October 8. 1927 CI4I€£» Reg. U. S. Pat. Off. "It Plays By Itself &^D THE great Rachmaninoff— Brailowsky, Goldsand, Levitzki, Lhevinne, Munz, Orloff, Rosenthal — these are but a few of the master pianists who have recorded exclusively for this marvelous instrument, which brings to your home the intense emotion and vivid imagination of great genius. In this accomplish ment the Ampico stands alone— whether interpreting the impressive magnificence of the great classics or the irresistibly infectious dance music of Zez Confrey, Vincent Lopez and Adam Carroll. HPiakiHtvik e ^ m°derate deposit will secure immediate delivery of JL CJT Ilia any piano or Ampico in our Warerooms. The balance may be divided into small monthly payments extending over a period of two years. Your present piano "will be accepted in exchange. Enabe &mptco g>tuuio£ STEGER & SONS Stiu/i'r Jhiildint) Xortlmrst Corner Wabash Avenue and Jaekson Boulevard Chic am '"E Chicagoan— Martin J. Qi.iglky, IVih.isiikk and Kimtok: published fortnightly l.y The ChicaKoan Publishing Co., 407 South Dearborn j St, ^htcago, 111. New York Office: 565 Fifth Ave. I.os Alleles Office: 5617 Hollywood Mvd. Subscription $3.00 annually, single copies 13C. vol. v, T Ch No. 2— October 8, 1927. Entere nd-clas. matter at the I'ost Oftir t ChitaKo. HI ¦ innler the act of March 3, 1879. TI4ECUICAG0AN Over CCUTTLING white-pantied offi cials lug out the linesman's stakes. A craning silence. Then a slamming, jubilant roar from the stands, whole sections of rooters mushrooming up in triumph. An other first down — Ye-ahy! Take 'em, Team! When it's over pick up CHICAGOAN Every issue a sparkling run through the star events of the city. Every issue a new cheer from the news stands for a magazine fast, clever, resourceful, and well-grounded in fundamental knowledge of this man's town and its games. All subscriptions right on the 50-yard stripe. The line, ladies and gentlemen, forms on the right. The Chicagoan 407 So. Dearborn St. Chicago, 111. Send "The Chicagoan" one year $3.00— two years $5.00. Name Address City .State. 2 TI4ECI4ICAGOAN o ¦»^0>l|>hlftllftllMlftllWW*WlllllBMftll»»MU^^ CURRENT ENTERTAINMENT OCCASIONS HERE'S HOW— The annual Service Club show, benefit performance for Chicago chanties. Debutantes as chorines. Oc tober 22. Auditorium. RADIO SHOW — Receiving and dispensing equipment on view at the Coliseum. Oc tober 10-16. PO^T RACING— Opening of the Arling ton Heights track for nineteen days of horse contests. October 10. INDIAN SUMMER— Indefinitely sched- duled for October. STMPHONT— Chicago's musical gentle men rested and solvent after the disputes of last summer will open the symphony concert season. Friday October 14, Sat urday 15. STAGE Comedies, Musical TOURS" TRULT— Four Cohans, 119 N. Clark. Central 4937. Alliteratively de scribed as the "cleanest, classiest, musical comedy." Leon Errol makes intoxication an amusing business, and so runs morally afoul the famous amendment. Well worth seeing. THE DESERT SONG— Great Northern, 21 W. Quincy. Central 8240. Sigmund Romberg, author of the music for The Student Prince, in a new set of rousing catches, this time with a drier setting. Hear it. GEORGE WHITE'S SCANDALS— Er- langer, 127 N. Clark. State 2162. An imposing collection of shapely talent, in cluding Ann Pennington and the Mc Carthy sisters, who sing blues. Stand ard entertainment — and a high, hilarious standard. Hear and see it. Drama CHICAGO— Harris, 170 N. Dearborn. Central 1880. Francine Larrimore in a dangerously truthful farce of mush and murder skillfully woven about the Sixth German City. By all means. CRIME— Adelphi, 11 N. Clark. Randolph 4466. A smooth and well laid thriller. It somehow lacks conviction. At that it's worth seeing. A stick-up job is done right on the stage. HOOSIERS ABROAD— Blackstone, 60 E. Seventh. Harrison 6609. A clean, bright play with Elliot Nugent as an adequate lead for a Booth Tarkington, Harry Leon Wilson vehicle. Yes. THE SPIDER— Olympic, 74 W. Randolph. Randolph 8240. A fusillade of shots in a darkened theatre and so on. Much pompous arresting of the audience by actor cops. A thriller. Well, maybe. AN AMERICAN TRAGEDT— Garrick, 64 W. Randolph. Randolph 8240. Dreiser's inexorable fates weave a felon's grave clothes for an ordinary American youth. Closing very shortly. TOMMT— Cort, 132 N. Dearborn. Cen tral 1009. Clean and clever. A light skit but remarkably satisfying. A sta bilising antidote for the above-mentioned tragedy. BRO AD WAT— Selwyn, 180 N. Dearborn. Central 3404. Exceptionally well staged depiction of "hoofers" and their mo ments. Backstage night club setting. Absolutely. THE GUARDSMAN— Studebaker, Har rison 2792. Opening October 3 and con tinuing to October 17. A comedy with Alfred Lunt and Lynne Fontanne. To be appraised in a later issue. October 17, THE SECOHD MAN- RAIN— Minturn's Central, 64 E. Van Buren. Harrison 5800. Somerset Maug ham's puritan tragedy revolving about one Sadie Thompson, a preacher, and the elemental urges of a tropical climate. A New York cast. MINTURN PLATERS— Chateau, 3810 Broadway. Lake View 7170. One week runs of last year's successes by a good stock company and at popular prices. Beginning October 10 "Alias the Dea con"; October 17, Tiger Rose" or "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes." Little Theatre STUDIO PLATERS— 826 N. Clark. The Creditor by August Strindberg. Donald Marye as "Adolph." Eugene O'Neil's Gold on and after October 15. The Udells have long led in a valiant effort to produce meritorious plays in Chicago before the commercial stage can or will bring them before the public. Saturday and Sunday evenings. Try it. CHICAGO ART THEATRE— Ivan Lazo- reff, formerly of the Russian Art theatre, offers plays under his direction Wednes day and Saturday evenings throughout MR. BIGGS, FEELING THE IRRESISTIBLE CALL OF OCTOBER'S BRIGHT BLUE WEATHER TI4ECUICAG0AN 3 o o CtorfMMti itIL i tt/mtHm "ini*ii-iw-|-rmi^iiriiiT!!rTr^ i iiiiiiiiiiiBiiiimiiiniir«inii<Ji^_jfcn_j^.BUj_> IN AND ABOUT THE CITY October. October 1-12, "Ropes," by Steele; "The Proposal," Chekov; "The Flattering Word," Kelly. After Octo ber 12: "Riders to the Sea," Synge; "The Dear Departed," Houghton; "Jubi lee," Chekov. Theatre of the University Church of the Disciples, 57th St. and University Ave. Maybe. THEATRE CLUB— 1368 N. Clark. Anton Chekov's "Uncle Vanya" until further notice. Good. NEW ARLIMUSC— 1501 N. La Salle (in the alley). The theme "Chicago" ex pressed in verse, painting or prose. Au thors are asked to have a fling at ex pounding their own work, October 15. See also The Art Galleries section of this calendar. Gay evening in prospect. In teresting, modern work. Believe it or not. CINEMA* Downtown McVICKERS — 25 W. Madison — The Magic Flame, Ronald Colman and Vilma Banky in another romantic tumult, Oct. 12 until finished. ROOSEVELT— 1 10 N. State— Annie Lau rie, Lillian Gish portraying that lyrical personage, until further notice. PLAYHOUSE— 410 S. Michigan— Secrets of the Soul, Freudian demonstration, un til Oct. 19; then Crime and Punishment, something else again. *It's always a good idea to ascertain, be fore starting out to see a duly scheduled picture, that it's there. Newspapers help. CHICAGO — State at Lake — Shanghai Bound, Richard Dix at sea, Oct. 12-18; A Gentleman of Paris, the sauve Menjou, Oct. 19-25. ORIENTAL— 74 W. Randolph— Mockery, Chaney and cohorts, Oct. 12-18; Spring Fever, the infrequent William Haines in good company, Oct. 19-29. Also Paul Ash. North UPTOWN — Broadway at Lawrence — The Big Parade, nonesuch war picture, Oct. 12-18; Hula, Clara Bow as a biscuit bouncer, Oct. 19-25. South TIVOLI — 6 3 2 5 Cottage Grove - Oct. 12-18; The Big Parade, Oct. (See Uptown.) - Hula, 19-25. CAPITOL— 79th at Halsted— East Side, West Side, New York propaganda, Oct. 12-18; Swim, Girl, Swim, Bebe Daniels and Gertrude Ederle, Oct. 19-25. West HARDING— 2734 Milwaukee— Topsy and Eva, the Duncan Sisters, Oct. 12-18; Camille, modernized by Norma Tal madge, Oct. 19-25. SENATE — Madison at Kedrie — Hula, Clara Bow, Oct. 12-18; The Big Parade, war epic, Oct. 19-25. SPORTS FOOTBALL— See page 11. BOX-D^G — Regular Monday night schedule of bouts at White City (63rd at South Park) under direction of Mique Malloy. RACING — Nineteen-day meet, Arlington Heights, opens Oct. 10. TABLES Downtown BLACKSTONE HOTEL— 656 S. Michi gan. Food, service and music beyond criticism. String quintet excellent. LA SALLE HOTEL— La. Salle at Madison. Blue Fountain Room enlivened by Jack Chapman's expensive orchestra. Dinner $2.50. A $.50 couvert for non-diners. STEVEHS HOTEL— 730 S. Michigan. A colossal hostelry, but not too large to afford excellent service. Joseph Gal- lechio's musicians attend his baton in the main dining room. Dinner in the main dining room $3.00 — in the other dining rooms half that amount. PALMER HOUSE— State at Monroe. Vic toria room orchestra does dance har monics for diners. The Palmer Little Symphony in the Empire Room. Fine cuisine and gracious attention. CONGRESS— Michigan at Congress. Pom- peian room and Balloon room, the latter operating under a couvert charge of $1.50 on week days and $2.50 on Satur day night. Glittering. COLLEGE INN— Hotel Sherman— Clark at Randolph. A popular place. Maurie Sherman's band and adequate victualling. RANDOLPH ROOM— Bismarck Hotel. DETERMINES TO ENJOY JOHN T. McCUTCHEON'S OWN INDIAN SUMMER TO THE UTMOST 4 TWECUICAGOAN 171 N. Randolph. Al Ponta's band snares customers, and pleasantly. HENRICI'S— 71 W. Randolph. Positively no orchestra. Food adequate. Coffee unusually good. No couvert. ATLANTIC HOTEL— 316 S. Clark. Ger man cooking — und wiel ST. HUBERT'S OLD ENGLISH GRILL — 615 Federal. Hard to find but too good to miss. Lamb chops from animals evidently the size of a Chevrolet. Out a Ways SHORELAND— Lake Michigan at 55th. Dining in Louis XVI room and dancing every Saturday night to selected orches tras. Featuring dollar dinners with no couvert charge to diners : $0.50 after 9:00 to non-diners. MARINE DINING ROOM— Edgewater Beach Hotel. View of the lake that out- shimmers any moving picture wall scape. Good music. Good food. Good people. SALLT'S— 4650 Sheridan Road. Early morning catering to the demands of the Wilson Avenue breakfast enthusiasts. And they do get enthusiastic circa 6 a. m. COLOSIMO'S— 2126 S. Wabash. Italian food in an atmosphere whispering of crimson memories. Now fallen onto easier times. SUNSET— 35th at Calumet. Where the sun never rises. Entertainment on and off the boards. Black, slightly dark, and tan. Customers are invariably hilarious. And the doors never close. MIDNIGHT FROLICS — Wabash and 22nd. Noisiest reputation in the city, and it lives up to the last echo. Dancing and floor show. A bare minimum of reticences. VICTOR HOUSE— 7 E. Grand Ave. Italian food of excellent quality and in stevedore helpings. Everything for $1.50. LE PETIT GOURMET— 615 N. Michi gan. Smart, good menu, creditable pa trons. Table d'hote $1.50 and $2. THE CHICAGOAN PRESENTS The Fountain, by Burton Browne. . .Cover A Bit of Self Confidence Page 1 Events in Prospect 2 Entertainments at Hand 3 Fortnightly Readers' Guide 4 Chicago in the Public Prints 5 The Service Club Show 6 Last Word on the Alleged Fight 7 A Chicagoan in London & A Chicagoan in Paris 9 Gene Markey on Hams 10 Charles Collins on Football 11 A Long Suppressed Scandal 12 A Very Striking Editorial 13 Backgrounds and Superstitions 14 Home Suite Home 15 A Gaseous Expose 16 Captain Patterson 17 A Bit of Humor 18 Alco-Analysis, a Science 19 The Newsprint Problem 20 Chicago Theatre History 21 The Entertaining Mr. Ford 22 Things Concerning the Stage 23 A Collection of Items 24 Things Concerning the Screen 25 Sports as They Are Practiced 26 Art Galleries Get Going 27 A Book About Chicago 28 What Chicago Ladies Will Wear 29 What Parisian Ditto 30 The Vogue and Such Things 31 Letters From Chicago Readers 32 JIM IRELAND'S FISH HOUSE— An es tablishment devoted exclusively to sea foods which are sumptuously served from eight of one morning until five by dawn s early light of the following forenoon. PEARSON HOTEL— 190 E. Pearson. Noiseless, well-bred. A residental hotel with few transients. Benson's orchestra in the dining room. Good food. Nice people. $1.50. No couvert. ART ART INSTITUTE— H. Leon Roecker, J. Jeffery Grant and E. T. Grigware in one-man shows. Contemporary Swedish decorative art. Sculpture by Edwin Pearson. NEWBERRY LIBRARY— Rare manu scripts and books tracing the history of printing. Plates and volumes concerned with costumes. Edward E. Ayer collec* tion of prints and drawings of Western Indians. PLAYHOUSE THEATRE— Exhibition of sculpture, plaques, and bas reliefs by Tennessee Mitchell Anderson. CHESTER H. JOHNSON— An important showing of French impressionists, includ' ing fine examples of Manet, Monet, Degas, Renoir, Laurencin and others- English 18th century school, including Raeburn, Gainsborough, Benj. West, Beachey, Hopper and others. NEW ARLIMUSC— 1501 N. La Salle St., around the alley. Exhibition of local moderns on the theme "Chicago." Open ing October 15th. CARSON PIRIE SCOTT 6? CO.— Open ing of new galleries, October 15th, with a showing of the recent paintings of Edward Redfield, N. A. Etchings by Frank Brangwyn. ANDERSONS — Etchings by Aug** Lepere. Paintings by Americans and Europeans. CHICAGO GALLERIES ASSOCIATION — One man exhibits of E. D. Albinson of Minneapolis, James McBurney, Chi* cago, and Alexis J. Fournier of E**1 Aurora, N. Y. OCTOBER T Advertising WO national magazines for the month of October carry long articles on Chicago, and — as is the custom of national magazines — speak knowingly of her crimes, past, present and hypo thetical. Kate Sargent, investigator for The Forum, sets out — as her preface ad mits — to "psychoanalyse Chicago." We suspect Mrs. Sargent of copying after the present Chief of Police and hs compulsory mental clinic. Plain Tdfl^ a new and lively organ of opin ion, originating in New York, carries an excellent exposition of the Chicago beer and alkey wars with their alli ances, diplomacies, and, one almost says, their campaigns in the field. The articles are entitled respectively "Chi cago, Hands Up!" apparently the best The Forum's caption writer could do, and "Chicago's Gun Smoke Lifts," a hopeful note from Plain Tal\. James Mulroy, a Chicago man and author of the article bearing the longer title, explains the shifting of alliances from beer chief to beer chief as the thirsty Chicago territories yielded golden harvests when thoroughly wet ted with juniper ex tract. Mr. Mulroy presents a matter of fact sur* vey — eloquent only in its bare statistics — ex cept where the swash buckling figure of Dion CBanion moves reck lessly through its mur derous annals. The OTJanion has epic stuff in him. He may yet displace Jesse James. Already he is become a kind of pro hibition Robin Hood. "An American Tragedy" One sees, far to the fu ture, an O'Banion Cycle. At any rate, Mulroy is clear, wise, and competent. He gives names and figures — altogether an excel lent survey of this zest- ful town, and a brave one. He offers no solutions. Mrs. Sargent comes somewhat obliquely to the matter in hand. The recent mayoral election puzzles her. (She is nevertheless re garded as an astute ob server.) She quotes Balzac. She discov ers Al Caponi as sec ond high man in the city. The old "Four Deuces" at 2222 S. Wabash, she places in the Loop. (No bashful resort, the "Four Deuces"; just as well Mrs. Sargent stayed away.) She is offered a drink, presumably beer, by a bold news paper reporter, and she is thrilled to find four speakeasies within hail ing distance. At first sight a rather tender lady to cover Chicago. Eventually she dis covers that Chicago is open, wet, moderately well satisfied with its sinfulness and entirely unabashed by what visiting journalists may think of it. She dis covers that there are gang killings and she retails stale and sec ond-hand gossip about them. A different SAYS Chicago is "Copy" Melody Pays A Gunman Knows Service is Sweet The 90's Were Gay Bridges are Built Chicago Provides Tunney Won story from the blunt authoritative history by Mr. Mulroy. Clarence Darrow contributes a forceful piece of writing to Plain Tal\, again op posing prohibition. The new Boo\man for September contains an article by Florence Kiper Frank and an other by the late Keith Preston. The Chicagoan modestly disclaims re sponsibility for inspir ing any, not to say all, of this publicity. Education I IME was — and not so long ago — when parents sent their off' spring to school the first September after they were six years old. Or, if the parents were very cautious, they wait ed until the children were seven or eight, for fear of overtaxing their little minds. Today no child is sent to a pre-kindergarten before he is eighteen months old. "On Thursday, October 6," reads a notice sent out to parents, "you will please bring Martha Jane (aged three) and Stephen (four) to take their in telligence tests." Reaction IN checking our priceless list of enter tainments catalogued a page or two for ward, we phoned a leading hotel. We were connected with an earnest male voice, who contracted to answer all questions. "Just go ahead and ask." Our first query was a modest one. "We want some dope on the orches- 6 TUECUICAGOAN tra playing there." "The orchestra? Well, they get be tween 12 and 13 dollars an hour." Atonement 1 HE ensuing dialogue is attested for by the young lady who acts therein as interlocutor. She is secretary to a criminal lawyer. On Yom Kippur afternoon an unsavory client pushed open the door and presented a blubber- lipped smile to the secretary. He spoke through a bashed-in nose: "Waze the boss?" "He's gone for Yom Kippur." "Young who — ?" "Yom Kippur, the Day of Atone ment." "I sez waze the boss." "Why he's home today." "Sick, huh." "No, it's a Jewish holiday; he's home praying for his sins." "Praying! Sins! Well, tell him to pustpone it; we gotta gota trial next Monday!" Service T 1 HE Service Club, organized by Lolita Armour Mitchell and legally incorporated in the state of Illinois on the 13th day of June, 1894, is an or ganization whose object is officially "to render any service in its power to those in need. It shall be the duty of each member to render any service possible to those about her, and to assist in philanthropic work." More specifically, it is an active or ganization of some 150 debutantes from the best families of Chicago. Just at present its most active members are some 40 bedevilled young