Margaret O'Brien won herself a new title in her stage debut last Monday night. Playing in Clare Booth Luce's "Child of the Morning," she proves herself not only the best sniveler in the movies, but the best sniveler in the theatre as well. In that capacity she is well fitted for the play, a sermon that should never have stumbled onto the stage at all.

Margaret plays a sixteen year old version of Jeanne D'Arc who cannot decide whether to enter a convent, thus pleasing one half of her family, or stay out and please the other half. By the end of the first act last Monday, the audience seemed in favor of the convent--the sooner the better.

Mrs. Luce's script gives her every chance to flood the stage with tears, purity, and goodness. Every character has at least two problems, and it seems that only Margeret can fix things with the Lord for them. As the play rolls on, the problems rapidly deteriorate into such a tangle that even Margaret has serious trouble fixing things for everyone--including herself.

But being a clever girl, she manages to get shot in the play's last thirty seconds and so doing solves everything. During the three hours in between, she cures old hatreds, converts old bigots, performs minor miracles, and preaches the word of God at a psalm-per-minute rate in one gigantic back-to-the-Lord movement.

The playgoer cannot place any blame on the supporting cast members who could do no more than mouth the words that evidently sung themselves into Mrs. Luce's ears. The words belong in a pulpit, not on a stage. Nor can the supporting players be blamed for not helping the audience understand the play's last wild thirty seconds where everyone is converted to the true faith.

However, P. J. Kelly--drafted from a straw-hat version of "Finian's Rainbow" last summer was always entertaining, affording some relief to the succession of gloomy tribulations. Beyond Kelly, the "Child of the Morning" has two attractions. If you have seen and enjoyed Ingrid Bergman's "Joan of Arc" by all means go to the Shubert and have a good burst of indignation at the inhumanity of humanity. Or if you enjoy seeing a pigtailed, mortal-saint attacked in her bedroom by Lucky Luciano's nephew, see the "Child of the Morning's" last act.