variety during the winter by meeting at each other's houses once a month for the purpose of reading a play and enjoying an informal meal afterward. A modest little society of friends was thus formed, plays were chosen, and parts allotted each month; we sat round a room, book in hand, and endeavored to throw ourselves into the spirit of the play as we read our respective parts. As the season went on, it was evident that we had a certain amount of talent among us, and we became inspired to further efforts. We had intended to dissolve the society at the close of the winter; but as spring drew near, our fancy turned to thoughts of a real performance of some of the scenes we had been reading. At first the difficulties appeared to be

enormous.

We had no buildings except

our village schools, and they were far too small; no funds to lay out in costumes and scenery and we wanted many more actors and actresses than our little coterie boasted of.

A PLAY IN A RECTOR'S GARDEN

The first obstacle, however, was surmounted. It was the age of "pageants" just then, and we determined to perform in the open air. Mr. Gill had a garden admirably adapted for the purpose, a large lawn for the audience, and a sort of natural stage in the shape of a raised, grassy embankment, at the end of it. The next point was the selection of a couple of scenes which would suit the surroundings. We were ambitious enough to wish to portray both tragedy and comedy, so we chose the forum scene from "Julius Cæsar" and the scene from the "Midsummer Night's Dream" in which Bottom and his company perform their immortal interlude before the Duke and his court. With some trepidation we pressed into our service a few village men, a carpenter, a gardener, etc., to help form a "crowd" for the Cæsar scene and to take parts in the interlude. Some of us volunteered to have our costumes made at home and we hired others. We played the two scenes twice each on the appointed day, and charged admission to each performance.

It was a very modest attempt, but our audiences gave us great encouragement

and, both at rehearsals and performances, we learned many things which spurred us on to a far greater effort and far greater results the following summer. Perhaps one of the chief things we learned was the thoroughness of Shakespeare's understanding of the Anglo-Saxon character, what it is capable of, and what it appreciates. The bulk of our audiences were people simple villagers many of them

who had never read Shakespeare nor seen him played; yet the great Forum scene appealed strongly to their imaginations, and the roars of laughter which greeted the "interlude" showed how keenly the great Playwright had gauged the wit of his countrymen. But what surprised us still more was the remarkable sense of the inner meaning of the scenes shown by the village men who acted in them. Our "crowd" was small, but its members very soon learned to display real feeling at the orations, and to break in with their exclamations as citizens with magnificent effect. As actors in the "interlude" they proved themselves to be the genuine rustic performers whom Shakespeare must have had in his mind when he wrote the “Midsummer Night.'

ENLARGING THE SCALE

Our preparations, therefore, for our performance the following summer were made on a far larger scale and with attempts at results which we had not thought possible before. A fête in aid of a local nursing society was to be held in the beautiful grounds of Lady Wantage at Lockinge, Berkshire, and the Committee of this fête voted us a sum for our expenses, on the condition that all our proceeds should go to their charitable object. The choice of the "theatre" was left to us, and we selected a spot which provided a natural, sloping amphitheatre for the seating of the audience, in front of which was a broad grassy "stage," with trees and water in the background and shady avenues as "approaches." This gave us plenty of space to arrange spectacular processions. as large as we pleased. The music, we decided, should be furnished by a band of instrumentalists hidden by the trees on the further side of the water-a position

exactly opposite to that usually occupied by a stage orchestra, and it turned out to be a singularly happy location.

The next consideration was the choice of what we should produce. For pageantry it seemed to us that no better scene was available than that which we had already played, viz., the forum scene from "Julius Cæsar"; but this time we decided to produce it on a far larger scale. For the other scenes, we wished to take advantage of our truly sylvan stage and fairyland surroundings, which were adapted admirably to certain portions of the "Midsummer Night's Dream." This took a great deal of careful thought, but after long deliberation, much of which took place on the actual spot between Mr. Gill and myself, we evolved a continuous if curtailed drama.

