Script-Tease

One Saturday night recently in Boston, the Shubert Theatre's SRO sign was out. Inside, Leave It to Me, a musicomedy soon to open on Broadway, sailed ahead to roars of laughter. Victor Moore wowed the audience in the role of a dumbbell U. S. Ambassador to the Soviet Union. The pretty Goodhue girls revived memories of the Florodora Sextet. The box office had counted up a huge $25,000 for the week, and the show's press-agent remarked: "I've never seen a show run so smoothly before it reached Broadway."

Meanwhile, a few blocks away in Boston's Hotel Ritz-Carlton, Authors Bella & Sam Spewack, shuddering at the thought of Broadway critics, were slashing the script of Leave It to Me, rushing off to hammer typewriters. While the audience was holding its sides over Act II, Act II was going, bit by bit, into the Spewack wastebasket. While the audience was filing out after the show, behind the curtain the cast was flopping down on the stage before being handed practically new parts and rehearsing them far into the night.

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