When Deirdre, knowing the sure fate that will overtake herself and Naisi should they return to Ireland, yet gives the word to go because of taunting words spoken by Naisi, we have the essence of that mingled motive which makes drama. Much that we call dramatic in plays today is merely an external trick, like pressing the wrong button, getting into the wrong room, or enclosing letters in the wrong envelopes. Character has nothing to do with it. The new playwright will not go on crutches.
It may be that this prophecy is too hopeful. But prophecies very often create their own fulfilment. And it is in this faith that we call attention to the announcement in this number of a special request for a poetic play which the Players Producing Company of Chicago makes through Poetry.
AT THE FAIR
The editor has made the grand tour. The Yellowstone, San Francisco, San Diego, the Grand Cañon, with the plains and deserts and mountains, the rivers and lakes and seas, that lie along or between—these were her spectacular vacation from desks and doors, from poets and prosers. And now she is tempted to grow garrulous, after the manner of adventurers since the cave-dweller carved on the rock the story of his travels.
Since nature preserves her monuments, while spendthrift man destroys his in this year of grace, since the two Pacific fairs must soon furl their banners and put out their lights,
[35]
