“Good!” Brainard exclaimed genially, shaking MacNaughton’s hand. “This is my secretary, Edward Farson—Ferris MacNaughton. Let us get to work at once and see how we can spend the better part of half a million a year on the theater!”
At the casual mention of this large sum of money, the old actor did a bit of unpremeditated acting, displaying astonishment so genuine that it set the secretary laughing. He recovered himself, and remarked in his Shakespearian tones:
The three sat down about the table, and lighted fresh cigars. Brainard presently drew a small, much worn note book from an inner pocket, and began turning its leaves, reading thoughtfully from time to time:
“Item first—create an organization that will build and support theaters in the chief cities of the United States—to be called in every instance ‘The People’s Theater.’
“Good!” the actor assented loudly. “I have always maintained that the drama came originally from the ranks of the common people, and should be the chief means of their education.”
The magazine man made a wry face. The “People” according to Broadway were visitors from out of town who would pay two fifty apiece for the “show”—any show. Brainard read on:
“Item second—no boxes and no reserved seats in the People’s Theaters. Highest price of seats, one dollar, and free matinees on Saturdays.”
“You will need a million!” Farson murmured.
“I used to find it so hard to get a good seat when I wanted to go to the theater,” Brainard explained. “Even when I had scooped together the price, for some extraordinary occasion, I couldn’t get nearer than the twelfth row. Every theater was always sold up to that row, no matter how early in the day I got to the box office. I have an invention in mind that will register every seat sold or given out, and show it on a diagram, to put an end to the usual practice. But let us get to more important matters!”
“Exchange of the different companies in the organization—a college of dramatic art—cafés in the theaters—libraries of dramatic literature—open-air theaters in the suburbs and city parks, etc.”
“But,” the actor inquired sententiously, “what do you propose to give the people in your theaters?”
“Plays, of course!” Brainard replied. “All sorts of plays that are worth while, old and new!”