Price 15 cents GOAN 'owp\Anj> wjot cy\diidj&z bimz A l W A V S M £ B U U E O Q C M I D COPDAY.PAQir IMPORTED BY LIONEL , 3QO FIFTH AVE , NEW YORK CORDAY LIPPTICK9— rUPERUATIVE/ The Chicagoan, published semi-monthly by The Chicagoan Pub. Co., Inc., 417 Main St., Wilmette, 111. Executive and editorial offices, 154 East Erie St., Chicago, 111. John E. McGrath, Editor; Arthur Ruddy, Art Director. Subscription $3.00, single copies 15c. Vol. 2, No. 5, November 15, 1926. Entered as second class matter August 11, 1926, at the post office at Wilmette, 111., under act of March 3, 1879. Copyrighted 1926, by The Chicagoan Publishing Co., Inc. 2 TUE CHICAGOAN o V TUE CU-ICAGOANy OR? CENT. OOI9 tVES.AN0SAT.Mfir 504 to$Z&& SAT. EVE.$3~ j/£D.MAT.$2f>o j FUNNIEST SHOW IN TOWN L ALL CHICAGO 15 HOWLING ^ WITH LAUGHTER AT WITH AMY LESUe "GOOD SHOW ~~GOOD FUAt" F/tei>. X>OA/AGHr ILLINOIS NOW THEATRE 2^S Evening 8:15 Matinees, Wed. and Sat. 2:15 Aarons and Freedley Present 'Tip-Toes' The Musical Comedy Triumph of Two Continents with GEORGE GERSHWIN Music Queenie Smith, Andrew Tombes, Harry Watson, Jr., Richard Keene and America's Greatest Dancing Chorus THE THEATRE Drama IN THIS ROOM— With Louis Wolheim, star of What Price Glory. With Olive Tell and Donald Gallagher. THE PRINCESS. THE SIN OF SINS— Proving— or attempting to, at least (the outcome is conjectural) — that women are just as curi ous and unforgivable as men. THE ADELPHI. ONE MAN'S WOMAN— The purpose of which is to show that lonely white men in the tropics say a lot of things they don't mean and do a number of things which they know thev shouldn't. But why go to the tropics? THE CENTRAL. Comedy THE POOR NUT— Still playing to capacity houses. Ohio State wins the track meet — -also the girl. With Elliott Nugent, Betty Garde, Larry Fletcher, and Eric Kalhkurst. THE CORT. THE BUTTER AND EGG MAN— With Gregory Kelly. The title sounds bad, but we have a lot of faith in Gregory Kelly. THE SELWYN. THE SHELF— With Frances Starr and Arthur Byron. In teresting, but, to use a critic's phrase, hardly "burns a hole in the asbestos curtain." THE LASALLE. THE JAZZ SINGER— With George Jessel playing the role of the little Jewish boy who must choose between the stage and the synagogue. Some good moments, but, on the whole, a bit too unconvincingly sentimental. THE HARRIS. SHE COULDN'T SAY NO— Florence Moore and not a lot more. THE OLYMPIC. THE RUNNAWAY ROAD— Mrs. Samuel Insull. THE STUDEBAKER. YOUNG WOODLEY— With Glenn Hunter. Successful New York run. THE BLACKSTONE. ALIAS THE DEACON— Leaving soon. A card playing drunkard taking the fillings of back teeth from villains and benefitting the good people. Nothing new. THE PLAY HOUSE. THE GAME OF LOVE AND DEATH— The Goodman players. Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturdav evenings. THE GOODMAN, East Monroe Street. Musical THE VAGABOND KING— If I were King well set to music. Dennis King as Francois Villon. THE GREAT NORTH ERN. PRINCESS FLAVIA— Based on the novel, The Prisoner of Zenda, with some good music. FOUR COHANS. SWEETHEART TIME— Youth, music and romance— a typi cal musical comedy with some good dancing. THE GARRICK. :u& CHICAGOAN */ » o • VfaflimtrmitiMihTfnipft^^ CALENDAR OP EVENT/ Revues LE MAIRE'S AFFAIRS— Sorry they're leaving. But while they're here they're still the dirtiest and the best show in town. Sophie Tucker, Ted Lewis, and Lester Allen. WOODS. ... THE COCOANUTS— Fair music by Irving Berlin and the four Marx Brothers and their capers. ERLANGER. GREENWICH VILLAGE FOLLIES— The one that played in New York last year. Not quite so bad as Earl Carroll's Vanities, but—. APOLLO. Ballet BCLM BALLETT — Ruth Page. In a series of performances. EIGHTH STREET THEATRE. - Vodvil PALACE— First class bills. STATE-LAKE — Next best bet. First run movies also. MAJESTIC — Continuous from noon to 11 p. m. AFTER THEATRE BALOON ROOM — A crystal revolving light which is dis turbing, but the food and Johnny Hamp's orchestra more than make up for it. THE CONGRESS HOTEL. BAL TABARIN— With mannekins in the walls and Jack Chapman's orchestra. The latter, however, is by far the more alluring. Drawing large crowds. THE SHERMAN HOUSE. (Use the Lake Street entrance or you'll never find the right place). CHEZ PIERRE — An unusual restaurant. Dinner, dancing, entertainment, and after theatre supper. Ontario Street and Fairbanks Court. DRAKE GRILL— Redecorated. Bobby Meeker and his orchestra. Saturday night crowd. But excellent through out the week. DRAKE HOTEL. L'AIGLON — Dining, dancing — exphasis on the dining. 824 North Michigan. MARINE DINING ROOM-^Friday night is college night; Northwestern turns out entourage. Saturday is more — representative. Try Friday night. EDGEWATER BEACH HOTEL. POMPEIAN ROOM— Henri Gendron and his orchestra. Good food but little dancing. THE CONGRESS HOTEL. SAMOVAR— Russian surroundings, entertainment, and music, but not much space on whicn to dance. 624 South Michigan Boulevard. THE ALAMO— Lighted glass floor and Al Handler and his orchestra. 831 Wilson. VICTORIAN ROOM— Good food, pleasant surroundings, and Jules Herbuveaux' orchestra. Particularly attractive for a quiet after theatre supper. YE OLD HAY LOFTE— Dancing, dining, and the college boys. Evanston. ERLANGER (Clark near Randolph) NOW PLAYING Matinees Wednesday and Saturday SEATS NOW SELLING Sam H. Harris -Presents the Marx Brothers -IN- The Cccoanuts Music and Lyrics by Irving Berlin Book by Geo. S. Kaufman WORLD'S GREATEST LAUGH RIOT "One Man's Woman" Frankest Sex Drama Ever Staged! " — is all the advertisements indicate — is hot — almost burns a hole in the asbestos curtain" — Says Ashton Stevens, in Herald-Examiner Direct from 7 Months at 48th St. Theatre New York at the MINTURN CENTRAL The Theatre Cozy Van Buren at Michigan Eves, at 8:30— Mats. Wed. and Sat. Special Matiness Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years TMCCI4ICAG0AN ^^^^^^^^^^^^^fs^ftfssmm^Ks^s^mts^s^sfSf^ms^ssftssnsf^f^f^w^^f^fstsff^^^^^^^^^^^^^^'^^^^^^^^^^^'^'^^ c\Jouwhy seek sma/it things in in hi m hi m m in in hi III III III You are invited to a showing of imported models and original McAvoy designs - - 5| Day Dresses, Dinner and Evening Gowns, jjj in Suits, Hats, Wraps, Furs and Novelties - m Whether made to order or ready to be „, worn, McAvoy models give the joyous III IH III III " '"' '"' " """" III III satisfaction only smart things can give - - and you will find moderate prices - ¦ - • m hi hi in hi hi in m """" " "" in 615 N Michigan Avenue S CHICAGO m -..-¦. hi in hi hi hi HI TH-E TALK OF TI4E TOWN TIPPING hats, despite all words to the contrary and in defiance of all college presumptions, is not, we insist, a past art. Passengers on the State Street car, so we are told — that is certain passengers — tip their hats when the car crosses Superior Street. Why? Well — Remembering that there is a cathedral on that corner, we thought we had solved the irregu larity; but, and we feel that this assumption can be justified, we de cided that it might be done out of a forced respect for the manipula tors of certain machine guns which every citizen has a right to feel might be stationed near that par ticular corner. It's done this season, you know. After all, whether the act is performed through respect for the machine guns or the cathe dral is, possible, optional; the fact remains that hat tipping takes place there. The purpose of the act is unimportant; we're interested only in the act. We have a scheme WE even heard that some of the State Street car conduc tors, when crossing that corner, reverently raise their hands to their heads to tip their blue caps. And if that is true, (although it is, we ad mit, difficult to believe), we certain ly shall see that we board a State Street car at Superior Street if it is the last thing we do. We shall find one polite conductor in Chi cago, or know the reason why. BIG business comes and goes; sometimes it goes gracefully and sometimes not. But, we dis covered, all big business is not conducted on LaSalle Street. A story comes to us that a few urchins make their daily sandwich by standing in line at the Oriental Theatre until they near the ticket office; then, to show their saga city, psychology, and taste for good business, they sell their places for fifty cents or more. They than re turn to the foot of the line — if they find that necessary — and work their way once again to the ticket office, where, without trouble, they sell their places to other flypaper salesmen and chocolate dippers. Interesting, isn't it? And exceed ingly lucrative — very much so on a rainy night. Did You Say Fetish ? THERE has been, particularly through the literary and theatrical channels of this century, a complete airing of fetishism among the so-called and much abused human race ; but, to date, it has never come to our close atten tion that this weakness, if that's what it is, has ever had anything to do with animals other than what our biologists like to refer to as man. Well — A CERTAIN mounted police man, whose beat takes him up and down one of the loop streets, tells us that he has a horse — and, we must understand, it is a fine horse — which has a fetish for the buttons of men's coats. A cur- 6 TWtCWICAGOAN ious situation. And, he tells us, it is not that this horse eats the but tons — no, it is nothing like that; this animal, and he made it very clear, is altogether too clever to attempt anything so gastronomic- ally unwise as that. It's just a playful beast that likes to reach over and tear the buttons from the coats of all men passersby. And should he, by mistake, happen to get, with the button, some of the cloth of the coat or a few ribs of the man, one is to assume that it is all a mistake, nothing more. There was no maliciousness in tended. "He particularly likes big, bright buttons," the officer told us ^'some times he gives us a lot of trouble." "And does this fetish ever make him — well, uncontrollable ?" Wre asked him. "Does he ever get loose and become satiated with this idea of his?" No, the animal was not running amuck in the loop, he assured us ; he saw to that. Although we don't believe every thing the facetious officer told us, still we can't help thinking, if it is true, what a glorious time that horse will have during the army and navy parade. WILL someone please explain this to us. Understand that this article is neither accusing nor demanding; we are merely con fused and would like to have the matter straightened. In the September issue of Vanity Fair there appeared a page of verse by Mr. Theodore Dreiser entitled Recent Poems of Love and Sorrow. There was among the collection one bit which carried the title The Beautiful. It starts out like this : They think it easy to be a woman To love and be loved, But I know better. Again and again I tell you I know, I understand. Perhaps, of all men; I alone understand. Which is all very fine. But in Winesburg, Ohio, written by Sher wood Anderson and published in 1919 there appears a story, Tandy, from which we quote the following