ladies in scant Ned Wayburn rompers toilsome ly in the process of becoming tempo rary chorus girls for "Here's How," an "intimate" revue to be presented at the Auditorium Theatre, October 22. It is, so we are assured, a genuine Broadway production directed and staged by Wayburn himself, and cer tainly the tunes rehearsed by the ladies had an unmistakable Broadway tinkle. Profits from the show — and one hopes they will be genuine Broadway profits —go to 40 charities. Volunteering young ladies are promptly cast as ponies, mediums, and show girls, according to physical con figuration inherited from a long line of sturdy Chicago enterprisers. They are forbidden late hours, cocktails — but not Joe yet will alter his condition And learn, through one brave fling at \nowledge, Enough for one swift trip to college, cigarettes — and exercised three times a day for three weeks, the while on a diet. Meanwhile they are stretched, limbered and drilled in chorus evolu tions. Mr. Wayburn, when not shout ing at his charges, assures pressmen that they are quite the most ravishing debs his practiced eye has yet lighted upon. That they are clever and quick to learn. That they are naturally chorus girls. Then he bawls at them. The young ladies rather like it, a curi ous reaction. A welcome but somewhat unflatter ing glare of photographer's magnesium — naked and revealing light — plays over room 312 in the Woman's Ath letic Club. There is a flutter of camera shutters, a backstage confusion. "Sweet stuff," whisper the newspaper boys. Blondes and brunettes, we discover, are nearly evenly divided. Forms to be reviewed come in all dimensions. Some of them lend full credence to the Broadway idea. Ankles are uniformly good. Ages, we should guess, cluster pretty closely near 19 and 20 years. A piano plunks into the chorus for the fifth time. "All right, girls," yells a directing personage, "get this refrain over once more. Get into it." Young voices catch onto the rapidly moving tune, swing aboard it. Blam goes an other flashlight. Sweet charity. Reminiscence IT'S not much of a tower, the ugly little brick cubicle atop the Audi torium building at 431 South Wabash, but it has an arched window in it and Yet be not forced to bow confessed A hoor at Alma Mater s breast: Wherefore he spea\s of comedones And anapests and foreign loans. a cast iron railing set decorously around its middle. In 1894 the Auditorium tower was the highest place in Chicago. Young ladies of that day clutched timorously at their petticoats and shrieked in maidenly fright as they gazed from its then appalling height. Young men in open-faced collars, derby hats. and drooping moustaches soothed these ladies and contrived to look brave even though a gig and a p*^ of trotters was a small, small objetf below them. Ah well, it was a guileless day- Even a trip on a hundred-foot fern5 wheel was an adventure. Imfiasse I OUR hundred thousand vehides. according to the Chicago Surfac* Lines, are at large in Chicago. All of them foregather between four and si* o'clock in the afternoon between Eighth Street and the Michigan Avenue bridge in an effort to go fro"1 the south to the north side or from the north side to the south. It take* forty minutes for an ordinary zifft cylinder car in good condition to make the run from Monroe and the Out* Drive to the Wrigley Building. Stop lights mean nothing. Cars are halted when the lights are red afld when they are green. Bus driv*8 know that they will have plenty °j time to get out of their coaches an<» smoke a few friendly cigarettes ^ their confreres while waiting & traffic to move. Hardened chauffeur* halted in the middle of the street TUtCmCAGOAN 7 And tells of where the dromon roams And adds a hint of chromosomes And makes his point exceeding clear Anent truncations of the sphere. read the back page of The Evening American or comfortably doze. Shop pers alight from their cars and buy their winter wardrobes while the policeman lets other cars turn. A few afternoons ago a jolly pedestrian wormed his way across Michigan Avenue between the rows of panting cars. "Drive over to La Salle Street, men," he advised; "they're widening the street and you'll be able to get through there easy in a couple of years." ¦ The newspapers reported it loosely as another gang murder. Retreat r V-^HICAGO provides. Especially for Saturday's children. Though they must work for a living — even contrary, sometimes, to union rules — they are not denied the pursuit of happiness and learning. In fact if they don't pursue these items hard enough the items turn around and say, **IH chase you a while." Her latest provision, located at Douglas Boulevard and St. Louis Avenue, is a social center that com bines most of the best features of a modern school and an exclusive club. Of course no one would venture to say that there is any place like home; but few homes include a gymnasium, swimming tank, handball courts, a Turkish bath, a physics laboratory, a fully equipped theatre, four billiard tables and a barber shop. Home is unexcelled; but there is a limit even to the most extensive home library, and what home contains fifteen pianos? It must be a very luxurious And add, lest he he thought an ass, Ballistics of a forward pass — Deprived of formal erudition Joe yet will altar his condition. — F. C. COUGHLIN. home, too, that has a handsomely fur nished living room, a men's lounge and boy's room, each with its radio outlet, its overstuffed furniture, its profusion of magazines to be read before its generous open fireplaces. Far be it from anyone to detract from home; but when mothers on the southwest side ask plaintively, "Where is my wandering boy tonight?" the chances are that he will be exercising his mind or his body at the new Jewish Peoples Institute. Airscafie 1 HERE are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of" by laymen — especially things in the heavens. While the first pages of the daily papers have been filled with tales of trans continental, transoceanic, transcenden tal flights, a Chicago firm has quietly been developing a highly useful branch of commercial aviation. It was the war which indicated the practicability and importance of aerial reconnaisance; but so sweet are the uses of adversity that they pointed the way to peacetime photography, which is both a science and an art, as well as a business enterprise. The Chicago Aerial Survey Com pany, for five years, has been en gaged in the unique work of photo graphing Chicago and the vicinity from the air and of producing "mosaic maps." They are the artists who take many of the portraits of the city which make a Chicagoan square his shoulders and feel proud that he is a Chicagoan. An aerial photograph shows what the non-flying citizen, as a rule, sees only when he stands on a very high observation tower and looks out over the city. It shows the huge bulk of the city, the towering mass of build ing upon building, an impressionistic conception of growth and strength and power. In its files the company has a sequence of photographs of all sec tions of Chicago, showing buildings going, going, gone and neighborhoods and miles of made land coming, com ing, come; an extraordinary, graphic history of an extraordinary city. M Id ea JR. BEN ABRAMSON, the cherub of the Argus book shop, dis closed recently to this reporter that he was about to present a new idea to the book world. Mr. Abramson was there upon greeted by a gentle but firm snicker. A snicker, we add, of doubt. However, the idea is new and it is good, and assuming that the alert Ben is the author of it, we bow. Catalogue No. 15 of the Argus is out in an unassuming little volume. But for the select and the ardent collector of "items" there is a large paper edi tion of the catalogue printed on vellum, limited to 175 copies and signed by William J. Henneman, the bibliogra pher; N. H. Roth, the printer, and Ben Abramson, the president. a T Echo HERE was no doubt about it. It was a clean fight, well conducted, and Tunney won on his merits by such a clear margin that it would be ridiculous for them to fight again. In all of the years that I have followed prize fighting, I know of no oc casion in which the refereeing was so absolutely above reproach. And the $200 I won doesn't in fluence me in the least. The best man won. — THE D EMPSEY is champion of the world. No referee counting fourteen over Tunney can rob him of the honor. The fact that he was knocked around the last two rounds don't mean a thing. Who wouldn't b e discouraged after a deal of that kind? If Tunney fights him again, he'll need two ref erees. If the fel low I bet with was any kind of a sport he wouldn't have taken my $200." EDITORS. 8 TI4E CHICAGOAN ONE'S first impression upon quit ting Paris and entering London, no matter how many times one may have performed the feat, is that of sampling a good hearty mess of bacon and eggs after an exquisite, if some what frothy, dessert. As you ride up through the sleepy dawn from New- haven (assuming that you are one of those unfortunates who cannot afford the forty-five minute daylight route), you feel it — the Impression — looming before you: Substantial but stodgy— Oh, how stodgy! — something in the manner of an English cold potato. Gone the fascinating comic opera decor of the Seine; imminent the sooty fog of the Thames, which, at 6 A. M., none too subtly lacks the charm of the late Mr. Whistler's Chelsea mists. In stead, as you taxi outward from the Victoria Station, rows of matter-of- fact-front dwellings (for British archi tecture reflects the British mind), which might be inhabited by Chicago aldermen. This, it may be reiterated, is the first impression. But the impression with which one leaves London, after a week is: What a marvel this left-handed city is, from the point of view of transpor tation, and as an inevitable corollary: How bad Chicago does need that sub way! The London theatre may be — and is — quite as bad as that of Paris, Chi cago or New York; the native London er's manners may be — and are — quite as offensive as those of that most im possible of all creatures, the native New Yorker; it may be — and is — an impossibility to purchase a package of cigarettes after 9 o'clock at night with out hunting up a slot machine; and the cigarettes, when you find them, may be — and are — impossible for any but a disciple of the sainted Lucy Page Gaston to smoke — all these things may be — and, undoubtedly, are — true; but when it comes to getting where you want to go, getting there directly and, in Americanese, getting there quick — when it comes to this, London should be awarded the Grand Something or Other. And it is all due to what the Eng lishman calls the Underground, or the Tube — the "subway," as a vocable, does not exist for him. The tube, coupled with the double-decked tram and the double-decked bus. Why, by the way, if Chicago simply can't afford a subway — but, shush! that's pro-Brit ish propaganda, and Mayor Bill might A Chicagoan in London Brightly if Unofficially Reports the Tube System overhear us. Anyway, it is your hum ble servant's hunch that the doubled- decker street car might prove more effective than a too occasional trailer. Yes, if you please, London appears to have solved the problem very nicely for a metropolis in which, by official calculation, seven million per sons say their Now-I-lay-me every night, while an additional million flocks in shortly after the breakfast hour. And the beautiful part is, nei ther bus, tram nor tube seems to be unduly crowded, even at the rush hour. If this is what happens as a re sult of driving on the left, instead of the right, side of the street, why weren't we all born left-handed? But now, as usual, it begins to look as if America might horn in and spoil it all. They are beginning to experi ment with the Yankee stop-and-go system. Are we, after all these dec ades, to witness the effacement of the London bobby's superb white- gloved gesture? Modernity and efficiency, what crimes are committed in your names! However, sic transit — some thing is always transiting, it seems. If the largest city in the world be comes sufficiently Americanized, the now comparatively simple matter of crossing the street in the vicinity of Piccadilly Circus or Leicester Square may become as complicated as it is at Broadway and Forty-second or State and Madison. Something has been said, in pass ing, of the London theatre, but it is one of those things of which the least said the better, probably. So far as I have been able to discover, there is no extant British drama; there is an al leged form of entertainment that takes place on the stage and which comes from the States. It usually has little relation to drama and none whatever to British life. I will not say to British art, for the reason that there is no art in Britain at the present time. Litera ture is dead, while English painting has always given me a violent mal de mer. As for the movies, that as yet unspeakable young art of the future: Michael Strogoff or Hollywood's what- have-you. But to come back to the theatre, one of the best things in London just now is Tillulah Bankhead, in "The Garden of Eden," at the Lyric. There is, also, Miles Malleson's advertised shocker, "The Fanatics," which deals, the press agent informs us, with "marriage and muddled morals" and which, we are assured, is "just the thing for us mod' ems." Let us glance over the rest of the list. There is "The One-Eyed Herring," which has to do, not with herrings but with American prohibi' tion. Probably the most popular revue is "One Dam Thing After Another" at the Pavilion. At the St. James, we find "Interference," a frank melo* drama; at St. Martin's, "Meet the Wife," another comedy of American extraction. And somewhere, "The Butter and Egg Man" is playing, etc., etc. Having dipped into and out of the contemporary "British" theatre, hav ing seen (and walked out on) "Michael Strogoff" in Division Street, Chicago, some months ago, being un' able to endure the inanities that issue from the British presses (including the British Press) and not being able to stomach either British portraiture or British landscaping, there was nothing left, it would seem, but the British Museum — and right here, I will rise to remark, Thank God, for the British Museum. Likewise for the primitives in the National Gallery, the Tate Gal' lery and the Wallace Collection. And the Thames does make the Seine ap pear more like a toy stream than ever. And it is fun trying to find Cleopatra's needle in a fog. And the Tower of London is shudderingly impressive from a distance. And, outside of that — How Chicago does need a subway! — SAMUEL PUTNAM. TMECWCAGOAN 9 A Chicagoan in Paris Investigates Baedeker and Adds a Supplemental Note THE gentleman who writes the guide books have indeed encylo- paedic minds. Scarcely a small town in Europe which they do not fail to notice in some such fashion as: 14SV2 km. Pezeville — les— Moustiches, pop. (1880), 16,373. This town is the seat of a subsous prefet and also contains 17 retired English spinsters and a glucose factory. The latter will well repay a visit. In the attic of the town hall (open free the third Sunday in Advent; at other times 50 cents) may be seen the chair Jeanne d'Arc was sitting on when she exclaimed, "LaFayette, we are here." On the bank of the river, and a little below the outlet from the glucose factory, are situated the famous "Thermal Baths" for the treatment of facial eruptions, nervous disorders or what have you. A pleasant expedition may be made from here by narrow gauge R. R. (5 km., 2'/2 hours; passenger train, Fri.) to the source of the Ooze River, which trickles romantically out of a rock. Situated a little way above is the cowshed of the ruined Chateau des Oeufs. where Mme. de Sevijne died of delirium tremens. This is the kind of things that the youthful flower of our colleges, high schools, and the American Legion have had to pack and unpack and carry around with them this summer when what they really wanted to know was, — well, you know the kind of time it was they really wanted to know about in Paris. Yet, not a word of advice to young men to be found in the sterilised pages of Dr. Baedeker or the cheery ones of our own Clara Laughlin. Now those who have girded their several loins for a visit to the most- sided of cities, with an avowed inner resolution to savor its famed tempta tions, cannot of course hope to find the assistance they desire in the confines of any volume that Fannie Butcher could stock. (But send plain stamped self-addressed envelop to Sally Joy Brown, and await developments; this offer is a special one, and is made to old subscribers only.) For those, how ever, who may be prepared to meet, butj are resolved finally to reject temp tation and must face it without previ ous cosmopolitan training beyond Pea cock Alley at the Congress— for such we propose an additional section in the front of the guide book, perhaps as a substitute for the disquisition on 'Tramways, Omnibuses and Their Routes." (Who but a native has ever tried to take a tramway or an omnibus in Paris anyhow?) This section, then, would be entitled "How to Be Good Gracefully," and its various subheadings would furnish approved and practically tested meth ods for disposing of such flowers of the Great Boulevards as the Postcard Pest, the Runner, and finally the Direct-to- Consumer Merchandiser in propria persona. The criterion of any such methods to be that they leave the profferer not merely rebuffed by an awkward and sweating Puritan on the curb, but actually outmanoeuvred and finessed by the assumedly stupid prey. For instance, the naughty postcard peddler, an eternal pest found every where. He even appears in the out lying quarters, where it would seem that hardly more than a few tourists could come his way. His ubiquitous- ness indeed suggests the possibility that the postcard manufacturer, like the publishers of some of our leading weeklies, have inveigled every ambiti ous youth in the faubourgs into trying this way to Make-Money-inYour- Spare-Time. The top card of the deck is invariably the Arc de Triomphe, which you will have to buy sometime anyhow, but do not let that trick you into taking this pack in hand, if only for aesthetic reasons. If Mr. Zieg- feld ever saw them the sight would spoil his sleep for a week. Now if you must bring back a few, just to show the boys, there's a little place, my dear, on a side-street,off the Rue St. Honore, where they have the most divine mod els and the prices there are barely half what they ask in the larger well known houses where the Americans all go. An excellent way to baffle the post card insinuation is to assume an expres sion of reverie and let him waste a good deal of time and English upon you. Then turn suddenly and ejaculate, "Kto! T^o/ ?