Eagerly we had been awaiting the return of our friend Najla Aqrawi to writing for The Woman's Voice, after we had tasted and savored, in last year's issues, the flavor of her fine talks. Here she is today, after months of silence, writing to us from the capital of France a series on "Theatrical Activity in Paris." Mrs. Aqrawi's talk of the theater is no dilettante's intrusion; it is the talk of a specialist of discriminating taste, whose eye is ever on the development and growth of this art.

Laura (Ingrid Bergman) offers Tom "tea and sympathy," and makes of him a true man

In early October the Parisian theater returns to its activity and vitality after the three summer months, when most theaters close their doors and the community of actors deserts the capital in search of rest and travel. The current season is perhaps among the richest Paris has known in these recent years since the Great War, for at present there are seventy-two plays being performed in fifty-seven theaters — this if we except the opera, the night spots, and the cabarets of every kind. Among these plays are some adapted from Russian literature, such as Chekhov's "Ivanov"; some translated from English, such as Bernard Shaw's "Mrs. Warren's Profession"; some from the very heart of classical French literature, such as Molière's "Le Bourgeois

Gentilhomme," or from modern French literature, such as "The Woman" by the contemporary writer Armand Salacrou, or Montherlant's "Port-Royal." This season the American plays have multiplied — by the writers Faulkner, Tennessee Williams, and Robert Anderson.

In this first installment of my series I shall today offer the readers of The Woman's Voice a description of the play "Tea and Sympathy" (Thé et Sympathie) by the American writer Robert Anderson, as I saw it last week at the Théâtre de Paris, with the famous screen actress Ingrid Bergman in the leading role.

The events of the play take place in an American boys' college in the New England region. The ideal student at this college, as the author draws him for us, is usually tall of stature and brawny of forearm; he is good at sports and aspires to captain the football or baseball team; he is sociable, always on the move and mixing with others, natural in his conduct, inclined to the company of girls, and boastful of his various amorous adventures. The college is ruled by an atmosphere of superficial education which aims, as a rule, at raising a generation sound in body and mind, practical in bent, and merry, with something of the natural noisiness of youth and their agreeable freedom.

The student Tom stands apart from the rest of his comrades in being small of body and quiet of temper; he lives withdrawn into himself, delighting in listening to classical music instead of the usual "jazz," and in reading idealistic poetry instead of talking of boyish adventures or bragging of athletic prowess.

So his comrades look at him with astonishment and puzzlement, because he does not share their tastes and inclinations, and they pelt him with their biting, cruel mockery. Between Tom and the teacher Harris a pure friendship grows, out of the harmony of their artistic leanings; and one day one of the