For Forfoi c^bt Ending May 5. 1928 /; ? Reg. U. S. Pat. Off. The Custom Victoria, illustrating one oj several wire wheel and fender-well options. OOto &>&& Chassis Leader of the daH, Supreme in Beautu too. HE consistency of Hudson lead ership is but the performance of its first principle, resolution and tradition — to always lead in value. tion of values obtain as made the Super- Six chassis famous. To see, examine and ride in the new Hudson Super-Six is to revise your The Super-Six principle and its whole knowledge of automobile values. companion invention that turns waste heat to power, is the most efficient combination in development and trans mission of power, within our knowledge. The engineering and manufacturing resources responsible for these great advancements are expressed again in Hudson's new leadership of mode. In the beautifully designed and luxuri ously finished bodies that feature the new Hudson Super-Sixes the same rela- HUDSON MOTOR CAR COMPANY OF ILLINOIS 2220 South Michigan Avenue — Calumet 6900 HI U D S O N Siwer-Slj^ The Chicagoan — Martin J. Quiglky, Puulishkr and Editor; published fortnightly by The Chicagoan Publishing Co., 407 South Dearborn St., Chicago, 111. New York Office: 565 Fifth Ave. Los Angeles Office: 5617 Hollywood B'vd. Subscription $3.00 annually, single copies 15c. Vol. V. No. 3- — For the Fortnight ending May 5. (On Sale April 21.) Entered as second-class matter at the Post Office at Chicago, III., under the act of March 3, 1879. TI4ECI4ICAGOAN l Have you a little devil in your home? When overstuffed sofas become elephants' backs, tapestry chairs become charging steeds, oriental rugs become desert islands and wrought iron lamps become airplane hangars . . . folks DO appre ciate the value of high quality furniture. The ravages of time are indeed negligible when compared to the onslaughts of flaming youth. To possess good furniture is to successfully (in a measure) repel the attacks of the pirates, cowboys, wild Indians and bandits that inhabit your home. Select it at Revell's. BEVELL'S at WABASH and ADAMS 2 TWECWICAGOAN cuR OCCASIONS ALIBI — Office workers exactly one hour late Monday, April 30, blame the day light savings time change due April 28. COMPENSATION— Flowers in America. Bombs on the continent. CHICAGO SYMPHONY ORCHESTRA — The thirty-seventh year in a great tra dition. Regularly Friday matinee, Satur day evening. For mid-week programs, 'phone Harrison 0362. INDEPENDENCE DAT— Open air Nor wegian singing, May 17. THE DERBY— May 19. FLURRY — Not of snow but of public jubilation for a new Chicagoan, on the stands May 5. MOVING DAY— May 1 or thereabouts— when descendents of the cliff dwellers ex change caves, first thoughtfully notifying The Chicagoan's circulation department of their change of address so that not even one of its 26 annual editions may be missed. THE STAGE Musical Comedy SHE'S MY BABY— Illinois, 65 East Jack son. Harrison 6510. Beatrice Lillie for a delightful evening, wise, witty, gay and charming. The rest of the show is ade quate. Go. Evenings 8:15. Matinee, Sat. only, 2:15. GOOD NEWS— Selwyn, 180 North Dear born. Central 3404. A college comic brisk and amusing. Abe Lyman's music. Forty gals and 80 legs. Excellent show and well worth while. Evenings 8:20. Sat. and Wed. 2:20. ARTISTS AND MODELS— Four Cohans, 119 North Clark. Central 8240. Raucous and amusing stage stuff in the worst possible taste and the least possible clothing enhanced by salty discourses. And popular. Very. Reviewed in this issue. Evenings 8:15 sharp. Wed. and Sat. 2:15. THE DESERT SONG— Great Northern, 21 Quincy. Central 8240. A splendidly sung, glamorous and romantic piece that goes on and on. It must close soon. Booked now until May 5. See it. HONEYMOON LANE— Erlanger, 127 North Clark. State 2461. Eddie Dowl- ing leads this troupe in sweet didoes and a moderately amusing show. Optional. But great if you like Dowling. Evenings 8:20. Mat. Sat. and Wed. 2:20. SIDEWALKS OF NEW YORK— Woods, 54 West Randolph. State 8567. A fair stage piece also by Professor Dowling and suspected of being Al Smith propa ganda. Competent entertainment. 8:15 and 2:15. THE CHICAGOAN PRESENTS Batter Up! by Burton Browne. .. .Cover Current Entertainment Page 2 After-Entertainment Places 4 Topics of the Town, by Martin J. Quigley 5 On the Bridle Path, by Aladjalov.. 6 If I May Say So, by Gene Markey. ... 8 JOY IN MUDVILLE, by Charles Collins. . 9 Evasion, by Donald Nelson 10 Tuning in Abroad, by Samuel Putnam 11 Tranquility, by Walter H. Schmidt.. 12 The Whitf.chapel Club, by W. H. Williamson 13 Modernity, by Henry Holmes Smith.. 14 A Moment Musical, by Adolf Dehn. 15 Intimate Chicago Views — Mr. Yel- lowley Attends a Night Club 16 Chicagoans, by Ruth G. Bergman. ... 17 Etiquette, by Peter Koch 18 The Stage, by Charles Collins 19 The Cinema, by William R. Weaver. 21 Journalistic Journeys, by Francis C Coughlin 23 Musical Notes, by Robert Pollak. ... 24 Newsprint, by Ezra 26 The Chicagoenne, by Arcyc Will. ... 28 Books, by Susan Wilbur 30 THE LOVE CALL— Olympic, 74 West Randolph. Central 8240. To be re viewed in an early issue. THE MIKADO— Studebaker, 418 South Michigan. Harrison 2792. A revival of Gilbert and Sullivan beginning April 21 with The Mikado and April 28 The Pirates of Penzance. Sterling, hilarious, immortal foolery with a fine cast and ex cellent voice. By all means. 8:20 and 2:20. Without Music EXCESS BAGGAGE— Garrick, 64 West Randolph. Central 8240. A shrewd and gaudy insight into the lives of small time vaudeville people. Everybody in town likes it. This observer remains luke warm. Curtain 8:30. Sat. and Wed. 2:30. MIDSUMMER WIGHT'S DREAM — Goodman, Lakefront at Monroe. Cen tral 7085. The Shakespeare extravaganza well and wittily done. Evenings 8:20. Matinee Friday 2:20. FOUR WALLS— Aldelphi, 11 North Clark. Randolph 4466. Nuni Wisen- fiend in a crook and reform drama of a really nice Jewish lad who gets in with lowlife companions. Dunt Esk. Eve nings 8:20. Sat. and Wed. 2:20. STRAIGHT THRU THE DOOR— Princess, 319 South Clark. Central 8240. William Hodge in a mystery play. Well done. Detonative. And refreshingly mysterious. Evenings 8:30. Sat. and Wed. 2:30. FLY-BY-NIGHT— Cort, 132 North Dear born. Central 0019. A comedy by Kenyon Nicholson and staged by Golden — and fair stuff. Optional. Evenings 8:30. Wed. and Sat. 2:30. THE BABY CYCLONE— Blackstone, 60 East Seventh. Harrison 6609. A George M. Cohan goodie with Grant Mitchell. To be reviewed. THE GREAT NECKER— Harris, 170 North Dearborn. Central 1880. A large evening for the common people. Poor. Evenings 8:20. Sat. and Wed. 2:20. MINTURN PLAYERS— Chateau, Broad way and Grace. Lakeview 7170. Last year's high spots taken in second gear. If you like the old ones. Call the box office for timelier information. Variety PALACE— Randolph at La Salle. State 6977-8-9. Stars "at liberty" pick up the pennies in two-a-day capers. Also hand standing gentlemen and snappy come back boys in high button coats and sailor straws. Call theatre for program information. [Continued on Page 4] TI4E04ICAGOAN HARDMAN PIANO Official Piano of the Metropolitan Opera for Fifteen Years When you select a Hardman Piano you obtain the result of the unremitting standards of Hardman craftsmanship — distinguished appearance and enduring beauty. Eighty-six years of master piano-building culminate in the Hardman piano — find their final expression in its thrilling warmth and beauty of tone. A richly varied choice in period case-work is offered the discerning music-lover in the new Hardman models of 1928. There are many authentic Period designs to choose from — each created by a master — each with the Hardman reputation for durability and lasting satisfaction — each with the beautiful Hardman tone. In the Hardman you will find a satisfying combination of these qualities of excellence. When once you hear the Hardman tone and see Hardman case-work, you will experience that pleasure which a real work of art alone can give. The following Artists have endorsed the Hardman Piano : Frances Alda John McCormack Maria Barrientos Itala Montetnezzi Mario Basiola Nina Morgana Lucrezia Bori Claudia Muzio Cleofonte Campanini Margaret Namara Enrico Caruso Georgio Polacco Mario Chamlee Carmela Ponselle Emmy Destinn Elisabeth Rethberg Rosina Galli Antonio Scotti Giulio Gatti-Casazza Riccardo Stracciari Nanette Guilford Luisa Tetrazzini Orville Harrold Marie Tiffany Clarence E. Whitehill All Hardman Pianos and Welte-Mignon Reproducing' Pianos may be purchased on a convenient payment plan, and we will offer a liberal allowance for your present piano in part payment. STEGER & SONS Piano Manufacturing Co* Exclusive Representative of HARDMAN, PECK # CO. Steger Building Northwest Corner Wabash and Jackson Victor Records Harrison 1656 Victrola-Radiola 4 TWECWICAGOAN TABLES BLACKSTONE HOTEL— 65.6 South Mich igan. Harrison 4300. A by-word in cultured dining, everything a la carte. MargrafFs stringed music. August Dit- trich, the extremely competent headwaiter. STEVENS HOTEL — 730 South Michigan. Wabash 4400. A colossal inn, and there fore a show place. Brisk and adequate. Husk O'Hare furnishes dance music in the main dining room from 6 until 8 p. m. Stalder is headwaiter. The check $3. CONGRESS HOTEL— Congress at Michi gan. Harrison 3800. The spectacular glitter of the Balloon Room and Peacock alley with knowing night people at the tables. Johnny Hamp's smooth band. Gay and generous, and insouciant. Ray Barrec is headwaiter. PALMER HOUSE— State at Monroe. Ran dolph 7500. Gracious and pleasant with a fine orchestra, good food, and entirely adequate service. For a Loop place, quiet and moderately priced. Mutchler is head- waiter. COLLEGE INN— Hotel Sherman. Franklin 2100. Dining and dancing. The best after theatre entertainment in town with noted stage stars being funny all over again. Nice people too. Until 2 a. m. Brown is headwaiter. PETRUSHKA CLUB— 403 South Wabash. Wabash 2497. Russian and refined. Triple-star food. Good dancing. Good entertainment. And the best people. No whoopee. Khamara is master of cere monies. Kinsky is headwaiter. CLUB AMBASSADOR— 226 East Ontario. A cosy, lively place. Dining, dancing, and floorshow. Loud and late. Johnny Itta is headwaiter. Helen, our favorite hostess, has been absent lately. Helasl Have pity, Sig. Barone. Pity. NOTE: Here we enter into a list of Chi cago night places and are forced to take a mournful detour. Night life hereabouts suffers from the Prohibition doldrums. The RENDEZVOUS, JEFFRY TAV ERN, and SUNSET have been padlocked. (Groans and cries of Boo.) The RALNBO, MIDHIGHT FROLICS, CLUB ANSONLA., even the innocent and de lightful CHEZ PIERRE (cries of No! No!) have been enjoined by federal snif fers. Also CLUB ALABAM, PARODT CAFE, HOLLYWOOD BARN, and the impeccably correct BLACKHAWK (Shame! Shame!) have been decorated with injunction notices. So far as we know these places are still open and doing business. (Cheers!) But from day to day who knows? (Hisses and catcalls!) We suggest 'phoning the favorite club first. Or better, 'phone, not after 3 a. m., E. C. Yellowley, prohibition chief for the Chicago area. A BIT OF SWEDEN— 1011 Rush. Dela ware 4593. Tall and husky Nordic vic tuals in a quaint eating parlor. Try them and it. JULIENNE'S— 1009 Rush. Tremendous dining in the expansive French manner. Tuesdays and Fridays, froglegs. Durable. ST. HUBERT'S OLD ENGLISH GRILL— 316 Federal. Wabash 0770. Transcend ent chops and steaks. Fine, solemn, En glish eating. And soothingly served. LAKESHORE DRIVE HOTEL— 181 Lake- shore Drive. Superior 8500. The apex of Goldcoast innkeeping. Suave, digni fied, wealthy, and exclusive. A high point. John Birgh is headwaiter. DRAKE HOTEL— Michigan Avenue and Lakeshore Drive. Superior 2200. Brisk, genial, fashionable. Largest of the class hotels. Bobby Meeker's music incites ex- [Listings Begin on Page 2] cellent dancing. Peter Ferris is head- waiter. PEARSON HOTEL— 190 East Pearson. Quiet, dignified, with nice people and a thoroughly competent menu. L'AIGLOH — 22 East Ontario. Delaware 1909. Rapturous eating after the French tradition. Music. Private dining rooms if desired. And the solicitous attention of Teddy Majerus. Great. MARINE DINING ROOM— Edgewater Beach Hotel. Longbeach 6000. A cool, nice, respectable and pleasant place which increasingly comes in favor as the summer draws on. Gus Edwards' band boys. Vince Laczko is headwaiter. And a view of the lake. THE APEX CLUB— 35th and Calumet. Warm, not nice, and hilarious in the black and tan area. Somewhat reminiscent of Harlem goings on. Much whoopee and no inhibitions. KELLT'S STABLES— Rush at Austin. Del aware 2141. The original noisy night club. A show place. Earsplitting, harm less, informal (Oh very!) and cheap. Akeley is headwaiter. Yell for him. GRANADA CAFE— 6800 Cottage Grove. Hyde Park 0646. Splendid music and a crowded dance floor. The people, young, gay, lively and amusing. A place which has rocketed to popularity. Go. Better choose a week night. BELMONT HOTEL— 3156 Sheridan Road. Bittersweet 2100. SHORELAND HOTEL —5454 South Shore Drive. Plaza 1000. Excellent places both for Sunday dinner following an afternoon of motoring along the Chicago shoreline. LE PETIT GOURMET— 615 North Mich igan. Smart, comfortable with a real fireplace, and adequately victualed. Very nice people. THE CINEMA UNITED ARTISTS— Randolph at Dear born — Sorrell and Son, with H. B. Warner and a nameful cast. A sub stantial in an orderly theatre to like able music. Best show downtown. McVICKERS— 25, W. Madison— The Le gion of the Condemned, until such time as it passes on to make way for the none such Chaney in Laugh, Clown, Laugh. Good music and no interruptions. ROOSEVELT— 1 10 N. State— Speedy, Harold Lloyd in antics approved on page 22 of this issue. Don't let a waiting line disturb you — the ushers are tired. PLAYHOUSE— 410 S. Michigan— Pic tures, usually interesting and sometimes good, politely and punctually proffered. A deliberately different place and fre quently delightful. CHICAGO — State at Lake — The Enemy, a pretentious cast and all that, for seven days. Then The Little Shepherd of Kingdom Come, whom you all know well, for a similar period. A commodious and varied theatre, this, where your picture may be interrupted by anything from a pale tenor to Ringling Brothers Circus. ORIENTAL— Randolph off State — Your last chance to see the one and only, the nonesuch and unparalleled, the so-on- and-so- forth Paul Ash and his really very snappy little band. And then, of course, a couple of pictures, Three Sinners the first week and The 50-50 Girl the second, but the pictures really don't count. UPTOWN — Broadway at Lawrence — The Patent Leather Kid and The Circus, re viewed in last issue, a week each and in that order. Also bands and things, and nice people alongside. AVALON— 79th St. at Stony Island— The Heart of a Follies Girl and The Circus, reviewed in last issue, a week each and in that order. Vitaphone, stagehand and other audible items come at no extra expense unless you include time. SENATE — Madison at Kedzie — The attrac tions listed for the Uptown, curiously enough, will be here on the same days, as, for that matter, will they be also at the Tivoli. Oh, well — MONROE — Monroe at Dearborn — Always the mightily interesting Movietone News, and usually a pretty good picture in ad dition. Also one of the few theatres in town that exhibit short comedies with their longer features. ORPHEUM— State at Adams— The Ten derloin, a talkie, until such time as peo- Ele tire of learning firsthand that it can e done. Possibly of some slight scien tific interest. SPORTS BASEBALL— Cubs: April 21, Cincinnati at Chicago. April 22, 23, 24, 25, Pitts burgh at Chicago. April 26-27-28-29, St. Louis at Chicago. April 30, May 1 and 2, Pittsburgh at Pittsburgh. May 4, 5, 6, and 7, Philadelphia at Chicago. White Sox: April 21, at Cleveland. April 22, 23, 24, 25, Chicago at Detroit. April 26, 27, 28, 29, at St. Louis. May 4, 5, 6, and 7, at New York. COLLEGIATE TRACK— Kansas Relays at Lawrence, April 21; Ohio Relays at Co lumbus, April 21; Drake Relays, April 27; Pennsylvania Relays, April 27; Indi ana at Northwestern, May 5; Chicago at Purdue, May 5; Illinois at Notre Dame, May 5. HORSE RACING— Aurora Track, May 1- June 2. BOXING— Professor Paddy Mullins' all- star boxing exhibition at the Coliseum, April 30. ART ART INSTITUTE— The Eighth Annual water color show. Photographic salon. Sculpture with Epstein, Dobson, and Kolbe in notable pieces. Milles sculpture, which is awful. The Rothenstein por traits of eminent men. Drawings and etchings by Millet, and the Swope col lection of chiaroscuro. ARTS CLUB OF CHICAGO— Old silver, old plate and the Brainard Lemon col lection. ACKERMANN'S— Old prints of early Chicago. Delightful stuff out of a far gone day. By all means. A merry and interesting show. CHESTER JOHNSON GALLERIES— Paintings by Victor Higgins. And worth seeing. ALBERT ROULLIER GALLERIES— A magnificent show always of prints and etchings. Gustave Leheutre. SECESSION LTD.