lines : "They think it's easy to be a woman, to be loved, but I know better. I understand," he cried, "Perhaps of all men I alorte under stand." We might say that the re semblance is striking, but striking is a weak word. Then Mr. Dreiser's poem goes on to say : I know about her because She has crossed my path. I know her struggles And her defeats It is because of her defeats That she is to me The lovely one. For out of her defeats Has been born A new quality in women. I have no name for that But I have a name for her. I call her Beautiful. Whereas the speech in Mr. An derson's story goes on to say: "I know about her, although she has never crossed my. path," he said softly. "I know about her strug gles and her defeats. It is because of her defeats that she is to me the lovely one. Out of her defeats has been born a new quality in woman. I have a name for it. I call it Tandy. Once more, Mr. Dreiser ends his poem with these lines : It is the one thing men need From women — so many men — And that They do not find. Mr. Anderson's paragraph ends thus : It is something men need from women and that they do not get." WITH the usual caution of The Chicagoan, we can only bow our head and refuse to comment; we pass gently by with out one finger pointing — no accu sations, no suggestions. Our con servatism and gentleness, we feel, is commendatory. But — We are looking foward to an ex planation ; that, at least, is our pre rogative, surely. And we are very curious to see what the magazines throughout the country will say — particularly the better class maga zines of which both Mr. Anderson and Mr. Dreiser are contributing editors. This is particularly interesting when one remembers the recent articles in Two Worlds over the Masefield controversy. Wrhether or not this accusation is just is still, perhaps, conjectural. And the Chicagoan, again demonstrating its gentleness, says "oh yes. How in teresting." Slight Error DURING a recent performance of the Adolph Bolm Ballet at the Eighth Street Theatre a- crowd was standing in the lobby discus sing the entertainment. There were present a number of smart people, many of whom were trying to be very grand. Of all the grand ones, a certain elderly gentleman who stood away from the crowd was by far the grandest. Many of the peo ple in the lobby were watching him, trying to decide just who he was. A cab drew up in front of the theatre and the driver jumped out to open the door. But no one came out. The driver waited a moment, standing by the door like TI4C CHICAGOAN 7 a well trained footman, and still no one came out. Everyone in the lobby was interested ; even the grand man in the corner cast a glance in the direction of the cab. There was all the dramatic intense- ness of a Camille coughing scene. THE driver, after a stretch of what he considered polite waiting, entered the cab and began to wave his hands about. A mo ment later a man, a bit under the wave, with his hat over one ear his necktie askew, and bundlee bulging from his pockets splashed to the sidewalk. He walked delib erately, though rather insecurely, into the lobby and straight to the grand gentleman in the corner. "How's it coming out?" he asked. "Why", the gentleman stam mered. He had one of those why- did-you-have-to-pick-on-me looks. "Why, the first act has just been completed". "First act? Whadaya mean first act?" The visitor* grabbed him by the shoulder. "Listen" he said, "just a minute. Who's winning? Who's ahead? My brother's one of them, you know. Sure, he's the champeen. Say, whadaya mean the first act is over?". But the gentleman sealed his lips and walked away. "What's the matter here, any way, what's the matter?" At least he had an interested if not a particularly friendly audi ence. "What's the matter here, any way ; say, what's the matter ? Whadaya mean the first act is over?"' An usher came up to him in the very superior manner that ushers like to assume. He grabbed the usher by both lapels and said, "Say, buddy, tell me something, will ya?" Where am I? Say, isn't this the six-day bicycle race? I'm looking for the Coliseum. My brother's the champeen there." Ghosts THE steel points of winter were in the air. We walked along the lake from the Drake to Lin coln Park. It was dusk and the walk was deserted. Along the drive the motors were humming north. Walkers on the boulevard carried their heads in their coat collars. But the walk along the lake was deserted. There was a strong wind blowing, and the trees were black and sharp against the yellow sky. Near Oak Street where the water rolls up on the sand an old woman was gathering beach wood. All around us were people rushing by in expensive motors; smart peo ple arriving at the hotels for din ner; the busses were crowded with tired business men and women hurrying to stock city apartments ; and near the lake an old woman with a shawl on her head was gathering beach wood. She was gathering shiny sticks and plac ing them on a red blanket, which, a fewr moments later, she picked up, clutching the four corners se curely, and started toward the "The first act is over" the gentle man repeated. He fixed his tie, pulled down his collar, and looked away. There was about him the look of a person who wished he were someplace else - — someone wrho very decidedly wished he were someplace else. "Whadaya mean the first act?" But the grand gentleman merely walked away. This, certainly, was not a matter to interest him. drive. There was a certain grace about her as she walked along; certainly she was not apologizing for her bundle of chips. "Pretty heavy load, isn't it?" we asked her. "Heavy? — no. I come here every Thursday. I like beach wood because it makes a hot fire for bak ing. You see, I bake every Friday and I always use beach wood for 8 TUECUICAGOAN Picture of Mr. Smith who intended to discharge his stenographer because she couldn't spell the fire. It makes the bread taste better". And she walked away, leaning against the wind, the red bundle on her shoulders flashing against the dull grey of the street. Headlines QUEEN Marie sees Chicago. The Mayor finally reached a decision on the perplexing prob lem "What a city official should wear when meeting a queen at five- thirty in the afternoon", Marie has come and gone, and the picnic ele ment of the city is suffering from stiff necks caused by too much straining in an attempt to get a look at her majesty. That's over. One is not to assume, however, that, so far as Chicago is con cerned, anything has been gained by the visit except, possibly, a fine bit of publicity for the Lake Shore Drive Hotel which institution, doubtless, from now until the next Chicago World's Fair, will have Queen Marie suites, salad dress ings, and meat sauces — and, cer tainly, an increase in prices. PRINCETON breaks with Har vard. Perhaps, had the sacredness of the blessed trinity been shattered, there could not have been demon strated more surprise and indigna tion than when Harvard and Princeton severed athletic rela tions. How tragic. We are weeping. That Harvard should not play Princeton annually is, according to the two remaining schools of the self-defensive big three alliance, approximately as unorthodox as to have Mr. Ford sacrifice his millions in defense of the Jewish organiza tions throughout the country. And that Harvard, in a splurge of good taste, should prefer to play the University of Michigan— -well .... The east is speechless. Of what could Harvard be thinking? — want ing to play a mid-western univer sity that way. Do you blame us for weeping? And the most consoling thing about it is that our great news papers, by means of front page headlines, (the sport page on so great an occasion, would be inade quate) have told us breathlessly and tragically all about it. TENSENESS relieved by post ponement of church celebra tion at which Catholic priest was to dedicate flag pole given by Jew to Methodist church and a Negro was to raise flag given by the klan ; and Twenty Thousand factories ready in event of war, experts are told. Who said the war was over? PEACHES Browning warned against premature shopping trip as court postpones alimony hearing; and Captain Stege, on eve of discovery of gem secrets, hears that some one robbed supposed robbers. Take what you can get, dearie; and tell 'em your name is Smith. CRIME commission seeks to re vise criminal code to prevent more verdicts like one in Saltis case. If we weren't afraid of hanging, we'd say what we think. POLICE charge Dublin rioters when Republicans battle roy alists at Armistice celebration; many hurt. That's one way to celebrate peace day. Tennessee Irregularities Waterloo, Ala. June 6 — About a year ago a man and woman who had been living together for some years, were forced to marry. — Now they can get a divorce and be happy ! A bicycle rider ran amuck again today. He crashed into a fruit stand, scattered the fruit all over the street and broke three of his fingers. — Memphis, Tenn., News- Scimitar. Make the punishment fit the crime. Grandmother fined $10 on charge of being drunk. — Memphis, Tenn., Commercial Appeal. Girls will be girls. TWCCWICAGOAN GIRL wanted this morning. 1233 Neptune — Memphis, Tenn., Com mercial-Appeal. Here's Wishing You Luck ! —ERIN, TENN., "NEWS" Philanthropy They tell this story about Miss Berty Garde who plays the femi nine lead in The Poor Nut. She was coming out of the Bel mont Hotel one day this week when a beggar with a huge horse blanket safety pin holding together his coat and with his hat pulled tight over his eyes handed her a little card which read something like this : My eyes are blind, I cannot see : And God will bless you For alms you give to me. The verse, she decided, was a bit conceited, but he really looked like a beggar, she felt, and she imagined that he did need funds. She forgot to look at his eyes to see if they were blind, but he had his hat pulled down so far anyway she would not have been able to tell. Besides, Miss Garde, as she now admits, does not know much about beggars. She was really in a hurry to get to the loop, but her heart being moved, she opened her purse and finding no small change handed the man a dollar bill. "Will that help you?" she asked. But he did answer her. He un buttoned the huge safety pin, put it in his pocket, pushed back his hat, stepped into an enormous Packard sedan and drove away. And Miss Garde took a bus to the loop, wondering whether the beggar's deceit would have any thing to do with the supposed re ward usually attached to philan thropy. —THE EDITORS Dancing class registering the same emotion. The two top figures seem to be getting along fairly well; but the bottom row appears a bit confused, don't you think ? The emotion is glee. 10 TUECUICAGOAN %-- <*~ \ m i '-..,*> TCXi''* / '• r 1 *•> tf^f^ y »p» ¦\ t. - V*-- - w . -r s< 'j / -s /«*£ s '<y?M'& "S--J <W: '. <,* -y) ., v " » * <* ' "" if "^ .