_Daniel S. Slade_ Emmett Corrigan. _Senator Strickland_ William H. Tooker. _Robert Hayes_ Milton Sills. _Wesley Merritt_ S. K. Walker. _Brigham Hunt_ Bert Hyde. _Ex-Governor Hibbard_ John A. Dewey. _Colonel George Smith_ Will H. Nicholson. _John Hart_ Albert Lane. _Charles Ingram_ Harry B. Wilson. _William_ Jack Smith. _Martin_ Frank Hand. _Jake_ John N. Wheeler. _A Passerby_ James Singer. _A Bookworm_ Stuart Walker. _Jake’s Friend_ Edward Horton. _A Cashier_ George H. Shelton. _A Man Behind the Pastry Counter_ Robert J. Lance. _Waiter No. 7_ John H. McKenna. _Waiter No. 2_ Harrison Fowler. _Mary Slade_ Emma Dunn. _Katherine Strickland_ Gladys Hanson. _Mrs. Wesley Merritt_ Teresa Maxwell-Conover. _Susan_ Jane Briggs. _A Girl of the Streets_ Eloise Murray. _A Scrubwoman_ Judith Snaith. “YEARS OF DISCRETION.” Satirical and amusing use has been made in various works of fiction of the old, or elderly, parent who behaves in an inappropriately youthful manner. Charles Mathews built the capital old farce (I wonder if anybody else ever recalls it now?) of “My Awful Dad!” around that idea: Collins utilized it when he sketched _Madame Pratolungo’s_ “Evergreen Papa.” It is one of the expedients of comicality in “Years of Discretion,” a farcical comedy by Frederick Hatton and Fanny Locke Hatton which Belasco presented, November 4, 1912, at the Empire Theatre, Syracuse, New York, and at the Belasco Theatre, New York, on December 12, following. In that entertaining play a buxom widow of fifty, _Mrs. Farrell Howard_ by name, growing intolerably weary of a humdrum life, leaves the little rural town where she resides and repairs to New York,--where, with the aid of hair dye, tight lacing and a fashionable dressmaker, she puts on the semblance of a gay young woman and recklessly participates in frivolous dissipations, fascinating many ardent males and scandalizing her somewhat sedate and priggish son. At the last she consents to marry one of her numerous admirers, to whom she is honestly attached. After a little struggle with vanity and the fear of losing his regard she confesses to him that, with her, things are not what they seem; that she is not really a roguish young woman eager for social festivity, but rather an elderly one who has grown tired of it, who is inclined to be stout and is extremely uncomfortable by reason of restrictive stays and tight shoes. She is surprised and delighted when he, in turn, confesses