— Modern furniture, important, good-looking, very interesting. A must place for the shopping list. TI4ECUICAG0AN nbpics of the nouon A LONGSIDE of what may be said to be a rather liberal indulgence in practical politics in Chicago we note the development recently of considerable academic interest in the business of running the city, county and state. This may only be an incident of the recent elections and, again, it may be due to a heavy-footed approach of that day which has often been declaimed about, at which fathers, mothers and maiden aunts will not assume grief- stricken countenances when the son of the house — or perhaps the daughter — proclaims for himself or herself a career in state craft. Of course someday, even in Chicago, the busi ness of politics will rank as — shall we say? — a le gitimate occupation. That day has perhaps been put farther off by the ponder ous arguments of those who introduce the ele ment of crusade. It is all very well to insist that a better type of citizen must concern himself with affairs political, but until such a course be comes an inviting one we are not likely to see any thing in the way of re sults. Crusade and reform have been so diligently employed as mere means toward the end of becom ing affixed to the public payrolls that citizens of the type who should be in politics, but are not, shudder at the thought of coming be fore the public wearing one of those labels. Other inducements to the end of changing the character of the per sonnel in public service must be re sorted to. Somehow, a career in pub lic service must be made attractive; it must be made to afford compensations not available in commerce or in the other professions. " — yes, and when you're casting1 your ballot for truth and honesty in politics don't forget you told them you've lived your whole twenty-four years in the state" In Great Britain the titles and other honors issuing from the Crown afford an attraction to public service which may be looked at askance in these United States, but when the practical good they accomplish in the way of bringing better types of men into the business of government is considered, they are no longer to be snickered at, publicly or privately. The World Akin w, E find from recent close inspection that the standard ritual of proced ure is practiced in traffic accidents, regardless of the price, wheelbase or coun try of origin of the par ticipating motor cars. A Rolls-Royce motor car was suddenly halted at an approach to the Michigan Avenue Bridge. A battered Chevrolet im mediately following sailed into the stern of its aris tocratic predecessor with screeching brakes. Madam, from the deep- cushioned tonneau of the Rolls, leaped to the street and hurrying to the rear of her car made a hasty inspection. Immediately she was joined by the driver of the Chevrolet and as the latter mourn fully caressed the bat tered forepart of his car he was set upon in sylla bles conventionally remi niscent of those one is accustomed to overhear in 6 TI4ECI4ICAGOAN traffic jams in which the participants seemingly occupied positions of closer parity. It had been a theory with us that in motor car accidents the loudest squawk is traceable to the owner or driver of the car which is in the most advanced stage of dilapidation. Also that a cer tain amount of the to-hell-with-the ex pense feeling was an actual if an un seen accessory to all Rolls-Royce mo tors. This incident compels a revision of both notions. Decline of Sex OOMEWHERE in the chronicles of the important events of the day should be set down the fact that the Hearst newspapers have decided upon a policy under which the least possible emphasis only may be placed upon the subject of sex. It appears further that the Hearst newspapers are not the victims of troubled consciences; also are not seek ing to become guardians of the public morals but, instead, they feel simply that the pendulum has swung. Hence they have sought for themselves a com fortable seat for the ride in the op posite direction. It may be admitted that it has been whispered about that the Hearst news papers at one time during their march toward still more millions of readers seemed to feel that the subject of sex had a certain definite significance in the marketing of news print. Mind you, we do not say that this is true, but to be perfectly fair to both sides we must record our recollection of having seen once in a Sunday magazine section an article, with illustrations, which if we wanted to be downright puritanical we might say seemed to be perhaps a wee bit sexy. At any rate, the new policy is sig nificant because it amounts to a pub lic recording, by an aware and intelli' gent organization, of a change in the trend of the times. 1 ERHAPS also under the general heading of a change in the times might be recorded the fact that Mr. Paul Ash who has long held forth in Chi cago as the jazziest of the jazz im presarios will shortly encase his saxo phone and silently steal from the city. Although frequently greeted by bass bands at the railroad stations upon his return from vacations, necessitated by the rigors of jazz dispensing, we venture the thought that no band will attend his departure. At least no band summoned by that considerable number of people who have confessed to us details of the pained adventure in volved in a trip to the Oriental thea tre to find out about this Paul Ash business. But regardless of what some peo ple, including ourselves, may think about the Paul Ash brand of enter tainment the fact remains that his astute showmanship, timeliness, mor onic appeal, or whatever it is, built him into one of the phenomenal at tractions of show business during his reign in Chicago. Single-handedly he commanded a volume of patronage seldom if ever previously equalled by a lone performer. Understand we are not saying anything about the kind of people he attracted, or why he at tracted them; we are referring only to numbers. However, it is all over now, at least as far as Chicago is concerned. His patrons have grown up or died off, as the case may be, in such numbers that the capacity of the Oriental theatre has been more than adequate to care for those who have survived. Identification i\ FTER being yellow for eighty-one years passenger coaches of the Chicago and Northwestern Railway are hence forth to be painted green. The railroad officially informs us that the change is due to the fact that when the yellow coaches and green Pullmans are run in a train there is TI4ECI4ICAGOAN 7 an objectionable ''spotty'1 appearance — and not, as we imagined, because the yellow cars are so frequently mis taken for cattle and refrigeration cars. Chicago Abroad OEVERAL of the other great cities of the American commonwealth have been worried about Chicago — -need lessly, of course, but they have been worried, especially since the recent del uge of publicity about explosives and other agencies of violence. New York, Philadelphia and Boston newspapers, as well as the journals of St. Louis, Kansas City and Detroit, for some time prior to the recent elections devoted front page space to accounts about goings-on in Chicago and these accounts, to say the least, will never adorn conspicuous pages in the scrap books of the Association of Commerce. This all comes about, of course, through the Chicago correspondents of these newspapers taking a hint from what they read in the Chicago news papers. In supplying their home newspapers with despatches these cor respondents may be excused a some what florid style and a free hand in dealing with the facts because the Chicago press teaches little in the way of moderation and, besides, their busi ness is to supply to their home news papers material that looks like news. But the press of the other cities, following the news of the recent elec tions, has become quite approving; they hail the election results as the turning of a new leaf in local affairs. We don't think these newspapers en joyed anything substantial in the way of knowledge of Chicago affairs as they actually have existed and we don't think the new attitude is important, except on the one point that it should discourage further indulgence in the old dime novel school of articles on Chicago. And this is of no little im portance. Th More Details [HE small boy of one of our Lake Forest families, after perusing maga zine advertisements, had decided upon the purchase of a pair of silver foxes. He felt he had grown a bit tired of the wire-hair terriers about the house and that the introduction of a pair of silver foxes would be a pleasing in novation and might, conceivably, re sult for him in quite a modicum of distinction among his contemporaries. After making his decision, he wrote to the firm which advertised the silver foxes, reciting his desire to purchase a first-class pair. The price of things never having been made much of a point in this household, the boy did not trouble himself with costs. Eventually a representative of the firm telephoned and as the boy was at school his mother was called to the telephone. Quite complacently she listened to the representative's account that the boy — who bore the same name as his father — had ordered a pair of silver foxes. She was then told that a pair, both very excellent specimens, was on hand and then a little hesitantly the representative inquired about her thought on the matter. "Well, why not send them out and don't bother me with all of this," she said. This brought the discussion into a rather definite status and the silver fox salesman, as tactfully as he knew how, commenced to point out that perhaps the foxes might be considered pretty expensive and perhaps again he had better know a little more about her ability to pay. At this point m'lady became acutely annoyed. "Young man," she said, "we are not in the habit of having trades people examine us as to our ability to pay for what we order. . . . Send the foxes if you like, and, if not, simply cancel the order." "But, madam," the salesman said, "this is a little unusual This little pair of silver foxes will cost $1,- 750. . . ." "Oh, m'god," was all he heard and the telephone receiver clicked. Th [HIS adverse Chicago publicity is commencing to get serious. It has now invaded dogdom and a well-articulated howl may be expected. It seems that among the other things that are al leged to be wrong with Chicago, ac cording to Health Commissioner Kegel, rabies is as widespread as some of the other unpleasant things. The facts are . . . well, that is another story. Dog owners in other cities had been hearing such awful things about Chi cago that they would not send their canines to the recent Show. As a re sult the list contained about one-half the entries expected. —MARTIN J. QUIGLEY. DRAW>{ BY ALADJALOV 8 TI4ECWICAGOAN I F I MAY /AY /O 'The Elephants Are Coming" By GENE MARKEY IN my wanderings up and down the world I have witnessed many dress- rehearsals in the theatre, but not until last week was I so fortunate as to be allowed to look upon the dress-rehearsal of a circus. And from now on I could never sit through another theatre dress- rehearsal without yawning. The circus has it all over the theatre — like a tent. If you yearn for a touch of excitement in your urban or suburban existence, just try to shoehorn yourself into a circus dress-rehearsal sometime — and you will hold your breath so much of the time that it might be a good idea to carry a spare pulmotor. Thanks to Mr. Irving K. Pond, the distinguished architect, I had a large evening as the guest of the Sells-Floto show. Mr. Pond, when not engaged in designing tall buildings, is often en gaged in turning flip-flops. He will be seventy-one his next birthday, and he can turn eighteen flip-flops in a row without turning — you might say — a hair. As one of the prime-movers of the local chapter (or "top") of that unique organization known as the Cir cus Fans Mr. Pond is not merely a Circus First Nighter, for oft-times so impatient is he for the circus season to open, that he visits the winter quarters. He knows all the artists by their first names, he can tell the various lions by their baritone voices, he can even identify the elephants before they turn around and show their faces. His fa vorite circuses are the Barnum, Bailey and Ringling Combined Greatest Show on Earth, the Hagenbeck- Wallace, the John Robinson and the Sells-Floto, and in these organizations he is persona grata. The headliners all salute him, and he is made welcome by everyone — from the Equestrian Director down to the boy with the peanuts. I WAS fortunate to have such an authority by my side at the Sells- Floto dress rehearsal. The show had come up from its winter quarters at Peru, Indiana, and moved into the Coli seum for its spring opening, and as we made our way in there seemed to be a tranquil air prevading the place, not unmixed, of course, with the pungent aroma of wild animals and tame In dians. Here was no frenzied rushing about, no flurries of hysteria, such as one encounters back-stage at a dress- rehearsal. And here, moreover, was a cast of a thousand — ten times the size of the largest theatre production — not counting animalia. Everything was re markably calm. Even the peanuts and popcorn were in their accustomed places. Mr. Pond conducted me up a broad back stair-way to the stars' dressing- room. It is the stars' dressing-room — it is also the dressing-room of all the other principal male performers. In this vast chamber two or three hundred men were quietly arraying themselves for the opening parade or "extravaganza." On the other side of a high partition was a similar space for the women. There are no private dressing-rooms in the circus — even when it is under can vas. As we entered one tradition was shattered for me. I had always heard that clowns were melancholy fellows who spent their moments outside the ring in deep depression and secret woe. Here before me, however, were four or five dozen clowns, in their pasty make up, all laughing and cracking jokes among themselves. It's getting so you can't believe in anything nowadays. My companion's particular pals in this troupe are the three Clarke broth ers, aerial artists (one of them a highly ranking equestrian) and George Hanneford, the famous equestrian clown. They received Mr. Pond with warm welcome, and talked intimately of mutual friends. "Is there, in the circus, such a thing as stage-fright on a night like this?" I made so bold as to ask Mr. Ernest Clarke, the head of the family. "Oh, no," said that engaging little Englishman, "but there is a certain ex citement." I DISCOVERED the excitement as soon as the show got under way. First of all, the horses were very nerv ous — it was their first performance this season under the lights; and then, dur ing a choice bit in the "steel arena," when a bloodthirsty Bengal tiger is cajoled by its trainer, Captain Peter Taylor, to leap upon the back of an elephant, the elephant went suddenly loco, flung the tiger from its back, stampeded and broke out of the steel arena. A real old-fashioned circus TUECI4ICAG0AN Chicagomen MR. ARTHUR MEEKER Greets a Distinguished Visitor panic was, as the newspapers say, nar rowly averted. But the excitement that Mr. Clarke, the aerial artist, had men tioned ran through the evening, causing animals to be on their worst behavior, trapeze artists to miss their death-de fying swings and tumble into the nets — and other thrilling mishaps, includ ing a chariot race that wrecked one of the rings. It was all very exciting. You never knew at what minute somebody was going to be killed. Whereas, at a dress- rehearsal in the theatre you