrible.” was one of him in what might have been his confirma- The Great Editor frowned. It was evident my tion suit, and the caption for it read "For Clean obtuseness made him impatient. Plays.") "I'm afraid you don't understand," he said, a The Brady statement had been received by other bit sharply. “I shall explain. There is no field at newspaper offices at the office of the Times, for ex- present for imaginative works. The reading public ample, it was reduced to five or six lines, with the wants actuality. You must write something that has added comment that Broadway did not take his agita- happened to you. Now," he broke off, "let us consider tion seriously and believed that his play would con- your own life. Have you ever had an illicit ro- tinue to run as long as newspapers gave space to his mance; ever stabbed your mother-in-law with a bread denunciation of its dirty nature. knife-great title for a story like that, 'The Bread The World, however, swallowed the Brady bait. Knife and the Butter-In'-ever poisoned your wife!" And from its vigorous news treatment of the story, "I'm not married," I interposed. plus its editorial denunciations, has come the agitation "Ever cloped with a married woman?" he went that has forced the District Attorney to move to action. "Ever rolled drunk in the gutters; ever been The World, apparently just the least bit conscious, divorced because of a duchess even a countess will but too late, of what it has done, is beginning to de- do, if it's well written; ever blackmailed anyone- mand a censorship by way of the Citizens' Jury, with blackmail hasn't been done lately; ever fought a duel which the actors are to co-operate. It holds the weird over a notorious adventuress; ever cheated at cards?” point of view that a jury made up of Mrs. Jays and He beamed expansively. other great public-spirited people is superior to the “Those are a few examples of what I mean," the average jury drawn by the court and armed with legal Great Editor concluded. "Go out and live, my boy, powers. and when you have a real story to tell come back." The business of a manager appealing to the news- I am determined to accept his advice. I shall be- papers for stories about the dirtiness of his productions gin at the bottom and work up. is not new. Earl Carroll, last Fall, did it and met Accordingly, I wish to ask my friends not to be- with moderate success. However, he has a just griev- come alarmed if they see me rolling around any of ance when he thinks of the small amount of space he the town's better gutters. I shall be merely gathering received in comparison with the front page headlines inspiration. They will owe it to literature to leave and picture the World rushed to give Brady.-H.J.M. me where I lie. - James Kevin McGuinness on, Cassandra Drops Into Verse We'd break the city's un feeling clutch And back to good Mother Earth we'd go With birds and blossoms and such-and-such, And love and kisses and so-and-so. We'd build a bungalow, white and green, With rows of hollyhocks, all sedate. And you'd come out on the five-eighteen And meet me down at the garden gate, We'd leave the city completely flat And dwell with chickens and cows and bees, 'Mid brooks and bowers and this and that, And joys and blisses and those and these, We'd greet together the golden days, And hail the sun in the morning sky. We'd find an Eden—to coin a phrase- The sole inhabitants, you and I. With sweet simplicity all our aim, We'd fare together to start anew In peace and quiet and what's-its-name, And soul communion, or what have you? But oh, my love, if we made the light, I see the end of our pastoral plan. . Why, you'd be staying in town each night, And I'd elope with the furnace man. -Dorothy Parker Digitized by Google