I looked out of the window, puzzled. A vessel of considerable size was passing up, toward the Sound. Noticing it, she added: “I love a ship; any ship; I would go anywhere a ship was going. I never see one that I don’t wish to be on it.” “I don’t think I quite understand,” I said. “About my loving a ship?” “No, I understand that—entirely. It is what you say of the pictures ... I can’t quite reconcile it with your article in Sayler’s book.” “But that was theoretical. What I said just now related to existing facts. The silent pictures had gone as far as they could go in the hands they were in ... too far. In the right hands, they might have saved the world. They spoke a universal language—the only one ever invented. They could have brought all the nations together ... done away with the narrow patriotism that childishly celebrates its own country above all others, that has for its motto ‘My country, right or wrong,’ a sentiment unworthy of grown-up, enlightened people. Human beings are pretty much alike, the world over. Difference in language is the chief barrier between them. With the interchange of films, which all but the blind could read, I believe these barriers, in time would have disappeared. Now ...” “Now ...?” “The barriers are busily being built up again. George Arliss’s ‘Disraeli,’ a beautiful talking picture, would be practically wasted in any country but England and America. An operetta has a better chance. There is a German one on 55th Street that you should see—‘Two Hearts in Waltz Time’—clean and wholesome, with lovely music. You come away from it with a kindlier feeling for Germany. Even better were the lovely silent pictures, with such titles as were needed, in the language of each country. I know something of that, from the letters that came to me, from everywhere. Fine, friendly letters. The writers of those letters could not be our enemies.” V “UNCLE VANYA” TAKES THE ROAD “Uncle Vanya” reopened September 22, at the Booth Theatre, with the original company, except for the part of Sonia, which was played by Zita Johann. That Miss Johann is a successful actress has been sufficiently demonstrated. Yet one could hardly fail to resent any change in the perfect “Vanya” cast. It did something to the illusion. The scenes between Helena and Sonia were still lovely, only Sonia wasn’t quite Sonia any more, but just someone playing her part, pretending. Lillian was all that she had been—my knowing her had not made her any less the illusion, Chekhov’s Helena. It was a warm night, but the audience was good—and appreciative. When I saw her next day, she reproached me for not letting her know I was there. A week later, I went again, and this time sent in a card, specifying my seat. During the next intermission, a boy brought a little note.