Publisher's Synopsis
Excerpt from Oscar Wilde: Fragments and Memories
Arly in the nineties Clyde Fitch, an ambitious young American, had a play produced in London.\ After the final curtain some rowdies in the pit coaxed the inexperienced playwright to appear before the footlights and proceeded to boo and hiss him off as soon as he stepped in view. But the young man was not crushed. They will have to applaud me yet, he exclaimed, and his subsequent meteoric career proved that he had fine talents. At that time, however, there were few in London who would listen to his verses, stories, and plays, and fewer still tobuy them. In a notebook of the period we find him paraphrasing an ancient pessimistic troubadour, My fate is like the nightingale's, That singeth all night long, While still the woodlands mournfully But echo back his song.
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