HOME TALENT COSTUMING

The question of costumes was a huge one, especially as we determined to hire as few things as possible from the theatrical world. In fact, all we actually hired for our performance were the ass's head for Bottom, a centurion's costume, a standardbearer's head-piece, and a few wigs. We were fortunate enough to obtain the obtain the voluntary services of an authority on costumes of different periods. He spent much time in designing the costumes with a careful color scheme for each play, and for weeks the ladies of our circle were pressed into willing service, purchasing material and making the dresses. We 'extemporized" all we could. We became We became quite adepts at the art of making sandals or quaint footwear out of old boots and shoes, slashed and painted. We even had recourse to the village blacksmith who, from our costumer's designs, made admirable armor and helmets for Roman soldiers out of ordinary sheet tin; and formidable looking spears were manufactured from the same material fixed to painted broom handles. The most difficult costumes to design were those of the four principal fairies Cobweb, Mustard Seed, Moth, and Pease Blossom; but they were worth the trouble, once they were successfully finished, as were the dresses of the other fairies twelve little boys for elves and twelve little girls for fairies. Perhaps the

a

most ludicrous of all the costume "properties" was the immortal Cæsar himself, who appeared only as a corpse on his bier. He was composed of three parts plaster face and breast made by one of the company, appearing horribly death-like and bloody when Antony raised the pall, a sack full of straw for his body, and a pair of stuffed Wellington boots to give the proper outline to his lower limbs under the sad purple covering.

VILLAGERS IN PEASANT PARTS

We drew our company from the surrounding villages - all sorts and conditions of men. For the rustic players in the "Dream," with the exception of myself who played Bottom, all were genuine village men; and among our soldiers and "crowd" we had a number of agricultural laborers. Rehearsals were a grave difficulty. For the most part we could only meet after work was over for the day, and many of us had to cycle or drive eight or nine miles to rehearse. But we divided things—a special evening for training the "crowd," another for the fairies' dance, another for the rustic players, and so forth, with a full rehearsal of the whole company whenever we could get them together, and a dress rehearsal or two with the "band" in attendance just before the great day. We could never have done it at all had it not been for the enthusiasm of all the members of our company and the keenness with which they threw themselves into their parts.

At length the day of the performance arrived and our preparations were complete. The arrangements for dressing rooms had presented difficulties. A house in the grounds however was finally set apart for the principal performers and two tents erected out of sight behind the trees for the supers. We gave two performances afternoon and early evening, and our scenes were witnessed by nearly two thousand spectators.

ADAPTING AND STAGING "JULIUS CÆSAR"

We spent a great deal of time and thought on the adaptation and staging of our scenes. In "Julius Cæsar," the only stage "property" used was a roughly made

rostrum, covered with turf and moss to be in harmony with the surroundings. The scene opened with a fanfare of trumpets by the concealed band, and, from the distance, through an avenue of trees and shrubs, a company of Roman soldiers, with centurion and standard bearer, was seen advancing in slow march, their spears glittering in the sunshine. In due order the men, one after another, fell out of the ranks, stationing themselves in a semicircle round the back of the stage, where they remained fixed and immovable — an impressive, martial array.

The

The "mob" distinguished itself. Hidden behind the trees it set up a confused tumult which grew louder and louder, until, by another entrance, Brutus (played by myself) and Cassius came on. The crowd of citizens raged in after them shouting, "We will be satisfied! Let us be satisfied!" Halfway across the huge "stage" they pressed, till Brutus, turning, motioned them back. Their exclamations throughout his speech were so vociferous and hearty as almost to drown his utter

ances.