-{on — compro de ellas.,' You know that he understands Spanish because of the Latin-American trade, but the shock will prove very trying to him, especially if you are of the campus type. Having mastered the art of the de fense it may please the visitor himself to enter the field of offensive tactics. It must be admitted, to be sure, that Fretting the Frog isn't what it used to be in 1917-1919. The Frog is wiser now. Admit also that you will seldom make a score on the type which has offended you. Still the game has its possibilities. A simple preliminary to an evening of it is, for instance, to enter a taxi and insist upon being driven to the "Place Defense D'Affi- cher." That is all the French you un derstand and the only destination that will satisfy you. An endurance con test will follow. If you are lucky your driver will be called for obstructing traffic, will explain to justify himself and that will bring the policeman too. If anyone who threatens to speak Eng lish well should butt in with a desire to help, you can still prevent the situa tion from being cleared up by develop ing a violent rage at the deliberate thwarting of your desires so the linguis tic Samaritan won't have a chance. At this all participants will give you up as hopeless and your taxi driver will, grumbling to himself all the while, drive you to where he thinks all Amer icans want to go, Place Pigalle, and that is where you wanted to be any way. Having attained a Mont-Martre cabaret, you can proceed to refuse the champagne served by the house as "pas bon," which adds insult to finan cial injury, and go across the street en masse at appropriate intervals and get your drinks reasonably at one of the excellent little bars. I say en masse because it is distinctly unsafe to play this game unless in such numbers that to eject you forcibly would create a disturbance that would get into the papers. This would be bad for trade, so you can count on a jolly evening of watching M. le Proprietaire trying to grin and bear it. Such triumphs and others contribu- tive to the comity of nations are dis cussed daily at the Ritz bar between 11 and 1 and 4 and 7. However, I shan't tell you where that is located, because, "it would really spoil the place, my dear, if too many Americans were to discover it." — GRAHAM ALDIS. 10 TWtCUICAGOAN I F I MAY /AY SO Tk ere s a Ha m in Every Ho me 44'~TmYLEY have a plentiful lac\ of 1 wit, together with most weak hams." — Hamlet, Act II; Sc. ii. Time was when the word, "Ham," embraced nothing more than the gro tesque figure of the barnstorming ac tor. A score of years ago the comic magazines made much of his type, pic tured always as a gaunt, shabby fel low, out at the elbows and in at the belt, wearing a rusty "plug" hat and a moth-chewed fur-collared coat; a pathetic vagabond, yet bombastic with egotism even when reduced to striding the railroad ties from one one-night stand to the next. This was the gen erally accepted Ham of 1907. In 1927 the term, Ham, has expanded until it includes all persons professing such a blatant fondness for themselves that they are interested in nobody else. Hams are no longer confined to the stage, though it is true that the stage still has a corner on them. Today, if I may say so, there are Hams in every home. I have been indulging in extensive sociological experiments along these lines, and the results of my experi ments show that there are five main classifications of Hams: 1 . Actors. .(a) Loud speaking. (b) Unspoken, or Hollywood Hams. 2. Big Business barons. 3. Social Lights. 4. Athletes. (a) Amateur. (b) Professional. ?. Private (but not sufficiently private) Citizens. It is with Class 1 that the world is most familiar. There have always been Hams in the theatre, and so long as it remains possible for one group of per sons to paint their faces and strut upon a raised platform before another group of persons, there will always be Hams in the theatre. Hammishness comes as naturally to an actor as sunburn to a lifeguard. And it is scarcely his own fault. Actors acquire a false es timation of their own importance from the very fact that so many people ap pear interested in them, often to the extent of paying actual currency to have a look at them. And no actor exists who is not firmly convinced that every other actor is a Ham. They can't all be wrong. In a long associa tion with the theatre and its fantastic denizens I have known but two actors who were completely free from Ham mishness. One was that gallant gen tleman, John Drew, and the other is Mrs. Fiske. Mrs. Fiske's contempt for the Ham of her profession is vastly refreshing. She refers to them as "have-you-seen-me's." (Have you seen me in this? Have you seen me in that?) This delightful expression is rapidly creeping into the language. One no longer says "actors"; one says, for example: "Two have-you-seen-me's emerged from the Lambs' Club." There are, of course, two groups of theatre Hams: successful actors and those whose names are not in electric lights. The successful actor .talks, without intermission, about himself (or herself) because it never occurs to him (or her) that you are not bub bling over with interest in him (or her). Unsuccessful actors talk, with out intermission, about themselves lest you begin to suspect that they are un successful actors. In defense of Hollywood Hams it must be admitted that not all of them insist on cornering the conversation. But perhaps that is because so few of them speak English. However, Class 1 Hams are not the most objectionable. My experiments have proved that the fumes of Class 2 Hams are more deadly. The most egregious egotist in existence is the Colonel of Industry. He will tell you How He Did It — whether you care to listen or not. Compared to him, the actor is a blushing violet. The Big Business Goliath is about as reticent as the noon whistle on a boiler factory. But, fortunately, the noon whistle is "Dija see the new fountain?" "Walgreen's or Buck & Ray- nor's?" heard only once a day. Moreover, the noon whistle confines itself to tell' ing you that mid-day has arrived, whereas the Titan of Commerce wants to tell you everything about every thing. Politics, Sports, Literature, K' nance — he knows all the answers. In my humble peregrinations about the civilized world (as it is sometimes called) I have encountered many of these Big Business bozos, and I have yet to meet one who is not vain, ponv pous and pontifical to an absurd de* gree. Of Class 3, the Social Ham, there is not much to be said. Pretense is the backbone of Hammishness, and there is so much pretense in our American society that there is bound to be Ham' mishness. But if American society had no Hams, what would the news' papers do to fill their "society w col' umns? There, you will agree, is a grave hypothetical problem. Athletes, as a general rule, are quite as Hammish as actors. There is the same angle of the Public Eye to be reckoned with. And amateur atb' letes are scarcely less Hammish than professionals. At Dartmouth I be* longed to a fraternity which was known irreverently as The Athletic Club. We had most of the captains of the teams, and more than our share of gymnasium gallopers, and they were as fine an aggregation of Hams as ever gathered in an actors* boarding house. Among professional athletes the most colossal Ham is the pugilist (common or Madison Square Garden variety) . Mr. Tunney, perhaps, is an exception. Perhaps. We are informed that he is a glutton for culture, and possibly his influence will spread Kght throughout the trade. At the present writing, however, there is no pee* ponderance of culture in this industry The average gentleman on the sock' exchange thinks The Ring and the Book was written by Abe Attel. It is useless to focus the cold white light of analysis upon the Class 5 Ham, the private (but not sufficiently private) citizen. This is a treacherous subject, because scientific research has revealed that there is a Ham in every home. It might be Aunt Minnie. It might even be — yourself. You can readily understand why it is just as well not to pry into the matter fur* ther. And the most depressing clir covery of the entire investigation B* in the fact that you can't cure a Ham- — GENE MARKBY. TMECMICAGOAN n mess of box-office receipts. BEFORE the excitement over the intercollegiate football season becomes too intense, let us cast an ap praising and reflective eye upon the venal gladiators of the game — the professionals whose stalwart exhibitions are anathema at the University Club and a hissing among the faculties. They are worth studying, these huskies who play post-graduate football for hire. They represent the only phase of American life where earning money connotes loss of caste. It is easy to remember the clouds of bunk which arose from the campuses when Red Grange consummated his delirious ballyhoo by turning professional. — He had be trayed his Alma Mater for a The gesture of dying for dear old Rutgers would no longer inspire the youth of our land to heroic exploits. College football, a sacrament as well as a sport, would soon join the brontosaurus and the pterodactyl; and shaggy, uncouth professionals, playing for thirty pieces of silver, would take over the sacred ritual. This was the end. — So it ran. It was a brilliant demonstration of our na tional pastime of viewing with alarm. Two years have passed since that curious panic, and nothing happened to justify the jeremiads. Intercollegiate football still flour ishes. The professionals are still plugging along in their dogged way, giving a few thousands of citizens who do not wear frater nity pins healthy open-air recrea tion on Sunday afternoons. The menace of professional football is as remote as that of the yellow peril. So much for pessimistic prophecy. The professional game has been, is, and will remain a byproduct of the amateur gridirons. There is sound rea son for its existence. If football is really a great game, instead of a manifestation of adolescent hysteria, the col leges themselves do not provide enough of it to satisfy the demand. The eight Saturdays in October and November cannot gratify the lust of a genuine fanatic. So the pro fessionals, with their longer schedules of Sunday games, serve as a sedative to the football fever. Anyone who en joys football as a contest of physical prowess and skill should be grateful to these scorned and salaried athletes. And anyone who protests that he cannot enjoy football ex cept as a frantic alumnus, raucous with partisanship, is mentally still in the high school age, no matter how adult. College football is the dramatic poetry of the game; pro fessional football is its cool arid logical prose. After a frenzied Saturday afternoon at Stagg or Dyche Field, it is refreshing to spend a peaceful Sabbath with the Bears or Cardinals. After a debauch of mass-emotion, there is pleasure in contemplation and analysis. The mists of Sat urday's excitement clear away from the mind; one can watch and study the game without agonies or ecstacies. The fine points of play come to the attention. One enjoys Professional Football Charles Collins Assays the Sanalot Football Dates OCTOBER 8 Indiana at Chicago Utah at Northwestern Butler at Illinois Ohio State at Iowa Michigan State at Michigan Oklahoma at Minnesota Purdue at Harvard Wisconsin at Kansas Notre Dame at Detroit OCTOBER 15 Purdue at Chicago Northwestern at Ohio State Ohio State at Illinois Michigan at Wisconsin Minnesota at Indiana Wabash at Iowa Notre Dame vs. Navy, at Baltimore the spectacle as a connois seur, rather than gloating over it like a maniac. Yes, it is a great game and these professionals play it beauti' fully. They are the old masters, and their skill is a constant delight, even though they lack some of the organized fury of the collegians. The crowds that attend professional football matches know the game in spite of the fact that they are deficient in college degrees. Their comments are more intelligent than the chatter of old grads at the college stadia. With out elaborate signal boards to help them in the interpreta tion of the rules, they understand the infliction of penalties better than the Saturday afternoon alumni. They often call an off-side play before the officials have given their decision. Their manners are accept able. They are good-natured and not blindly partisan. Their attitude toward the visiting team is not hostile, and their sportsmanship is genuine. Whenever the merry game of razzing is practiced, its tone is humorous rather than bitter. They are worthy of the fine tradition of the gridiron, these Sunday afternooners, in spite of the fact that they are innocent of the higher education. The Bears, whose lair is the Cubs baseball park, are strongly representative of the universities of Illinois, Chicago and North western. Their disciples of Zuppke include the senior Sterna- man and Halas, who are owners as well as players; "Little Joe" Sternaman, now back in the fold after experimenting with a team of his own; Oscar Knopf, McMillan, and Kassell, last year's captain at Illinois. Their Staggmen are Milton Romney, who helped the Maroons beat Princeton; Kernwein, half-back on the 1925 team; and Bryan. Northwestern's only representative on the Bears this year is a team in himself: he is the indestruct- tible and impeccable Paddy Driscoll, one of the Olympians of the game. His drop-kicking is deadly; his punting is long and accurate in placing; his dashes off tackles are almost infallible. Driscoll is well over thirty years old, but he improves with age, and deserves to be called the best half-back now wearing a leather helmet. Vick of Michigan; Lyman of Nebraska; Healy of Dart mouth; Buckler of Alabama; and Trafton of Notre Dame are other giants of the past and present who wear the orange jerseys of the Bears. Then there is Bill Senn, who was unknown to fame when he played for Knox College two years ago. Against tight and stiff professional defense he is regularly doing what Red Grange failed to do. He reels off long, dashing runs, of from 30 to 60 yards, with the speed of a track athlete who has paced the 100 yards in less than 10 seconds and the elusiveness of a ballet dancer. Grange is no longer the "galloping ghost"; Senn holds his title. The Cardinal roster now represents (Turn to page 28) 12 T14E CHICAGOAN The Gay Old "Times" A Long Sufifiressed Scarehead ONE of the most interesting sto ries of Chicago's early history, now all but forgotten, was the horse whip ping on the public streets of Wilbur F. Storey, founder and editor of the Chi cago Times, by Lydia Thompson, a well-known Eng lish burlesque actress. It happened in late November, 1869. Storey was a picturesque figure in the old school of personal journalism, a contemporary of Greeley, Dana, Hawley, Medill and McLean. In those days a newspaper accurately reflected the personal views of its owner on every public question and many pri vate subjects. The editorial page was considered the most important depart ment of the paper and most of the editorials were written by the owners, who did not hesitate to call a spade a steam shovel. Storey was a leader in this type of journalism, and gave to Chicago its first yellow newspaper. He was given to the use of startling headlines on occasions. Once the top line of the heading over a story of a hanging read: "Jerked to Jesus." Storey was an anti-abolitionist during the Civil War and on several occasions threats were made to suppress his newspaper, but he was fearless, and in 1869 the Chicago Times had the largest circu lation among the local newspapers. Storey was horse whipped for a re view written by one of his hired men. (In those days dramatic critics did not sign their articles, and when there were no new plays to write about they were assigned to other work.) Read ing the review after a lapse of 58 years, it seems very mild indeed. If the sensitive and temperamental Lydia Thompson were living today I fear she might feel impelled to thrash the big bosses of Ashton Stevens, Fred Donaghey, Amy Leslie and the others every time her show did not please. Lydia Thompson and her troupe of British Blondes, forty in number and all wearing tights, came to town No vember 22, 1869, and opened what was intended to be a two weeks1 en gagement at Cros by's Opera House, on the north side of Washington street, between State and Dearborn. The opening bill was "Sinbad, the Sail' ¦ ; or." The billing read: "The widely celebrated Lydia Thompson and her troupe of British Blondes, Direct from London." The company came to Chicago from New York, where it had played with great success for nearly a year. Among the principals were Lydia Thompson, Pau line Markham, Edith Bland, Eliza Weatherby, Fanny Clarmont and Ellen Lewis. Eliza Weatherby will be remembered as the first wife of Nat Goodwin, matrimonial ace of the stage. Harry Beckett was the comedian. Chicago eagerly awaited their ar rival and packed the theatre on the opening night. The next morning the Chicago Times published a lengthy and unfavorable criticism of the perform ance, which, among other things, probably contained this city's first re corded complaint that the company was not the "original New York cast." The criticism which caused all the trouble, read in part as follows: "Having tickled the tastes of the easily pleased amusement seekers of New York for the better part of a year, and having exhibited in the face of an almost endless amount of min gled laudation and abuse in other prominent eastern cities, the managers of the simon pure company of English blondes have ventured to cast their destinies for a fortnight in Chicago. It is evident that this is a mere skele ton of the original company seen in New York and other eastern cities and that the parts of minor importance have been entrusted to local girls, un trained and awkward. We sincerely trust that visitors from out of town will not be deceived into believing that these local extras fairly represent the standard of Chicago's feminine beauty. "As to the audience, the male ele ment largely predominated, the greater portion of the men present being par ticularly noticeable for the gorgeous- ness of their handkerchiefs, brilliancy of their