I take it I have said enough to indicate that such “conventional” solutions as may occur to some readers were inadmissible in Isadora’s case, just as inadmissible in fact as they would be in a novel by Dostoievsky. In any event, she paid to the end for any mistakes she may have made, and it is not our duty to sit in judgment on her, whether one theoretically disapproves of her use of what sometimes has been called the “escape-road.” It is one’s duty to understand, and by understanding to forgive. I have heard it remarked that there was a streak of cruelty in Isadora. Gentle natures of acute sensibility and strong intelligence, long exasperated by indifference and opposition to what they hold of sovereign importance in art and life, are apt to turn cruel and even vindictive at times. I never witnessed her alleged cruelty or vindictiveness to any one and I will not go on hearsay. One of the great satisfactions of a long career in the world of dance is that I was able to be of some service to this neglected genius. I can think of no finer summation of her than the words of that strange, aloof genius of the British theatre, Gordon Craig, when he wrote: “ ... She springs from the Great Race---- From the line of Sovereigns, who Maintain the world and make it move, From the Courageous Giants, The Guardians of Beauty---- The Solver of all Riddles.” _B. COLORED LIGHTS AND FLUTTERING SCARVES_ It is a far cry from Isadora to another American dancer, whose “children” I toured across America and back, in 1926. Loie Fuller, “the lady with the scarf,” was at that period championed by her friend, the late Queen Marie of Roumania, when that royal lady embarked upon a lecture tour of the United States that same year. Loie Fuller was loosely attached to the royal entourage. “La Loie” had established a school in Paris, and wanted to exhibit the prowess of her pupils. I was inveigled into bringing them quite as much by Loie Fuller’s dynamic, active manager, Mrs. Bloch, as I was by the aging dancer herself. Loie Fuller was something of a phenomenon. Born in Chicago, in 1862, her first fame was gained as a child temperance lecturer in the mid-west. According to her biographers, she took some dancing lessons, but found the lessons too difficult and abandoned them after a short time. Switching to the study of voice, she gave up her youthful Carrie Nation attacks on alcohol and obtained a singing part in a stage production. As the story goes, while she was appearing in this stage role, a friend in India made her a gift of a long scarf of very light weight silk. Playing with her present, watching it float through the air with the greatest of ease, she found her vocation. It was as simple as that.