know that no actor will be killed at least until the opening night. And then not by ac cident. Joy In Mudville Or Why Men Go to Baseball Games By CHARLES COLLINS THIS is the report of an expedition organized and financed by The Chicagoan to discover why men go to baseball games. The field work was done upon the occasion of the first spring migration to the White Sox park, April 11, 1928. Professor C Collins, anthropologist, was in charge of all observations, in cluding skull-measurements of 35,000 specimens. His findings follow: Men go to baseball games: (1) Because it is a tribal custom. (2) Because this leisurely, slow- paced game, inherited from the Gen eral Grant period, gives them ample time to munch peanuts and gossip with their neighbors. (3) Because it is a plausible excuse for "calling it a day" at 2 p. m. (4) Because they are out of jobs. (5) Because they have nothing else to do. (6) Because baseball has no sex ap peal. (7) Because it gives them a vicari ous experience of freedom, open-air life and athletic prowess. These are the sociologic and psycho logical reasons. There is another mo tive, however, behind the mild, rou tined mass-meetings of this American habit; it may be called intellectual. Baseball gives the average American dumb-bell the illusion of using his mind. He has played the game in his youth, perhaps, with some skill, for baseball is not an especially difficult sport. He knows its rules, its tech nicalities, its minutiae. The game de mands an alert intelligence, within the limits of its code, and in following it, play by play, from his nook in the grand-stand or bleachers, the typical "fan" thinks that he is thinking. For the time being, he is truly Homo Sapiens. The sensation is self-flatter ing. His inferiority complex is re lieved. He roars advice or disparage ment at the players. He reverses the decisions of the umpire with the lordly omniscience of the Supreme Court. He is, for two hours, a master mind, a dominating brain, an imperial will. He returns to his home highly re freshed by this imaginative adventure. Thus baseball has become the na tional game of the Little Americans. It offers them an escape from their oppressive destiny of wage- earning, job-holding, wife-keeping, insurance- paying existence. It brings a breath of romance into the doldrums of in dustrialism. THE terrain of this exploration was somewhat difficult. The White Sox park is located in darkest Chicago, between the Black Belt and the rail road tracks. It is a region which has not changed its dreary aspect, except for the worse, for twenty years. Its inhabitants are Carl Sandburg's hog butchers and freight handlers. There is always a smoke haze in the air, and the bellowing of baseball addicts is often drowned out by the thundering of freight trains and the dragon- screams of locomotives. The only touch of distinction on this bleak, for lorn cityscape is Armour Institute of Technology, whose grimy red brick buildings form a distant view for the customers who sit between home-plate 10 TI4ECI4ICAGOAN and third base. . . . This is the old Chicago, gaunt, gloomy and forgot ten by progress. It is the Chicago of Peter Finley Dunne's sketches. One would not be surprised to find Mr. Dooley tottering up to a ticket booth like a Rip Van Winkle of the Archey Road. The four blocks to be walked from the elevated station to the great brick bastions that inclose the park are heav ily picketed with hot-dog merchants of a forbidding type. One notes that these delicacies of democracy are served with a potent relish of raw onions. Evi dently the habitues of these games are a strong race. One reflects upon the lack of charm in the appellation, "White Sox," but condones it upon re membering that there was once a Roman emperor who bore the title of "Little Leggings" — Caligula. More over, a hairy- chested scorn of charm is Chicago's most characteristic gesture. The park itself is an efficient, double- decked arrangement of seating capacity, notably unbeautiful but ca pable of accommodating 65,000 with out remonstrances from the customers. One misses the modern architecture of the football stadia, where vast crowds can be assembled and dismissed with out crowding. One also deprecates the inadequate system of ushering. But "Mind them lights!" "But, Officer, I'm without my Kelly-Spring fields' this is baseball, a privileged institution of American life, pet of the sporting pages, and fetich of the sentimental ists. One never complains about any thing associated with this tribal cere mony. It isn't being done. The score-card vendor still survives, but what has become of the old-fash ioned "fan" who painstakingly kept score down to the finest detail, and quarreled with the newspapers the next day over the distribution of hits, put-outs, assists and errors? Great bulletin boards along the barriers at right and left fields, which announce the batter-up and the balls and strikes on him, as well as the score by innings, have almost abolished that pleasant ex ercise in book-keeping. There is only one thing that remains to be done before baseball-watching becomes com pletely effortless — the numbering of the players, not only on the program, but also on the uniform. Numerals on both back and breast will aid iden tification of the heroes who perform in these high-capacity baseball drums. WHY players are permitted to strew the field with their dis carded gloves when they come in for their times at bat is a mystery that should be submitted to the potentates of the professional game for solution. It is a careless sandlot habit which should be corrected. In no other game known to sportsmen are participants permitted to leave objects in the field which may embarrass their opponents. Of course, not once in a blue moon does a fielder ever stumble over one of these unem' ployed gloves; but that once should be enough to forbid the custom. And, although baseball is the safest game in the world except for spectators sitting too near the foul lines, accidents will happen. ... As for example: at the opening game between the White Sox and Cleveland, the center fielder and the second baseman of the visiting team, both in chase of a short fly, came into violent collision and knocked each other colder than a gold-digger's heart. (But the fly was caught.) Later on the same players on the White Sox did exactly the same thing, in a similar situation, although without such pain ful results. The coincidence was star tling. Upon this eventful day the White Sox discouraged their followers by los ing the game, while the score board re vealed that the Cubs of the North Side, starting out of town, were also TUECWICAGOAN 11 being discomfited. It was a day of ill-omen for the inauguration of the season of the national pastime in this metropolis. It was, for Chicago ball clubs, a kind of America First opening. The new $123,000 short-stop of the Sox, Mr. Cissell — a name more easily hissed than cheered — started on the path of glory by a wild and damaging throw to first base. But who wouldn't be nervous with that fancy price on his head? He redeemed himself by slash ing the ball all over the lot and run ning bases like Ty Cobb. The lad will bear watching. Men go to baseball games: (8) To see young Cissells arise to fame or crumple into obscurity. (9) In the hope that they may nab and pilfer one of the foul balls that soar into the stands, and thus recapture a thrill of their small boyhood. Poetic Acceptances Wilbur ("Bo-Bo") W rain rake, Bowie '28, Author of the Hit of the Annual Musical Comedy, Accents the Commission of Prexie to Rewrite the Alma Mater. (Music: That good number from "The Night Boat" or "The Sweet heart of Sigma Chi" with varia tions.) President Jacoby and Fa-a-culty, I'll take the break that you've given me. Our Alma Mater needs a little faster time, More modern phraseology and better rime. But I'll keep our Founders' spirit With which we were begun, Though the hymn, they say, was writ ten By O'Leary, '61. Chorus For our Alma Mater Oughter Have a little ring to it, Bing to it, swing to it. Something neat; Make the boys stamp their feet, in the street. Not too grand, So we'll all give a hand, in the stand. I'll take the lag out of it, Take the sag out of it, Put the drag into it, Drag, drag, President Jacoby Drag! — DONALD PLANT. <^gtetew- "Oh, by the way, dear, zve endorsed a mattress today Tuning In Abroad With Soft-Speaker Slants on the Native Mike By SAMUEL PUTNAM ONE has to live in Paris to realize, though the aware few elsewhere are suspecting it, that all the old arts are as dead as the proverbial door-nail or American prohibition. That is be cause Paris is the capital of the cosmic arts, and one has a chance here to view those said arts, in their ultimate and expiring gasps, better than anywhere else. Take painting, the one live art of the century. Killed by its own cubistic, vorticistic, dadaistic, postexpressionistic and, finally, super-realistic success. Until the best painting, now, is at a pole absolutely removed from "life," as the ordinary burgher understands it. Take literature. James Joyce, in "Ulysses," and even more in his cur rent uncompleted masterpiece, has brought all literature to an impasse If you don't believe it, read his imi tators. Take music — but ask Mr. Pol- lak about that. The list might be pro longed. In the meanwhile, new arts are flourishing all around us, back home. There is the cinema, the first great and truly popular art, as some one has re marked, since the Gothic cathedrals and the chansons de geste. There is the popular sports writer, who has done more things to the language — but suppose we sidestep comparisons, being content to remark, merely, that there is more literature in the baseball and prizefight columns than in any "liter ary supplement." I, for one, will take Harry Hochstadter in preference to Ole Doc Canby any day. Then, there is the radio, and the radio-announcer. Our Quin Ryans have done much here. Yes, there are lusty young arts frolick ing all about us, but most of us are too highbrow to see them, while they think themselves too lowbrow to be anything so highbrow as an art, if you know what I mean. And these in fantile arts are coming, not out of Paris, but out of America. It will 12 TI4ECI4ICAGOAN "Be calm now, everybody, if you please, and turn to page 42 in your pro grams, where you will find — just above the Cliquot Club advertisement — complete instructions for behaviour in case of FIRE." remain for Paris, as usual, to take them up, to discover that they are arts, to put upon them the stamp of Parisian approval. Then Chicago, and even Hollywood's own, highbrows may stop babbling nothings about an uncompre- hended Cezanne and go see an occa sional low-life movie. IN Paris, all eyes are turned to Amer ica, as the direction out of which the things that are to determine the century must come. Paris takes avidly everything America gives — and goes it a little better. That is the point. Her boulevards are now beginning to blaze with lights, but they are lights never seen on Broadway. Chaplin, by many of the French intelligentsia, is regarded as an even greater artist than Picasso — as the greatest of living artists; and for them, Chariot's domestic life has noth ing to do with his art. As for radio — Paris, at least, has discovered how to compile a program that a non-moronic adult can sit through. Let me give you, by way of example, a sample Eiffel Tower evening program; Schubert's Uncompleted Symphony; three selections from Mendelssohn; Kolnidrei for violoncello; a Paderewski number; a Massenet number; and a Berlioz number. Noth ing startling about that, you remark. No, it is true, there isn't. Nothing, in particular, to excite the musically ma ture. But compared to certain "pro grams" I have attempted to listen in on in Chicago, it is, aesthetically, a wow. I might even feel like sitting through the Unfinished Symphony for the Kol nidrei to come. But if you want a real program, here it is. We are having an hour with the "Cracker Jacks Jazz," broadcast from the Petit Parisien station: "Hello, Bluebird"; "Yale Blues"; "In a Little Spanish Town"; Jolson's "Me and My Shadow"; "Someday You'll Say O.K."; "C'Est Vous"; and Irving Berlin's "Blue Skies." Jazz, of course, we have in Chicago, and musicians who know how to play jazz — a species that appears to be rare in France — but how much real jazz-programming do we have? PARIS, of course, like Oshkosh, has its "literary" and other uplift oc casions; but even here, Paris does the thing with a certain air, a certain co ordination. The Radio-Paris is giving an afternoon devoted to "L Esprit precieux en litterature ." There is a Couperin-Kreissler violin selection, La Precieuse, followed by Rostand's La Journee d'une precieuse; then comes a scene from Les Precieuses ridicules of Moliere, etc. It is an intelligent pro gram, intelligently arranged. Or, here is a teatime festival devoted to the cavatine of the various operatic com posers: Weber; Meyerbeer; Halevy; Gounod; Verdi; Schumann; etc. Once more, there is some point. The Parisian radio, as a whole, is pleasingly free from the gim-crackeries and tomfooleries that clutter up our own programs. There are occasional news talks, of course; but outside of that, about the only trace of the Amer ican brand of asininity to be encount ered is the 7:30 A. M. physical culture lesson, given by the Radio-Paris. But since no one in Paris ever thought of being up at that hour, it really doesn't matter. London programs, as might be ex- TWECI4ICAG0AN 13 pected, are a good deal heavier. Talks on "Empire History," "London's Great Buildings" and the like mingle with organ recitals, religious services, lec tures on philosophy and the weather. It is all very filling and substantial, like cold roast beef or a plum pudding. Meanwhile, the real art of the radio remains to be discovered. It will prob ably come out of Chicago and be dis covered in Paris. Rain-Walkers Across the Boulevard THE long promenades of Jackson and Lincoln parks become clut tered and lively again. Under the cold splatter of spring rain they become deserts of naked concrete, glistening and empty expanses, desolate between the sodden park and the frowsy lake. Yet the walks are not deserted. They become the haunt of rain-walk ers — strange people who don old clothes and tramp resolutely through the wet. Usually rain-walkers go in pairs, a man and a woman. But there are solitary ones, and occasionally whole troops of them striding off briskly through the murk. These people come from the imposing apartment buildings which front along the lake, which means that they are a prosperous tribe under no necessity of a drenching. And in a slight majority they are women. The hardier sex takes its wetting with ill grace. Persons who are obliged to be out in the weather huddle along head down, or dodge from building to build ing in a vain attempt to stay dry. Not the rain-walker. He, or she, swings off, head up and arms beating time, as if to a march tune. Such people sniff each fresh gust of cold water with high approval. And when nature summons up a miserable, thick, blinding down pour they strut gaily indeed. Eventually the rain must seep into collars and run down aristocratic noses. This too is enjoyed. Low people, such as taxi drivers and traffic cops, mumble at finding the heavens turned into a water-spout. Doormen toot their feel ings on brass whistles. Ordinary pe destrians slink along with damp feet and uneasy noses. The rain-walker, across the boulevard, marches buoy antly through the cold and wet. — GONFAL. The Whitechapel Club For Auld Lang Syne and the Fourth Estate By W. H. WILLIAMSON "A tear for the living, A cheer for the dead Hurrah for the next to go!" CHAUNCEY DEPEW, with a murderer's sword about his then ample middle, joins in the bellowing chorus. Finley Peter Dunne, arm in arm with John T. McCutcheon, beats with a stein on a coffin-shaped table. Brand Whitlock howls it with George Ade. And Herrmann, the magician, raises up a glass. At the table a pair of eyeless skulls; hangman's ropes from the ceiling; a bloody blanket and scalps from Wounded Knee. The chant ends fortissimo. Charles Seymour calls for silence. The Whitechapel Club (1889- 1894). comes to approximate order. The club had its first quarters in two rooms of the old Oriental building (en- trans in the alley back of Rosters' saloon) now replaced by the Hotel La Salle. It was informal, at first; it never was remarkably orthodox. But it started as a gathering of journalists who rented the two rooms as an as sembling place. In London, Jack the Ripper was well on his career of ghastly mutilation done in the Whitechapel district. Charlie Seymour, his ears ringing with newsboy din of the latest murder, raised a stein and drank: "To the Whitechapel Club!" The name stuck. Two years later the club leased a two story building behind the old Herald office (also entered through an alley) and the group skyrocketed to fame. t EVENTUALLY the membership in cluded 90 names. Merchants and writers and artists and wits and judges and newspaper men and politicians. Election was simple. A proposed candidate came frequently to the club rooms for perhaps two weeks. His name was pasted on the club bulletin board during this probationary time. If a name was ripped off the board — no one knew who tore it down — that was all there was to it. The owner of that name stayed out. Perhaps the membership condoned no drunks. Certainly it included no abstainers. The collection of relics grew with "Well, if you furnish parts for these lighters — how about a new thumb?' 