vest patterns and otherwise generally loud appearance. It is the kind of performance that has its ad mirers and, from the gambler down to the meanest of the gallery gods, there are those who will be enraptured by the frisky doings. "Of the troupe Miss Lydia Thomp son, its namesake, is the ruling attrac tion. She is a good looking, natural blonde of medium height and sym metrical figure. Her acting showed an evident desire to please as much as possible by legitimate means, but it was plain that force of habit has car ried her irretrievably into the aban don line. It is to be regretted that circumstances should have forced her into the position which she now oc cupies, Queen of the leg drama. Miss Pauline Markham has evidendy mis taken wantonness for abandon. "It must be remembered that the bulk of the merit, if merit it can be called, is found in the artistic exhibi tion of female limbs." The next day Miss Thompson pur chased a black snake whip and started on the war path with blood in her big blue eyes. I will permit Bernard A. McDonnell, a retired railway offi cial who I believe is the only living eye witness of the affair, to give the details of the thrilling incident: "I was 12 years old and on my way home from school between four and five in the afternoon when at Wabash Avenue and Eldridge court, (now 9th street) I was hailed by a man with 4 strong cockney accent who stepped out of a closed carriage and asked me where Mr. Storey lived," says Mr McDonnell. "I pointed out the Storey residence, a short distance away, and as I did so another carriage rolled up and a man stepped out. * recognized Storey and told the man. He went back to his carriage and im mediately Lydia Thompson stepped out. She was a beautiful woman, dressed in the height of fashion, and wore a long sealskin coat which reached to her ankles. She heW something in her hands which she hid behind her back. She walked up to Storey and asked: 'Is this M*; Storey, editor of the Chicago Tt»*-7 He replied: Tt is, madam, what can I do for you?' "The woman raised the whip in ** air and brought it down acfl** Storey's face (Turn to page 24) TWC CHICAGOAN 13 JOURNALISTIC JOURNEYS "When Writing to Advertisers — " 6ENE TUNNEY, World Champion Middle Distance Boxer. Be a Tunney Gorillas Are So Common Wttbout Permission of Evening American Co. There is a lesson in these two pic tures one of which is a gorilla the y££Zj*LGene Tunney the gorilla could UCK Gene Tunney and a MILLION like him but it couldn't build an aero plane Gene Tunney couldn't build an aeroplane neither could bear children the GREAT thing after all Nancy Hanks was a mother Helen of Troy was not a mother neither could build an aeroplane Marie Antionette killed a king in his bath in those days only a one could afford a bath now any man 8ffKLJ&.«ki,led in his bath this is PROGRESS but an aeroplane could tall a MILLION men even without baths Hindoos bathe every year in the Ganges they believe in Nirvana or the great Void our readers know this is FOOLISH Hindoos cannot build aero planes but they will learn any minute now and then CONGRESS, HELP LESS without aeroplanes will have to Bit back and watch them bathe in the Mississippi floods are a terrible thing a hundred years from now our children will live in buildings so tall no flood ^,r,e25h them build MORE buildings !H!H!v£!?£e Gildings build more ?KJfe^J?SS show this l° some JAZZ-MAD, GIN-CRAZED young man you know who FOOLISHLY wants to be a GORILLA. —JACK DUNN. THE BUILTDOWN MAN, Who Foolishly Wanted to be a Gorilla. SPEAKING of journalism, never overlook the ads. They are a boon to mankind. No matter how dull your paper of a morning or your magazine, you are bound to find enough word stimulant in the paid for space to chase your blues away. It's about time the praises of the ad writers were more gen' erally sung throughout the land. They deserve paeans from the housetops. They have done and are doing more to lighten the cares of this troubled old sphere than all the stage and screen comedians put together. With but a few notable and sinister exceptions, no advertisement has yet been written which failed to give the reader a cer' tain sense of well being, a rosy glow attendant upon a spiritual patting of one's back, so to speak, but more often all of this plus the best sort of enter' tainment. Given a dictionary or a thesaurus, there is positively no limit to the heights an imaginative ad writer may soar. If you'll but take the time you can make a dozen such flights every day and get therefrom not a few honest snickers in the bargain. Par ticularly recommended are the daily full and half-page spreads of the big department stores and more exclusive apparel shops. When the announce ment creators for these establishments get going the result is — well, I call it language! With what ebullience, for instance, the inspired ad writer for Stevens' store must have set down these zippy phrases, beginning with the neat cap tion: "Stevens' Shoes Step Into Au tumn Chic." "Feet that reflect the vivacity — the thrilling activity of the autumn season, are the feet for which Stevens' foot wear is created!" Just imagine, if you can, such feet, And if this has whetted your thoughts of snappy fall atmosphere, turn the page and fondle in your mind or on your tongue these word gems from the Mandel Brothers' layout: "The fall collections flash and gleam with a brilliance unknown in recent years . . . ensembles which will glitter in prismatic splendor throughout the season." Dazzling as a klieg light, what? And then up in one corner you might notice this cheery little paragraph, just oozing good nature and not without its origi nal word pattern: "Here is one little bit of compensat ing pleasure for the hostess who has checked her china cupboard and found it wanting. All Ovington china and all Ovington crystal can be snared in September at discounts that dovetail to a nicety with the most exacting of economy's precepts." Sounds like great sport, that snaring the dovetail business. But you haven't heard the half, really. Here's one, now, that strikes a new note in adver tising naivete, confessed by a publicist for Rothchild's: "We've got lots of Stetsons at $8 and they're wonderful hats, but the new gold medal quality is so wonder ful that everyone seems only too glad to buy them at $10." There is at least, it seems to me, something wonderful about that. An- other ad presented by the same store illustrates the literate versatility of its announcement staff. It is a short brief in behalf of London Dew Coats, as follows: "Rakish, easy sweeping raglans — bright moorland colors — it's exactly the sort of coat you see racing about in smart motors all over England. You'll be glad to know they're wind, rain and storm proof." Glad isn't the word. I was fairly overjoyed. It may have been this jocund mood that contributed to my rapture upon finding this priceless jewel of composition in a corner of the next page: "They laughed when I sat down at the piano, but when 1 started to play — !!! I gave them the surprise of their lives. I started to play. In stantly a tense silence fell on the guests. ... I heard gasps of amaze ment. My friends sat breathless — spellbound. I played on. . . . You, too, can, etc." When you stop to think it over, there is really no commodity, no art no branch of human endeavor yet un- exploited by the ad writers. If you believe them, and why not, there is slim excuse for pessimism in this world. What a beatific tone of sheer optimism arises every day, everywhere, from printed advertisements. Proof, if proof were needed, is wait ing any sceptic who will take the trouble to glance through any single issue of the Saturday Evening Post, Liberty, Vogue, Harper's Bazar and the rest. Each week, or each month, 14 TWECWICACOAN "They tell me the nezv rector's doing1 very well." "Yes, I understand he gets more let ters than Lee Sims." as the case may be, these journals pre sent a kaleidoscopic parade of gleam ing motor cars, household goods, re- splendant in riotious colors, beautiful women in ravishing raiment, bronzed Apollos, strutting the mode — and all to enhance an amazing symphony of word accompaniment. What a titillat ing joy for gourmets is contained be tween magazine covers! Under tanta lizing color pictures they learn that "Heinz baked beans are nearly burst ing open with goodness — every golden brown bean sending up a flood of delicious odors you can't resist," and a few pages further on, "The greatest food in all the world is Grape Nuts." Best of all, one finds quite often in the polychromatic parade an expression of thought as valued as this: "One day she consulted her mer chant plumber. In a short time he wrought a complete transformation. Gleaming new faucets and fittings. The bathroom is now a place of invit ing beauty. She is proud of it . . . wants her friends to see it. Her whole home has taken on new grace and tone. Now she is the charming hostess who welcomes guests!" Just snaffle that, if you please. — JOSEPH DUG AN. Backgrounds By One Who Knew Them When— William J. Moxley drove a team of mules attached to a truck delivering butterine on the west side. ? Tom Hoyne wrote sports for the Chicago Journal and one year picked the American Derby at old Washing ton Park, one, two, three. ? Frank Vanderlip was financial editor of The Chicago Tribune before he became an official of one of the big gest banks in New York City. ? Will Payne was a reporter on The Chicago Daily J^ews before he began writing for magazines. ? Floyd Dell was literary editor of the Chicago Evening Post before he began writing novels. ? Cliff Heathcote of the Cubs con ducted a butter and egg store in York, Pa., before becoming a professional ball player. Charles V. Barrett, member of the Cook County Board of Review, bagan his political career as a deputy coroner. ? Jack Lait attended the Lewis In stitute on the west side, where he studied blacksmithing. After gradu ating he promptly put aside the sledge for the typewriter. ? Judge Marcus Kavanaugh came here from Des Moines, Iowa, and be came colonel of the seventh regiment of the Illinois National Guard before donning the judicial ermine 25 years Hack Wilson worked in a West Virginia coal mine before he became the star home run batter for the Cubs. ? Arthur Cutten was employed as a settling clerk by a board of trade firm before he went in business for himself and became one of the most spectacular plungers in the wheat pit ? Robert E. Cantwell was an A. D. T. messenger boy before he became a great criminal lawyer. ? Alexander H. Revell ran a sec ond-hand furniture store on Wells near Lake street. ? Vice-President Charles G. Dawes practiced law in Lincoln, Neb.. before coming to Chicago to establish the Central Trust Co., of Illinois. Poetic Acceptances e. e. cummings accents donald ogden Stewarts invitation to go apartment hunting we shall search for those invisible apartments situated on little-trodden streets and poise our illustrious selves amid sad-eyed janitors and dead beautiful ladies a delicate supression of thoughts will be made by real estate men with hurt looks and all too small sedans when we refuse their proffered charms each will be a moment of rare enter* tainment i accept your peculiar invitation with genuine appreciation and archaic wistfulness. — DONALD PLANT. TMECI4ICAG0AN 15 IT has been proved more than once that once tnat man cannot live on air. More over, even air is not free except at filling stations. A man learns what a costly commodity it is when he tries to rent an airy apartment. At current rates the air wafted through a flat bordering on the lake costs about ten dollars a roomful per day. If the room has also a glimpse of Michigan's blue waters the price is about fifty cents per square inch of seascape on a two years' lease. However, these philanthropists, the real tors, who are trying to make Chicago safe for the man with a yearning to have a home of his own, are busily engaged in explaining how it is possible for a man to own an apartment that he could scarcely afford to rent. These real estate men can show an apartment which sells for $10,- 000. The monthly maintenance charge is estimated at $200. Figuring the income on the $10,000 at six per cent if otherwise invested, the man who buys an apartment virtually pays $250 a month for it. The monthly rental price of the same apart ment is fixed at $350, showing a clear sav ing of $100 a month. Figure it out for yourself or ask the man who builds one- he knows. At any rate, for some reason people are buying apartments, if not as fast as hot cakes, at least faster than they used to buy private residences. Co-operative apart ment building is in its infancy, but what a big, bouncing, assertive infant it is, one which has almost outstripped its flapper sister, the still pushing and forward apart ment hotel. A number of schemes of co-operative ownership have been worked out in Chicago, New York and other large cities. In the main, co-operatives fall into two classifica tions: the semi-co-operative and the one hundred per cent building. Under the first mentioned, only a fraction of the total number of apartments are sold. The rest are rented. The number of rented apartments is usually about two thirds of the total, or is supposed to be adequate to produce a revenue sufficient to pay taxes, interest on the loan and running expenses, with a surplus going into a fund with which to reduce the mortgage. In some cases this plan has operated so successfully that owners have found themselves in the almost miraculous position of occupying handsome apartments virtually rent-free. Such a situation may arise during a period of increasing rents and housing shortage. When the curve begins to run down hill the semi-co-operative apartment is apt to become decidedly speculative. The hundred per cent plan, on the other hand, offers no pot of golden profits, but neither does it make its shareholders walk the floor at night with the crying need of tenants to fill vacant apartments. A somewhat different scheme worked out by one Chi cago operator may best be explained by considering one building now nearing completion. This building contains fifty apartments of from six to ten rooms. The man who Home Suite Home III. The Little Matter of Money Apartments a la carte wishes an apartment pays $6,500 for his equity, which is a fiftieth of the value of grounds and building. He is given a yearly, self -renewing lease on one apartment for which he pays a monthly assessment ranging from $105 to $190, depending upon the number of rooms and their location in the building. One of the chief advantages attributed to this plan is an increase in the ability of the co-owners to keep the building one hundred per cent pure. In other words, this plan provides for the exclusion of undesirable occupants not only through sale or sub-renting, but also by inheritance. A man may be queath his equity to whomsoever he chooses, but his equity is only an unde- scribed fiftieth part of the building and grounds and not the specific apartment of which he is lessee. For that reason a son who, for example, plays the saxophone, may be denied an apartment by other owners who have a penchant for peace. He may, however, collect rent on an apart ment from any tenant who passes the board of censors. That may prove to be a good invest ment. In some instances co-operative apartments have been bought for invest ment purposes by persons intending not to live in the building, but to sub-rent for profit. If they can rent the apartment for the amount determined by the promoters of the building and pay no more for up keep than was originally estimated, this investment should yield a better return than a real estate bond, and afford more excitement. In addition to the income which such an investment should earn, it has the further charm of the possibility of resale at a profit. All of which may afford pleasure to the man who can afford to put his money into a thing not proved by any great length of time, but is not so good from the point of view of the other owners in the building. The obvious reason is that an occupant who has no financial share in the building cannot be expected to be as inter ested in the good of the entire project as the occupant who is also an owner. The buyer of an automobile gives consideration to the resale value of his purchase. A man who builds a house builds not only for himself but, if he is canny, with a view to the building's value to a future buyer. With the exception of commodities purchased from the grocer, tobacconist or bootlegger for immediate consumption, almost everything has its re-sale problem. It is by no means insoluble in the case of the co-operative apartment. The co-operative buyer has not taken an irrevocable step. In fact, selling his holdings is in some ways easier than selling an independent piece of real estate. The title is guaranteed by a title insurance company. Account books are usually kept by a responsible trust company. A trans fer of ownership is accomplished by merely endorsing a stock certificate. That, of course, implies (Turn to page 29) 16 TUE CHICAGOAN Oasis TMCCI4ICAG0AN 17 CHICAGOAN/ IOE prepared for college at Groton where you are entered V-'cXptaln before your are born. Paradoxical as this may sound, so exclusive is the prep school which turns out J. P. Morgans and others of the financial and social elite. Then, with one summer spent in Wyoming and Texas routing cattle-rustlers, he went to Yale. During one summer vacation he sneaked off to China to act as a war correspondent at the Boxer uprising. This and the cowboy apprenticeship were of value not only during his undergraduate years, but afterward for they gave him a perspective denied most of his classmates. His career at Yale was not particularly colorful. He rowed on his class crew but failed to find a seat in the varsity shell, even though a classmate at Groton and Yale of the late Gordon Brown, nephew of J. P. Morgan and mem ber of both the varsity eleven and crew. Because of his forebears— and his own per sonality — Joe made a Sophmore society. That led inevitably into a Junior fraternity, Alpha Delta Phi, and not so inevitably into one of the much coveted Senior societies, Scroll and Key. It was characteristic of Joe that on grad uation he did not return at once to the paternal shelter of The Chicago Tribune, founded by his grandfather, Joseph Medill, and carried on by the second generation in the person of his father, Robert Wilson