ur Little
Wife_ and it might be well if some one should attempt a revival of one
of his three serious plays, _This Woman and This Man_, in which
Carlotta Nillson appeared for a brief space.

This author, mainly through the beneficent offices of a gift of
supernal charm, contrives to do in English very much what Feydeau does
in French. It is his contention that you can smite the Puritans, even
in the American theatre, squarely on the cheek, provided you are
sagacious in your choice of weapon. In _Fair and Warmer_ he provokes
the most boisterous and at the same time the most innocent laughter
with a scene which might have been made insupportably vulgar. A
perfectly respectable young married woman gets very drunk with the
equally respectable husband of one of her friends. The scene is the
mainstay, the _raison d'etre_, of the play, and it furnishes the
material for the better part of one act; yet young and old, rich and
poor, philistine and superman alike, delight in it. To make such a
situation irresistible and universal in its appeal is, it seems to me,
undoubtedly the work of genius. What might, indeed should, have been
disgusting, was not only in intention but in performance very funny.
Let those who do not appreciate the virtuosity of this undertaking
attempt to write as successful a scene in a similar vein. Even if they
are able to do so, and I do not for a moment believe that there is
another dramatic author in America who can, they will be the first to
grant the difficulty of the achievement. With an apparently
inexhaustible fund of fantasy and wit Mr. Hopwood passes his wand over
certain phases of so-called smart life, almost always with the
happiest results. With a complete realization of the independence of
his medium he often ignores the realistic conventions and the
traditional technique of the stage, but his touch is so light and
joyous, his wit so free from pose, that he rarely fails to establish
his effect. His pen has seldom faltered. Occasionally, however, the
heavy hand of an uncomprehending stage director or of an aggressive
actor has played havoc with the delicate texture of his fabric. There
is no need here for the use of hammer or trowel; if an actress must
seek aid in implements, let her rather rely on a soft brush, a lacy
handkerchief, or a sparkling spangled fan.

Philip Moeller has achieved distinction in another field, that of
elegant burlesque, of sublimated caricature. His stage men and wome