^- ' / * ,* ",-"''; " >y » -1' ;',*? ^s--"" f |V,v.v- •¦ safe-' ; x^s ti^x V V^P^ 1 /' * XT «£>J / If we took too seriously the exit signs in the theatre "walk, do not run, to the nearest escape." TWk CHICAGOAN n PER/ONAL PORTRAIT/ AMOS Alonzo Stagg is his bap tismal and inherited name. The newspapers, however, have provided a series of pseudonyms — Old Man Stagg, the Old Man, Mis ter Stagg, Director Stagg, and lately (and quite irreverently) the Choirmaster. The sports writers who cover football on the Midway use such variants with the amaz ing plasticity of college freshman who have been told that word rep etition mars their themes. But the men on the squad, of which I am an insignificant member, al ways call his — in his presence, at least — Mister Stagg. In his ab sence — well, in his absence, they invariably refer to him as the Old Man. A part of our regular practice procedure is to divide into several elevens and run signals in different parts of the field. When the Old Man approaches one of these groups, the change which takes place is electric. The men in stantly become more eager in their work; they bend their heads in closer to hear the signals ; and one or two of the bunch is bound to say, "Jiggs ! Here comes the Old Man." MISTER Stagg insists on gen tlemanly behavior — curious and inconsistent, when one remem bers football coaches, but true ; consequently, as might be ex pected (again remembering foot ball coaches) the men on the field watch their language pretty care fully. In the locker room — well, that's different; the lid is off then, and the boys let loose on all the damns and what the hells they please. In the locker room every one is in the same boat. Sometimes, however, the Old Man does come to the locker room to see the weight charts, to inquire Jiggers Here Comes The Old Man who has a song for sale ! way, it is, believe it or not, carry ing a one hundred percent scoring average. THE singing Maroons have been the talk of the sporting world this fall. The sport writers have gone so far as to say that the Old Man looked around at the ner vous faces of the team before the game and decided, on the moment, to have them march on the field singing. I firmly believe that the Old Man did use this bit of psy- after injuries, etc., etc. Then something always happens. The minute he enters the dressing room the air is purified— almost sanctified. And it is very wise that it should be — if you know the Old Man. We have lots of fun giving false alarms. Should one of the boys, in some inexplainable man ner, have emitted a slight unchris tian phrase, one member of the squad is certain to exclaim, "Oh, how do you do Mr. Stagg". It's an old gag, of course, but in the football dressing room on the Mid- chology, but I disagree with the "on the moment" phrase. All dur ing the preliminary practice we had luncheon at the Windermere Hotel. Every day, after we had finished eating, our regular stunt was to sing Chicago songs. What of it? Our songs are just as much a part of our strategy as our come back plays are; and they were both thought out beforehand. He would start the songs by giving us the pitch. Usually, be fore the song was half finished, everyone realized that it was too 12 TWE CHICAGOAN low. That was a lot of fun ; we all laughed and said it was a good joke. We laughed because we hated to sing, and we hoped to break up the singing by jumping at every opportunity to guffaw. At such interruptions the Old Man would smile — a rather curious but insistent smile — and start the song over again at — if possible — a more workable pitch. I believe the Old Man himself loves to sing. I can imagine him during his childhood standing with his parents around an old reed organ, singing hymns. Perhaps at that time Mister Stagg. sang alto. But now, when he believes he has adequately taught the team the jist of a song, he likes to branch off on a tenor, which is very likely — very likely, indeed — to be flat. Often our captain, Wally Marks, would join him in a high tenor voice. Then the Old Man would smile, and his eyes shine with pride. The Old Man has an amusing peculi arity when he is singing. He likes to press his fingers against his left ear so as to make the flap shut out the sound. I think he does this in an effort to arrive at the exact pitch. Do you suppose I am right? The fact that he had us keep march time to all of our singing indicates that from the beginning he had thought of its psychological effect. Most of our singing during the first fifteen days of practice was done by the team formed in single file headed by the Old Man. This file wound in and out the tables, singing. Again he would have each of us stand still and stamp his left foot and swing his arms to the tune, like a lot of chorus girls. Still other times he remained seated at the luncheon table and beat upon it in lieu of a bass drum. He did not seem to heed the jump ing of the glasses, or the clatter of the knives and forks, but, on the contrary, to all appearances, at least, he enjoyed the noise. DOWN at Pennsylvania the team was transported in busses from the railroad station to the Manufacturers' Country Club. Now anyone who has had a ride in any kind of a passenger bus is fully acquainted with the cramped position two must take in order to sit in the same seat. Mister Stagg was the last one to get on the bus. There were just two places left to sit down — a narrow bit of seat be side me, and a somewhat wider patch of seat next to one of the centers. I underwent a variety of feelings during the comparatively short time it took the Old Man to decide. First, I felt the selfish feel ing of the street car rider who likes to have a whole seat to himself; second, I hoped the Old Man would sit next to me so that the rest of the team could see that I was honored ; third, I didn't want him to sit next to me because I was afraid I wouldn't know what to say to him — whether to talk of A ....- '.-,- > ' . * •*-•" ,» ¦ 4/ ¦ - - ->j :0 i' ' ,-V ,-V _._«.•". -v' ¦¦• ¦ -.•¦ y ¦¦ yy ¦ :¦-$ ¦ ¦¦-¦-¦¦r :':"? ¦.¦ •/¦ e '~C7^^ir -- . f ¦<? ;' V: '"*;_ / i '* y 1 - :. ; / '.-v~ I ,Cv ' t " : •-'¦•¦ H3SS& And I sez to him, "Take me to a swell place or none at all." So here I am. THE CHICAGOAN 13 the impending game, the ge ography of Philadelphia, or the weather; fourth, I felt relieved when he took the other seat, next to the center; and fifth, I felt em barrassed when he joked off the wmole situation by asserting to the team that my breadth across the pockets was ample cause for his choosing the other seat. Somehow (perhaps it was from my failure to appreciate the above joke on myself) the Old Man found out that my sense of humor — par ticularly the boomerang type — -was, at times, rather sluggish. So, in the presence of the squad, he told the following story to me in an attempt to illustrate my dull wit. "Twenty years ago", he said, "when I was taking an Olympic team across the water someone suddenly rushed up to Pete Dooley and told him that he was wanted on the telephone". Of course, all the team laughed, as teams usually do when a coach tells a story; but I thought then, and I continue to think, that it was a pretty poor crack. At another time I had innocently contracted an affliction of dubious origin; it was not serious but it was — well, inconvenient. Doc. Molander had me on the table to see what could be done when in walked the Old Man. "What's the matter, Hancock?" he asked. Carefully and judiciously Doc. explained to him. There was nothing to worry about. You know, he tried to tell him, shingles or rickets — itchy, but that's all. I think I must have blushed. The Old Man gave me a funny look. He came closer to me, staring at me, and shaking his head. "In all the years of my life", he said, "I have never had anything like that. And I don't see why a twenty-year old boy like you should have". I assured him that I wasn't boasting about it myself. And the Old Man walked away. —RALPH HANCOCK Grandma's Little Helper who could get along without him ? NOW that the fall terms of institutions of learning throughout the country are well under way (and that they are, Dieu merci !) I shall be able to cut down my letter-writing which I have wished to do for three months come Thursday. During these three months (come Thursday) my time has been taken up solely, by the writing of many letters re commending innumerable young people to the care of friends, friends of friends, relatives and fraternity brothers who are in resi dence at the institutions where these innumerable young people were to matriculate. Having to write such letters is the penalty I must pay for know ing too many people; rather it is the result of having too many peo ple know I know too many people. Yes, every year during the late summer I am preyed upon by friends who have sisters, brothers, cousins entering schools where I have acquaintances. These charge down upon me at all times and in all places and wear down my re sistance with doleful tales of friendless youths and maidens and finally leave me in a pusillanimous mood ready to do their will. PAR example: That Perry girl, Selina, I think, corralled me one day and wondered if I'd mind writing to a mutual friend at And- whistle Hall, with whom she wasn't speaking, (though why that should interfere with writing, I can't see) about her little cousin Judith from Cedar Rapids who was entering and wouldn't know a soul. And then the young lady across the way came over to borrow a rake and to ask if I could possibly find time to write to somebody at Watterford — where she had heard I had prepped — about her little brother Herbie (who even now ought to be a guard and shot-put man, what with his two-hundred eleven pounds and six feet three inches) who wouldn't know a soul there. That's a handicap they all seem to have : none of them knows a soul at his chosen school. Of course there were the usual number of boys at the chapter house who had small sisters going to various boarding schools from which, they remembered, I received letters at times. Uncle Mark put in his request too. His pride and joy, Wilmont (little beast) was going to my dear old college and Uncle Mark wanted him to pledge my fraternity. It would be rather nice, he thought. Uncle Mark has oil wells, ranches and banks in Oklahoma and Wil mont (little cad) would drive his own Isotta, an asset to any chapter, to be sure. I wrote to the house, however, only when I remembered that the front room probably did need a new fire place and that it would be great for the boys to have a shower room in the basement. Then there was that one mistake which rather blotted a nice record. It was about young Ralphie Flet cher, son of that very good friend of Father's who gets him out of jury service. Ralphie's father is a Princeton man and helpless. I was asked to write to the Wisconsin chapter about him; he was going to Wisconsin. I erred and wrote to the Michigan chapter, but I suppose it really didn't matter be cause young Fletcher went to Illi nois after all. But then every one makes mistakes. — D. P. 14 THE CHICAGOAN tfpHE Sardonic Smile" is the X authorized translation from the German