Clarence
by BOOTH TARKINGTON
Going to Manhattan's Roundabout Theater in the decade of its existence has always had the anticipatory excitement of going on an archaeological dig. You can usually count on a dramatic find, something that no other theater group is likely to be doing. In recent seasons, the Roundabout's venturesome founders, Gene Feist and Michael Fried, have offered playgoers a delectable comedy of sexual theatrics, Molnar's The Play's the Thing; Barrie's salute to the canny primacy of the female, What Every Woman Knows; and a world première of James Joyce's Dubliners steeped in Ireland's...
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