14 TI4ECI4ICAGOAN "No, Mother — not in the shaker, please!' the club's mounting prestige. A ritual developed. There was a kind of cen tral altar, the coffin table. A table shaped like a casket and studded with brass headed nails, each nail engraved with the name of a member. A mor tician had equipped this piece of furni ture with coffin handles, and on feast nights it was carried into the dining room in slow pomp to the Dead March from "Saul." Along the walls, on the piano, and in unsuspected nooks was a grand col lection of skulls — pedigreed skulls be longing to famous criminals. Indeed, Dr. Lydston, a club member, wrote a scientific monograph on the criminal skull from observations made in the Whitechapel rooms. President Sey mour himself covered the Indian wars against the Ogallalla and Brule Sioux, and returned with a trunkful of grisly mementoes. There were 50 hangman's ropes, some of them from very in formal hangings in the great and then wild West. A prize relic was the Knight Templar's sword used as an in strument of murder in Louisville. THIS sword was a mark of special honor. It was taken from the wall and placed on the coffin table. Each member was then commanded to tell a lie. The champion liar girded on the weapon for one evening. Twice, Chauncey Depew wore that sword. He was the only member competent to win more than once. The rite of the sword is a sample dido. It was an age still concerned with the fear of death. To be sure, a ribald mockery was made of dying. Henley's "Invictus" was another form of de fiance. Yet in the '90's death was very real and very disquieting. People thought of it. Today it is ignored. Seen beside the detached and inhuman sophistication of a like company to day, the Whitechapel Club is just a bit naive, gallant, perhaps, but whis tling up its courage. At all events it whistled a merry tune. There was the hoax of the Philadel phia Clover Club: THIS Clover Club had its wits, too, of national repute. It was famous for "razzing" great men. Some of its jokes were extremely practical. A few members of Whitechapel, informally in Philadelphia, were banqueted and baited unmercifully. Shortly there after a Fellowship Club was proposed for Chicago. Would the Clover Club send 50 members to install the new Chicago outfit? They would. Eager members of the new club paid them open mouthed deference. They were invited to the Whitechapel rooms, all in evening dress. The more breezy Westerners peeled off their coats as the banquet got under way. A copper's nightstick clattered on the door. Raided! Every guest in evening clothes — that is every guest from Phil adelphia — was bundled into a patrol wagon, and not too gently. The wag ons picked the roughest streets in the Loop, and those were the "days of cob blestones. They rode and rode. Out to Hyde Park, where there was no bail and no telephone service. A bump and the cavalcade arrived — before the Auditorium hotel! The Cloverite leader took it grace fully. He demanded champagne. To ward morning a detachment of police recovered their wagons. The original officers by now slumbered in im promptu attitudes. So did the guests. That was a high point. One of many. TOO soon the club disbanded. In '94 a crooked member robbed the till, plunged the club into debt, and instituted a welter of mismanagement. But Whitechapel went out with a ges ture. The Old Guard would have no new and solvent Babbitts on the mem bership list. They paid the debts them selves. Adjourned sine die. That was the end. Wallace Rice, described by the be loved Brand Whitlock as "one of the most cultured gentlemen in the news paper profession," has furnished me with the following list of the White chapel Club's members: Charles Goodyear Seymour,* first president TI4ECI4ICAGQAN 15 Charles Goodman Perkins,* second and last president Chauncey Depew* Charles Douglas Almy* Brand Whitlock Finley Peter Dunne Fred. Upham Adams* Herbert Hallett Sidney P. Browne* Harry Hubbell* John C. Eastman* Abram Beckham James Bate* Edward Bernard* Bernard J. Mullaney Leigh Reilly Arthur Henry Opie Reed Edward Lahiff* Wallace Rice George Babbitt* James Paul William Bloss William Eugene Lewis* Alfred Henry Lewis Wm. C. ("Tombstone") Thompson Hugh E. Kehoe* Fred Thompson* Vance Thompson* Drury Underwood* Martin Nathan son Walter Cosser John T. McCutcheon George Ade Frank Dallam Joseph McHugh* Newton McMillan* F. O. Bennett* Benjamin B. Jolly* John Souther* Harry Farnsworth Henry Kosters Jacob Richards Augustus Hutchins Rev. Aaron Dwight Baldwin Harry Trumbull* James Waller Reuben Hallett John Bonfield* Luther Laflin Mills* Thomas Bradwell* Judge Lawrence E. Collins Jarvis Blum* Judge John K. Prindiville* Colin C. H. Fyffe Luther M. Dearborn* William B. Keep* Alfred Dayton* Charles Arthur Johnson William E. Mason Thomas Edward Powers Charles Hollaway Horace Taylor* Charles Spaulding* Benjamin S. Donnelley* Richard J. Murphy* Alexander Herrmann* Edward T. Noonan Joseph P. Mahony Richard Gunning Dr. Hugh Blake Williams Dr. John C. Spray Dr. G. Frank Lydston* Dr.' Frank W. Reilly Dr. Oscar Bluthardt William C. Selboeck William McHenry Henry Steinbach Ben King Eugene Canton Arthur North Percy Clark John McEwen Daniel Butters Robert W. Hamill Michael Strauss Joseph C. Leiter James W. Scott* George Smith John Buckey Ernest Reed ^Deceased. 'Now this next passage, lulius — chaste, delicate, dreaming- 16 TUECUICAGOAN Intimate Chicago Views Mr. Yellowley Visits a Night Club TWECWICAGOAN 17 CWICAGOANJ 'Round About Chicago IF a man can play poker and estab lish records for long distance chain smoking while teaching two of the three r's at a good Baptist institution, and if he can write a column for a Chicago daily without using a type writer, he is unique. If he can serve two masters, and these the University of Chicago and The Chicago Herald and Examiner, he is a phenomenon. And if he can do all this without de veloping a dual personality, he is James Weber Linn. Weber is pronounced with the first e long, as in sea, and Linn is spelled with a y at your own risk. There is no James Linn. It is either James Weber or Teddy. There is a theory that his nickname had its origin in a supposed likeness between the young Mr. Linn and Teddy Roosevelt. This is not authenticated and the only points of resemblance that can now be traced are the eye glasses and the spreading mustache which, according to an old photograph, once concealed Mr. Linn. One might, however, find an analogy between the regard in which Teddy Roosevelt was held by the public and the relationship between Teddy Linn and his students. Although his features are familiar to readers of the Herald and Examiner it is doubtful whether many of them know what he really looks like, for the picture which appears at the head of his column is a poor, wan reproduction of a vivid subject. Twenty-nine years of teaching English to college students has neither warped his sense of humor nor whitened the corn colored hair that has an infinite capacity for look ing tousled and falling over his keen blue eyes. Perhaps his smile grows more sardonic; but he has kept his schoolboy complexion. He is more apple-cheeked and more fit than many freshmen and altogether gives the im pression of being athletic — but not too athletic. THAT impression is correct. In his youth he could stroll sleepily out to the tennis courts and beat the most virile of the farmers' sons who were his schoolmates. Latterly he has em braced the religion of golf, and after eighteen holes he likes nothing better By RUTH G. BERGMAN than a good workout with a six card spade make at the Quadrangle Club. He is a famous pep session orator much in demand when it is necessary to key up either the team or the cheering sec tion. That he knows football from the dressing room to the referee's least de cision, and follows basketball and the minor sports almost as closely, is appar ent to any reader of his " 'Round About Chicago" column (alias "The Guide Post," "Lights and Darks," "Chicago Byways," etc.). He calls col lege athletes by their first names and, unlike any professor in song or story, knows their time for the mile, what positions they play, how far they can pass. This does not mean that Mr. Linn holds the chair of athletics at the uni versity or writes exclusively on the manly arts. He knows Carlyle and Ruskin more intimately than he knows Rouse and McDonough, and he quotes Browning more completely than con ference basketball ratings. In demand ing that his students work, he is only doing unto others as he does unto him self. When he isn't writing his column or teaching the young idea not to shoot the bull, he may be preparing an editorial or a book review or giving an English lesson over the radio. In his spare time he accepts calls to many lecture platforms and many drawing rooms where he addresses highly enter tained audiences in the rather slow, middle-western voice that came from Winnebago, Illinois, and, despite meticulous pronunciation and the rav ages of wide travel, still remains tri umphantly middle-western. Mr. Linn received an A.B. from the University of Chicago in 1897. Two years later he was appointed assistant in English and from that post rose through the collegiate hierarchy to a full professorship. In the meantime he labored for twelve years as dean in the Junior Colleges and during 1907 and 1908 as assistant editor of The Youth's Companion. In 1921 he was ap pointed to the faculty of the Medill School of Journalism of Northwestern University. He is the author of two novels published before most of his present students were born and seldom revealed to them. Why Mr. Linn keeps his novels a secret is not known. It is unlikely that he regrets them, be cause he has genuine respect for his early work, even to the extent of giv ing a grade of A to a paper turned in by a student and later proved to be one of his own forgotten compositions which had been preserved at his fra ternity house. FOR years his fraternity brothers have used Teddy as a rushing argument; and for his part, he is a loyal member of Alpha Delta Phi. In deed one of the interesting features of the annual Interfraternity Sing in Hutchinson Quadrangle is the appear ance of Teddy marching arm in arm with three fraternity brothers at the head of the hosts of Alpha Delt lustily shouting, "We come, we come, we come with a shout and song." In the matter of songs he is not merely a virtuoso. Nearly every year he contributes one or more lyrics to the Blackfriars show. A typical example is "A Dean's Profession": To find frequent indications of dts- tressing tribulations in all human avocations, isn't strange. From the wealthy Wall Street ban\er to the sailor hoy at anchor, evry one of us must han\er for a change. Even if I were a pirate I suppose I 18 TWECUICAGOAN 'Would it be cheating if I told you where it is) should grow irate if misfortune seemed to gyrate 'round my head. And the artist in his attic, spite of mo' ments so ecstatic, gets despondent and rheumatic, it is said. But of all the jobs unpleasant ever wished on \ing or peasant since old Adam answered "Present" at the first, Of all jobs with trouble brimmin, seas of woe too deep to swim in, mine of being dean of women is the worst. I'm a dean, dean, dean of women, I haven't got a friend. "Tis a mean, mean, mean profession One's mournful life to spend. I'd rather pitch hay for a dollar a day, Tell fortunes with cards in an old negligee, Than hear the contempt with which fol\s say, He's a dean, dean, dean of women. This came from the show produced in the spring of 1919. The year be fore, the war had cancelled the Black- friars' annual engagement. The armis tice found the ancient order scattered and unprepared. No book had been written and time was too short for the contest by which one is usually pro cured. The Blackfriars appealed to certain alumni and they collaborated on "The Naughty Nineties," unques tionably the best of all Friars shows. Teddy Linn was one of the authors. A STUDENT could no more attend the University of Chicago with out hearing about Teddy than he could get through Notre Dame without hearing about football. New students learn three big names, President Mason, Coach Stagg and Teddy Linn. It is not strange that a body of myths has grown up around Mr. Linn. Like other myths, they are potentially, if not literally, true. There are, for ex ample, many stories about his smoking. It is said that although he smokes con stantly he lights only two matches a day, one when he gets up in the morn ing and the other when he leaves his class room where, unfortunately, to bacco is taboo. The rest of the time he lights each new cigarette from the last one. According to another story he can put his hand into his pocket and bring out at the same time a cigarette and a lighted match. Students say also that, although society editors never fail to report the Linns' frequent trips to Europe, the family invariably travels third class. There is a rule at the University of Chicago that no student can graduate until he can swim the length of the tank. It has never been decreed that no candidate can receive his degree be fore he has had a course with Teddy Linn; but few ever do. The result is that many rather obscure persons like to mention casually an old association with Teddy, while he could tell of the time when he taught unity, coherence and emphasis to men and women who have since attained a certain measure of fame. Former students remember a day when Mr. Linn stated, during a lecture on English literature, that there was a freshman in the class who wrote "like an angel." Now among the freshmen were two who were known to be budding poets, Vincent Sheean, now a well known newspaper corre spondent and the author of several books, and Glenway Wescott, whose novel, "The Grandmothers," won the 1927 Harper prize. To which one did Mr. Linn refer? He never told; but immediately two factions arose, headed TI4EGI4ICAGOAN 19 by "Jimmy" Sheean and Glenway Wescott themselves, each claiming one of the two freshmen as the angel. That may have been the origin of the old feud between two young American writers. It was hard to tell whether Teddy Linn knew what he had done. Probably he did; and if so, it is cer tain that he enjoyed it. HIS classes are always lively and informal. If a student hands in a poor theme, Teddy does not hesitate to tell the class about it; if the theme is exceptionally well done he is just as likely to mention it in the Herald and Examiner. And if another student, in the early hours of that morning, has left his motor running in front of his instructor's house while bringing home from a dance a Linn daughter or resi dent niece, that, too, is mentioned in class. Above all, Teddy Linn is no pedant. Although he is the author of a text book on rhetoric, he doesn't let a mis directed semicolon or a stray clause come between friends. If you ask him to name the best book ever written he will say that for you it is the book you like best. He would like to think that you prefer John Milton to Milt Gross; but he would