ONE OF THE MOST STRIKING FEATURES of the quarrel between the Abbey Theatre directors and Sean O'Casey over The Silver Tassie in 1928 was the reaction of the directors to O'Casey's behaviour. They were surprised, even upset when the playwright, far from meekly accepting (as they expected) their adverse opinions on his play, turned round on each of them from Yeats to Lennox Robinson and rent their criticisms into pieces in a series of public attacks unmatched for ferocity and sheer pugnacious brilliance. Today it is difficult to understand how Yeats and, in particular, Lady Gregory could have so completely misunderstood the essential nature of O'Casey's character. Not that they needs must have accepted the play, but that their rejection should really have been more tactfully-and honestly conducted. Yeats was, I feel sure, only trying to help a still struggling writer when he suggested that the playwright should "excuse" the Abbey's rejection by saying that he (O'Casey) had withdrawn the play for "revision." Instead, O'Casey scorned excuses and explanations, told the public that the Abbey had refused his play because it was considered a bad play whereas he, the author, still thought it a fine one. From then on, the battle lines were drawn.