A magnificent bit of pageantry was provided at the point, "Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony." To the strains of a funeral march, a procession of mourners came winding its way through the trees, the "body" of Cæsar covered with a purple pall, borne on its bier, and followed by the imposing figure of Mark Antony, played by the Rev. C. H. Gill. The procession advanced in front of the crowd and halted, the bier being set down in the middle of the stage. There was breathless silence while Brutus made his exit. The winning over of the crowd by Mark Antony was a fine piece of work, not easily forgotten; and the acting of the villagers was no less effective than before, as their shouts of impatience changed to cries of pity and grief. Siezing Cæsar's bier, they swarmed away with it, threatening, until the sounds of vengeance melted away in the distance. We cut out the last lines of the scene, and ended with the words, spoken by Antony, who remained alone upon the stage:

Now let it work; mischief, thou art afoot.
Take thou what course thou wilt.

The "Midsummer Night's Dream" required even more care for satisfactory adapting. We finally decided to produce Act III, Scene I, and Act IV, Scene I, as one scene without any interval. But, to do this in harmony, it was necessary to introduce it with a short prelude which consisted of an adaptation from Act II, Scene IV. The arrangement proved to be a very practicable one for amateurs. The prelude commenced with dumb show. To the strains of soft music entered the two couples, Lysander and Hermia, Demetrius and Helen. Puck, invisible to mortals, threw his charm over them and they fell asleep in the background of the leafy dell. Then came a burst of merry dance music, and on rushed the little elves and fairies with their Queen Titania. The dance of these sprightly immortals, with the queen in the centre, was a charming piece of child acting. Then Titania reclined on a grassy knoll and the fairies, ceasing their dance, sang her to sleep with the fairy song: "You spotted snakes, with double tongue," etc., making their exit to soft music. Oberon then entered, made his short speech, and squeezed the magic flower on the sleeping queen's eyelids. The way was thus prepared for the first scene of Act III. The rustic players came straggling on through the avenue, followed by Bottom with the roll of the

"play" in his hand.

"play" in his hand. The bit of acting which now took place was very funny and clownish. The broad yet soft Berkshire accent of the players was precisely what was wanted. The audience roared its approval.

The merging of the two scenes into one was easily effected. After Bottom's last speech in the first scene, Titania began with the first words of Scene I, Act IV "Come, sit thee down upon this flowery. bed" - and the scene proceeded, without any cutting, to the end. A bright touch of pageantry was arranged when "Theseus, Hippolyta, Eyeus, and train" entered. This took the form of a procession through the same winding path that the body of Cæsar had traversed, to the sound of a slow march from the "foresters' horns." The grouping in this, and all other parts of our performance, was most carefully

thought out and rehearsed with a view to color and other effects. In fact, we found the "grouping" on our large stage a very important part of our work, and many an hour we spent upon it beforehand, both over diagrams and in actual rehearsals. We found, from the first, that the chief difficulty to overcome in an outdoor performance of this nature was the tendency to crowd together too much. Proper and effectual spacing had to be rehearsed much oftener than actual words.

The scene from the " Midsummer Night's Dream" ended with the waking soliloquy of Bottom, the sole occupant of the stage after the procession had been reformed and had gone its way into the distance.

I might mention that the fête was a

financial success, more than $500 having been made as profit. As far as I recollect our expenses for costume material, etc., etc., amounted to about $100, which, considering the large scale on which we produced our scenes, was extremely cheap.

I can only say in conclusion that the task of producing even two or three scenes from the great Master, by amateurs, is a great one, entailing much time, work, and patience, but that it certainly repays the efforts spent upon it. And, provided one has a small number of fairly good speakers to take the leading parts, the choice of others need not be too particular. The material, in our case, it is true, had to be drastically licked into shape, but our laborers were well rewarded.

AM raising my voice in the wilderness of musical America which to-morrow is to produce the world's supply of Pattis and Melbas, De Reszkes and Carusos, Wagners, Verdis, Puccinis, and Mascagnis, and Campaninis. Great natural musical talent exists in this country, and it is my present mission in life to give opportunity to that talent to develop. Incidental to that mission I plan to cover the United States and possibly Canada with a net-work of opera houses. By this means I shall be able to carry the very best of music to many who will appreciate it, but who until now have had no opportunity to enjoy it.