lose patience with you only if you should try to conceal your enjoyment of "Nize Baby," and protest that you ought to like "Paradise Lost." Aside from his intolerance of pretense, Mr. Linn is a tolerant man, but one who does not lack the courage of his convictions, even to the extent of flunking a quarterback or conferring on his own daughter the highest grade within his gift. Speaking of his family it should not be forgotten that Mr. Linn's father was a minister and that Jane Addams is his aunt. It is not his family, however, or his position, or his scholarship, for which Teddy Linn is known. Perhaps it is for that quality which causes everybody to think of him as Teddy and never as Professor. He has many friends and many admirers. Formerly there were little groups of Teddy dis ciples. Now that discipling is no longer fashionable among students, there are those who try to high hat a popular instructor. But wherever friends or colleagues or old graduates gather, someone is apt to say, "Re member the day when Teddy Linn — ?" That opening always brings a smile. "Great fellow, Teddy," someone says. H'ke Slk G B The Return of Baheff By CHARLES COLLINS THE wooden soldiers of Tavarisch Balieff are marching again. They have tramped their way to California and back again; and are now drilling, all too briefly, at the Olympic, renew ing the quaint, goofy, delectable tradi tion of the "Chauve-Souris." I expected to be disillusioned; to see a "Chauve-Souris" with its novelty rubbed off, down at the heels, gone flat, stale and more or less unprofitable after four years of knocking about the world. My pessimism was frustrated, for I found this unique entertainment as refreshing, as ingenious and as young as ever. I am tempted to go farther, and to assert that the "Chauve- Souris" has improved with age. It has mellowed — or maybe I have. About Balieff in person, I have al ways been, and I remain, a dissenter. His frequent appearances before the curtain as prologue to the numbers of this Russian vaudeville are, for me, merely opportunities to study the pro gram. Naivete is the charm of the "Chauve-Souris," and Balieff himself is not naif. He is merely smug, arch and bland — something like a self-satisfied hippopotamus. But the sketches, pan tomimes and concerts which he intro duces, no matter how casual of execu tion or infantile of conception, are an unfailing delight. Exhibition of Anatomy t: 'HE new Winter Garden show at the Four Cohans, "Artists and Models," is a shy affair — -ah, yes, in- Jack Pearl, a wit in the German dialect, and Jack Oster- man, rough, ready and willing in the modem tongue, ex change nifties in ''Artists and Models," now visible to the naked eye at the Four Cohans. (Did we say "naked"!) 20 deed. As modest and shrinking, to quote a line of Beatrice Lillie's, as a bride preparing her torso. In its bright lexicon, there is no such word as brassiere. But shining shapes of Broadway houris, wearing nothing but the cache' sexe, are the least of its flagrancies. Its mental tone is that of a drummer on a debauch, or of a house detective talking shop. In a word, it's rough. . . . Let it pass. It comes from the Winter Garden, which, if not a for tress of American culture, is at least trying to be the breast-work of some thing or other. Chicago notoriously adores these rampant exhibitions of bad taste backed with a voluptuous check-book, so the principal performers in "Artists and Models" may be mentioned in order to keep the record up to date. They are Jack Pearl, a funny German dialecti cian; Florence Moore, merriest of the tough women of the revues; Belle Bak er, a second-string Sophie Tucker; Jack Osterman, a brash, energetic lad; Jan Oyra, a French pantomimist whose "Love Boat" sketch, a bit of Chinese melodrama, is the best thing on the program; Gshrey and Hully, dancing boys of unusual talent; and Nay an Pearce, a terpsichorean nymph. The girls of the chorus are attractive; the "models" undress well; and some of the stage settings are splendiferous. Melodrama with an Idea "C0UR WALLS," now at the I Adelphi, is a gangster melo drama which seeks to be psychological and strives for the expression of an idea. This is praiseworthy. It suf fers, however, from a weak last act, which muffs the development of the theme. The play deals with an ex-convict's attempt to escape from the destiny of his environment, only to find that it is a prison as uncompromising as that from which he has been freed. He ends by surrendering to the law again, to accept a sentence for manslaughter. His decision to confess, however, is a subject for Joseph Conrad's fiction rather than for the footlights. One suspects that there have been cuts of dialogue in the last act which were too drastic. Muni Wisenfrend, an interesting re cruit from the Yiddish stage, plays the harried and frustrated victim of gang-life and tenement environment with quiet but vivid naturalism. The other roles have been admirably cast for type. As a picture of the casual criminals of New York gang-land, "Four Walls" is less florid and more convincing than many other plays of its species. The Goldsmith Galaxy T'HERE is a veteran producer of plays named George C. Tyler. He is the saddest and angriest man in the country. Every season he stages a trunkful of new manuscripts, loses a fortune, and sits among the ruins of his scenery in Cain's warehouse (N. Y.) beating his breast and lamenting the lewdness of this generation like an ancient Hebrew prophet. Then he girds his loins anew, hires a dozen stars out of work, revives a classic and sends it on a "whirlwind" tour. His bank account brims over again; his faith in human nature is renewed; and he flits to Italy to spend a summer worship ing at the shrine of Mussolini. This is the explanation of Sardou's "Diplomacy," recently on view at the Blackstone as a museum piece richly garnished with histrionic reputations. This is also the answer to Oliver Gold smith's "She Stoops to Conquer," which brought another migration of stars into the Blackstone Easter Mon day, for a week of Georgian costume comedy. So far as its stars were concerned, "Diplomacy" was probably bigger and better than "She Stoops." But in the fitness of the stars for their roles, in smoothness and assurance of interpre- TI4ECWICAGOAN tation, the second visitors must be given first place. "Diplomacy" was an exhibition, but "She Stoops to Con quer" was a performance. Like the Pleiades, the stars of "She Stoops" were seven — Glenn Hunter as the loutish Lumpkin; Fay Bainter as the entrancing Kate; Patricia Collinge as the lively Miss Neville; Mrs. Leslie Carter as the maternal "old hag"; Lynn Harding as the mellow squire; O. P. Heggie as the oafish Diggory; and Lawrence Dorsay (minus his walrus mustache) as the last-act Sir Charles. Pauline Lord, who opened the proceed ings with a modernized reading of David Garrick's prologue, made an eighth head-liner on the program and payroll, to illustrate Mr. Tyler's prodigality. They were all happy, on and off. As a rule, player-folk do an amazing amount of grousing, wailing and snarl ing about their work; but get them into an "all-star" company, with an arduous route of one-night and one-week "stands," and they are as blithe and clubby as flappers at a fraternity house party. Callous Conversation THE verdict upon "The Great Necker," now at the Harris with Taylor Holmes as its star, is yes and no. Yes for those who think that the three hours after dinner should be de voted to light but callous conversation about sex in all its phases from virgin ity to impotence. No for those who prefer plausibility to wise-cracks and believe that farcical comedy should seek to rise above the humor of the comic strip. The formula of this play is French; it bears a strong resemblance (except for unskillful plotting) to what we used to call the Palais-Royal school of farces. The treatment, however, is in the literary manner of Hollywood. The motive-characters have been staples of French farce for two hun dred years : the giddy old goat of many philanderings and amours; the married woman whom he has cast off; the star- eyed ingenue whom he seeks to wed. But the dialogue is in the vernacular of modern nymphs and satyrs who blend the patter of red-hot mamma songs with the sexly technicalities of Freud, Brill and Jung. A harmless play for this hard-boiled generation, "The Great Necker" cer tainly is. But its morals (pardon my TI4EC14ICAGOAN 21 H^he CINEMA Seats Now in the Mezzanine old-fashioned glove) are as loose as a flat tire. It illustrates the barbarity of taste now prevalent under the label of "modernism." It contains, among other things, a brief discourse upon the sex-life of the pond lily to prove that the new freedom can vulgarize even the science of botany. Mr. Holmes' obvious and wholesome comic method rescues the role of the middle-aged rage (who doesn't know the half of it about flappers) from the leering implications of the text. He is pleasantly diverting. Irene Purcell plays the ingenue — a pattern of maiden modesty when her mother is about, but a wild woman among the collegians — with charm and skill. Nat Carr effec tively employs the style of his brother Alexander as a Perlmutter of the movies; and Marjorie Gateson is wise, worldly and good-looking as the lady who solves the "great necker V1 di lemma. Kids and Old-Timers "-pHE SIDEWALKS OF NEW 1 YORK," at the Woods, is an other contribution by Eddie Dowling (of "Honeymoon Lane") to the Al Smithery of song- and- dance entertain ment. It contains The Governor him self, looking something like his pictures and engaged in his favorite occupation of Uncle Bimming among the children of the tenements. Ray Dooley (Mrs. Dowling) plays the central role, and follows the family tradition by mak ing a nubile girl behave like an infant of three years. The best aspect of this show, which is good in its vein, is its employment of some famous old-timers. Jim Thorn ton, a star of vaudeville when the halls were-saw-dusted, speaks a brief mono logue after Fiske O'Hara, now acting an Irish cop, has sung "When You Were Sweet Sixteen," of Thorntonian authorship, over him. Barney Fagan, who must be seventy if the records are accurate, sings the song-hit he wrote, "My Gal's a Highborn Lady," and dances it too, like a youngster. Then comes a bit of genuine history: Jose phine Sabel, the first woman to chant "A Hot Time in the Old Town To night," transforms herself from a stout, quiet, old lady into a coon-shouter bet ter than Sophie Tucker as she tears off that classic of the Spanish- Ameri can war. Elizabeth Murray, once great in Irish stuff, is another member of this group of survivals. By WILLIAM THE standing advice of this depart ment to view any and all Adolphe Menjou pictures in full confidence is rescinded, voided, repealed and can celled herewith. And as this official act removes from the business of cinema attendance its last remaining shred of certainty, the celluloid indus try may be said to have slumped limp ly back into its notorious infancy without even the conventional dull, sickening thud. It's too bad, too, what with Paul Ash taking himself and his example from the local scene and thus, at least potentially, restoring to the cinema its safety for picturegoers. The faux pas necessitating this abrupt abandonment of the rather pleasant stand on Mons. Menjou's type of entertainment is called "A Night of Mystery." Of course the R. WEAVER title should have forewarned anyone, but anyone who likes the sophisticated little Frenchman from Cleveland, Ohio, could not be expected to take the title seriously. "A Night of Mys tery" is a well designed little murder story, neatly purveyed and quite good as a murder story, but it is a Menjou vehicle in no sense save that Menjou appears in it. No doubt it would have done very well as occupation for Milton Sills, for Clive Brook, even — since it is slightly military — for Lewis Stone. It does not at all well for Menjou, who plays the principal role in much the manner that Lindbergh might ride a bicycle, and it imparts the impression that there will be more mur ders and less mirth in the Menjou pictures henceforth. A sigh for Mons. Menjou, who goes "I'm so sorry . . . I suppose I lack the maternal instinct or something" 22 TUECUICAGOAN "Oo — gwait big wonder fid mans now to join the too clever Raymond Griffith, the too gifted Pola Negri and the too able Emil Jannings in their en forced sacrifices to the commonplace- ness of a too numerous public. A sorry day for Cleveland, Ohio, and for all the other cities in all the other states where dwell one or more steadfast sup porters of the theory that theatres are devoted to the purpose of purveying entertainment to the populace. Then, There s Haines — TO make the news about Menjou more regrettable, the fortnight that brought his failure to Chicago brought also the financially sound ab surdity which is "The Smart Set." Within the same theatre, where the week preceding, a smart audience had gathered to sit in dismal disillusion ment while a smart actor paced the dull length of a drab drama, a dull au dience gathered to sit in gay approval upon the antics of a smart- Aleck actor racing through the current re-setting of the one and only story Hollywood has been able to find for William Haines. The Haines audience, it is to be remarked, materially outnumbered the Menjou audience. And that, of course, explains everything. Mr. Haines in "The Smart Set" is the Mr. Haines of "West Point," who in turn was the Mr. Haines of the pre ceding potboiler and of the several pot boilers preceding, each in its turn, that one. This time the game is polo, in "West Point" it was football, in "Spring Fever" it was golf and in "Slide, Kelly, Slide" it was baseball. Hasten the day when no sport shall remain unslandered save chess, for surely not even William Haines would finance William Haines in "The Thinker." LEST it seem, in view of the preced- * ing paragraphs, that the cinema has been deprived of all allure for the mature, recess is declared at this point to make mention of Mr. Harold Lloyd's plainly comic "Speedy." Here, due to Mr. Lloyd's considerable intelligence and his unique ability to apply it prac tically, is a picture in contemplation of which admirers of Menjou and Haines merge into one loud, happy mob of Harold Lloyd addicts. They fill the Roosevelt to capacity. Their shouts shake the gilded dome. Their rapt at tention makes the passage from aisle to inside seat a lethal risk. They love it. Mr. Lloyd saves the expense of a studio set by using the highways and byways of New York City instead. He saves a salary by having Babe Ruth play the part of Babe Ruth. He saves nothing of himself nor any of his as sociates in street brawls, breakneck taxicab races through tangled traffic and the uncounted dangers to life and limb that are Coney Island. "The Patsy" THE difference between "The Patsy" and a copy of Judge is that Miss Marion Davies' picture is better reading. Also, the wisecracks in "The Patsy" have continuity and significance with respect to a given theme, as in the comic strips of the better news papers. The picture is, in short, the best of Mr. Hearst's comic strips and the best of Miss Davies' vehicles since "When Knighthood Was in Flower." In the early part of the picture — which treats of not two but a half- dozen Irishmen — Marie Dressier gives such a performance as actresses more veteran than she still dream of doing. Later on, when occasion has been estab lished for Miss Davies to employ the mimicry which is her especial talent, the center of attention is taken and held by the star. To miss her imita tions of Lillian Gish, Pola Negri, Greta Garbo and the others is to miss one of the screen's increasingly rare demon strations of acting ability. "The Patsy" is riotously funny. It is the first of Miss Davies' pictures in a long while to defy the descriptive adjectives of the Hearst newspapers. In that circumstance, it were folly to attempt further phrases in its praise. TUECUICAGOAN JOURNALI/TIC JOURNEY/ "Hold on thar, Stranger. Let's Play These Cayards Fair and Square. That Ain't the Hand I Dealt You." THE science of commercial card play is exact, ingenious and be- wilderingly elaborate. Its basic requisite is a card easily legible to the practition er and profoundly innocent of stigmata to his