of Ludvig Diehl's "Ahasuerus", done by Louise Col lier Wilcox — and if I may judge, splendidly done, It is the story of the romantic life of Heinrich Heine. Though written in the form of a novel, it is really a bi ography, (done in the new fashion set by Lytton Strachey) illumi nated by a skillful psycho-analysis. But Heine has always been a mystery: so Ludvig Diehl's sym pathetic interpretation of this baf fling and inscrutable genius will be welcomed by all fervent admirers of Heine's exquisite poetry, and magnificent prose, and of Heine himself, that glorious and sardonic mixture of Catholic and Jew, Christian and Pagan, French and German, and Classicist and Roman ticist. HEINE suffered from these diverse elements that warred within him. He suffered from the nomadic urge of his Hebrew blood, as it clashed with his German re verence for fatherland and tradi tion. . He suffered from his terri ble need for faith in God, as it. fought in him that cool reason that is the heritage of all children of Israel. He suffered most of all, perhaps, from his outstanding peculiarities — a German sentimen tality and solidity that fell before his French qualities of wit and keen contempt for virtue. Heine was never* at home — when he was with the Jews, he admired the gallant self-sacrifice, the shin ing eye and high heart of the young German, all qualities foreign to the. Jew, who, from centuries and ages of privation and tyranny, has been forced to put practical considera tions above everything else in life. Heine tells in his memoirs of his little friend William, who sacri ficed his own life to rescue a kit ten from the river, while Heine stood impotently on the bank. All his life, he wavered between the admiration of a hoble soul for the noble youth who put even a stray kitten before self arid }>OOKf- always the blood of his race spoke, reminding him that such a thing was foolish and impractical. Altho he admired the Germans when he was with the Jews, he laughed sarcastically at them when he was in closer contact with his heroes. Their reverence for good women was especially foreign to his nature. Indeed, he was as often ostracized for his jeering at German ideals of morality, as he was for his continual intemperance in this direction. Altho he was honored at belonging to a German students' club that made it neces sary for him to take a vow of chas tity, he soon broke his word, and was expelled. In all this welter of contradic tions, there was but one unwaver ing thing in his life. Love, faith and country, these he changed often enough. But suffering was with him always. From the time when, as a child, "the little Jew Harry" was cut. off from the heritage of tradition and the play grounds of his blonde German neighbors, through the days when, penniless and arrogant and self- indulgent, he was entirely friend less, until, famous and generally forgiven, he lay for eight long years of pain, in his little attic above Paris, Heine's body and soul knew little but torture. He loved much and he suffered much, and of him Theophile Gau- tier says 'the sight of his coffin, where the thin body slept more comfortably than in his earthly bed, reminds one involuntarily of this passage from the "Inter mezzo." • "Seek me a bier of solid planks, and wide ; it must be longer than the bridge 'of Mayence;and bring two giants stronger than the vigor ous St. Cristopher on the dome of the Cathedral at Cologne, by the Rhine; they shall take the coffin and throw it into the sea ; so great a coffin demands a great grave. Do you know why the coffin will be so long and so heavy? I shall leave there with my body, my passions and my miseries." IT would, indeed, have needed a deep coffin for all of Heine's loves and sufferings. The last love of his life came when he was quite old, and on his death-bed, — a calm love for the pale creature who inspired him and helped him to work as he lay dying. But for long years he was passionately de voted to the lady who was first his mistress, and then his wife the vivacious Matilda. Poor Mat ilda, and poor Heine ! She was so beautiful, and so, so dumb. She adored him, and managed him, and nearly ruined him. She was con stantly whimsical and consistently inconsistent. She bought a parrot, and hired a negress for a cook, altho Heine could afford neither. She spent his money gaily and ex travagantly. Often he threatened to leave her, but always he came back. Once she begged him to tell her of his beloved Germany. He jested : "In Germany sauerkraut grows on trees, Nonnotte (this was his pet name for her when he wanted to flatter her) and there are great ponds of beer there, where all the people come in the evening to drink, and they drink until they lie drunk on the floor." "Really!" said Matilda earnestly, "That is just the way I thought it was." But finally, after these years of misery, Heine slowly found faith. The wandering Jew, the Eternal Ahasuerus, found comfort in read ing Paul, who, until he was an old man, had been a constant wanderer and searcher after knowledge, but who discovered at last that the only knowledge was that one could not fathom the divine nature. And so, famous, almost happy, having completed the work that makes him so beloved of the German peo ple, Heine died, in his little attic in Montmartre, above the spires and house-tops of Paris -this perplexing "enfant de Faust et de la belle Helene." —LILLIAN ROCHE GALPIN THE CHICAGOAN 15 A MERE young gentleman of the university is still all that John Earle said he was and being that is indubitably a happy avoca tion which has many splendid ad vantages. Yes, indeed ! There is, however, that dreadful handicap which takes away a bit of the joy of the autumn term, — namely the ability, the spirit-blighting ability, to secure tickets to the football games. It wouldn't surprise me in the least if I already had some one hundred twelve requests for tick ets. And the inducements the de sirous ones do offer ! My, my, they are simply astounding! It is hard to make eliminations and diminish the list in order to do the ultimate selecting, so attractive are the offers and proffers. There is Uncle Byron Butter- worth who has offered me the vice- presidency of his Butterworth Bobsled Company when I finish school if I will fix him up with tickets. A fraternity brother from the west coast who met me at the last convention lays at my feet Frank Harris' "Memoirs" in two vol umes, Zola, unexpurgated, six tele phone numbers that are whams and introductions to a couple of co-eds from Northwestern who have a roadster and an apartment. Father's junior partner has a 1924 Marmon, a sea-going steam yacht and a lot of influence that he will trade for tickets to only six games. Father himself expects two tickets for each game. "Why," he asks, "do you think I am sending you to college anyway ?" Of course I shall take care of Father, espec ially when I recall that he posted cheques to three clothiers who had been trying to correspond with me as soon as he received his tickets last fall. And then The Reverend Dr. Garrish, our kind old minister, wants tickets too. He called one afternoon late in the summer and The Autumn Plague said he'd like a bit of a talk with me. Well, you may be sure I thought I was in for it ! But all he did was offer me a card which identified me as a member in good standing of that honorable body, the Commission for the Inspection and Suppression of Metropolitan Vices. "It might come in handy sometime, you know," Dr. Garrish wrhispered sapiently. "One never can tell about raids, now can one? And my boy, I understand you are going to have a great team this fall. My, my, how I love a good football game. Nothing quite like it, now is there? Heh, heh !" I REALLY can't overlook the very young Mrs. Overthorpe who wants tickets for all the games. As she says, her husband, the late Twitchell M., used to get tickets always, being an alumnus but now what is she to do? And she does so enjoy football. She has told me repeatedly that I might take her to several games myself, if I cared to. I cannot reach a so lution to the question : has she de signs on me or does she just want to see the games? Without doubt the most interest ing and most lucrative proposition with wrhich I have been confronted has come from "Handy" Jerry Carrigan who called on me most informally one night during the latter part of the summer. From behind his dark-lantern he introduced himself. He had heard me talking football with some classmates down at Joe Duffy's one night. (And I promised Father not to go there anymore). And, well, could I get him some tickets for the big game? Even one? Huh? He'd sure appreciate it. And say, he was sort of connected with some guys who ran in a lot of mighty good stuff. He might be able to hook some ; anyway he could always get it at a big knockdown. He'd re member me all right. And if I ever needed any polishing-off done, or maybe taking-for-a-ride. . . Well ! His name was Carrigan, — "Handy" Jerry! I told him I was quite cer tain ' I could get him tickets. He was very grateful and left and I was very grateful. —DONALD PLANT 16 THE CHICAGOAN MU/ICAL NOTE/ ATTENDED by brilliant ad vertisement and the loud fan fare of press agents the opera season began. Began, too, a dig nified concert series by the Gordon String Quartet within the stately confines of the Field Museum. Melchior and Cortot, two very contrasting musicians, inaugurated Miss Kinsolving's ambitious eve ning course. And the symphony, too, since our last issue, cut its first wide sv/ath with the production of Mr. John Alden Carpenter's ballet "Skyscrapers." Of some of these events a separate word of consider ation. THE Chicago Civic Opera has opened what promises to be at least as satisfactory a season as any in the past. The chief novelty to be laid upon the platter of a public, under public utility man agement, grown ravenous for this particular and peculiar form of en tertainment is the "Judith" of Honegger whose "Le Roi David" was presented last year in New York. Honegger still connects himself nominally with The Six, that group of French composers fathered and fostered by Erik Satie, the first illustrious musical comedian. Rather an alien to the strictly absurd artistic canons of his colleagues by reason of his strong leanings toward the Ger manic traditions of the music- drama, Honegger has achieved a mundane commercial and popular success that must be highly offen sive to his more radical brethren. Whether he writes well for the operatic stage and whether "Jud ith" will be an additional portrait in Mary's picture gallery is a mat ter for the future to tell. Although we did not attend the opening, "Aida," with a suffici ently lustrous cast, the general critical opinion was favorable. We recall another opening performance some two or three years ago, Chaliapin in Boris Goudonov with Polacco at the desk. The combina tion promised to be irresistible. One of the most superb of the music-dramas, the greatest sing ing actor in the world and