For Forfni^bf Ending June30J928 Price 15 Cents THE ORTHOPHONIC VICTROLA, MODEL EIGHT THIRTY-FIVE STEGER & SONS PIANO MFG. CO. Steger Building, Northwest Corner Wabash and Jackson VICTOR RECORDS VICTROLA-RADIOLA The Chicagoan — Martin J. Quigley, Publisher 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 Blvd. Subscription $3.00 annually, single copies 15c. Vol. V, No. 7 — For the Fortnight ending June 30. (On sale June 16.) Entered as second class matter at the Post-Office at Chicago, 111., under the act of March 3, 1879. THE CHICAGOAN l . % r REVELL7 M REMOVAL /ALE ^^fl ^^k 1/ NOW IN PROGRB// m M !¦'¦" — it's hanging fiimh&w- / If i j M&y ff J |;\ I up new records MWrl / 1 ^ I in value giving! This is Revell's first Removal Sale in 35 years! 35 years in one location ... 35 years on the N. E. Corner of Wabash and Adams . . . and in the late Autumn . . . they will move to their new building on the S. W. Corner of Wabash and Lake. This is really quite an event. This is a sale in every sense of the word. A wonderful opportunity to buy home furnishings of proved quality at sensational savings! And frankly, that's putting it mildly. The sale is on! REVELL'S at WABASH and ADAMS 2 TI4E CHICAGOAN OCCASIONS BEACH OPEHINP— Annual summer rite dependent on the weather confidently ex- pected any day now. SOLSTICE— The year's best effort at day light saving, June 21. COMMENCEMENT— Grade school finish- ing, June 21, 22. FIGHT— Mr. Walker meets Mr. Hudkins for the middleweight championship, Sox ball park, June 21. RACE — A dash to newsstand for a new Chicagoan, due June 30. SPORTS Baseball — Cubs — Boston at Boston, June 15, 16, 18, 18. St. Louis at Chicago, June 20, 21, 22, 23. Pittsburgh at Chi cago, June 24, 25, 26. Chicago at Cin cinnati, June 28, 29, 30, July 1. White Sox — Boston at Chicago, June 16, 17; Cleveland at Cleveland, June 19, 20, 21, 22. Detroit at Detroit, June 23, 24, 25, 26. Cleveland at Chicago, June 28, 29, 30, July 1. Golf — National Open Tournament, June 21-23, Olympia Fields. Western Open, June 27-30, North Shore Golf Club. Polo — Tom Thumb Handicaps, Oak Brook, June 17. York Polo Cup, June 24. Round Table Trophy, July 1 — all at Oak Brook. Tennis — Chicago City Championship Tournament, Chicago Town and Tennis Club, June 18. Boating — Chicago Yacht Club, Closed Regatta, all classes, 2:30 p. m., June 16. Columbia Yacht Club, Michigan City race, all classes, 9:30 a. m. Club Race, Chicago Y. C, June 30, all classes. Co lumbia Y. C, June 30, Class Q, open. Boxing — White City show through the courtesy of Mique Malloy, June 18. And the Wo-orlds Champeen middle-weight contest between Mickey Walker (right) and Ace Hudkins (left) at the White Sox Ball Park, June 21. Racing — The Arlington Track open and excellent. THE CHICAGOAN PRESENTS Boating, by D. C. Higginson Cover Current Entertainment for the fort night ending June 30.... Page 2 Arm-Chair Drama 3 Cinema Calendar 4 Notes and Comment, By Martin ]. Quigley 5 Intimate Chicago Views, by Burton Browne 6 The Convention — of 1860, byRegina Zimmerman 7 The Campus Reunion, by Ruth G. Bergman 9 A Family Matter, by Adolph Schust- erman 10 A Chicagoan on the Riviera, by Samuel Putnam 11 Pedal Extremities, by Walter H. Schmidt 12 The Chicago Plan, by Francis C. Coughlin 13 Fashion Note, by Leonard Dove 14 The Terwilliger Expedition, By Gene Markey 15 Chicagoans — Julius Rosenwald 17 Polo at Oakbrook, by Nat Karson.... 18 The Stage, by Charles Collins 19 The Cinema, by William R. Weaver.... 22 Newsprint, by Esra 24 Books, by Susan Wilbur 26 Music, by Robert Pollak 28 The Chicagoenne, by Arcye Will...... 30 A Journalistic Journey — The Out board Marathon '. 31 STAGE Musical Comedy GOOD HEWS— Selwyn, 180 North Dear born. Central 3404. Brisk, tuneful, sightly, a splendid revue. This piece is one of the warm spots this summer. Abe Lyman's orchestra. See it. Curtain 8:20. Sat. and Wed. 2:20. SUNK? DATS— Four Cohans, 119 North Clark. Central 8240. A competent musical show with Frank Mclntyre, Jeanette McDonald, Jack Sheehan and Carl Randall and pleasing nymphs ap propriately clad. Also worth while. Cur tain 8:30. Sat. and Wed. 2:30. Drama and Non-Musical ELMER THE GREAT— Blackstone, 60 East Seventh. Harrison 6609. Ring Lardner and George Cohan have done this comedy to be introduced June 18. By far