clientele, or it requires the sub stitution of picked cards in the ordi nary deal. Gentlemen skilled in the profession of gambling develop their own methods of manipulation, their "work" as the gambler terms it. These methods are the trade secrets of the in dustry. As such they are listed, priced, and explained by a Chicago company whose business is the sale of crooked gaming devices. "In groping into the dim records of antiquity," sedately begins the Dice, Card and Novelty Catalogue of this energetic corporation, "we fail to find anything recorded relative to the defi nite origin of playing cards. The thin, beautiful deck of paper cards ... is a very late and modern creation. The first cards used were hand made and hand painted, and the real manufac ture of playing cards was not brought to the present high state of perfection until American methods of rapid pro duction were introduced." Thus, gracefully, the reader is led to a consideration of modern cards, machine made but — thanks to the vending company — still hand painted. Beauti f ul — Perfect — Wonderful, ' ' a circular describes them, "the greatest wonder of the age." A card professor, privy to the in formation writ large on the backs of his opponent's pasteboards, will in variably outguess the amateur who hazards cash money on vague theories of psychology and percentage. No wonder the modern card is rapidly pro ductive. THE catalogue is helpful. It lists an "all over shade," suit able for any kind of light and guaran teed to give absolute satisfaction, an artistic symbolism cheap at $20 for six decks. "White work," good but ordi nary, comes cheaper, $11 for six packs. "White flash, wonder of wonders" and a device almost impossible to detect, Gambling Made Safe — 1. By FRANCIS C. COUGHLIN marks certain decks for size only, and retails $20 for six specimens. All these improvements are applied to factory cards of standard brands, and all of them are sturdy arguments for science. Mail your order. With cash! So too, is the "slick ace" liquid — a wash which almost imperceptibly de creases the friction of high cards in the pack. This precaution enables an adept to cut aces from the deck at will simply by sliding the clinging low markers from the slick high voltage pieces. And it costs $4.50 the bottle. Polka dot markings on standard backs are graciously cheap, $11 for six decks. A dollar extra for suite markings. A half dozen decks marked ace to deuce in the "white diamond" code retail at $12. The "big diamond" block out sys tem, suitable for Bee brand number 67, comes at $11. Marking fluid, for performers who wish to shade their own cards, sells at $2 the bottle. The precious "white flash" ointment is not for sale. Perhaps because it would be a temptation to dishonesty. Any card can be marked; a good many of them are. But marked cards are only part of the science. An important branch has to do with concealing cards at the table. Let the catalogue introduce its detachable concealer: "Here is a little device that can be put on or taken off instantly. Can be fastened to any part of the clothing and will hold one to five cards which can be instantly placed in it by the performer. A dandy ar ticle that never fails to please!" Pre sumably the pleasurable sensation is en joyed wholly by the manipulator. It retails at $2.50. Another "wonderful little device" slips on or off any finger ring instantly. It is "great for trick work." The "Bug" can be instantly fastened under a table and with it any cards may be quickly concealed. It is "a favorite article with good perform ers." Also $2.50. Consider, too, the art and mystery of the reflector; i.e., a tiny mirror which shows cards as they are honestly (a presumption) dealt. A ring reflec tor worn on the little finger reads cards as easily and accurately as if the deal were face up. It comes high, ring and all for $12.50. But there is no tell tale glass refracting surface. A prac ticing scientist fallen among skeptics can show this ring and maintain his innocence. An ordinary reflector sells at $4.50, but its user is somewhat liable to embarrassment at the card table. A reflecting pipe capable of performing "many interesting and amusing tricks which will mystify a parlor audience .... no practice required" is cheap at $9.50. A cigar holder, gold shiner, is $7. A safety match reflector which will stand inspection costs the magician $2.50. But these last condone the use of tobacco and are, perhaps, not strictly moral. A DEALING aid, a mechanical marvel fixed to the coat sleeve, is recommended to every magician and manipulator. It is noiseless; the hands need not touch the body but rest flat on the table. Weighs less than 1 oz. And the whole merrymaker can be at tached to a favorite coat for $17.50. (State whether you are right or left handed.) It bears the unqualified en dorsement of the firm. Expert testi mony, surely! The "cold deck" is as old as card trickery. Yet here, for $2*0, is the newest wrinkle in this ancient fraud. Listen to this: "The marks are put on by a secret process with a chemical preparation and cannot be seen with the naked eye, but only by the use of rubyised crystal glasses." Six decks 24 TUECI4ICAG0AN MU/ICAL NOTE/ Hear the Americans By ROBERT POLLAK $15. Glasses, ink, brushes, and all for $10. And a fervid testimonial from field workers. "Many of our custom ers are fascinated by this particular kind of work and are getting wonder ful results from it. If you want some thing original — " Or, if your eyes are embarrassingly perfect, try the run-up system. Locate all the important cards in the deck without pawing over discards or asking questions. Cull out the unimportant cards. Locate, select, and stack every thing worth having while pleasantly conversing on the weather. The en suing deal is simply mathematical, the results deadly and foreordained. It is applicable to all games. Bid six spades in Bridge and collect from frantic doublers. A great little home device to keep the wife in Bridge trophies. The system, $3. OR, if there should be crooked work about the table, try the "Flossie Dauber." Mark the cards as they come to you in the game. Pep per gold — the best of the daubs — is a neat tally, hardly discernible, very ef fective. And only $7.50. Nothing crude about pepper gold. Only a downright rascal would suspect it. One batch is enough to mark a dozen decks. Then, caveat emptor. Finally, presuming a sharper has cheated you, offer to roll a pencil with him for his illicit winnings. A nice red and black pencil with three red and three black sides. Give him one. Nothing wrong with the pencil you give him. Looks exactly like the pencil you roll yourself. Then roll and col lect. Your pencil will come the color you fancy at that particular moment. It's a great way to enforce honesty and make rogues disgorge. But let us end on a happy and re assuring note. Again the catalogue speaks: "A number of our customers have complained to us that certain firms in this line of business have not kept confidence with them, and have sold or given their names and addresses to other firms. This, without question, is false dealing with the customer. When you send us your name and ad dress we treat the same in strict con fidence ... no other firm will ever get your name and address. All of our business is conducted on the principle that every article we recommend must be practical." Certain extremely practical dice in novations will be discussed in an early issue. WHEN this issue of The Chi- CAGOAn appears on the stands you will still have about three chances to hear the American Opera Company presenting its first Chicago season un der the direction of Vladimir Rosing at the Studebaker theatre. This company is something not to be missed. It gives a new fillip to the most jaded operatic palate and almost destroys the common and not unintelligent assumption that grand opera is pretty poor stuff. From the stand point of all-around effectiveness the com pany seems to do better with "The Marriage of Figaro" than anything else. The simple and for mal effects of silver and black serve as an appropriate back' ground for the grace and elegant comedy of Mozart's fine little opera. As there is nothing banal in the libretto, the English version of Charles Kenney has an undeniable dramatic value and the careful listener realizes as never before the close psy chological connection between music and text that made Mozart and Da Ponte immortal collaborators. Although Mr. Rosing's succinct aim is to shove the star into limbo and em phasize the ensemble and the spirit of the piece, certain individual performers cannot go without mention. This George Houston, for instance, who carries most of the good bass roles, is a Figaro fully as good as Herr Mayer, who sings the part of the Barber when Strauss conducts his world-famous re vivals at the old Redoutensaal in Vienna. Houston is a splendid singer and actor, minus the pomposity and poundage of the average successful basso. Gold stars are herewith passed out to Cecile Sherman and Louise Richardson, both heard as Cherubino, to Mark Daniels, an imposing Count Almaviva, to Thelma Votipka, a lush- voiced Countess and to a very pretty gal and skillful comedienne, Mignon Spence, in the role of the chased Su^ zanna. The orchestra, alternately un der the spirited and skillful direction of Frank St. Leger and our own Isaac Grove, than whom, as combination coach, accompanist and conductor, there is no whomer, has plenty of snap and accuracy and sounds better than Mr. Polacco's band in its basement lo cation at the Auditorium. So, to repeat, hear the Americans, if you can, in "Figaro," but take a chance on anything they dc before they pass out of the Chi cago picture. Easter MR. STOCK celebrated the Easter week-end with a weighty and worthy program. Resphigi, who has made enormous strides as a composer since "The Fountains of Rome," ac counted for the high-spot with "Church-Windows," four symphonic impressions suggested, respectively, by the Flight into Egypt, St. Michael's celestial wars, the Matins of St. Clare, and the majesty of the great Pope Gregory. This is visual music of the highest order, powerfully suggestive and colorful. The sad wanderings of Mother and Child, the heavenly bat tles of Michael drawn with bold inter vals in the brass section, the clang of the doors of St. Peters as the Pontiff and his train emerge into the square, all these images impinge upon the mind at the command of a symphonist who is doing more within the old- fashioned framework of the symphonic poem than any of his contemporaries. As soloists the musical younger set had a real fling. Sowerby, at the or gan bench, made much of a quasi-solo part in his own "Medieval Poem." For originality of orchestration and idea this piece is, with the possible ex ception of his "King Elsmere Rhap sody," the best thing he has done. Barre Hill, Chicago baritone, sang well in DeLamarter's notion of Psalm CXLIV. The part was a bit low for TI4QCI4ICAGOAN 25 him and he has yet to learn much more about diction, but the upper register of his voice displays beautiful quality. The services closed with the Good Friday Spell, the Transformation Scene and Glorification from "Parsi fal" and these excerpts are the cream of that music-drama and as fine as anything Wagner ever wrote. To top it all, the orchestra was in festive and youthful mood and the conductor at the top of his gait. "Jurgen" EXCEPT for a few saving moments of Bach and the concert arrange ment of the Quintet and March of the Guilds from Meistersinger, the regu lar symphony program of March 30-31 was a complete flop. The principal novelty for the pair of concerts was Deems Taylor's symphonic poem, "Jur gen." It was to be hoped that the orchestral version of Cabell's wise and juicy tale would considerably dent the atmosphere in the Michigan Boulevard tone emporium.. We had even im agined that the piece would be pro vocative enough to bring down an indignant delegation of conservatory Comstocks, armed with Jadassohn's Harmonie and credentials from Mr. Sumner himself. Sadly enough, however, the score was highly moral. Where the feeling of the composer, to our mind, should have been Gallic, it was Hoch-Deutsch, imitative of Strauss and Wagner. Cabell could be translated into music. It is in the cards that someone might come along and transfer his wistful- ness, his wit, wisdom, and carnality to the engraved score. But Mr. Taylor is not the gentleman. For all the re lation his work bears to the saga of Jurgen, he might have called it "Claire Ambler." The soloist was Mr. Wallenstein, first cellist of the band, and he, per haps through his own fault, had a bad break. His first offering was a singu larly ungrateful suite for ten solo in struments and cello by Paul Hinde- mith, young German modernist. Wal lenstein waded expertly through the mazes of this bleak work. It is atonal to the point of sterility, and all its ribs stick out more plainly because the sparseness of the chamber organization contributes too little actual volume to take the edge from the worst disso nances. In the words of somebody or other, give us the good old days of MARIE EARLE REPEATS, "BUT YOU DO NOT HAVE TO BE A WOMAN OF YOUR AGE" TIME, in its inexplicable flight, may leave your mysterious "you" younger tomorrow than yesterday. Looking younger next week than you did last year! Marie Earle, for so long a specialist in faces, has seen this happen to women from all over the world. This is why she re peats so often, "But you do not have to be a woman of your age." Marie Earle's Essential Cream, her Cucumber Emulsion, and the Marie Earle lotion that is right for your skin make up the simple, sen sible treatment that has endeared Marie Earle to lovely women every where. For special conditions there are special preparations — the Marie Earle treatment is always individualized. In smart Chicago shops, Marie Earle preparations, cosmetics, per fumes and bath accessories are sold. Prices are distinctly reasonable. Both night and morning use the Essential Cream first to cleanse and second to nourish the skin. With the second application use the Cucumber Emulsion, a combiner that hastens the absorption and the assimilation of the nourishment in the creams. ... In this climate, the Soothing Freshener Lotion is right for most skins. These three prepara tions comprise Basic Treatment Number 2, for dry skins. * * All Marie Earle prepa rations are perfectly pure and will keep. f!SG. U.S. PAT. OFF/CE Established Paris, 1910 Now at 660 Fifth Avenue New York City 26 TUECI4ICAGOAN Stravinsky. His other sacrifice to the gallery-gods was a cello concerto by a man named Schoenefeld who used to live in Milwaukee. The only plausible explanation for it is that, once, when the orchestra made one of its regular trips to the Wisconsin town, Mr. Schoenefeld had a rousing beer party and somebody made a rash promise. Wax Works The late releases from the haunts of his master's voice and the magic notes of Co lumbia have been so indifferent that we are forced to call your attention to a recording several weeks old, "Le Carnaval des Ani- maux," played for Columbia by Georges True and an anonymous orchestra. M. Saint-Saens' successful attempt to divert the pretty ladies of the Empire Period. It sounds best with a rather soft needle. The Brahms F Minor Quintet done by the Leners with the assistance of Olga Loeser-Lebert (sounds like L) will be a necessity for collectors of chamber music. The boys and girl put a lot of passion in this opus of Johannes and the piano main tains a fine balance throughout although the part is exceptionally difficult. (Columbia.) Two more Wagnerian achievements from the Victor catalogue, "Kein Regel Wollte da Passen" and "Was Duftet Doch Der Fleider" from Meistersinger. Friedrich Schorr and the Berlin State Orchestra led by Blech. What ho, now for a complete acoustical recording of this master work and we will all be happy and broke. Ravinians who are partial (and why not?) to Lucrezia Bori can get a good sample on the wax of two representative airs, "Un Bel Di" from "Butterfly" and "Mi Chiamano Mimi" from "La Boheme." And if you could see the diva at the same time — but we can't have everything. The Better Rolls The player-piano players are letting up on the job with the approach of Spring, gentle Spring, but