_Father Fisher_ Edward Donnelly. _Peter_ Frank Reicher. _Sergeant Otto Beck_ } { Henry Vogel. _Corp. Philip Meissner_ } Uhlans { Jerome Patrick. _Steinhauser_ } in a { Paul Stanley. _Hartmann_ } Prussian { Alphonse Ethier. _Horn_ } Regiment. { Edward Waldmann. _Mittendorf_ } { Charles W. Kaufman. _Schramm_ } { Robert Robson. { Margaret Cadman. { Edith King. _Sisters_ { Dorothy Turner. { Edythe Maynard. { Madeleine Marshall. { Gertrude Wagner. { Hugo Schmedes. _Soldiers_ { August Nelson. { Albert Mack. RECONCILIATION WITH CHARLES FROHMAN--AND JOINT PRESENTMENT OF “A CELEBRATED CASE.” The antagonism of Belasco and the Theatrical Syndicate, which he fought for so many years, naturally led to friction between him and Charles Frohman,--a person of extraordinary self-conceit, who loved to have applied to himself the ridiculous designation of “the Napoleon of the Theatre”; who aspired to be thought the greatest of theatrical managers, and who, necessarily, felt himself rebuked under the superior talents of the man with whom, in early years, he had been so closely associated and who had done so much to make his career possible. In 1903 he had a personal quarrel with Belasco (about what I do not know), and for twelve years thereafter they were more or less actively at enmity and treated each other as strangers. Frohman, however, appears to have possessed engaging qualities, which endeared him to many of those who knew him well. Belasco, for example, has assured me that through all the time of their estrangement he “cherished a great affection for ‘Charlie,’” and that he is “grateful beyond words that our misunderstanding was cleared up and our friendship renewed before he sailed away to his death.” Frohman left New York on board the steamship Lusitania, May 1, 1915, and he lost his life, May 7, when, to the eternal infamy of the German nation, that vessel was sunk off Old Head of Kinsale, Ireland. “I was alone in my studio, one evening early in 1915,” Belasco has told me, “and by chance I noticed a newspaper paragraph about Charles Frohman being ill, at the Hotel Knickerbocker. It set me thinking about our first meeting so long ago in San Francisco, and of all that followed; of our first venture in Chicago and of all the years when we worked together and had rooms side by side, when ‘Charlie’ used to consult me about everything and I used to read my ‘May Blossom’ to him. As I sat