Patterson, as editor and publisher. No, he had to tarry for a while as a reporter on William Ran dolph Hearst's ?iew Tor\ Evening Journal. With this training Joe went onto the Chicago newspaper bible, the ancestral Tribune, in the humble role of reporter. This was not for long. He soon became assistant Sun day editor, but father discovered that his youthful heir was getting out a section that showed unmistakably the Hearst-ian influence, an influence inconsistent with the Medill-Patterson traditions. It was felt he would have less opportunity to give vent on the editorial pages to these iconoclastic ideas so to the editorial department the youthful, college graduate was shunted. The job of edi torial writer and assistant editor he held until 1905, with the exception of one year. In 1903 he was a member of the somewhat august Illinois House of Representatives, being the youngest member of that body. He did his best to make it less august and succeeded when he led a riot in which flying ink stands, desks, chairs and anything else that could be hurled played an important part. The speaker of the House fled and a bill giving Chicago mu nicipal street railway ownership, the raison d'etre of the rumpus, went through. If not a good parliamentarian, Joe had proved at least to be a good rough-and-tumble legislative fighter. He re turned to the Tribune to stage a fight in his family baili wick on account of his own political beliefs. Returning as assistant editorial superintendent, he became, during his P.. cr\r> father's nine months' absence in oTierSOn Europe, sole director of the editorial policy of the paper. Edward F. Dunne had been nominated for mayor. Joe approved and so did the Tribune, speaking for him but not for the family. It made no difference that Dunne was a Democrat and the Tribune a staunch Republican organ. But on the return of his father from Europe Joe was made to see that he had better do his campaigning for Dunne and municipal ownership elsewhere than on the editorial page of the Tribune. It was not A. W. O. L., but with permission. Joe resigned and stumped for Dunne. The latter, on becoming mayor, rewarded his unexpected ally from the enemy's citadel by making him Commissioner of Public Works. This job he held in 1905-6, but the Philistines were too much for him. All the public service corporations were trying to rob the city — according to the new commissioner. So after a year in Dunne's cabinet Sir Gal ahad resigned. Socialism seemed the panacea for the ills Joe had encountered in the body politic since his Yale days, so into Socialism he plunged. He edited Chicago's first Social' ist daily and stumped for the party candi' dates, local and national. But even here he failed of contentment and so foresook Socialism to go back to the land in his quest of the golden girl of real, soul-satisfy- _ ing success. A migration to the Agricul' tural college at Madison, Wisconsin, with his own immedi ate family accompanying him, logically followed. Not con tent to be a gentleman farmer and despairing of ever be coming a dirt farmer, Joe decided that this was not what he was seeking. About this time came a reconciliation and return to the Tribune in 1909. Then he became chair man of the board and secretary of the paper in 1912 and held those positions until 1915. Since 1914 he has been co-editor and co-publisher. It was in the latter year that he decided he could not only hold down those jobs, rather a man's sized task in themselves, but also stick his nose into the world war as a correspondent. With his credentials it was easy for him to get into Belgium and Germany. His viewpoint being regarded as decidedly pro-German, he was arrested when he was in allied territory, but nothing ever came of it ex cept the accusation by Henry Ford in a libel suit against Patterson and the Tribune that both were disloyal. They proved that they were not so much pro-German as anti- British not such a heinous offence except at Newport, Southampton and Lenox. Anyway, Joe was released and did some war reporting in France before he came home in 1915. When the powers that be at Washington decided that Madero's death in Mexico justified our trying to break into the front pages with a little war of our own — up to then the European holocaust had monopolized the atten- 18 TUECUICAGOAN tion of readers — Joseph Medill Patter son was "among those present." As a corporal he departed for Mexico with an Illinois Field Artillery unit. So successful was he in the role, and in fighting the Mexican equivalent of cooties, that he came back a full-fledged sergeant. This was to stand him in mighty good stead, because two years later his military training gave him a lieutenancy in the Rainbow Division when that multi-colored body went overseas. Joe was with the Illinois Field Artillery, that boasted of a de cidedly Chicago Tribune tinge because editors, copy boys, pressmen, composi tors and others from the plant figured conspicuously in the unit. One of Joe's cousins, Robert Rutherford McCor- mick, who had gone to the Texas bor der as a major, also served in Europe as a member of Pershing's staff and afterward as Lieutenant-Colonel and Colonel of artillery units. He had become treasurer of the Tribune about the time of the return of the prodigal son as secretary. He is president of The Chicago Tribune Company today and has been for many years. Joe did quite well in France and came back a captain. He made the mistake, after the armistice, of visiting Lord Northcliffe in London. The lat ter showed what he had done with his tabloid, The Daily Mirror, and Joe de cided to do likewise by the United States. Hence the Daily 7<[ews in New York. If Joe thought he was getting next to the masses in his Socialistic days he certainly was doing so more than ever now with his picture newspaper. Not only did he succeed in sending its circulation up among the leaders in daily papers, but he inspired Cornelius "But why move into such an ugly building?" "Angeline, dear, we had to be in the neighborhood — and if we didn't move into it zve'd have to look at it!" Vanderbilt, Jr., to lose several paternal millions with his tabloids in Miami, San Francisco and Los Angeles. And that was not all. Hearst tried to get back the circulation the Chicago in vader had stolen from him by starting his own abbreviated pictorial, The Mirror, and Bernard MacFadden shared with his magazines extolling a vegetable diet and bulging muscles his directorial genius in The Graphic. The days of yellow journalism had returned with a vengeance. Chicago had the laugh on New York and still has, for it was one of the owners and publish ers of the staid and highly respected Tribune of that city who was respon sible for the infliction of the tabloid pest on New! York — and on the rest of the country. Incidently, it is rumored that the mothers of Messrs. Patterson and Mc- Cormick — for cousin Robert is one of the owners and managers of the Daily J^ews — who really own and control The Chicago Tribune will not permit the little upstart tabloid step-brother of the highly respectable mid-west bible across their respective thresholds. And yet it is a big money maker for them and their sons. Joe has many other things to his credit besides his newspaper career, legislative and municipal office-holding and war performances. He married Florence Higginbotham, the prettiest girl of Springfield, 111., and afterwards one of the beauties of Chicago. He upset society by writing "The Little Brother of the Rich," in which he pil loried both society and the stage as he knew them. "Rebellion" pretested against the Catholic church's refusal to recognize divorce. That created a stir, too. Both of these were afterwards dramatized with little success. "The Fourth Estate," an excellent play on newspapers, was a collaboration with Harriet Ford and Jim Keely, one of the best city editors of Chicago. "Dope" was a narcotic expose vaude ville sketch by the versatile Joseph, he of many mental colors. Add to the list the magazine Liberty, intended as a competitor of The Satur day Evening Post and Collier's, and you will gather some idea of the ambi' tion and restlessness of Joseph Medill Patterson. Joe is no absentee land lord or publisher-editor, but in charge in person of the newspaper or maga zine he is trying to put over. Each represents the dynamic personality of the man himself. He is known to guess wrong often in his magazine policies but he is willing to pay for the mis takes. And even if you disagree with the kind of newspaper which The Daily T^ews is, with its obviously moronic appeal, you have to hand it to the man who could come into New York into a field already overcrowded with newspapers and create a place for a new one of a new type and secure a circulation at once the envy and despair of the old style publishers. — PAUL THOMPSON. HUH I TMCCMICAGOAN 19 Alco-Analysis II. For the Modern Home [Note : This Series of Articles, Enlightening Consumer and Distributor Against Sundry Trade Evils Outlined in the First Installment, Began in the September 24 Issue. The Author's Insistence Upon Ano nymity Is Condoned for the Good of the Cause.] NOW that we have the mechanical and chemical accessories duly in stalled in our garret or basement laboratory, we can proceed immediately to the merry, if somewhat messy, busi ness in hand. I assume, of course, that my clearly stated arguments against analyses of all and sundry kinds, un graceful and uncomplimentary reflec tion upon the buyer-seller relationship, have been agreed with and that we shall not totally suspend consumption pending completion of our tests. What with the hotel trade practically at a standstill since the fight, which precipitated an over-supply propor tionate to that of ten and fifteen dollar seats, such a course would be disas trous to many of our most dependable distributors and I should never be for given. We proceed, then, to the tests. The tests which I will explain are nine in number. They follow, in the order in which they should be made. 1. Test for wood alcohol. 2. Test for heavy metals. 3. Test for Acetone. 4. Test for Phenols (of the Carbolic Acid group). f. Test for Aldehydes — CH COOH— Acetic Acids. CH COH— Acet-Aldehyde. 6. Test for Esters (fragrance) passed. 7. Test for Formaldehyde. 8. Test for Amyl (or Fusel-oil). 9. Test for barrel storage. These tests are, of course, only a few of many. They have been worked out and chosen because they are the most modern known, and the simplest. The test for Esters, which will not be given, is not only unnecessary, but is as complicated as all the rest put together. Now for the actual work. Take about a pint of the product you want to test. Your first test is for wood alcohol. (In the following the letters C. C. are to mean Cubic Centimeter.) Take 10 C. C. of product to be tested. Dilute this with 40 C. C. of distilled water. Take 5 C.C. of this and add 2 C. C. of KMn04, or Potassium Permanganate. Add to this mixture "I see Mrs. McCormick is back in town." "Yes, I know." 3 C. C. of concentrated Sulphuric Acid (H,S04), and allow mixture to stand 5 minutes. In this length of time, if there is a Methyl, or wood alcohol, a precipitate of Manganese Dioxide (MnO,,) will occur. (This you will be unable to tell, unless you are a chemist, so keep right on going.) Now dissolve the precipitate by the addi tion of Sulphurous Acid (H,S03), drop by drop, agitating it as you do so. Six or seven drops are sufficient. Next add 1 C. C. of H.SO, (con centrated Sulphuric Acid), and 5 C. C. of Fuchsin Sulphurous acid test solution. (The one ounce you bought will be sufficient for two or more tests.) After the mixture has stood for ten minutes, a colorless liquid should result, indicating there is no wood alcohol. With this important discovery in the basket- — and it is important— there are but eight more strictly necessary tests to be made before vigilance may be relaxed and the product attacked with a fair degree of assurance. (Note: A limited number of copies of the issue containing the first installment of this series are avail able and may be obtained directly by order by interested readers at no advance over the news stand price.) The Prescribed Accessories Antiques Nothing Personal ONCE upon a time a mother of a family went forth to buy vege tables for dinner and came home with a Sheffield candlestick instead. When she went forth on another day to buy a new blue ensemble suit and came back cherishing under her arm a blue Ming bowl, her family began to won der, and she went out the following day to look for kitchen linoleum and returned triumphantly bringing a Chippendale bench with a wobbly leg, things began to look bad. All of which merely proves that Chi cago is full of pitfalls for a weak- willed woman, with a sense of the artistic — the pitfalls being Antique Shops — but the fallen one's aren't al ways weak-willed, or even women. It would take more than a strong- minded man to resist the alluring com fort of a bronzy red leather Chippen dale easy chair, at Quigley's or the fascination of the eighteenth century drum table, whose top is a chess board of rare inlaid woods, which was shown in Mrs. Somerset Maugham's collection. One would expect to find men inter ested in a famous gun collection now on sale in a dingy shop on North Clark Street, or in a carved pipe of gleaming old wood in the old Yoke Shop on Rush Street. It would be excusable for perfectly sane women to go a little insane over the old Yoke's display of Russian royal jewelry, or the collection at Vogue of other crown jewels of pre-Bolshevik vintage, or old French glass exhibited in a great Queen Anne chest ($1,800), at Burley's, or a grace ful, beautifully formed secretary (wooden) at Watson and Boalers. Such antiques are beautiful in them selves, desirable and excusable. But antiquitis is a disease, which, when chronic, is likely to produce alarming and disquieting symptoms. The same aforementioned mother-of- the-family had a serious attack and the result was a new apartment fur nished in 18th Century English, with variations. Some of it was attractive and livable, and some of it, as her husband put it, was a damn nuisance. Even before the bills came, he longed for good old Grand Rapids period. He particularly railed against a Hepplewhite chair upon which you could not sit, owing to its delicate condition, the same having suffered successfully from rickets, bandy-legs 20 TI4ECMICAGOAN and pernicious anaemia; a Queen Anne chair, also not to be used for sitting purposes, and an old English wing chair covered with a peasant skirt, which was obviously meant to cover peasants, not wing chairs; a 15th century Span ish bowl which didn't hold water, due to a crack which had been getting larger steadily for the last four cen turies; the aforementioned Ming bowl placed to be used as an ash receiver, which, when used as such, occasioned a black spot on the Ming glaze and a black frown from the hostess; old andirons from Hoops which wouldn't hold logs; a pewter pitcher from the Ho-Ho Shop which was ruined by a conscientious maid and silver polish; the service plates from Napoleon's ban quet set, to use which gave the diners nervous indigestion and the waitress palsy, and most particularly the Chip pendale breakfast table, which became spotted every time water was poured, or even when speech became vehement at the table. Really, he found little joy in his new old home. He hated the antiques his wife had bought. He hated all antiques, in fact. He'd be darned if he could see any use in junk just because it was old. And then one evening he went forth alone for a walk after dinner, osten sibly to buy a newspaper, and returned with the newspaper under an arm, a wide grin on his face and in his pocket a handleless, cracked, syrup pitcher of copper lustre, with a price tag saying "Antique lustre — from famous collec tion, $125.00." — RUTH FRANK. Newsprint The Comic Competition SOME day one of the Chicago after noon papers is going to put out a Sunday morning edition with exactly the same form and content as its daily efforts. That day the beginning of the end of the atrocity known as the Sunday paper will be in sight. A patient population is long suffer ing, but it is almost too much to ask the head of the house to lug in two and a half pounds of newsprint on the Sabbath, spend precious minutes try ing to fish out the one or two sections he is interested in, and then cart the balance to the basement. Good gray matter has been long wasted trying to figure out a use for discarded safety razor blades. If blades were permitted to accumulate for three years, they could not present the prob- "What's the big news, Townscnd? Another flier down?" "No — but there's a rumor Skeezix is going to be kidnapped again, amd Pal hasn't been in the strip for a week." lem that unwanted pages of the Sun day paper create every seventh day. Pointing to circulation figures as a defense of this weekly imposition is an idle gesture. The newspaper has be come a public utility. If all elevated lines tripled their prices Sundays and made people climb three hurdles to reach a train, they would still carry passengers. And if, in addition, Mr. Insull gave away eight pages of comics with every fare, ninety per cent of the parents of the community would be brow-beaten by their heirs into pass ing through the turnstiles. Since the beginning of time the Sunday paper has centered around the colored comic section. Take it away and circulation figures would probably drop fifty per cent. In his battle with The Chicago Tribune for Sunday su premacy, Hearst at various times has hired almost every writer of note — paid fabulous sums for exclusive publi cation rights to important documents, diaries, and autobiographies — offered an array of literary contributions un excelled by our best national maga zines. The Trib was undisturbed. It sat tight. But when some genius in the Hearst organization sprang the coup de main of increasing the number of pages in the colored Comic Section from four to eight, there was panic on the World's Greatest until it, too, had provided eight funny pages for the edification of young Chicago. If memory serves correctly, Hearst then went to twelve pages of comics, but later retreated to eight. No ex planation is recalled, but the prob ability is that a committee of fathers, who each Sunday have to read these comics to their children, called on the two newspaper offices with a sugges tion of rope or tar, and the editors agreed to limit their armament to eight pages. Fathers, undoubtedly, resented their work being doubled; when it was tripled, their desperation suggested violence. As long as we have the Sundays with us, the thousands who have fished out the news and sport sections will probably be interested in a brief summary of the balance. The Trib offers from eight to twelve or sixteen pages of excellent rotogra- vure. Its drama section contains a col' umn by H. L. Mencken each week, surprisingly entertaining at times. Burns Mantle provides the weekly re view of New York theatrical offerings. Altogether the edition runs about 160 pages. The Herald' Examiner can be sifted nearly as easily. Its March of Events Section is well worth glancing at for interesting material. Recently, it be* gan The Life and Letters of Woodrow Wilson, by Ray Stannard Baker. Wal- lace Irwin, W. C. Witwer, Montague Glass, Don Marquis and Walter Davenport form a typical lineup of contributors. And occasionally a real headliner appears. Its other distinc tive feature is The American Weekly, a survival of a section which years ago was found in every Sunday paper. You pronounce it either terrible or interesting. The rest of both papers go to make up poundage. The late Tom Marshall would probably have become just as famous had he said: "What Chicago needs is a good three-cent Sunday paper." — EZRA. Pointer For Motorists Abroad THE traveling man understood the town he was approaching was tough. Being a rather timid sort of gentleman in the matter of fistic en* counters, he was dubious about en tering the town. However, an idea struck him. Stopping a few miles from the village limits, he took a piece of iron about the size of a lead pencil and pounded several holes in the sides of the car. Upon his entry to the diminutive metropolis he was ques tioned as to his origin, to which he replied, "From Chicago, an' dem bullet holes ya see in that car are birthmarks.'