there are nevertheless some attractive numbers on the March lists. Mr. Harold Bauer, for instance, makes for Duo-Art the Childhood Scenes of Schu mann, which look so easy and sound so dull unless played by a master. As far as Schumann is concerned, the mellow Harold is masterly and he brings to these little pieces a kindly whimsicality that is just right. Ampico turns out two good old standbys in the Beethoven-Rubinstein "Turkish March" and the Wagner-Liszt "Spinning Song." The former comes off well at the hands of Rachmaninoff, long since dubbed Blue Serge by the wise-crackers in New York; and the latter, one of Liszt's typical ly orchestral piano arrangements, just as excellently from the thin fingers of the young Russian, Alexandre Brailowsky. On hearing it the impudent thought occurs to us that Liszt was quite a song-plugger for his son-in-law and that Clarence Mackay ought to do something for Irving. Newsprint The Politics Complex By EZRA CHICAGO has just been treated, if that is the word, to another of its traditionally fantastic exhibitions of the politics complex to which the otherwise hard-headed and astute fra ternity of newspaper publishers seems somehow inevitably heir. For weeks readers of the Tribune, especially, and • in somewhat lesser degree those of all other local dailies, have been con fronted with column upon column, page upon page, of childish prattle roughly — sometimes very roughly in deed — classified as political news. THE straw ballot, a graphic device used by newspapers for the past 50 years, got a big play. Day after day it was ubiquitous. Its purpose was, appar ently, to instill confidence in the boys who wish to string along with a win ner. And papers which regularly limit important public address and in terviews to a paragraph or two quoted TWECUICAGOAN 27 at length from the orations of states men who evinced little intelligence and less understandable English, and who made the same speech, varied by a few epithets, throughout the whole cam paign. Heart interest was introduced when a few lady reporters were ejected from political meetings. Lest ejectors fail to recognise the right ejectees, the martyrs came wearing badges of the opposition. Bodily force was not used, alas, but the well-planned stories ap peared as scheduled. The Tribune's high moral stance made such a hit with dry churchmen in a wet city that the cloth refrained from attacking the paper's wet advo cacy until after the election. A Chris tian forbearance of note. ON the other hand, the Herald- Examiner, possibly because it felt it had to stand opposite the Tribune, championed a ticket admit tedly unpopular in the better suburbs. And thus neatly undid in two weeks a two year campaign for so-called "class circulation" in these same suburbs. Finally, an analysis of election re turns indicates that all in all the metro politan press had a smaller influence on the recent election than ever be fore. If anything is proved, it is that the community doesn't like "pineapples." Bombing is a distasteful business in Chicago, and when Oak Park is blasted — !! The common people filed to the ballot box and achieved an ex plosion of their own. The sovereign voter blamed his of fice holders for permitting bombing. Consequently, he conferred his elec toral choice on the anti-administration candidates, newspapers or no news papers. But there his wrath cooled a bit. He righteously voted the top of the ticket for the "outsiders." For the "insiders" at the bottom of the long primary slip he voted too. He didn't know the candidates in the yard-long list. He didn't care. He certainly did not bother to clip and copy newspaper recommendations. The bond issues — and each paper vociferously favored one or more bond series — were resoundingly defeated. Favored or not, they were rejected two to one. IF, indeed, the newspaper is a busi ness institution, then it is absurd business management to jockey into a reckless, mud-slinging, hysterical Chi- <&.. LEADERSHIP HE fact that hams look alike doesn't mean they taste alike! We've special ized in the production of pork products for 35 years, and have earned our leader ship by using only the choicest of this great market's top selection of corn fed young porkers. Roberts' Sweetmeat Brand Hams are America's best hams on a strictly quality basis. Until now we have been unable to supply the demand from those who know good ham and will have none other. Extensive additions to our plant provide a wider distribution for this pre ferred ham with its distinctive flavor. If your dealer cannot supply you, we'll give you the name of the one nearest to you who can. Roberts & Oake CHICAGO Pork products exclusively since 1895* cago campaign. John Herts of the Yellow Cab Company — although far more needful of decent consideration at the hands of political job-holders than any newspaper near Lake Michi gan — would not sensibly augment his reputation as a shrewd business man by plastering his cabs with exhortations to vote the Whoosis ticket. Nor could a department store sanely announce in its window display that "Brown says Jones looks like a Baboon." During the campaign, Thompson boomed: "What do the Tribune and J^lew s expect for the hundreds of thou sands of dollars in publicity lavished on candidates?" The answer is: A thundering headache. Maybe it's fun for the publishers. Most businesses are not hardy enough to stand it, per haps the newspapers can. But usually, a discreet business man contributes generously — and quietly — to both campaign funds. Then he carefully draws the curtain. And votes his secret vote. ? It has been said — perhaps "charged" would be a better word — that McCarthy is clannish. — Ed W. Smith in The Chicago Evening American. Yes, we should say, it would be — much better. TUECUICAGOAN The CWICACOCNNE Birthdays for Gifts By ARC YE WILL I'M grievously disappointed. Any historical event worth the mention has invariably had a reflection in wom en's style. We remember the helmet chapeau of the World War and, more laterly, the airplane ornaments spon sored by the gallant flight of Colonel Lindbergh. Imagine my disappoint ment when, in the wake of our recent torrid election, I searched the shops in vain for a gown with a pineapple motif — not even a bomb done in brilliants for a hat orna ment was to be found! I get so exhausted be ing shown the same identical dress in shop after shop, each shop man saying with great pride and assurance, it's his own private impor tation. I didn't really have the heart to go to more than one dress shop this week. I must admit this remark was not made at Pearlie Powells, quite the con trary, the sales girl be ing adjured not to show me a Ford. They have some very smart things. A green and white, finely pleated crepe with a waist length separate cape. A light tan mixture tweed coat with polka dot lin ing and simple dress to match and my choice to describe in de tail, a simple flat crepe. (See sketch.) This is copied also in Crepe Minette or printed chiffon, is Miller Soeur's model and is made to order. Princi pally interesting for its detailed sim plicity. The line of the scallop, at top of flounce on skirt, showing on the waist, inverted tucks across back of neck, tight buttoned sleeves, and the waist quite bloused in back, being held in place by the belt, not stitched. IN the rear of 1008 North Dearborn Street, Secession, Ltd., have one of the most modern and colorful shops I have seen in ages. Entered from a narrow area way, a low ceilinged room filled with colorful prints, furniture and hangings is most impressive. At one end of the room has been built a special cabinet and in looking through the drawers and com partments of this is where your fun commences. The imported draperies from Vi enna, which are heavy enough for upholstery and hangings without lin ing, are in fascinating colors. One, a shaded black and yellow stripe, would be marvelous in a breakfast room. Really enough to make one like any sort of breakfast. A Rodier material in tan, green and red, is on the order of Herter Looms of New York, special, but is much cheaper and should make a reupholstered couch very snappy. They will make furni ture for you, all hand made; a maple breakfast set seen there is so soft in finish it almost looks like satin wood. The lithographic drawings and water colors of Peter Hunt decorate the walls and his set depict ing Robert Louis Ste venson's Suicide Club is delightful. Lamps, colorful inex pensive pottery, and modern tin holders for flowers com plete their showing. Reminiscent of Frankl's and Rena Rosenthal's in New York, but so much more attractive and complete that their opening is posi tively an acquisition. t; 'HE PEOPLES GAS CO., 122 South Michigan, can do more than supply us with ranges, heat and bills. It has some new helps for the housewife. If you need something to lighten your weary way, you can pur chase all utensils with wooden handles painted in brilliant colors. This should help when grasping the potato masher for good or for evil. A new strainer- cover pot protects TUE CWICAGOAN 29 the hands from the steam and a top broiler is also new and convenient. An orange squeezer for the husband fixing cocktails — pardon, beverages — really holds something and is of painted china, so that a stray guest assisting at the operation will be pleased if not surprised. Orange peel ers, star shaped choppers, combination mincers and egg cutters, tiny little Roper stoves to start the kiddie in the right way, are here shown for your encouragement. 1 SPOKE in the last issue of a hem stitching place. Besides doing this the Parker Button and Pleating Co., on the eleventh floor of the Stevens Building does that unusual French pleating which is so lovely for your summer sport skirts, and will also re- pleat them for you. One day service is their specialty. If you should be struggling with a dress, they do shir ring too, which makes your ruffles or what have you, much better than if done by yourself. Jean Boetter on the same floor is the one to take your china and bric-a-brac to be mended. She has some old pewter there, too. A Benjamin Frank lin and a whale oil lamp, And quite a bit of new pewter, one very smart looking coffee set especially. And on a table 'way at the back a small oc tagonal Mother of Pearl powder box, lined with celluloid and a mirror in the top. I would even be willing to have a birthday for it! Miss Carey's French Novelty Shop, on the tenth floor of the Stevens Build ing, I'm sure is familiar to you all. Some new arrivals are worthy of note. A purple glass lamp, with solid gold bronze base, is very good. A shade, made to order, of imported French prints and one of green and gold bro cade stand out as being especially good. And if you need a gift for anyone, here are a few of the things she has: Leather bags, in tans, rose, blue and green, sets of very small painted match boxes sold in isinglass containers, frames and waste-baskets. Imported, these, one and all. The_Mail I Letters of general interest to Chi' cagoans are published, when signed with full name and address. " — for Art's Sake" CHICAGO, ILL.— To the Editor: If you are not too busy "cracking like a whip," may I call your attention (a draw ing illustrating Mr. Samuel Putnam's "Paris Letter" in the April 7 ChicagOAN is en closed) to the fact that no omnibus oper ated in the city of Paris has — or ever has had — seats for passengers on the upper deck. It simply isn't done there. . . . Neither would the word "Maison" be likely to ap pear as the final word of a firm name on a window. Usually, when the word is used in this way, it denotes "The House of So- and-So." Thus the noun is followed by another word as, for example — "Maison Blanche," "Maison Dubonnet," etc. Ex ceptions are rare. . . . And also, the French write the figure five differently than it appears on the card stuck in the pile of mineral wool or whatever it is in the fore ground. On closer inspection it must be curled hair or angle worms, probably the latter, since the French are notoriously kind to animals, — Robert M. Wenban, 1347 N. Dearborn St. (Note: Our correspondent qualifies in The Chicagoan's sharp-shooters' contest; he scores three bulls'-eyes. But he did not stop to think that the people on the bus- top might have been part of the crowd which overflowed every vehicle in its stam pede out to the flying field to see Lind bergh land. ... Or else that the drawing is a wartime reminiscence, and depicts one of the London busses which waddled around France in the early days of 1914, carrying British soldiers to the rescue of Papa Joffre. As for that "Maison" sign, it may be assumed that the heads of the shoppers con ceal the final word in the announcement. ... Or else that the artist intended to make it the "Maison Tellier," in memory of Maupassant, and was overcome with a sense of prudery before he could finish the lettering. It is true that the French write the figure five illegibly. They also write all other numerals with the same disregard for arith metic, particularly when it comes to the computation of the additions. The artist forgave them this custom, because he did not wish to offend the Francophiles of the Boul. Mich. The junk on sale at the booth might easily be mineral wool, curled hair or angle worms, as our correspondent states. The artist's intention was to leave the matter in doubt — and we don't know a better place for our correspondent or ourselves on the question. — The Editors.) True Beauty Wisdom — consists not in letting nature ta\e its course, but in ta\ing a course of scientific beauty treat' merits. And for the ultimate in scientific beauty treatments, the beauty-wise consider it a duty to their charm, to visit regularly the exotic new Maison de Beaute Valaze of HELENA RUBINSTEIN, the most distinguished beauty scientist in the world. Sanely, speedily The Valaze Beauty Treatments and Preparations created by HELENA RUBINSTEIN, renew youth's radiance in the skin and re mold the facial contours to the gay, up-curving lines of youth! To assure the absolute triumph of your beauty's ensemble — a harmonious cultivation of hair, hands and figure, as well as the face — you must visit this modern "temple of beauty." CUBIST Helena Rubinstein's newest lipstic\ sensation It is a lipstick typically Rubinstein, which means, as all true connoisseurs of such things know, perfect becom- ingness, unquestioned purity and ex cellence. And in a case that simply breathes Paris — a chic, modernistic oblong, Black or Golden, perfectly appropriate to every occasion from dawn to dawn! The lipstick shades are — Red Raspberry (medium or light), becoming to all types, and Red Geranium the gay, vivid shade so irresistible on everyone — and to everyone — in the evening! As to the price, that will be a distinct sur prise to you — 1.00. Valaze Water Lily Make-up — contains the youth-renewing essence of water lily buds. Water Lily Powder — exquisitely fine and clingy. Novena (for dry skins), Complexion (for normal and oily skins) 1.50. Water Lily Lipstick — two enchanting shades Red Ruby (Medium), Red Cardinal, 1.25. In Chinese Red, Jade Green or Jet Black case, to match compacts. Double Compact, 2:50; Golden, 3.00. Single Compact, 2.00; Golden, 2.50. 