"This type of dancing was totally unsuited to her," said Ned, "and I told her so. And I also told her what her 'line' was. She took my advice, and today she leads the world in that type of dancing, and her salary has four figures in it every week."

The man who can do that is a genius, and Ned Wayburn has done it many, many times.

There is one outstanding fact in his entire career as producer of shows and director of the education of his pupils in his dancing studios: He insists that everything and everybody about him shall be "the best." His studios are fitted up "the best," regardless of cost. Sixty thousand dollars he paid for the fittings and furnishings of the two floors contained in his perfect establishment for teaching dancing at Columbus Circle, Broadway and Sixtieth Street, New York. His instructing staff must be "the best." His pupils must be "the best." I mean by that, not that the pupils are so qualified when they enter, but that when they are ready to graduate from his institution into the professional life of the stage, then they must be "the best"; nothing else will do.

So, too, in his own stage productions, and he has several, and more are in prospect. They are nowhere slighted. The best cast, music, dancing, costumes, scenery—everything—always. Ned never was a piker. He wasn't born that way. Lavish some consider him, but he finds his luxuriant presentations are appreciated by the line in front of the box office. He couldn't put on a "cheap" show if he wanted to. One goes to a Ned Wayburn show with the assurance of getting his money's worth in beauty and pleasurable entertainment. It pays; and the financial test is after all the one criterion by which to form a final judgment in things theatrical.

Now I am going to give some details of the inspiring career that began with an ambitious boy possessed of an artistic temperament, a love of music and of the beautiful, and who was at the same time a "hustler" and a born executive—a career developed by experience, still in progress and not yet at its culmination. As you read, it will seem almost incredible that one man, still comparatively young, could in so brief a period have accomplished so much that calls for great mental stress and extraordinary physical activity.


Ned Wayburn was born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, where his parents were socially prominent. Later the Wayburn family moved to Atlanta, Georgia, and thence to Chicago. During his school days he first attracted attention as an amateur athlete, winning recognition as a fast runner, trick skater, tennis player, center rush on various football teams, and finally as a semi-professional baseball pitcher and home-run hitter. While employed in his father's manufacturing plant in Chicago, he took part in many amateur theatricals, and became noted as a dramatic coach for charity entertainments and clubs, leading cotillions and taking part in many society and club entertainments.

It was at that time that his success in directing and writing dialogue for amateur theatricals attracted the attention of Hart Conway, of the Chicago School of Acting, who promptly engaged him as assistant. At the same time, he had the privilege of seeing and studying the greatest stars and the best attractions at the Chicago Grand Opera House, where he began at the very bottom of the ladder as an usher in the gallery, balcony and main floor. Finally he became chief usher—then sold tickets for the gallery—took tickets at the main door. The late Aaron Hoffman, famous playwright, was opera glass boy at that time with him, and the well-known star, Taylor Holmes, was one of his ushers! Eventually he became Assistant Superintendent of that theatre.

To gain additional experience, Ned worked as a "super" with many different attractions, including the companies of Olga Nethersole, Otis Skinner, Walker Whiteside, Julia Stuart, etc., finally playing small parts in the legitimate and Shakespearian drama.

Having displayed a natural aptitude as a director while holding "prompt books" at rehearsals, he became a dramatic director and actor of eccentric comedy and character parts. Then his natural instinct for dancing asserted itself, and he became a specialty dancer, practicing from three to eight hours a day to perfect his dancing, incidentally developing his talent as a musician.