at least a capable conductor. The occasion was an immense flivver. The principals occupied themselves with terrific squabbling between curtains. The audience praised with faint damns by the chilliest of response. Polacco himself seemed bored with the long waits between tableaux and never managed to call up from the orchestra the vigor that the score demands. It was a memorable musical disappoint ment. THE audience at the second concert of the Gordon String Quartet was of large proportions and undeniably enthusiastic. And rightly so, for it was privileged to hear some of the finest ensemble playing on record in this city. The musicianship of Mr. Gordon is con summate. He has ambitiously charted the eighteen Beethoven quartets for presentation at the Simpson Theatre and each program offers a sample of at least two or three stages in the musical growth of the master. The quartets of opera 127, 130 and 131 are revel atory of a Beethoven not to be found in the symphonies or in the piano sonates. Here we discover hints of Brahms, of Wagner, and, as in the second movement of Opus 130, what Mozart would have been had he extended his earthly divin ity another hundred years. Stone deaf, poor and diseased, the master of Bonn feels his way recklessly into the future, never violating his own artistic standards, yet scoring for four puny instruments with an epicene originality. The readings were well nigh per fect. Mr. Gordon guided with steady hand, but he never intruded. Tempi, phrasing dynamics, all were THE CHICAGOAN 17 ^uctf right. By the end of the season the Beethoven audience will have be come a crowd of worshippers and the atmosphere of the museum theatre that of a cathedral. SANDWICHED in between a Bach Suite and the Brahms Second Symphony, the Carpenter Ballet "Skyscrapers" made its Chi cago debut on the afternoon of November fifth. Like much of Stravinski it needed the seduction of dancer and decor to be com pletely successful. Minus them it became a moderately interesting study in jazz tune and rhythm giv ing a total effect not so interesting as either "Krazy Kat" or the "Per ambulator" suite. Heretofore the humor of Carpenter has been a matter of light strokes and passing whimsies. "Skyscrapers" is so heavily scored that this effect is missing and the general impression is of something cumbersome and without contour. Then, too, the piece has that fault so characteris tic of much modern music. What it considers rhythm is largely meter. There are only inconsider ate rhythmical patterns within the savage limitations of the jazz beat. But even these are not realized the way Carpenter has realized them in the past. pointed time. After he had opened the festivities with a resounding interpretation of the Symphonic Etudes of Chopin he retired in favor of Sophie Braslau, who was, presumably, to share the honors of the evening with him. The opul ent brunette made no appearance, however, and pinch-hitting was one Lauritz Melchior, a tenor and one of the Wagnerian mainstays of the Metropolitan grand opera company. This tall and portly gentleman sang songs of the far north, arias from several operas, including the Liebeslied Weingart- ner from Die Walkure, and various lieder of Strauss and Greig. He appeared to be at his best in the heroic clippings from the score of the opera. For lieder he had not the requisite subtlety or intelli gence and the task of creating a mystic mood, as in the illustrious "The Swan" of Greig was just too much for him. It is difficult, however, to be fair to anyone sharing a program with Cortot. For that man seems not of this world at all and to measure a plainly capable concert artist against him is a waste of time. Cortot is so much more than a pianist. He is a superb technician to begin with, given sometimes to an occasional false note that is more ingratiating than the perfection of, say, Hoffman. But more than any thing else he is a poet, the com poser's ideal of what an interpreter should be. He allows nothing of dis tracting gesture or mannerism to himself, but brings humbly to the inspiration of Chopin or Debussy the services of a superb imagination and a well-nigh faultless equip ment. Some pianists, Rosenthal for instance, are as ignorant as the traditional notion of an Italian tenor. They see the art of a com poser like Chopin as a means to display glittering tricks of arpeggi, passage-work or pedalling. Not so Cortot. He is radiant with the true humility of a master. -ROBERT POLLAK Julia: A Maidservant To her employer she was just a darky maid, A handsome, furtive lazy thing, impudent, With exquisite black skin like silk stretched Over supple African bones. But she was a harlot who played her game with skill, She had brains, And she had a banking account and clothes, Not gaudy, not negroid. She was clever. THE first Kinsolving Concert found Alfred Cortot, to me the world's finest pianist, on the stage at Orchestra Hall at the ap- And when I spoke to her of her lovers, She said quite simply "They are street cars, When one goes, another comes" -LILLIAN MACDONALD THE CHICAGOAN One Queenie Smith Looking for a Boy- One might assume she will have little trouble finding one THE CHICAGOAN 19 <7he TUtATRE Tip-Toes ACCEPTING Tip Toes as a musical comedy and judging it as such — remembering that musical comedies are approximate ly as progressive (though hardly so' unplastic) as ladies' aid socie ties, it is only just to say that it is a fine show. I do not say that be- grudgingly (theatrical producers please rise), for, as a matter of fact, I found it an exceptionally good musical comedy. About the music there can be little controversy ;. it is, certainly, competent, although, perhaps, faint ly reminiscent of No, No Nanette. This is more noticeable if one re calls (and he probably shall) Tea for Two while listening to I'm Looking for a Boy. Miss Queenie Smith, however, is not quite — well, not quite so dis arming as she might be, and were it not fon the fact that her leading man, one Richard Keene, did more than his share to smooth over one or two rather floppy parts, the play — that is, toward the end, particu larly — might have lagged consider ably. But it didn't, and that is all that is necessary. And everyone left the theatre whistling:. MR. KEENE <is a relief from the usual musical comedy man. There is about him a certain campus (and not the theatrical campus either) touch which makes him the most enjoyable person in the cast. Why he even dances as one might expect a young man to dance with a woman, and not with the caponic dignity which charac terizes the ball room antics of most musical comedy leading men. Miss Smith, it seems, is too defi nitely stemmed from the provincial school of Mitzi whose attempts to portray the pigeon toed-talking through the nose school girl have given her throughout the inhibition belt a reputation of no little mat ter; consequently, at least in Chi cago, because of this resemblance, Miss Smith does not inspire any unorthodox amount of admiration. She does, possibly, sing better than her model, and, so far as musical comedies go, she prob ably is a competent leading wo man, even if one did expect that at any minute she would be carried away on the shoulders of the male chorus (again remembering Mitzi) while the women of the cast sprinkled pansy and chrysanthe mum petals over her. But, once again, that didn't happen, and you will probably like the show. Tip Toes, making an attempt to please all classes, has not over looked the once a year theatre goers and, for their amusement, present two comedians who spurt a series of naughty ninety jokes; but one is not to assume — that is, those other than the once-a-year crowd — that anything they do or say is to be taken comically. THE dancing, both chorus and specialty, is very fine, and Miss Humphries and Miss Mac- donald do a great deal to add gaiety to the play. So — With the fnusic, the dancing, the effervesence, Miss Smith (but I do wish she didn't remind me of Mitzi) and Mr. Keene, Tip Toes, again remembering that it is, after all, a musical comedy, affords a very pleasant evening. LEMAIRE'S Affairs will leave town in a few weeks, and everyone is curious to know how the discriminating east will receive it. About Boston there is no ques tion; it takes no great amount of study to determine how that great inhibited city will greet this smart offering; but New York is a differ ent matter. If it is judged on the revue itself and not on the fact, that it did not make its metropolitan showing in Gothani, LeMaire's Affairs will, doubtles, have a com petent run. Bubbling Over, after an hesteri- cally insecure run in Chicago, has left town. The play had very little to offer that was new arid very little of the old that was interest ing. First Love, which played at the Selwyn prior to Bubbling Over, enjoyed approximately as long a run as its successor, and, conse quently, left town with a grand — if rather forced— gesture. — POLONIUS 20 THE CHICAGOAN /PORT/ R&VIEW THE football season is coming to a close, some of the schools had good teams and some didn't, the grandstands were as gay, if not gayer, than they were in past seasons, and one or two of the schools in the conference, at least, are satisfied. Mr. Yost, as usual, has done enough good work to preclude the possibility of many teams singing songs about not giving a damn for sand hills of Michigan — that is singing the song with any degree of security or justification. AND Northwestern has certain ly thrown its tea and lemon to the winds and has set a grand surprise for many. In the begin ning of the season The Chicagoan predicted an alarming career for the 1926 Purple football team and, to date as least, that prediction was no mere philological twisting of words. The recent Chicago game proved, beyond question, that Northwestern is powerful; for everyone expected Chicago to stage a powerful comeback to prove that, so far as the Midway is concerned, Northwestern is still in the pink tea strata of football. Unfortunate ly for Mr. Stagg and his men, how ever, decisions of that kind require taking into consideration the op posing team as well as your own. The recent pump, pump pull- away game at Madison did little to prove which of the two schools — Wisconsin or Iowa — had the worse team. Whichever team had the ball kept it until a touchdown was made or a goal kicked ; neither outfit seemed to understand that the object of defensive football is to stop the opposing team from making ten yards in four downs. The Wisconsin eleven amazed the entire grandstand as well as their coach by a curiously effective pass ing game. After the recent demon stration of the Rose (of Wisconsin) to Oosterbaan (of Michigan) com bination everyone in the stands was relieved to know that the coach had finally instructed his team as to the real purpose of for ward passes. SO far as footbal and its phychob ogy is concerned, Notre Dame can, stand on its feet and tell every one to go, as Mr. Butler says, the way of all flesh. Money is flowing