* Business was good, thank you. —EL CHIQUITO. TWECWICAGOAN 21 THOSE black browed twins, Litiga tion and Trouble, overtook Hoo ley's when the owner died. But the man ager, Harry J. Powers, who had spent years with Mr. Hooley, carried out the famous owner's desire and obtained the theatre. Barred from calling it Hoo ley's, Mr. Powers (who now signs pay checks at the Blackstone) named it The Powers and as such the younger gen eration knew it. Then came a new period of greatness. The elder Sothern, Fanny Daven port, Henry E. Dixey as Adonis, Wil liam Gillette taking Chicago by storm in "Secret Service," De Wolf Hopper, all conquered. Duse, however, brought the house a financial loss. But "Charley's Aunt" arriving in May, 1894, ran all summer — fifteen weeks, a new record for the decade. "The Gay Parisiennes" lasted thir teen weeks in 1896. Mrs. Leslie Carter in "The Heart of Maryland," James K. Hackett in his own "Hearts of Oak,"— Maude Adams — Marlowe— Eddie Foy in "Over the Garden Wall" — how their memories charm the minds of our elders! The Academy of Music is another theatre of colorful history and fortu nately one of its former managers is still with us. He is William "Billy" Roche, for forty years active in Chi cago theatrical circles and now manager of the Harris. I am indebted to him for some of the memoirs, especially those that follow. The Academy was built in 1863 Roche became its manager in 1887 and in 1890 he also opened the Alhambra, at 19th and State, which was to show better productions than its location might indicate. It was the Academy that welcomed "The Black Crook" and "The Devil's Auction" — extravaganzas of high order with a touch of the mys tery play. "The Black Crook" was mentioned with bated breath — the ladies in it wore tights! It was con demned mightily from the pulpit and drew big houses. Hanlan's "Super Fantasia" was an other famous one, and in 1890 the city rushed to see "Shenandoah." Thev came just as readily to feast their eyes on Young Buffalo, the King of the Wild West, an Indian and his troop. Audiences loved "Shore Acres;" they adored "Old Kentucky." A period came when the populace insisted that their favorite heavy-weight fighters turn actors. Like our modern gladiators, these pugs of a smaller-purse Theatrics 1834-1927 [Note: Mr. Smith's History of Chicago Theatres Began in the September 10 Issue.] day were always ready to turn an hon est dollar. So "Sporting Life" and "The Naval Cadet" starred none other than "Gentleman Jim" Corbett of Chi cago, and John L. Sullivan brought his melodrama company on from Boston. Bob Fitzsimmons too became a matinee idol. And, if we may dip into the cinema for a moment, who do you suppose played for Billy Roche in the first part of this century? Why, Mary Pickford in "The Little Mother;" Bill Hart in western plays; Charley Chaplin in "Round the Clock" with Billy Richey, who is said to have taught Charlie the tricks that later delighted all the world but a wife; and Tom Meighan, a leader then in melodrama. They're getting on, these four. To mention the ever- recurrent Uncle Tom's Cabins, a special company was giving Mrs. Stowe's sure-fire one week in the nineties in Chicago at the Al hambra. The crowd came, for besides the play a colored cakewalking chorus, of a vintage before Josephine Baker but quite as snappy for its time, was added. With the week half gone and a full house each night, the Health Commissioner stepped in and took away Little Eva, who was down with the mumps. She had no understudy, and the management was in despair. At last a daring expedient was hit upon. A small colored chorine was dis covered to know the lines. She was yanked from the ranks and given a blonde wig and a white enameled countenance. Her work was perfect and even such astute observers as Hep burn Johns of The Chronicle did not perceive the substitution. But after Saturday night's perform ance came eclipse. The ladies of the audience, weeping copiously, rushed to the stage to kiss Little Eva! Of those dramatic critics who were in clover with columns galore to fill with eulogy, apparently uncurtailed with copy desk blue pencil, one still lives and does his daily stint on a Chi cago newspaper. He is James O'Don- nell Bennett? Bennett, then a young man believ ing in drama undefiled, had little use for anything but Shakespearean pro ductions. He guarded the Bard's plays zealously and when he heard that the Alhambra was to give "Romeo and Juliet" he went over, armed with sketch pads and pencils, to shrivel the show. And when he arrived his agony became unbearable. There under the lights Manager Roche had installed a Ger man band, playing its collective head off to summon the crowds to "Romeo and Juliet." Of Bennett wrote his older friend, Lyman Glover of the Times Herald: "His irresistible enthusiasm will be steadied later by judicial temper." Sam T. Jack's famous burlesque stood on the Boston Store site. He and Sid Euson ran vaudeville shows and displayed ladies of a beefier era. Good drama, says Old Timer, is lit tle seen or known now. Hokum ruled the boards then, replies emancipated youth. But Roche, speaking of pub licity methods of forty years ago, said: "You know, I use about the same stuff to bring 'em in today as I ever did. They seem to like it." —DICK SMITH. Phototypes The Broker's Clerk Why don't these storekeepers Along the Avenue Polish up their windows So a good looking guy Can see himself As he breezes past? This coat has A neat set to the shoulders And that's a fact. Trousers might be A bit wider — Might not, too. I sure know how To wear a hat Not to mention Necktie and shoes. But wait till I make A killing on LaSalle Street! — JOHN matter. 22 TI4ECI4ICAGQAN Wallace Ford, as the leading "hoofer" in Broadway, now on view at the Oerivyn. Mr. Ford, who is refuted to have been handed the sweetest stage ftart in years, simu lates an inspiring male dancer who out of Jove for a fair entertainer makes her an honest woman and himself an honest man — at least the j>air leave the bad, baa night club as a wedded dance team. TUECMICAGOAN 23 jAl LMOST every week some well' /» intentioned citizen writes in from Winnetka or Rogers Park— or even Grant Park— to tell us that there is no more great acting in our theatres. And Old Subscriber (for such is fre quently our correspondent's non de typewriter) must be, as his name sug gests, old. He finds solace in recalling the bygone art of Richard Mansfield, and he is not above throwing in a men tion of Booth and Barrett, for good measure. Now, The Chicagoan is a young magazine. This department never heard the bronze voice of Booth, nor gazed upon the velvet tights of Barrett. This department boasts no dusty files of yellowed theatre pro grams, dating back to The Blac\ Croo\; so when somebody utters a dic tum that Oswald Dokes was a finer Hamlet than Hector Ziltsch, in 1877, we do not argue the point. Fortu nately we cannot remember beyond John Barrymore's Hamlet. (And that wasn't such a poor show, either!) Perhaps Old Subscriber is right. Possibly great acting has disappeared from our stage. We wouldn't know about that, because in all probability we never witnessed any great acting. "Great" acting, as we understand it, is the tradition that made Walker Whiteside what he is today. (What ever that is.) However, some highly capable acting may be viewed in our theatres, and at the present moment there happens to be more of it in Chi cago than in New York. But that is because the New York season is just getting under way, whereas the pur lieus of Randolph street are for the most part tenanted with good old last years Broadway hits. If Old Subscriber were to clap on his top hat, button his Prince Albert and step aboard his roller-skates, we could with no visible effort wheel him around to some entertainment huts where there is genuine acting to be seen every evening, matinees Wednes day and Saturday. Just for fun (and there is plenty of it to be had) leave us hie ourselves to the Studebaker, where the Theatre Guild mimes are playing Molnar's The Guardsman. Here is good acting in abundance— enough to fill a tent. Miss Fontanne and Mr. Lunt, play ing the two temperamental hams, pro vide adequate reason for making a pil grimage to Mrs. Instill s temple of art, and the company, man for man (in cluding Miss Helen Westley) tops a higher average in performance than The STAG E Refill/ to Old Subscriber any medicine-show that has set up its gasoline-flares on this four-corners in many a day. For a fortnight, begin ning October 17th, they will appear in S. N. Behrman's amusing comedy, The Second Man, for which that com pletely delightful young lady, Miss Margalo Gillmore, will make the long trek in a covered-wagon to our fron tier. Incidentally, how pleasant it would be if Dudley Digges could have a sizeable part in one of these plays. This gifted Irishman appears all too often as "Charles, his friend." Should Old Subscriber be further in tent upon seeing actual acting, let him accompany us to the Harris, where Miss Francine Larrimore is holding forth as the shooting-gallery mamma in "Chicago." There is a shrewd and salty performance. And just down the street twinkle the lights of Tommy, which is nothing to wave your hat about, save in the cozy and satisfying characterization of Sidney Toler, as the small town politician. Over at the Minturn Central a top-hole troupe is appearing in the ageless Colton-Maug- ham drama, Rain, and after witnessing Miss Georgie Lee Hall's performance as "Sadie Thompson" the chances are that Old Subscriber will not page Miss Jeanne Eagels. It is difficult to imagine a more deft and sharp-edged portrayal of this plump role than Miss Hall achieves. Yet she is inordinately mod est about her success in it, after play ing it for an entire season in the capi tals not visited by Miss Eagels. "Any Well — why not? actress with ordinary intelligence and a Lucky Strike voice," says Miss Hall, "ought to be able to play 'Sadie.' " The Theatre Guild company in The Guardsman, Miss Larrimore in Chi cago, Miss Hall in Rain — and one or two other performances around town deserve your attention, nevertheless it is at the Selwyn that Old Subscriber (or anyone else) will find theatre ex citement at its peak. For at the Sel wyn is Broadway. Broadway was the hit of last season, it is the hit of this season, and it will be just as good next season. One act of Broadway is worth seeing all the other plays in town twice. Young Mr. Harris, the pro ducer, has turned a neat trick of cast ing, and the cast clicks like an expen sive watch. Wallace Ford's hoofer is superb; Robert Strange, as the sinister bootlegger, and Joseph King, as the tender -hearted detective, are even more than you would ask. These three parts are not so well played in New York as they are here. Which is nothing short of remarkable, considering that Chicago has the original Menominee, Mich., company. — G. M. Two Vistas Chicago, of Course 1 Late evening . . . Washington 1 ? Street, just after emerging from the darkness and rumble of the Ele vated. Consciousness of a long, nar row lane with dim blue shadows and high walls, and at the end, like a win dow opening out on a summer sunset, light . . . the slender steeple of a church. 2 The curving cup of yellow sand ? at Oak Street Beach on a late Sep tember evening ... the sky all amber and amethyst, and the lake like a great milky opal. Waves lapping . . . lap ping; foolishly like hounds drinking. And the growl of traffic ominous be yond the thick ribbon of grass. Gro tesque skyline of buildings lumped there where the land stretches itself to a point, looking black now in the eve ning. Seagulls swooping, white and grey. Easy to imagine, in the fading light, ghostly wigwams set close to the water, and silence, and the plains. — HELEN H. TORRENCE. 24 TUQ CHICAGOAN OVEKTONE/ OUR statistician has just informed us that seven of our two author ized tag days have been exhausted. ? Evanston is out after more street car lines, which is probably a lot more practical than talking a subway and getting nothing. ? Men's styles in umbrellas never change says an authority on this subject. Which cannot be said about the ownership of same. ? Add to the "Something ought to be done about this" five foot shelf, the case of the Evanston police lieutenant who locked up his friend on charges of driving an automobile while intoxi cated to prevent said friend from bet ting $5,000 on Gene Tunney. ? President Coolidge insists there is nothing to add to his famous "I do not choose" statement of last August. But what the other aspirants are worried about is whether Cal ever does any thing he does not choose to do. ? Out in Omaha a hen has laid an egg a day for 149 consecutive days, which shows what a hen can accomplish when she doesn't spend her time run ning back and forth across the con crete. ,*« "Prohibition will be a dead letter in the United States in a few years," says Clarence Darrow over in London. We are not going to get our hopes up until we find out whether Darrow snapped his suspenders when he said it. »;, According to William J. Cox, of the Sheffield Scientific school at Yale Uni versity, the average driver of a pas senger automobile in New York City will probably injure or possibly kill some one with his automobile once in six years. Now if the professor will only tell us how to recognize a driver in his sixth year. ? A rubber specialist in California has announced that his initial experiments in extracting rubber from fig trees were successful. This may revolution ize the tire and chewing gum indus tries. ? George F. Getz, local fight im- pressario, is on his way to Africa to mix it with the lions, tigers and such. There may be times when he'll think longingly of those $5.00 seats. ? Scientists of Cornell University after two years of exhaustive study an nounce the female brain is the equal of the male. Well, we're glad the decision was a draw. ? Northwestern university coeds are petitioning the dean of women to extend the "deadline" on date nights from 12:30 to 1 a. m., because on the present arrangement they don't have time to go to Chicago for a show and get back within the time prescribed. What kind of transportation do those girls use, the horse and buggy? ? The Kinkajou, Black Bottom and other intricate steps of modern dances are considered worthy of a place among athletics promoted by the Ill inois Women's Athletic Club says "The Woman. Athletic," the organiza tion magazine. We have always advo cated the gymnasium or a forty-acre lot. ? Judge Sullivan's decision in the Leiter case was 134 pages long and the lawyers said they considered it re markable for its lucidity. The rest of the city is taking their word for it. — GEORGE CLIFFORD. The Old Times A Hoary Scarehead {Begin on page 12) with all her might half a dozen times shouting: Til teach you to abuse a woman, you cowardly wretch.' "Storey attempted to seize the whip but was helpless before the attack of the infuriated woman. Mrs. Wilbur Storey opened a window and shouted, 'Use your pistol.' Policeman Herman Meyers ran up at this moment and arrested the woman, taking her to the old Armory police station at Franklin and Adams streets. She was booked on a charge of assault at the demand of Storey, but was released on bond in time to give her evening's perform ance. "The next morning her trial was held before Justice Milliken and I was one of the witnesses. The court room was packed. The hearing occupied most of the day and at the end of the proceedings she was released on pay ment of a fine of $50. "The horsewhipping incident caused the city's population to flock to the box office to buy tickets to see the woman who thrashed the great editor in public and as a result the engagement was extended to six weeks, an unprecedented run in those days. Miss Thompson was given two testimonial benefit perform ances before leaving the city to re sume the tour of the country. Lydia Thompson, a gray haired old woman in retirement, came back to Chicago for a brief visit forty years later but Storey had died and the affair was forgotten." — GEORGE COLLIER WHARTON. Superstitions Denoting Nativity That all movie stars passing through claim Chicago as their home. ? That you can always smell the stock yards when the wind comes from the southwest. ? That Hearst Square is square. ? That, despite the Chicago River bridges, Chicagoans have no sense of humor. That Lake Michigan wards off bad storms. ? That all Chicago policemen are athletes and have bass voices. ? That all bridge-tenders have scrumpy mustaches and smoke pipes. ? That