Where Andrew Carnegie has given library buildings and books I shall build opera houses and give music. Mine

is the greater work. I shall give pleasure and build character and make of the world of my children's children a better place in which to live.

It would be impossible for any individual to do alone the great work that I have undertaken. But I have never known another response so quick and so generous as that given to my suggestion. I had expected that my demands, though of a nature comparatively childish, would arouse opposition. Instead of that they are being complied with in a manner that is pleasing. Merely as an illustration I may mention that the day after the newspapers gave the merest outline of my plans, Dallas, Tex., offered an annual guarantee of $40,000 for a single week of opera.

Perhaps one reason why the whole country has been so quick to accept my suggestion may be found in the fact that I have no secrets to conceal. I have been ready to answer any and all questions. I am willing to have commercial X-rays applied, being certain that the negative will show no defect in my plans and nothing but honesty of purpose in

my heart. While Mr. Carnegie and Mr. Rockefeller are giving of their idle wealth, I am giving to the public something that is a part of myself. I am giving my mind and my very life. They give directly in the form of money; I give indirectly in the form of my knowledge, of my experience, and of my talents - genius, if you will, for I have it. From my efforts come happiness and prosperity for others. Grand opera is a hereditary instinct or desire, imparted from father to children. That is why the people of continental Europe are music loving. Germany, France, Austria, Italy, and Russia for a century have had the best of opera even in their less important cities. The common people over there have become acquainted with the beauties of grand opera. We in this country have not had those advantages, but Americans have a natural love of music, and a keen appreciation of everything that is great. We are a great-hearted people.

THE TROUBLE WITH LONDON

It has been suggested that, in this great opera circuit, we include London, making use of the opera house which I built last year just off the Strand. No, sir! I am done with London. Had I persisted in my attempt to build up in England a clientèle with a desire for and an appreciation of this sublime form of entertainment, it would have meant my expatriation. I prefer to use such abilities as have been conferred upon me for the benefit of my own countrymen. The English are a trifle slow as well as somewhat unappreciative. By nature they are not musical. They have had only Covent Garden, and they are content with that.

My ambition to give to every city of importance in the United States a permanent structure, in which the best quality of grand opera may be heard, comes to me after twenty-seven years of activity and experience with opera and music. I know that we have in this country thousands of voices of wonderful dower, purity, and sweetness. The posThe possessors of these voices should have opportunity to develop them. Heretofore there

has been no such opportunity, at least none on this side of the Atlantic. The result has been an evil, the extent of which few realize.

Our young men and young women, fired by ambition, have gone to Europe for education-seeking the musical training denied to them at home. Disasters have followed. Conditions abroad are nauseous. Temptations are spread before the young at every turn. Tens of thousands have gone to Paris, Berlin, Florence, or Milan; and where two or three have come through the fire alive, whole armies have perished. It will hardly be denied that I know whereof I speak.

From the Atlantic to the Pacific and from the Gulf of Mexico to the Far North, the men and women who are associating themselves with me will place, wherever there be hope of reasonable support, an opera house which will be a home of art and education. Of course, these houses will be used for other purposes than opera -grand purposes too-but my mind dwells upon the musical education of the public that will result from their being built.

Music is contagious. Wherever grand opera is sung, those who hear it are fired by an ambition to try their own voices. They are happy and they want the world to know it. Local societies will be formed for the purpose of giving amateur productions of the great operas. The cynic sneers at the amateur musician as a nuisance, but the greatest nuisance in the world and the greatest obstacle in the road of progress is that same cynic. first these amateur performances, very naturally, will have a provincial flavor, but talent will have an opportunity to display itself, and great good must follow. Voices will be developed and artists will come into their own.

At

So these opera houses will not be merely places where may be produced grand opera. opera. They will be places of musical education; they will stand for something definitely good that the public will be quick to recognize.

Then, too, there will be a broader benefit. The communities in which the opera houses will be built will have a chance to hear and see the greatest pro