at South Bend these days. Every cent on the campus goes with the team — and, needless to add, comes back with it. There's something completely unorthodox about the consistency of that squad. Person ally, I think that much of the suc cess of Notre Dame is due to the sublime faith and enthusiasm of the campus. Notre Dame has won too many games to become cocky; they wear their laurels with dig nity. Theirs is a sound, regular enthusiasm — not the momentary screeches of most of the conference schools whose followers are more interested in the sorority tea which follows the game than in the final outcome of the contest. And no matter what school you are back ing, I heartily recommend that, for once at least, (provided you can keep your head and not let your school spirit run away with your sense of humor or your financial awareness) you sit on the Notre Dame side. It's worth the price, even if your team does lose. A bunch of wise-cracking Irishmen, with a journalistic disregard for facts, telling what happened last week or what is going to happen next — to say nothing about what should happen. AND where is Illinois? Can anyone answer that question? Their record has by no means been shameful, and still no one ever hears anything about them. All of THE CHICAGOAN 21 which goes to prove that teams are judged solely on what they do now — not what they have done in the past. EVERYONE, of course, has had a big laugh over the Harvard- Princeton combination. A Michi gan-Harvard game would be im mensely interesting — particularly if Michigan has as good a team next year as they have this. The Joys of Noise hang the tomcats on the line OUTSIDE of football there is, in the world of sports, very little doing. Polo at the Riding Club deserves a word, perhaps. Whether or not the endeavor is worthy of much consideration is conjectural, but, at least, it will serve as an excellent — and harm less — diversion for many tired busi ness men who find their offices stuffy and their appetites failing. There is much talk about pro fessional hockey. There is no reason why hockey should not be more popular. It offers approxi mately as good an opportunity to show off new clothing as a football grandstand — possibly better. BUT, to get back to football, if the army beats the navy here, Notre Dame will, unless they lose a game in the meantime, certainly, be able to lay claims to a national championship — unless the Santa Claus game at California throws a monkey wrench in the machinery. I almost forgot the six day bi cycle race. I'm forced to admit not only an inferior understanding but a complete disinterest in six day bicycle races, cross country races, going over Niagara falls in a bar rel, and swimming the English Channel. There is, however, a man who has been known to state that he found the event very interest ing. —XERXES IT has become a fetish with cer tain mistaken persons to de mand perpetual quietness in their lives. They cannot discriminate between the charming laughter of children, the clang of axes in woods in autumn, and the needless hoot ing of motor trucks in city streets. To banish noise is to banish a factor in development. Great souled people play boisterously. Imagine the laughter of the gods; surely it was not a surreptitious giggle be hind a minute handkerchief or the subdued chuckle of one who has just bested a deluded friend in a business deal. The laughter of Valhalla was of a truth second only to the hammer of Thor which we today enjoy (those of us who are wise) in the crashing of summer thunder. And then, again, how delightful are the rapidly vanishing street cries. Those of us who know our London appreciate the lavender vendor who has quite an ornate little tune, a ditty carried on down the years and until lately un written. Here, happily, the itiner ant tinker plies a merry bell, and our knives and scissors are sharp ened to a musical accompaniment. It were ill advised to make away w-ith these pleasant variants to the established gloom of city life. PERSONALLY, while I have no wish to see youngsters de prived of eye or finger, I deplore the firecracker of yesteryear. It seems that some way might be found to place these delightful cheer makers in the hands of the elders who would guarantee suffi cient noise to please the small per son, yet guard his safety. Don't you think so? Firecrackers have especial quali ties of pleasure giving in that they fill so many needs. For instance, the delight of seeing a rather prim person jump in mid air. What an exquisite joy. Their explosion is so sudden, their report so bomb like, their flippancy so unexpected. I am convinced every healthy minded person regrets their pass ing, and further I predict that to the man who invents a firecracker that cannot hurt the thrower will come not only fortune, but the thanks of thousands deprived of a legitimate form of mischief ap proved, I am also convinced, of Puck and all such who preside over the frivolous side of human frailty. TO those who love rhythms and read into them that rougher music existent outside of orches tras, there is a distinct charm in the rivetting of ferro-concrete buildings. Deep notes they strike and insistent, a very Rodin con ception in sound, something akin to that music of the spheres which accompanied, perhaps, the welding of mountain and of rock. And natural folks love noisy music. Why has a military band such a charm for the majority? Because it flames with a great noise. Wagner knew how to in troduce noise, — using it, as indeed it is, as a part of the psychological presentment of human experience, and shaping it to explain passions, be it of love, of hate, of war. To exclude noise from our world is to exclude nature's own safety valve. Let the rabbit-minded hide away if they will. But let the great hearted and finer type enjoy its superb exhilaration. A shock is a stimulant to fresh endeavor ; it prevents stagnation. To shun shocks is to shun a new experi ence. A crash of lightning is as a splash of scarlet on the grey paper 22 THE CHICAGOAN of a dim life. Violent winds blow away miasma and inspire a larger fighting space. The greatest things in the world have not been done to muted violins, but to the clanging of mighty bells and the banging of great drums. Let us accept noise as the mighty factor it is in the growth alike of men and of cities, and delight in playing such noisy games and frolicsome tricks as may be left us, and make our several festivals as full of mighty sounds as maybe, for, after all, are we not pagans at heart, and are not our days set apart but replicas of an earlier (and perhaps a gladder) time when less restrictions bound our jollity? Then each man was allowed and encouraged his large share of sound and all noise mingling made man glad. — PETRUS HENDRICK Diary of a Pedestrian Monday — Was crossing inside pedestrian lines today with wife and three children. They only got one child. Tuesday — Knocked down in a safety zone this evening. Wednesday — Wife winged in de partment store this morning. Driver lost control and car came through plate glass window to stocking counter. Thursday — Tried to cross with remaining two children today. Saved one child and lost one. Friday — Wife able to be out this morning, but they got her at noon. Saturday — They got the last child today. Sunday — Tried to dodge a run about today, and a tourer got me. Doctor summoned, but said it was an error, and to notify undertaker. —WILLIAM SANFORD The Divine Oversight What a tale great Homer might have spun If God had made soap when there was none. Eve could have laughed at all her troubles Eating apples and blowing bubbles. — MARJORIE /"MART RENDEZVOUJ THE night clubs are with us. The symphonies have started, the opera is on and the night clubs are flourishing — at least they ap pear to be. What if everybody is ordering gingerale? The night clubs have, in their own way, met that situation with precision and consciouslessness — I did not say unconsciousness. Baloons THE Baloon Room in the Con gress has done considerable to carry out the idea of its name, and if you have planned an even ing of quiet enjoyment without too much carousing, we heartily recommend the Baloon Room. If your party intends to celebrate birthdays or election returns, try something less bubbly. Their is a certain uncertainty about the Ba loon Room which would not go too well with overcelebration and pro hibition liquor — lights whirling around, a lighted floor, and a cer tain weirdness about the walls. You get the point. But the service is, indeed, adequate and the music (about that we are certain), is de lightful and, fortunately, soft. In a phrase, to tell who goes there is difficult, for, no doubt, the crowd changes with the days; but on a certain night last week the room was filled with a fine repre sentation of all the ex-college men in the district — Wisconsin, North western, Chicago, Illinois and Mi chigan topping the list. And there was, of course, the usual run of night club men who sit on the edges of their chairs waiting for the entertainment. Fortunately, there is none, so you won't be bored listening to some henna haired woman singing about her half baked daddy who took her to the circus Monday night. Bells BAL TABARIN is something different, although the crowd is very much the same. I was so amazed by the epileptic manne- kins along the walls that I must admit I neglected to notice par ticularly the guests, but, as I re member them, they were very much the same crowd as follow the Baloon Room. Everyone, of course, has been to the Bal so it is useless to go into detail regarding the dec oration. The mannekins in the wall, as stated before, are particu larly curious. Jack Chapman furnishes the music and does a very fine job of it. Mr. Chapman has an excep tional aptitude for playing the se lection the dancers are waiting for. And if he does play an occasional wraltz — well, they paid their money as well as you did, didn't they? He tries to please them all. The appointments are excellent and you are not met at the door with a man behind a gun demand ing a cover charge paid in advance. —THE HEDONIST THE CHICAGOAN 23 The Lone Dime. The Cinema Plasticity of Mood Expression from Desperation to Satisfaction and back to Desperation — is to be noted. 