the freighters and other Chi' cago River craft are carrying some' thing somewhere. —LEIGH METCALFE. TI4EO4ICAG0AN 25 I "H£ venerable tradition that a mo- I tion picture made in Europe is of necessity better than a motion picture made in Hollywood is blown to atoms by Mr. Emil Jannings in The Way of All Flesh. With the same demonstra tion, Mr. Jannings lays low the slight ly sotto voce protest of the innate American who has never quite accept ed this venerable tradition as authentic and so has held Mr. Jannings and his German colleagues to be meek bene ficiaries of a. happy isolation, if not, mdeed, plain frauds. All this is pleas ant, for Americans, for Europeans, for people who like motion pictures and for Mr. Jannings. The Way of All Flesh, as you know, if you possess an entertainment sense capable of guiding you to the right places in spite of the newspaper review ers, displays an Emil Jannings as far superior to the Jannings of Variety and The Last Laugh as the John Barrymore of Beau Brummel is superior to the Barrymore of The Beloved Rogue and The Sea Beast. It displays, also, con struction as typically European as that of Passion, and direction palpably rel ished by the no doubt slightly dubious importee, who seems immensely happy, personally and artistically, in the tre mendous unhappiness which the story thrusts upon him. The name of the director is Victor Fleming. There is more than a little reason to believe that this eminently successful demonstration of cinema universality is not an unpremeditated achievement It will be recalled that Pola Negri, brought to this country under similar circumstances and by the same produc ing organization, has been cast repeat edly in pictures of European locale- pictures which, if you observe them closely, you will see can be perfectly fitted to the foreign demand by mere substitution of captions written in Ger man, French or what have you. It is no secret that Miss Negri's pictures have continued extremely popular abroad but have declined steadily in favor on this side. It may be recalled, also, that the great furore over Variety was followed by unpretentious presen tation of a Hollywood production util izing remarkably similar story material, Ton Hever Know Women. It may not be widely known that this picture out stripped Variety in American popular ity everywhere save in half a dozen major cities. All these incidents, the Paramount Pictures Corporation figuring as the prime factor in each, combine to indi- QTie CINEMA fdr. Jannings Blasts a Tradition cate existence of a clearly defined purpose in the manufacture of The Way of All Flesh. A tradition divid ing the cinema into "foreign" and "domestic" was not without impor tance as a factor in an industry scaled to a basis of world distribution. A dividing influence of any kind was an embarrassment to a not quite generally accredited art. If Europe's greatest star could be brought to Hollywood and made, a greater one, without devia tion from the type of role and story employed for him by European pro ducers, it would be a pretty nice thing for the prestige of pictures in general and Paramount pictures in particular. It has been done and it is a pretty nice thing. The Playhouse THE Playhouse is by way of be coming an institution of the com munity and there is occasion for head- shaking all around. The sponsors of the project are smart in the better sense of that somewhat abused term. They are entertaining showmen, show men who do not leave the burden of entertainment wholly upon the pictures and the mechanical and manual ad juncts thereto. They possess a sense of humor, they are more clever than shrewd, they are selling a good sales idea and selling it well. They do not deceive you without letting you know The Weigh of All Flesh" you are being deceived and smiling with you (and at you) in unspoken agreement that entertainment is the highest form of deceit. The gentleman who writes their screen announcements is a better entertainer than may be found in all Hollywood. In the second phase of its activity, the Playhouse even has a picture worth seeing for its own sake. Secrets of the Soul is a remarkably well composed transcript of a rather orthodox Freud analysis. With the English captions supplied the German original (possibly by the same fellow who writes the an nouncements) the picture is a quite pleasant little fantasy for the uninitiate and a remarkably clear exposition of Freudian symbolism and interpretation for those who know what it's all about. And to make it "sure fire," as show folks say, the management has added a comic tag which is the best screen reading in town at this writing. How long the project can hold out is a problem. If the copy writer doesn't go stale it ought to last in definitely. It is a splendid idea and, as long as the management can keep the public from noticing the motion pictures, it should prosper. Given a few pictures like The Way of All Flesh, these people could stampede the populace and take away its last nickel. Other Pictures OTHER pictures seen during the fortnight are: Swim Girl Swim, another of Bebe Daniels' college series, Gertrude Ederle assisting in the aquatic exercises. Not so much. After Midnight, the least of Norma Shearer's recent efforts, in which a night club girl and a boy burglar bare hearts of gold as per prescription. Topsy and Eva, the Duncan Sisters kidding "Uncle Tom's Cabin" and get ting laughs from people who don't care what they're doing so long as they're the Duncans. Otherwise terrible. Fireman Save My Child, a slightly lewd and more slightly funny Wallace Beery-Raymond Hatton slapstick. (A practical exoneration of Beery.) What Price Glory, the only picture in town (if it's still here) worth seeing a second time. — W. R. WEAVER. 26 TMECWICAGOAN The Fisticuff Problem If you ask us, we haven't decided whether to save up and make the trip to New York next fall for the next Dempsey-Tunney fight, or to wait un til year after next for the return en gagement of the two boys at Soldier Field. There is much to be said for both propositions. The cost of a trip east would of course outweigh the $80 price (figuring a reasonable advance in prices over the 1927 scale) of a ring side seat at the 1929 meeting in Chi cago. Still, and all, why count the cost? By going to New York we will miss nothing. Then, too, it must be considered that the chances of seeing Dempsey-Tunney fights will not last forever. There is already current a disquieting report that after the 1929 Chicago appearance Gene and Jack are planning to make a simultaneous an nouncement of permanent retirement from the ring. The disquieting part of it is that by that time the boys will have accumulated so much money they will have lost interest in three million dollar gates or even ten million dollar gates. Even the thrill of amassing millions can become jaded. No one seems to know just what the feelings of Mr. Texas George Lewis Rickard are on the subject. He was so busy fussing and fuming last week in New York about the way the radio public robbed him of $25,000,000 that he hadn't even started to make plans for the 1928 spectacle. By the time this appears in print, however, it is prob able that preliminary announcements of next year's big show will have been made. In the meantime there are, no doubt, a few hundred thousand per sons still talking about that seventh round. It is estimated, conservatively, that 55,000 eyes have been blackened, 22,000 persons have been knocked out so thoroughly cooled they couldn't rise on the count of twenty, much less ten, and that close to a million hours of fighting have been put in since Thurs day evening, September 22, by amateur puglistic fans, who, of course, received nothing for their pains. In some loop offices at this date, mere mention of the word "fight" reacts like a spark in a gasoline can. Life-long friends, who happened to bet differently, now cut each other on the street with glassy stares. There's no telling where the thing will end. Parade The annual sport page fight for space between the full blast of foot- JPORT/ RtVI EW ball and the world series is on. Soon football will hold full sway, invincible in its command of white paper and printers' ink. The season is not so far advanced, however, that memories of a glorious sport year have been usurped by scrimmage fever. Last week sport pages were lean. It was the lull before the storm. Not a few of the experts took the occasion to review the stirring events of the sum mer just past and found a rich mine of material. Locally, so much hap pened that a reviewer is sorely tempted to indulge in an orgy of trite super latives. It is both reasonable and safe to say that Chicago sport followers, no matter what their favorite games, were regaled this season with more thrills than ever before. Items: The truly splendid record of the Cubs over the greater part of the season. The fact that they lost out in the race can not completely dampen the admiration due them. Turf racing came into its own in and about Chicago. With the need for subterfuge eliminated by the new betting law, Chicago in one season made strides towards an early recogni tion of this town as the turf capital of the country, and it's not too unlikely another season or two will see an an nual race hereabouts as great as the Kentucky derby. Tennis courts and golf courses proved inadequate in numbers to meet the demand before the season was well under way and, although the lake was big enough, it never before supported so many speed and pleasure boats before. Polo as sumed a place in popular interest, largely due to the regular Sunday games at the new Oakbrook field in DuPage county, which it had never reached until this summer. Each sport boasted one or several outstanding events. The professional boxing game reached its climax, of course, with the heavyweight championship, and al though an outside promoter handled the affair, it is probable the local man agers will benefit by increased interest in the sport. Getting down to cases, in considering the season, is unneces sary. The summer of 1927 in sport was beyond question bigger and better. Football If you are one of those dopesters who base their predictions for the en tire season on the showings mack in the opening games, look out for squalls this Saturday. Except in a general way, this department holds to the be' lief that openers have little bearing on the prospects of any team for the big games. Second games, however, should establish a very definite indica tion. Against Indiana, for instance, the Maroons and their opponents will take the field as football machines, rather than squads in training. On paper nine out of ten would likely give Chicago the game by a healthy margin. This guesser looks for a surprise. A victory over Chicago would mean more to the Hoosiers than the reverse would mean to the Midway. Pat Page is a football strategist whose ability has been fire-tested for enough years to prove its worth. With Page at the helm Indiana's team may be expected to do things before long and the fracas with Chicago gives the boys from Bloomington one of the best oppor tunities of the season to do them. In Dyche stadium the clash between Northwestern and Utah may also de velop unlooked for twists, but the chances seem pretty slim. Hanley's boys have the edge on paper to die extent that the game looks something like an early season setup. Mid-west interest, aside from purely local partisanship, will be centered dur ing the afternoon, of course, on the outcome of the Purdue invasion of Harvard. The boilermakers have a strong team, one of the best in years. Harvard boasts a better squad than last year and has the undoubted advantage of Big Three prestige and home ground psychology. It may be noted in pass ing, that Harvard's team this fall is playing the so-called middle'western brand of football. On the dope, Purdue should win by a narrow mar ain —SPORTSMAN. TUE CHICAGOAN 27 Art Prospects The Veil Lifts DO you remember the Venetian scene in oil that is hung in the dining room at the Roycroft Inn, El bert Hubbard's quaint little tavern at Aurora, New York? It was painted many years ago by Alexis Fournier, an intimate friend and neighbor of Hub bard's. If you liked his work then, visit his one-man show that has just opened at Chicago Galleries. You probably won't recognize his most recent work because he is dabbling with a new style, of late. I liked his earlier handling better, incidentally. One of these, painted a few years back, is a moonlight scene of a peasant cot tage at Barbizon, France. This is, without doubt, the cream of the ex hibition. He has imparted a luminous glow to the lights and a bold, live quality to the shadows that makes the canvas a vibrant mass of color. He shows this rare ability to depict moon light in one or two other things that are interesting too. His later work lacks the soft color that gives his Venetian landscapes so much charm, but this is a temporary experiment in color which he will soon give up, I think. Louis Betts, one of our native sons, has a temporary exhibit of a dozen portraits or so at the O'Brien Galleries. Mr. Betts is at his best when inter preting childish moods, though he has included only a few portraits of chil dren in his show. I particularly liked his painting of a small, flaxen-haired boy called "Master Eugene." He has caught the artless simplicity of the child's personality and interpreted it with a delicate understanding. The second floor at O'Brien's is given over at present to a lively collection of equestrian drawings by Paul Brown, the English artist. The drawing is ex quisitely done and he shows a rare knowledge of animal anatomy that some of our native artists would do well to study. Landscapes by E. Dewey Albinson and James E. McBurney complete the new one-man shows at the Chicago Galleries. Albinson's show is the bet ter of the two. His work is modern in- it's treatment, inclined almost to cubism, at times. His idea, obviously, is to subordinate color to design, and he shows a nicely balanced sense of proportion. In subordinating, he gives his color a chalky, unpleasant quality, ~\ M THEY KNOW THE GOOD THINGS OF LIFE 1V1 , ARK how the younger crowd makes new fashions of old favorites ! They took to archery — and the kingly old game again tops the social register of sports. Likewise under their patronage, Fatima's reputation as their hest- liked cigarette is still "a mark to shoot at"! The art of blending at its fragrant best LIGGETT 6 MYERS TOBACCO CO. however. Mr. McBurney finishes the show with a collection of landscapes done in a fairly realistic manner. The Chester Johnson galleries have reopened for the fall with a splendid exhibition of contemporary French modernists. Whether one cares for French modernism or not, the show is a representative example of what the young and somewhat radical painters of France are doing. Marie Laurencin's arresting figure which she calls "A Young Girl in a Pink Hat" is one of the best things in the show. Matisse is there with a still life done in his queer, interesting way. You must see that. The only bad thing I saw was a horribly proportioned nude by Henri Duvet, which looks strangely like the work of some of our own garreteers. — v. O. BROWNE. Chester Johnson Gallery Fall Opening Exhibition Fine Arts Building 410 South Michigan Ave. 28 THE CHICAGOAN A Chicago Book By a Knowing Chicagoan IT takes a stranger to know a city. And it's a stranger, a man who stopped for only two or three years among us — no longer than he had stopped in Russia, British Columbia, Egypt, London and other parts of the world that promised adventure for a war veteran — who has written what might be called our first real Chicago story, in the sense in which there are New York stories and London stories. Which isn't to say that there haven't been serious stories about Chicago, for there have, plenty of them, just as there have been serious stories, very serious ones, about the small towns of Iowa. Yes, and stories about early Chicago, and about the first families. And a rapid story or two by Henry Kitchell Webster — though Mr. Web ster's stories have a way of beginning on the South Side and disappearing into Indiana. This first real Chicago story is Neg- ley Farson's "Daphne's in Love," just published by the Century Company. It has to do with real Chicagoans — real Chicagoans like real New York ers nowadays being the people who come from somewhere else. Their life is their ofiice, their friends are office friends, and for lack of more pressing social obligations, in their evenings and on Sundays — terrible day Sunday for the real Chicagoan — they see the city shop windows, beaches, cabarets, everything. Of the novels by authors from whom one expects novels of an au tumn, most of those that I've so far looked into have been something of a disappointment. May Sinclair in "His tory of Anthony Waring" (Macmil- lan) has written another of those short novels that sound like items in a psy chology case-book. In "The Exile" (Little, Brown), Mary Johnston, in stead of making one of those historical studies that do duty one season as best sellers and make excellent juveniles the next, has taken Utopia for her theme. W. J. Locke in "The Kingdom of Theophilus" (Dodd, Mead) begins by posing an interesting domestic prob lem, namely: How can a man with quiet tastes live quietly with a woman who is in politics? Not having solved it after the requisite number of pages, he gives up, and recommends the di vorce court. For a number of years — ten at least — Barry Benefield had been known as a writer of short stories. But his stories tended so much more toward the sketch than toward the novelette that when last year Mr. Benefield pro duced a full - length novel, "The Chicken Wagon Family," everybody was amazed. I say everybody, be cause "The Chicken Wagon Family" was a best seller. I don't know whether any of the critics thought then to call Mr. Benefield an Ameri can Dickens. But his new novel "Bugles in the Night" (Century) cer tainly suggests the comparison. Easley Wheatley and his derelict scow recall Pegotty, and Mr. Benefield's interest in out of the way occupations, sand wich and ballyhoo men, and the work ers who salvage a living from the Brooklyn dump, yes, and the general atmosphere of good cheer under diffi culties, are all in a highly American way very Dickensian. In publishing an American edition of "Antheil and the Treaties on Har mony," by Ezra Pound, a book of