the most pleasing thing in pros pect. To be reviewed. EXCESS BAGGAGE— Garrick, 64 West Randolph. Central 8240. Vaudeville affection movingly and accurately seen in a drama of back stage motives. A hit. Better see it. Curtain 8:30. Sat. and Wed. 2:30. A COMPANIONATE MARRIAGE— 132 North Dearborn. Central 0019. Poor stuff, woven around an honest phrase now, alas, become a boob puffer. A com petent cast. Perhaps worth time. Cur- tain 8:30. Sat. and Wed. 2:30. THE 19TH HOLE— Erlanger, 127 North Clark. State 2461. Charles Craven is comic at golf which, for people who re gard the wallop and walk game as funny, is moderately amusing. A fair sort of summer drama. Curtain 8:30. Sat. and Wed. 2:30. No Sunday performance. THE MAN WITH RED HAIR— Adelphi, 11 North Clark. Randolph 4466. A shudder drama for those who go to the theatre to be scared hairless. To be re viewed. Curtain 8:30. Sat. and Wed. 2:30. [continued on page 4] THE CHICAGOAN The Marble -Topped Table A Monologue with Not Incomprehensible Interruptions i By SIMON L. RAMEYNN The Hazelhursts are entertaining. Three couples have found a focal point — the marble'topped table in the drawing room. People of the world (the rest is immaterial) they identify themselves as they spea\. George: No lemon, Harry. Thank you. Dorothy: And just a bit more ginger ale, please. Ted: Splendid, Harry. Splendid. Harry: Ladies, Gentlemen — the state rests. Eleanor: 'Pillowed in silk,1 Harry, 'and scented down.' (She scents some down.) Excellent. Gerald: It is proper to begin such an evening as this with conversa tion. This early, at least, of a refined and elevated character. We may end with song. But now let us talk. Dorothy: Of the Arts? Harry: The arts do very well as a means; miserably as an end. There is no end to a discussion of the arts. Gerald: May I present a synopsis of the matter? I believe that talk of the arts is not to determine anything about the arts at all. But to elevate the talker in the opinion of his hearers. Am I right? Dorothy: Disarmingly frank, at least. Gerald: Thank you. Not too frank. We shall talk about painters. Let us synopsize — a Hollywood verb. Does everyone here know Murillo, Billy De Beck, Renoir, Picasso, Salcia Bahnc, Da Vinci, Emil Armin, Tinto retto, Toulouse-Lautrec, Sidney Smith and Henri Rousseau? Eleanor : Heavens ! Gerald: You do? Good. Then I can tell you nothing of them. We have completed a discussion of one of the most verbose arts. Ted: And painlessly, too. Gerald: Well, we will next con sider sports. There are jai alai, jiu-jitsu, falconry, roque and morris-dancing. I assume that you know the rules, play and na ture of all of them. Since our purpose is not to arrive at any opinion other than a state of mind toward the interlocutor, I shall go on. George: Go on. This promises to be the longest synopsis ever heard of. Gerald: I need not consider music, verse, mathematics, prose com position, ivory carving, cricket culture (a) of singing crickets and (b) of fighting crickets, Symurgy, osteopathy or hagiog- raphy. Eleanor: Certainly not hagi- ography. Gerald: The modern arts and in terests come in too. There is the art of restaurant dining, of restau rant abstinence. There are arts of dancing, dressing and reading Shumerian. Of flying. And of swimming and of reading dialect stories. The fact is that anything lively — either excessively well- bred or incredibly ill-bred — at once becomes a phenomenon in which the civilised man takes interest. Ted: But why? Gerald: Because surely some other civilized man will also evince curiosity concerning any one of these things. Dorothy: But must learning and a discussion of learning be so deadly serious? Gerald: Certainly not. I have simply attempted to take up the time between those crises so ad mirably managed by the governors of North Carolina and of South Carolina. There is a way out, a cheerful way. Read carefully some lively, restful, modern pub lication given over to an intelli gent survey of contemporary life. Harry: The devil, Gerald. You've wasted our time and imposed on the marble-topped table. We're all readers of THE CHICA GOAN. 4 TI4E CHICAGOAN CINEMA UHITED ARTISTS— Randolph at Dear born — Ramona, in the person of Dolores Del Rio, until supplanted by Buster Kea- ton in and as Steamboat Bill, Jr. The smartest cinema in