24 THE CHICAGOAN And Did You Say Late Hours? ask the milkman he knows THOSE who have never tried it cannot possibly imagine how gay and profitable it is to be gin the day just as those more con servative are preparing for bed. To have sufficient strength of purpose to resist the efforts of the insistent sun and the thousand disturbing elements that go to make up the working day is in itself a measure of mental endur ance. To omit breakfast and partake of a copious but nondescript meal that yet leaves one with an ample appetite for both an elaborated dinner and a choicely conceived supper requires what is almost akin to genius. To descend ur bane stairs with a smile that is expectant of an excellent night is the mark of one who has amply learned that the hours are merely conventionally allotted and emi nently adjustable. THEY tell me that the early hours of the night, say from ten until midnight, are abundant in literary inspiration. Then it is that the plot which has eluded one by day shapes itself into something like a formula; then it is that the escaping word may be ensnared. After midnight — and the needful supper, be it understood — comes the time of reminiscence, the time when all lovely things and all bizarre things that have ever entered consciousness take definite place in a design that may ulti mately be worth a more or less permanent recording. And about the night lurks al ways the spirit of a rare jest. Is it not the time when the light word is flung and tossed back in a liques cent repartee? Is it not pre-emi nently the time for entering into fluctuating engagements, love con tracts, absurd arrangements, what you will. I know of a man who became engaged to three person able (fairly, that is) young wo men, with nothing stronger than a July moon and the mildest brew of punch to instigate his rash act. I understand he endeavored to commit suicide in a pool about the time of the harvest moon, and that the most stalwart of the three fished him out, and only the fact that a passing freight train offered escape prevented what might have been a most romantic, not to say tragic, denouement. So the night has dangers, and not only for bootleggers. One is certain that it leads to writing a little and dreaming a great deal. Every man is happily a severe critic of his own material when he writes at night. He is face to face with his literary twist, and the soul has quite a meritorious cri terion; the silence holds him down. He cannot read into his manu script the laudations suggested by the clamor of the day's traffic. He is alone with whatever of inspira tion may be his. SO, you see, it is a wise thing to weigh nightly values, avoid ing all women, most moons, and anything that is not pre-war on affidavit. All these things being done, one may sit in peace, with pen, pencil or his necessary type writer. Then the room will gradually fill with the characters one asks. Charmingly they will take their places, gracious ghosts of a time in fictionland that is still to be. They will talk as never they talk by day. They will become real as never can they be real while the obtrusive objective of daytime holds the field. And while the rain may give the glissade of a dancing floor to sor did streets, and the lights hold carnival before distorted gray houses, one's windows contribute nothing to mar the feast of beauty spread on virgin paper. To sit up late, to know the be ginnings of a new day, too shy as yet for color, and to watch reel ing revelers is to realize what it is to be alone in the world, a glorious feeling. One senses triumph, even if his work has not measured up to the glory of the inspiration, some thing, by the way, that it may never do. Yet he has solitude, in itself precious and unattainable by day. He has known the hidden hours, the eerie places where for gotten dreams lurk for the wary to attract, the waste shrines where old dispensations hold holiday. It is therefore among the es pecial privileges of the esoteric seeker among literary fastnesses to forego the orchestrated hours of the working day, and draping his person in the twilight, (and what soever of gracious robes he may see fit to wear for his nightly vigil) to await with proper and becoming humility that visit from what the writers of the days of old Bacardi called his Muse and what one now knows to be a peculiar combina tion of astuteness of spiritual vis ion and aptness in verbal present ment. —LILLIAN MACDONALD R. S. V. P. Ma petite Celeste, Pauvre petite Celeste You feel lonely . . . What they call? . . . bleu; Non, non, only the sky is . . . bleu Et vous et moi . . . Oui, I come over ce soir, I onnerstand I, too, could kees .... if I had you. — E. GROSSFELD THE CHICAGOAN 25 BOULEVARD I ER IT appears that long hair and dark hosiery are perennial agi tations, for as each autumn is ushered in there is a persistent rumor of the advent of both of these reactionary styles. This year Irene Castle McLaughlin did the honors for black hosiery. The instant her black clad limb made contact with the gang plank there was an up roar. Celebrity mockers hurried to buy black hose, fashion editors foretold the impending demise of flesh tint legs and the rush started. We just had to have black or gun metal. And all the time the canny keepers of hosiery shops put their tongues in their cheeks and sold black hose to the enthusiastic pop ulace. There was, and is, just a gleam of real humor escaping from their highly controlled professional calm, for they know us so well. They well know that after the ini tial fury of the fad has spent itself there will be a settling back into the old ways. The ladies, it ap pears, love their light legs. FOR much the same reason, I dare say, the barbers remain undisturbed through all the rumors emanating or proporting to eman ate from Paris — particularly from Antoine's establishment. Antoine must be perpetually busy with his oracular babblings if even a third of the reports of "Antoine says there will be no more bobbed hair two years from now" or "Antoine says that more and more of the smart women are cutting their hair" are authentic. He seems to sit on the fence and cheer for both sides. Now can it be that he is fooling us? Curiously enough, and disturb ingly so for that sort of person who is in an uproar of indecision until she knows just what the mentors of fashion say, the upshot of the crisis has been, for several years, much the same. Some of the dictators have long hair and some short, some wear dark hose and some wear none. At least the agitation stands off style boredom, and how amusing it is to that fortunate minority — the people with a sense of humor. THERE have been so many witticisms perpetrated at the expense of the pony and calf skin coats that I shall heroically refrain from any attempt at bon mots con cerning this particular excentricity of fur fashion. Suffice it to say that almost every smart collection of street coats includes black and white, tan and white or tan calf skin. The Blackstone Shop has an at tractive window display of fur coats, all tailored and very smart — one of Baron due, one of calf and another of leopard. The leopard coat has a long shawl collar and fastens with leopard ties. With these fur coats is a plush one, chic of line and having a yellowish green collar of kasha cloth. But somehow I just fail to rise to plush; it shrieks too much of ju venile toy bears. In Blum's window there is an outstandingly smart close bat of brown and white calf. It is far from scant of crown, but there is «* decent subtlety about it; it does not advertise unnecessarily. Blum's also have a good looking display of overnight cases. They are in almost every shade of leather and several sizes, but they agree in the allurement of their fittings. It is to travel with such luggage. Rena Hartman is showing some extremely attractive scarfs from Callot Soeurs. They are of a re markably soft quality of gold or silver brocade on a ground of white satin, and are dependent for their charm upon their utter sim plicity and the graceful folds in which they lie on the weary should ers. It is a welcome change from the rather overdone shawl idea — some of the disgustingly cheap modern copies might more proper ly be called under-done. IN Perlie Powell's there are some of those highly satisfactory gowns for evening wear — the sort that are bound to look smart be cause their straight lines are be coming to average figures. Do not mistake my meaning; they are not hold-overs. Even if they were the rhinestone and pearl embroidery on 26 THE CHICAGOAN You would do well to avail yourself of our service Phone us — at any time — We will be glad to send you a selection of books for your choice .... Our number is Superior 2601 and we are open until Midnight every day — including Sundays .... "Books for the Sophisticate" Open Until Midnight % BOREAS BOOKSTO R E 109 EAST CHICAGO AVE, The Resort of Fashion and the Epicure 18 W. Walton Place Opera Club Building For Reservations Phone Delaware 2592 Luncheon Dinner them would be lovely enough to justify their existence. Green is persistent in its popu larity and each succeeding shade of it seems lovelier than the last. When the soft Italian greens were so dominant in the clothes color world, we shied at the brighter shades for anything but distinctly sport wear. And the most violently active sports wear too. Now with the coming of greater brilliancy and depth of color, those same soft greens which so intrigued us seem a bit sick. ^phiiRE is a two-piece day time | frock in McAvoy's window, however, that is of one of the new shades of green. There is sufficient intensity in this new green to give it character and potency. The skirt has grouped pleats which are dis tinctly French in the way the line is broken. With it is a green mix ture sports coat, fur trimmed and lined in bright green. Hodge, who used to be down town and is now in the big, sturdy Allerton, has one of the most effec tive millinery windows I ever have seen. Only one hat is displayed, but the passerby remembers very pleasantly and very distinctly that one. The other day it was a green felt with a black satin, turned-up rim. JUST as one has become thor oughly infused with the gay, in souciant enthusiasm of more and smarter clothes, up pop the inter esting specialty shops in other lines. The little shop called "Paris Chez Vous," on Chicago Avenue near Michigan Boulevard, is a friendly, informal place with an unusual collection of imported gifts. They are fascinating at any season, but particularly so right now with Thanksgiving almost here and Christmas right around the corner. And the French Christ mas cards are quite irresistible — very gay and very modern. There are some striking conventionalized Ye Olde Haylofte for reservations Phone Greenleaf 140 616 GROVE STREET CORNER OF SHERMAN EVANSTON, ILL. The only place of its kind in America Good Music Unusual Food Different Surroundings - Special Attention Given to Private Parties — Clubs, etc. Under the direction of Frint George Beauty and Utility THE large measure of beauty and utility afforded by artistic lighting fixtures, tables, flower stands, chairs and floorlamps is far out of proportion to their moderate cost. If you will call at the Crafts man Shop we will show you how happily beauty and utility are com bined in our hand wrought fixtures and metal furniture pieces. Our distinctive fixtures are hand forged in our own shops by artis ans who take pride in reproducing and creating the best of designs. MASTERS of the METAL ART 152 East Erie Street DESIGNERS AND MANUFACTURERS THE CHICAGOAN 27 designs for the people whose taste and personality do not admit of modernity or gaiety to the extent of a red Russian Santa Claus on a pink ground. But they are