“She died day after baby was born.” “No?” “Yassir. Stone dead. Sure’s I live.” The poor hero breaks down and sobs and wails and howls and blubbers, distraction in his aspect, his knees knock together, he throws his hat in the dust—and all the while the audience is convulsed with laughter. The Negro women in the stalls find their chairs too small for them and all but fall on to the floor; the smartly dressed Negro youths in the boxes are guffawing from wide-opened mouths and laughing as much with their bodies as with their faces. “Mother and I went to town to buy the coffin,” says Buddy. “Poor old Mother!” “Did Mother forgive me?” “Oh, yes, she forgave you all right. Such a mother as she was. She knew you were bad and wrong and a disgrace, but she loved you. Ah, how she loved you!” “I am glad there’s poor old Mother.” “Mother and I arranged for the funerals, but we had to sell up the home. Yes, every stick.” More and more grief on the part of husband. “I’ll go in and see her anyway,” says he, moving toward the door. “Stop!” says Buddy. “Wha’s the matter?” “She’s dead ... run over by a trolley car as we were going to the funeral ...” and so on, the dénouement of course being that when he is about to go and hang himself he catches a glimpse of Mother, larger, if possible, than life, and he realizes it is all a hoax, and then Baby appears with her little baby—and all is joy. Of course the play _par excellence_ for a Negro theatre is “Othello,” or rather, for a Negro actor in a mixed cast. Unfortunately, no white company in the United States will allow a Negro actor to take even a subordinate role. Even “nigger” parts, humorous Negro parts, have to be taken by white men. An anomaly to be remedied! The profession of acting is too noble a one for color prejudice to lurk there. I fear, however, that it will be long before mixed companies of white and colored actors perform on the dramatic stage in the United States. “Othello” apparently is seldom played, though the old tragedy of Shakespeare is strangely of the time and _apropos_. The tragedy of _Othello_ exhibits the same race prejudice existent in the sixteenth century as now, and expresses itself in similar terms. The white woman is not for Moors or Negroes on any terms. It is almost incredible that _Desdemona_ should shun The wealthy curled darlings of our nation, to incur a general mock, Run from her guardage to the sooty bosom Of such a thing as thou. He must have used an enchantment on her. _Othello_ is the devil. He is a black man. He is a Barbary horse— You’ll have your nephews neigh to you. You’ll have coursers for cousins and gennets for Germans.