670 N. Michigan Avenue Chicago. Telephone for Appointment — Whitehall 4242 8 East 57th Street, New York Paris London Philadelphia Boston Detroit Newark 30 TUECWICAGOAN ALLERTON HOUSE To see it is to want to live there To live here is to be at home — iv hen away from home! Michigan at Huron Chicago Extensive Comfortable Lounges Resident Women's Director Special Women's Elevators Fraternity Rooms Ball and Banquet Rooms Circulating Library Billiards Chess Cafeteria Athletic Exercise Rooms Allerton Glee Club in Main Dining Room Monday at 6:30 P. M. The World's Largest Indoor Golf Course CRAIG WOOD Professional in charge 18 Holes — Driving nets Sand traps — 6 Water Holes Public invited. ALLERTON HOUSE WEEKLY RATES PER PERSON Slngla . • 912.00 — $20.00 Double • • $8.00 — $15.00 Transient • $2.50 $3.50 Descriptive Leaflet on Request CHICAGO CLEVELAND NEW YORK BOOK/ That Guilty Feeling By SUSAN WILBUR TECHNICALLY speaking, I am not a flapper. Though I would rather paint this town or any other town red in young company than in old. Neither do I have gray hairs, dyed yellow, and a grown daughter. But Cosmo Hamilton is a proper re vivalist. And before I was a third of the way through "'Daughters of Folly'" I had made up my mind once and for all never to do it again. The fact that I never had done it making no differ' ence, of course. Unless perhaps to make me feel that to have danced the sun up every morning as Fay Rogers did, uncrowned queen — no, uncrowned is perhaps ambiguous, owing to the fact that the younger set sometimes tossed the hotel china about — of the circus at Vichy, or even to have had at com' mand, as Mrs. Rogers had, the hand somest and best dressed man in all France, would be indiscretions well worth repenting of. That is, of course, if it weren't for poor overworked father back in New York buying fur coats for his stenographer in the dog days. Another book this week that has has made me feel uncomfortably re- sponsible is Charles Mers's "Great American Band Wagon." Personally, I rather dislike getting on band wagons. That is why I had put off reading this book, which is itself some- thing of a band wagon, being a Liter- ary Guild choice, which means forty thousand, or is it fifty thousand, peo ple reading it at half price before publication. Technically I am not guilty of any one of its chapters. I am not one of the seven million that tunes in each evening from seven until two to hear the beat of the primeval tom-tom. Though, come to think of it, I may have been counted in that seven mil' lion. I once owned a five dollar set, might own it yet, of course, if the son of a neighbor hadn't borrowed the crystal. Nor do I drive any one of the twenty- two million cars that start out early of a Sunday morning and hurry half the day in order to arrive at a point far enough away to make it necessary to turn at once and hurry home again. Neither do I play golf, nor sit in ringside seats at pri^e fights, Mountain Valley Water from HOT SPRINGS (ARK.) The finest mineral water on earth Unexcelled as a table water yet possessing unusual beneficial proper ties. Recommended by physicians every where for more than seventy years. Available in the finest hotels, clubs, restaurants and on crack trains. Drink it at home and in vour office. WE DELIVER Mountain Valley Water Co. 739 W. Jackson Blvd. Monroe 5460 North Shore Branch, Evans: on Ph. Creenleaf 4777 good old eliza Night after night, she has a har rowing time of it. Uncertainties, delays, and like as not an icy recep tion before she gets across. That's her job. Not so the alert theatre goer: i.e., the man who stops at a Couthoui, Inc.* stand for tickets. No uncer tainties, no delays, no icy reception at the box office for him. He is assured of excellent seats for reason ably priced tickets in ample time. His theatre parties always go across. No job at all. The sensible thing to do. COUTHOUI For Tickets * The alert theatre goer can make his selection at a Couthoui, Inc., stand at the Congress, Blackstone, Drake, La Salle, Mor« rison, Stevens, Sherman and Seneca hotels. Or at the Hamilton, C. A. A., I. A. C, Union League, Standard and University Clubs. TI4ECWCAG0AN 31 nor compete in bathing beauty contests, nor build Spanish bungalows, nor make a half million and one of the half million that goes to Europe each sum' mer in order to tell Europe what's the matter with it. But sodas! Yes, I'd like one this minute. Thirsty work, writing. But no, on the other hand, shall I ever want a soda again? "One-half billion dollars1 worth of soda washes its way annually into the great American stomach,' ' says Mr. Mers in his chap ter on "The New American Bar." Is it a nice way, I ask you, to talk about a body's simple, harmless, standardised, unprohibited pleasures? i The Best Written Best Seller 4 i A/T R. HODGE AND MR. HAZ- IV1 ARD," by Elinor Wylic, is undoubtedly the best written novel of the Spring. Which is what one would expect from the author of "Jennifer Lorn" and its successors. But while "Mr. Hodge and Mr. Hazard" is beau' tifully written it is not merely fine writing. Mrs. Wylie has done two things which are seldom done in com' bination. The "mannered writing" is one and the other is the evocation of a personality at once individual and typical, exotic and English. Mr. Haz ard is not a portrait of any one of the English romantic poets but he is a fig ure in which they may all be summed up. Contemporary with Shelley and also with the very young Mr. Browning, he has fought for Greece, led a private life, idealistic enough but shocking to the middle-classes, is learned in Ian- guages and philosophy and is yet a UtO' pian radical and a friend of the workingman in politics. The story opens when he returns to England, aging and in bad health. Fleeing the too insistent hospitality of a friend — a typically impecunious editor — and af ter a horrible siege of influenza, he finds an enchanted hall by the bank of the Thames, enchanted for him be cause it is the home of sixteen-year'old Allegra, with whom he does not even know that he is in love, so crystalline is the Platonic flame which he catches from her. But her mother, who does know it, and who knows Mr. Hazard by reputation and is not afraid of him, makes herself his friend, encourages him to read his dramatic rendering of the Job legend — even if Allegra and her sister cannot understand his read' ings — and would have sent him back to Lafayette and First Detroit 22 floors 900 rooms All equipped with Servidors INVITING you to the enjoyment of its enlarged service and hospitality, Hotel Fort Shelby offers you accommodations of first quality amid sur roundings of great comfort. The theaters, the smart shops — all downtown Detroit — practically at the door. Very comfortable rooms, $2.50, $3, $4 a day; also larger, more richly furnished rooms and suites. Garage near; guests' cars delivered without special service charge. J. E. Frawley, Manager QUIETLY ELEGANT ! A residential hotel, quietly elegant, exclusive, whose hap pier living has won so many substantial people. Luxurious, sun-swept suites — - many furnished and with kit chenettes. A convenient home, 'mid elm trees, beautiful in Spring, Glorious in Summer. University 8700 Gtiw RRINGTON ILLINOIS EVANSTONi Evanston's Largest and Finest Hotel They claim to have lived . . . yet they've never done Europe by Motor . . . it all seems so absurd. Won't some kind person send them "Europe by Motor"? A story of sleek cars . . . knowing chauf feurs, thrilling itineraries, and unexpected joys. FRANCO-BELGIQUE TOURS CO., INC. "Europe by Motor" American Personnel 333 Michigan Ave., Chicago, 111. 32 TI4E CHICAGOAN LUNCHEON — DINNER — SUPPER TOM "WHO'S WHO IN CHICAGO" A list of patrons of the Petrushka Club reads like a page fr«m Chicago's "Who's Who." They are the elite of society and the arts^those who appreciate the gay "Chauvc Souris" entertainment, captivat ing Gypsy Orchestra music, original, intimate atmosphere, and delightful Russian-French cuisine that characterise Petrushka. $etru*f)fea Club Ely Khmara, Manager Phone Wabash 2497 403 S. Wabash Ave. Importers AFTER EASTER EXHIBIT OF THE LATEST MODELS FROM THE LEADING FRENCH HOUSES. 6 TsJ. Michigan Ave. Chicago, III. Right Now— TO be fully informed of all the news of the game — with the opening of the glorious outdoor season but a few weeks away — is the time to subscribe to POLO "The Magazine of the Game" One year $5.00 Two years 8.00 Three years 10.00 Quigley Publishing Co. 407 S. Dearborn St. Chicago On Sale at Brentmno's Spain and his wife a happy man if it had not been for the intrusion of the hard-headed, large'footed Mr. Hodge — her children's tutor, her unofficial agent, and a shining example of Brit' ish solidity and stolidity. But Mr. Hodge is clever enough to be able to wound a sensitive man: and two words break Mr. Hazard's enchantment. Only those who know the period will appreciate the consummate art with which Mrs. Wylie has woven the pattern of the poetic psychology of the time into her narrative, but everyone will feel the living pulse of Mr. Ha?' ard's heart as it is enticed and cheated. To Say Nothing of — ^/nAD GIRL," by Vina Delmar, is O a first novel by a dweller in white Harlem who is not much older than her heroine and who knows the life of the girl office worker from hav ing lived it. Miss Delmar's characters are to be found all over large parts of New York, they do a lot of its work — office work, shop work, radicrepairing — they go to Coney Island or up the Hudson on boats where they dance and make love. But they have never ap' peared in a novel before. They make a compelling, pathetic, and very real story. Books of the Week Lawrence and the Arabian Adventure, by Robert Graves. Illustrations edited by Eric Kennington. (Doubleday, Doran and Co.) Prince Dynamite, as the Arabs called him, is already a legend in Arabia, and even in America he has gone into almost as many versions, no two alike, as our own legendary hero Paul Bunyan. This new book will supply for readers of Lawrence's "Revolt in the Desert"' a beginning and an end to that exciting tale of desert warfare, besides making the middle a whole lot clearer. It is based on the $20,000 version, "Pillars of Wis dom" and upon talks with Lawrence him- self — no not Lawrence now, but Private Shaw of the Royal Air Force. Mary Todd Lincoln: An Appreciation of the Wife of Abraham Lincoln, by Honore Willsie Morrow. (William Mor- row and Co.) When feminism has ad' vanced a step further and it becomes evident that all the deeds of great men were really done indirectly by their wives, Mrs. Morrow, author of "Forever Free," the story of Lincoln's years in the White House, ought to come in for her share of fame as the discoverer of the woman who freed the slaves. "Mary Todd Lincoln" is not a new biography. It is a first one. Old Deadwood Days, by Estelline Ben- nett. (J. H. Sears and Co.) In "Old Deadwood Days," Miss Bennett, who has been for some years a dweller of Chi' cago's newspaper row, calls forth mem- . ories that make the Chicago of the city desk, which is Chicago at its bombiest, seem like a Sunday School. Deadwood was a wide open town in the early days, which meant, apparently, that if you wanted to be conservative you could be and still know the people who weren't. Calamity Jane, Sheriff Seth Bullock, Wild Bill Hickock, and many another pioneer, gambler, two gun man, and murderer, were among the acquaintances of the daughter of the Federal Judge. Shoddy, by Dan Brummitt. (Willett, Clark and Colby, 440 South Dearborn Street.) A novel which is likely to cause more excitement among the Methodists and their bishops than Elmer Gantry did. The World in the Making, by Count Hermann Keyserling. Translated by Maurice Samuel. (Harcourt Brace and Co.) One way of keeping up with Keyserling is to read his books. This is his latest, and shortest, and contains his autobiography. STATEMENT OF THE OWNERSHIP, MANAGE- MENT. CIRCULATION, ETC., REQUIRED BY THE ACT OF CONGRESS OF AUGUST 24, 1912 Of The Chicagoan published bi-weekly at Chicago, Illinois, for April 1, 1928. State of Illinois 1 8S County of Cook j Before me, a Notary Public in and for the State and county aforesaid, personally appeared George Clifford, who, having been duly sworn according to law, deposes and says that he is the Business Manager of The Chicagoan and that the following is, to the best of his knowledge and belief, a true statement of the ownership, management (and if a daily paper, the circulation), etc., of the aforesaid publication for the date shown in the above caption, required by the Act of August 24, 1912, embodied in section 411, Postal Laws and Regulations, printed on the reverse of this form, to wit: 1. That the names and addresses of the publisher, editor, managing editor, and business managers are: Publisher, Martin J. Quigley, 407 S. Dearborn St. Editor, Martin J. Quigley, 407 S. Dearborn St. Managing Editor, William R. Weaver, 407 S. Dear born St. Business Manager, George Clifford, 407 S. Dear born St. 2. That the owner is: (If owned by a corporation, its name and address must be stated and also immedi ately thereunder the names and addresses of stock holders owning or holding one per cent or more of total amount of stock. If not owned by a corpora tion, the names and addresses of the individual owners must be given. If owned by a firm, company, or other unincorporated concern, its name and address, as well as those of each individual member, must be given.) The Chicagoan Publishing Co., 407 S. Dearborn St. Martin J. Quigley, 407 S. Dearborn St. 3. That the known bondholders, mortgagees, and other security holders owning or holding 1 per cent or more of the total amount of bonds, mortgages, or other securities are: (If there are none, so state.) None. 4. That the two paragraphs next above, giving the names of the owners, stockholders, and security holders, if any, contain not only the list of stock holders and security holders as they appear upon the books of the company but also, in cases where the stockholder or security holder appears upon the books of the company as trustee or in any other fiduciary relation, the name of the person or corporation for whom such trustee is acting, is given; also that the said two paragraphs contain statements embracing affiant's full knowledge and belief as to the circum stances and conditions under which stockholders and security holders who do not appear upon the books of the company as trustees, hold stock and securities in a capacity other than that of a bona fide owner; and this affiant has no reason to believe that any other person, association, or corporation has any interest direct or indirect in the said stock, bonds, or other securities than as so stated by him. 5. That the average number of copies of each issue of this publication sold or distributed, through the mails or otherwise, to paid subscribers during the six months preceding the date shown above is (This information is required from daily publications only.) George Clifford, Sworn to and subscribed before me this 29th day of March, 1928. (Seal) James P. Prendergast. (My commission expires February, 1929.) Caroline a dear girl not late, exactly — but tardy A FINE FAMILY. Well brought up. Personable. Pleasant. And *£^- agreeably able. Traces of a good mind. Yet — tardy. She hears of a new night club the day after Mr. Yellowley has left his card with the manager. She becomes aware of a popular book only three months before it is available at the public library. At the Arts Ball she noticed Tom and Helen seemed unusually friendly; they are to be married next week. And she is sure something ought to be done if these bombings get any worse. Naturally, her friends who live in a highly contemporary era find Caroline something of a trial. Now — <Th CWICAGOAN — witty, zestful, alive and knowing — discerningly aware of the civi lized interests and pleasantly cognizant of a good many uncivilized pursuits — is extremely contemporary. A magazine to bring Caro line's mental balance down to the first of any given month. And — below — a coupon for Caroline. Of course Caroline would be tardy, too, at the news stand. For the young lady's many well-wishing friends, the dotted line 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 A Sunny Day on Michigan Boulevard When society is on dress parade and myriad cars crowd the great thorough fare, note how those equipped with VOGUE TIRES exact the instant hom age of all eyes — the encomiums of all lips. A thousand cars not VOGUE equipped may pass and, however costly the model, claim no admiring. glance or pleasant comment. The world's most beautiful tires with their creamy white side walls and finely wrought ebony tread are an in dispensable part of the equipment of any car that "belongs". The fact that more than SIXTY PER CENT of the deluxe cars of Chicago are VOGUE equipped shows how widespread is the appreciation of tires that accentuate costly craftsmanship and symmetry of line. And to this superb beauty is joined those amazing qualities of wear that are only possible with faultless construction. VOGUE TIRES de liver far more miles of satisfactory serv ice for every dollar invested than any other tire. In appearance, traction, long mileage and perfect balance CHICAGO ac claims VOGUE the standard of com parison. VOGUE RUBBER COMPANY HARRY C. HOWER, Pres. Indiana Ave. at 2 1th St., Chicago OGUE CUSTOM BUILT Balloons