whose, lesser, Paris edition few copies reached America, Pascal Covici has transplanted to Chicago the aesthetic excitements of American Paris. An theil, whose symphonic interpretations of modern noise sometimes drove Paris audiences in whole or in part from the concert hall to seek the com parative quiet of the noises themselves, has now been heard in America. Pound is his champion, finding in An theil an example of the theory of hori zontal harmony that he puts forth in his "treatise." — SUSAN WILBUR. Pro Football A Personal Analysis (Begin on page 11) Nebraska with three men, including Guy Chamber- lin; as well as Idaho, Detroit, Le high, Gonzaga, Iowa, Grove City, Lombard, Washingto n-Jefferson, Creighton, Notre Dame, Texas, Mis souri, St. Mary's, and the sand-lots. Its most famous collegiate reputation, perhaps, is carried by "Duke" Slater, Iowa's colored tackle, who is still play ing an All-American game with such exemplary etiquette that not even the toughest egg in the enemy's camp has been heard to yell: "Kill the Ethio pian!" The star ball carrier of the team is Roddy Lamb, once of Lombard. Like Senn he proves that the hinterland breeds many a potential Grange who misses the newspaper spot-light. Roddy is small, compared to the typi' cal professional grenadier, but he drives into the melee like a bolt of lightning and never stops until he has three 200 pounders on his back. When the Bears and Cardinals meet, there is Homeric civil war. They began their seasons Sept. 25 with a game in the Cardinal camp, at Normal Park, and the conflict would have been an 0 to 0 deadlock but for the amazing Mr. Driscoll, who contributed a field goal and a touchdown. The standard argument against pro fessional football is that it turns a Col' lege graduate into a sand-lot bruiser. But that does not necessarily follow. Some of these gladiators have busi' nesses that command respect. Some of them are paying their way through medical or law schools with their foot ball earnings. It depends on the man. There was once a prize fighter who became speaker of the House of Com' mons. There is a prize-fighter now— the heavy-weight champion of the world — who is more studious than any Bachelor of Arts in the bond business. If the father of H. G. Wells had been a white-collar clerk instead of a pro* fessional cricket player, English letters might have lost "Tono-Bungay" and "An Outline of History." If Nero had been a professional fiddler, instead of an aesthetic amateur, he would never have burned down Rome to get a decadent thrill. So let's give pro fessional football a break. — CHARLES COLLINS. THE CHICAGOAN 29 Home Suite Home A Matter of Money {Begin on page 15) a desirable buyer. Many men who are attracted by other features of the co-operative plan have hesitated to buy because of the uncer tainty of finding a successor acceptable to the other owners. In actual prac tice this is not extremely difficult. Diogenes may have had a long and fruitless search for an honest man; but one who is sufficiently honest to be considered financially responsible and of as good character as the general run of his neighbors is not too rare to be turned up by advertising if not by a flickering Greek lantern. Some Sunday when the weather is too bad for golf, go shopping for a cooperative apartment. The buildings are shown by affable enthusiasts who are glad of a chance to sell the co operative idea even if they cannot sell an apartment. You will see the hun dred square-foot type of apartment which combines a living room, dining room and bedroom and a hole in the ¦wall occupied by a stove, an ice box, a service door and accommodations for two dishes. Next you may find a mansion occupying space on two floors, arranged with skill and dec orated with the taste of a connoisseur. It has a spacious, dignified living room paneled in beautiful woods; a cozy library graced by an old style fireplace (with a real draft), framed in an an tique mantel piece; a cheerful dining room of hospitable size; a tiled kitchen with a dishwashing sink; pantries lined with shining enameled metal cabinets; and any number of comfortable bed rooms each with its tiled bath and dressing room fitted with drawer cases and shoe shelves behind mirror doors. Between these extremes are apart ments to suit pocketbooks thin, fat and medium. The builders may have fan cied' that they were producing some thing Spanish, Norman, Italian, Early or Late American (the difference shown by the degree of roughness of the plaster). The building may be only one elevator operator in advance of a private residence or, with its spa cious lounge, restaurant and roof gar den, only one step behind a hotel. A co-operative soon to be built on the old Chicago Beach properties prom ises a ball room and a swimming pool; in fact, all the luxuries of an ocean liner. — lewis and ruth bergman. Chicagoennc Civic Service For Guests of the Citizenry (TiOTE: A letter to the chatty Heloise from her faithful Marion, in Paris for the season, is published on page 31.) CHICAGO, October 8. Dear Marion : You remember my telling you of the Petit Gourmet and its marvelous chicken mousse? Well, the same peo ple have opened another place over at 180 East Delaware, calling it "Au Grand Gourmet." They have the same excellent food and, although the decorations are not as interesting as those at the Petit Gourmet, it has a quiet, pleasing sort of feeling. Thurs day we lunched with Lucy and later shopped for a wedding present for her. Susy is to be one of the brides maids, and they have been friends all their lives, so she wants to find some thing especially nice. Ovington 's shop here is the largest, most complete gift shop, and, oh, Marion, they do have some gorgeous things! Lots of Lalique glass — the de signs with motifs from nature seem to be by far the most interesting — one pattern with beetles — big round bowls and little ones — and another with grasses, really should be put in a museum. Upstairs, in the china department, they have a new pattern in Spode. There are both square and octagonal plates, and the ground is red, is a lovely soft shade and the only dec oration is a spray of softly colored flowers that are a bit raised from the surface. You know how cumbersome that old-fashioned tea table of ours is? I do wish you could see the straight lit tle English tea trays they have at Ovington 's — just a double, detachable tray on straight legs, very good look ing and extremely inexpensive — only $22.50. They are formal enough for any drawing room and so very practi cal that they could be used just as well on a terrace or porch. Sue bought a lovely bowl from one of their $7.50 tables (they have a whole floor of tables with gifts priced at $2.50, $5, $7.50 and $10, 1 believe), and then we went to the Piccadilly for tea. It was a dark day and the new fountain was playing against the lights. The window tables at the Pic cadilly are regular ringside seats for the fountain. Burley's is another place to look for wedding presents. It is one of the oldest shops in Chicago and they spe cialize in fine table and glassware, al though they do have a lot of trick odds and ends and bric-a-brac. For instance, they have some brass from the Weiner Werk Stadt, that is the studio of Joseph Urban, the famous Viennese modernist. If anybody wants to give me a present, you might tell them I'd like the middle size bowl with the handles scrolled three times. Susan was thinking of something for a formal table. We were told about the newest fashions in table arrange ment and shown some things not 30 THE CHICAGOAN The FLOWN in a charming combination of black kidskin and black lizard- the mo ment's highlight effect. I is but jerrumne xo wis n to be exclusive l MILLER Custom Qjhoc Qjalon MICHIGAN AVENUE 3 1 2 South ' B IMPORTATIONS from the style ceri" ters of Europe — sea' sonal suggestions of note — Goats Gowns Suits Furs And for the bridal path, Riding Habits of distinc tive design. F. ARENDT Importer* 171 No. Michigan Ave. Chicago yet unpacked officially. Incredibly beautiful fruits, flowers and grain, made of the clearest crystal; tiny, fragile animals — prancing deers, stags and modernist horses; wonderful tiny human figures, mostly black glass. and quaint, amusing glass biros with spun glass tails. These are to be arranged on mirror plateaus in the center of the table. They reflect the light and catch all the color there is, and the effect is just like material izing the frost pictures from winter windows. Susy has just about determined on glasses. Myself, I have gone broke on odds and ends. I went with Susy to McAvoy's. They have a whole new group of vanities, perfumes and that sort of thing. They have all the new "dressmaker" perfumes, Callot, Pre' met, and so on, but I fell for a green imitation jade vanity with Quelques Fleurs powder and lipstick. It is about two inches square and the lip' stick comes out of a little square place inside. I got me some mules, too; stunning ones, with a huge velvet bow across the toe, and some dull green flowers to wear on my gray tweed coat. The smartest flowers this winter are naturalistic, and come mostly in bunches, large, natural violets or small nosegays of small pink or yellow vel' vet blossoms or leaves. I was almost sorry that I did not need another umbrella, for they had the smartest combination of reptile skin bag and a dark brown umbrella with a club handle covered with the same reptile skin. Here's something to tell mother. On the sixteenth floor of the Stevens Shops Building there is a place called Baker Loomcraft. They make spe- dally hand-woven coats, suits and dresses. Now that handmade, hand' loomed fabrics are so extremely smart, nothing could be better for mother than a straight all-over coat made by these people. They are pure wool; they are made precisely to your meas' urements, in any colors you want, and the prices range between $47.50 and $85. I wish I could have one of the coats for the football games, for they are both light weight and very warm, and they'll never go out of style. The first football game is Saturday I am going to the one at Chicago Uni versity. Lucky enough, wasn't I? And I have a bid for the Pennsyl' vania-Chicago game as well! Thinely, Heloise. THE CHICAGOAN 31 If In Paris Send This Letter Paris, October 8. Dear Heloise: As the last of the summer visitors •tart homeward with heads and hearts full of die beauty and charm of Paris, and trunks full of everything from rare perfumes to the choicest of hats, ensembles, bags and ornate jewelry, the smart Parisienne returns from Deauville or Biarritz or Vichy and is once more seen along the famous "Grands Boulevards." We need not wonder why she is always the leader in the field of fashion when we realise that Paris is the Couturiere, or at least the designer for all the world. Lanvin, Drecoll, Poiret, Patou, Le- long, Worth, Ducet— all the large es tablished houses have been showing their new fall and winter creations for die past month for the benefit of their overseas customers, and their models are of the most varied and unique styles. The most outstanding changes in this season's mode are the slightly, hot* definitely, longer skirt and the slender silhouette which is so flattering and becoming to every type of figure. This slenderizing effect is obtained not only by the added hem length, but by the clever and striking use of the ver tical and diagonal lines and stripes, tucking, pointed sashes or draperies, godets and cascades on otherwise sim ple skirts. Out of the maelstrom of gorgeous costumes being displayed by the big gest Paris dressmaking houses, I am going to choose a few of the loveliest being shown anywhere for the coming season, by Worth. The first that struck me as being both desirable and wearable for these chilly fall days was a street ensemble of dark blue wool, worn snug and close about the figure, with a large double collar and deep cuffs of shaded, or "degrade," astra- kan. The dress worn under this coat was of the same shade and material, with a plain V neck, tight leg sleeves and a full skirt. The only relief from the extreme simplicity of the frock are the tiny gold buttons trimming sleeves and waist, and the godet at one side from hip to hem. "Vers la Nuit" was the name of one of the most goregously beautiful eve ning ensembles imaginable. The dol man cape was of gold cloth brocaded in an all-over leaf design, with a lux- "The Trousseau House of ^America" announces its P Inc. ling IT is with pleasure and pride that we announce the opening ol our L^hicago shop— -because we may now more complete ly serve the many Chicagoans who have long heen patrons of the JVLaison de Jjlanc. In extending to you a cordial invitation to inspect the JVlaison de Jjlanc shop, we have the utmost confidence that you will not he disappointed no matter how great your ex pectations^ — >and that not the smaller part ol your delight will he the eminent moderate ness ol the prices. HOUSEHOLD LINENS BLANKETS AND COMFORTABLES HANDKERCHIEFS BAGS AND FRENCH NOVELTIES INFANTS' AND CHILDREN'S WEAR FRENCH LINGERIE Grande MaisondeBlang- 902-904 MICHIGAN AVENUE, NORTH NEW YORK LOS ANGBLBS urious mink collar, and wide bands of mink trimming the cuffs and under sleeves to the hem. The lining was of the same sapphire blue "wedding ring velvet" as the gown worn beneath. This is one of Worth's most distinc tive and unusual creations, because of its tight fitting skirt and the skill shown in the drapery falling almost to the floor. There are embroidered motifs done in crystal and blue beads on each shoulder, at the neck, and in a solid pattern on the loose strips of velvet hanging from the shoulders in back. Although the gown itself is not extreme in length, the long pointed piece in front adds a grace and tallness that is essential to fashion this year. The tea gowns shown in this varied collection were of every delectable shade, and made in chiffon, velvet and chiffon combined, lace, and all kinds of silks and crepes. One that pleased me most was a divinely floating one of robin's egg blue satin-backed crepe, embroidered all over with gold birds. The long, flowing sleeves and hand kerchief draperies hanging from the hips lend a daintiness and grace that is particularly suitable to that type of gown. Busily, Marian. 32 THE CHICAGOAN The_Mail Letters of general interest to Chi' cagoans will be published when signed with full name and address. The City Press Editor, The Chicagoan: Concerning Paul D. Paddock's very in formative and interesting article on "The City News Bureau" in the September 24th issue of your Chicagoan — which by the way appears to be the first public recogni tion on record of this historic news gath ering agency of Chicago, a recognition for which many graduates of the organization Chicago's North Shore holds no more desirable property than that in Highland Park a portion of which we are soon to place on the market. Advance information for the as\ing Carme Romano Realtor 10 So. La Salle St., Chicago Jl Polo ... a magazine designed to supply the Game and those inter' ested with a publication of appropriate authority, readability and interest. Obtainable by subscription only. One year, $5.00; Two years, $8.00; Three years, $10.00. Quigley Publishing Company 407 South Dearborn St. Chicago, 111. Besides Polo, the magazine is devoted to Amateur Cross-Country Racing, Steeple chases and Point-to-Point Races, and dev otees of these sports will find it invaluable. — P — o 11 1) q n n 7-c= are thankful to Mr. Paddock and The Chicagoan — permit me to add a word or two on the subject by pointing out that the City Press, as it is familiarly known, has already taken its place in contemporary American literature. On page 178 of "The Love Legend," a novel published in 1922 by Scribner's and written by Woodward Boyd, wife of Thomas Boyd, author of "Through the Wheat," we find a description of the ex periences encountered by one of the girl characters on the City Press. The novel, regarded by literary critics at the time as being of outstanding merit and likely to be remembered should the author fulfill the promise indicated in its pages, has a Chi cago background, familiar streets being re ferred to as well as the Dill Pickle Club. Here is the author's description of the City Press : "Dizzy finished school and got a job almost immediately with the City Press. "In Chicago, the City Press covers most of the routine news for all of the papers. A staff of reporters detailed to police sta tions, courts, hospitals, send the news to the Central office within a few moments of its occurrence. The news is then shot through automatic tubes into local rooms in the city. And all the important stories are then given to newspaper reporters to in vestigate and wrtie about by the city edi tors. Only occasionally Dizzy saw the thing that she had written in print." Women worked on the City Press dur ing 1917 and 1918 when the men of the city had gone away to the wars. Also, I wish to refer to the excellent service rendered by the City Press on elec tion days. The news bureau and its staff, under the capable management of Mr. Wal ter Brown, covers the election returns for all of the newspapers of the city. — John Drury, Chicago Daily 7<[ews. Editor, The Chicagoan: The picture which appeared in a football yarn about Hanley on page 1 1 of your Sep tember 24th issue is a neat bit of decora tion. Apparently, however, the fellow carrying the ball is about to be tackled by one of his own men just as he is making a touchdown.— R. C, 1310 Thorndale Ave. (HOTE: The art editor states that the drawing is correct. He says no effort was made by the art ist to distinguish between the two teams by color of uniform, as the game portrayed was played in mud. The suit which appears white is worn by a substitute in for his first play. This same art editor insists Hacl{ Wilson carried a telescope, not a bat, when informed Hac\ bats right handed. Watch him.) Not Half Bad Editor, The Chicagoan: Here are some new names for the Art Institute Lions. To indicate permanence and national scope, call the one to the north "Abies" and the one to the south "Irish Rose." If you care for something with more local flavor, I suggest "O'Connor and Goldberg." Other names, slightly anachronistic now, but in vogue when the lions were given their long-term lease, "Whiskey and Soda," "Tom and Jerry." — Aranka Weiss, 1756 W. Division St. Where Fine Cigars Are Smoked Tom Palmer Predominates Wengler & Mandell, Inc. Chicago • Tampa The Artist Is Right