This is an age of get-rich-quickly, and there is no other object. Actors talk of art, and of unconventionality; they inveigh against commercialism and pose most picturesquely. But they are in such a hurry to spear the florid, bloated body of easy success that they cannot wait.

Mr. Frank Keenan went direct from M. Antoine's Parisian plan to vaudeville! The little play upon which he relied to turn the tide of dollars in his direction was called "A Passion in a Suburb," and was described as "a psychological study of madness," by Algernon Boyesen.

It was horror for the sake of horror, which is always distressing, and it was a failure. It was food neither for the elect nor for the mob. Both classes demand a plausible excuse for stage happenings.