all smart — that is, the cards are. Holmes' decorating establish ment always shows an interesting display of antiques with particular emphasis on the more refined types such as Chippendale, Sheraton and Queen Ann. There is an especially fine pair of large gold leaf mirrors of the broken pediment type. The new water bottle lamps shown at Tobey's and some other shops are fascinating. They are large, bulging bottles with or without handles in white or green with flaring, pleated shades of colored linen or taffeta. One of the shades is called sunshine yellow, and it is just that. When the bot tles are filled they have a peculiar lense quality which gives the im pression of a huge, solid crystal. They are especially suitable to a very informal chintzie living room, sun room or country house. OH yes, and if it's a bag you'll be needing or a frame you would like to keep if you could just find a good place to have it re covered — and who of the ladies hasn't moaned at the thought of discarding a fair mounting just be cause bag fabrics, being less dur able than concrete or cast iron, will wear out — you are going to be no end pleased that Leonard Moise has a shop on North Michigan. The French have a perfect and in born concept of working to a cus tomer's order. They take for granted the especial making of everything from lingerie to tea towels. I often wonder if their silk hose are made to measure. But, putting aside all flippancy, it is just that disregard of the bought-by- the-gross idea that secures the in- effible something in French toi lettes. When, if ever, Americans learn to buy what is suitable to their particular individualities in stead of what their next door (> v.,„»** I • \ *•?••••*" «" • '; **••••••* / • \ "•••••••* / • \ *•••«•••" i • \ *••...••* / • \ •••..•}•(> Bags Novelties ••~. "•»• Smoking Accessories Costume Jewelry ••••• PARIS- CHEZ -VOUS IMPORTER— COMMISSIONER HELEN HAFFENBERG in EAST CHICAGO AVENUE NEW cnEAIBO^OFlME Joi^S i/ieoel- Studio^ 6o5W.WA^)lH)OW<Diir(0)W $£ 1 HAND DECORATED WASTE BASKETS BOOK ENDS ETC SOLDATCHICAGOS EXCLUSIVE OIFT SHOPS INCLU DING MARSHALL FIELD *,CO. - CARSON P1PJE SCOTT and CO. THE ORIENT SHOPS LTD,- THE EDGEWATER B.H.GIFT SHOP. 28 THE CHICAGOAN IPECIAL r jESPONSIVE to a widespread and insistent demand among music lovers who cannot de vote a fixed day each week to Grand Opera, a plan has been devised whereby absolute and unqualified first choice of seats for all non-sub scription performances is offered with the privilege of selecting from the field the performances of your choice. A special Non-Subscription Performance Season Preferred Script Book gives these advantages, with the additional one of price concessions. These books are sold at two prices — $68.50 and $34.25; their face value is $72.00 and $36.00, respec tively. The script coupons are exchangeable at face value for seats at any price for any performance not included in the Subscription Series. The tentative schedule of thirty-one performances affords an average of two and a half performances each week from which to make a choice. Performances to be given Friday and Saturday evenings, Sunday, and possibly upon Wed nesday afternoons. First choice of seat locations is assured through the fact that these tickets are honored twenty-four hours before the public sale opens. For details call at the new Subscription Office, Wabash Avenue Entrance of Auditorium Theatre (433 S. Wabash Avenue), or write or 'phone for a representative to call on you. CHICAGO CIVIC OPERA COMPANY AUDITORIUM THEATRE Wabash Avenue at Congress Street Telephone: Harrison 1242 THE DISTINCTIVE GIFT WITH A PERSONAL TOUCH DRAKE. CAMERA PORTRAITS DRArxE HOTEL "SOCIETY'S OrriClAL PHOTOGRAPHER' neighbors consider the "latest thing" (Adam should have shot Eve the first time she used the phrase) — on that fine day someone can put a large check beside the word "progress". But aside from the usual early winter activity along the boule vards there appears already a holi day nervousness. Some of the stores are showing inclinations toward the greens and reds of Christmas, and it won't be long now. Everyone will soon be loaded with packages and the Salvation Army will be on the corners. Until then, however, we shall content ourselves with November and its offerings. — K. HULLINGER The Opera Qylub may be obtained, with or with out cuisine service, on after noons or evenings, for Private Dances, Teas and Banquets, with the exception of Wednes day and Saturday Nights. By reason of its ten years of service to many of Chicago's Smartest Social Functions the Opera Club is the accepted place for affairs necessitating excellence of service and ap pointments. 18 West Walton Place Tel. Superior 6907 THE CHICAGOAN 29 Catalogues Booklets Publications Commercial Stationery M. P. Levine Printing Company Incorporated 161 W. Harrison St. Telephone Harrison 8765 Chicago Price Service Quality Day and Night Quotations Liquor Per Case Scotch — Johnny Walker (Black Label). $110 Johnny Walker (Red Label).. 100 Sandy Mac (Old Particular).. 100 Teacher's Highland Cream.... 100 Catto's Gold l!abel 100 Bourbon — American reg $150 Canadian Old Judge 115 Old Crow 115 Corbey's Rye 100 American Export Booth's Old Tom .$ 95 Booth's High & Dry 95 Rum — Bacardi $110 Charleston 110 Jamaica 110 Miscellaneous — *** Hennessy $115 Benedictine 125 Martini & Rossi Vermouth 95 Noilly Prat Vermouth 95 Apricot Brandy 126 Creme de Coca 125 Curacoa 125 Champagne (Piper Heidsick '14) '. 125 Absinthe 185 First Editions DRAKE'S timely and aristo cratic catalogue of rare first editions gives the following quota tions : "Almayer's Folly" by Con-, rad, $150; "Unprofessional Tales" by Norman Douglas, $100; "Joce- lyn" by John Galsworthy, $100; "A Shropshire Lad" by Housman, $300; "The Virginians" by Thack eray, $100. The Biblio reports from its statistics that the demand for first editions for the two months ending May fifteenth was as follows: Stephen Crane leads with 22, Dreiser, 17; Poe, 14; Cabell, 14; Whitman, 12; Mencken, 12; Kip ling, 11; Melville, 11, Morley, 10; Cooper, 9; Sandburg, Hearn, Sal- tus, Twain, Harte, and Roosevelt each 8; Irving, Sherwood Ander son, Huneker each 7; McFee, Hawthorne, Chambers, Cather, and Dickens each 6. CHICAGOAN And What is Quality With an accurate knowledge of the charac ter of our readers we formulate an analytical definition of quality as applied to THE CHI CAGOAN. Quality readers are in dividuals privileged by wealth and position or an inherent something who, because of advan tages, have cultivated tastes and desires be yond the horizon of those less gifted. The acute regard for a metropolis is cherished to the great est degree by those whom the city has favored with this wealth and position. Quality circulation is circulation among these dictatorial individuals as an exclusive body. Quality of editorial content is a result of di recting the editorial pol icies toward the tastes of these people who com prise the social and in tellectual aristocracy of Chicago. It is for the advertiser to remember that in the merchandising of quality products these person ages are a sovereign power, as their indorse ment of your wares is an influence that permeates thru the various stratas of society. Address Inquiry to JOHN K. KETTLEWELL Advertising Manager 30 THE CHICAGOAN CHICAGO ALLIED ARTS, Inc- presents BOLM BALLET DE LAMARTER, ORCHESTRA Adolph Bohn Ruth Page, Premiere Dansuese Vera Mirova, Guest Dancer First Performance IN A SERIES OF PERFORMANCES SEATS $1 to $3, on sale at Office; Bertha Ott, 624 So. Michigan Ave., Box Offices Eighth Street Theatre and Lyon and Healv. NICOLAS REMISOFF, Scenic Director at the EIGHTH STREET THEATRE QQQQQQQQ Praised and Otherwise We have been accused of being conceited, im prudent, and disrespect ful. What of it? So have most good things. But— We have not, however, so far as we know, been accused of being unin teresting. And that, after all, is our aim. Smugness and conservatism, so far as journalism is con cerned, are, we feel, ade quately fostered, adver tised, and appreciated. So we remark casually but insistently, that The Chicagoan is the greatest boon that the smart ele ment of this great siren city has received for some time — including the World's Fair, The Eucha- ristic Congress, Wacker Drive and Queen Marie. QQaaaaaa THE CHICAGOAN 31 SSJRRtJHKt; pa TO (2© TO 11 SH IK M W W (W W W W ffl W ffl W W W 0® 0S iW W W W §% MM m TO m m m TO TO gp 2P 32 THE CHICAGOAN A. _T $1995— the first enclosed Pierce- Arrow ever priced under $3000 — this two-door, five-passenger, custom-built coach is soundest economy. Built in its entirety in the Pierce- Arrow factory, the body is the masterly custom work of men whose whole life times have been devoted to producing the finest there is. Available in your choice of six charm- Bo^ by Pierce-Arrow ing color combinations, exquisitely ap pointed, richly carpeted, and upholstered with soft finish wool, it is mounted on the economical, wear-resisting Series 80 chas sis which means 14 to 17 miles per gallon of gasoline, 15,000 to 18,000 miles from tires, and years of dependable service. A demonstration should be of interest to every person with a love for the really fine thing in a motor Car. A moderate payment now, balance to be distributed evenly over a period of months, will secure immediate delivery. PIERCE-ARROW SALES CORPORATION 2420-22 S. MICHIGAN AVENUE Telephone Calumet 5960 CHICAGO Series go Cjfive-cPassenger •» - Two-T)oor (Custom -built COACH $2995 Other coach models with four doors, $3250 to $345? All prices at Buffalo — Plus tax ggggy^ggpgggi^g^gpgg^g tsvs?<^^y^g«^g*»^^^g^g .L/OCATED on the beautiful North Shore between Wilmette and Kenilworth on the bluff that overlooks the far flung blues of the Lake will be the magni ficent achievement of that outstanding architectural genius John Eberson — The Breakers Club — unquestionably the most splendid adventure in creative development that Chicago has known. J\ SOCIAL CLUB of magnificent proportions, restricted membership, all for every member of your family including the "kiddies." Operated on busi ness principles and not dependent on "public spirit" — the plan guarantees an assured and definite income for continuous operation. Non assessable and non liable! j UST far enough away from the Loop to be convenient and yet rid of the clang, grime, and dirt of the City. 1 HE value of memberships increases with Chicago growth. PURPOSE To meet the demand in Chicago for Club-Life-by- the-Lake consisting of winter and summer sports, including private bathing facilities — indoor and outdoor — under magnificent social surroundings, whereby the assurance of fine neighborly and moral standing is given by the unquestioned reputation and integrity of its members. Membership is open to a limited number of American Citizens. Executive Offices: THE BREAKERS BEACH CLUB Information furnished on Room 1348 request without obliga- 35 East Wacker Drive "On The North Shore" tion. Just write or phone. Phone State 1989