town. Continuous exhibition, competent music and unmili- tant service. McVICKERS— 25 W. M a d i s o n— The Strange Case of Captain Ramper, dubi ously involved with polar expeditions and facts, until supplanted by Cossac\s, wherein John Gilbert again dons the be coming garb of the steppes and steps into clinches with pleasant peasant girls. A nice theatre this, just far enough off the beaten track to insure a certain pleasing quiet. No stage interruptions, and good music. ROOSEVELT— 110 N. State— The Drag Net, George Bancroft and others in the best gang picture to date, until such time as citizens tire of it. After that another good picture, for the theatre exhibits no other kind. A straight cinema, well con ducted, and usually not longer than two hours in getting back to starting point. CHICAGO — State at Lake — Happiness Ahead, the nonesuch Colleen Moore, June 17-23. Ladies of the Mob, chief among them being Clara Bow, June 24- 30. Overtures, organ solos, singers, danc ers and always something unexpected on the stage. Continuous. ORIENTAL— 20 W. Randolph— Half a Bride, something with Esther Ralston in it, June 17-23. Rac\et, no — not THE Rac\et, but a picture with Thomas Meighan — June 24-30. And Mark Fish er and his bandsmen between screenings. MONROE — Monroe at Dearborn — Chic\' en a la King, a girlygirly comedy, June 16-22. Fleet Wings, airy stuff, the seven days following. And always the new Movietone News, itself worth the admis sion. ORPHEUM — State at Monroe — Glorious Betsy, Conrad Nagel, Dolores Costello and Vitaphone, until replaced by The Lion and the Mouse, with about the same cast, in which the players speak even more frequently than in past speakies. Continuous. 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 gentlmen and snappy come back boys in high button coats and sailor straws. Call theatre for program infor mation. TABLES JBLACKSTONE HOTEL — 656 South Michigan. Harrison 4300. Cuisine and service known the world over. Extremely civilized. Margraff's stringed music. August Dittrich is headwaiter. STEVEKS HOTEL— 730 South Michigan. Wabash 4400. Husk O'Hare's dancing band in the main dining room from 6 until 8 p. m. Competent victualry and service in the world's greatest hotel. Stalder is headwaiter. CONGRESS HOTEL— Congress at Mich igan. Harrison 3800. Isham Jones dis courses melody in the showy Balloon Room. The glamour of Peacock Alley. And a nightly confluence of wise and [listings begin on page 2} worldly people. Ray Barrec is head- waiter. PALMER HOUSE— State at Monroe. Randolph 7500. A pleasant downtown inn offering good food, a fine orchestra and a minimum of bustle and whoopee. Very conveniently located. Mutchler is headwaiter. COLLEGE INN— Hotel Sherman. Frank lin 2100. Until 1 a. m. the Inn is lively with dining and dancing. The best after- theatre entertainment in town. Not too many inhibitions. And carefree cus tomers at the tables. Brown is head- waiter. GRANADA CAFE— 6800 Cottage Grove. Hyde Park 0646. New, gay, young and popular. Better choose a week night for dancing. Excellent dance music. Whole hearted attendance. Billy Leather is headwaiter. KELLY'S STABLES— Rush at Austin. Delaware 2141. A show place. Loud, informal, crowded and cheap. Tremend ous din. Harmless patrons. Johnny Akeley is headwaiter. LAKESHORE DRIVE HOTEL— 181 Lakeshore Drive. Superior 8500. The high point in Gold Coast hostelries, suave, aloof and exclusive. John Birgh is headwaiter. DRAKE HOTEL— Michigan Avenue at Lakeshore Drive. Superior 2200. Largest of the class inns. Genial, merry and comfortable. Dancing nightly to Bobby Meeker's orchestral sin. Peter Ferris is headwaiter. PEARSON HOTEL— 190 East Pearson. Quiet and well-bred. Extremely com petent menu. Impeccable people. A notable place for Sunday dinner. JULIENNES— 1009 Rush. Gargantuan meals after the art of Pappa Julienne, deceased (Helas!) but remembered by his cooks and assistants. Informal, very ro bust and a show place. Tuesdays and Fridays, froglegs. Madame Julienne pre sides. ST. HUBERT'S OLD EHGLISH GRILL —316 Federal. Wabash 0770. Albion's steaks and chops superbly wrought. Soothing service. Genuine atmosphere. CAFE LOUISIANE— 1341 South Mich igan. Michigan 1837. Victory 10533. Advertised as the best French restaurant in America this Creole food shop pushes the copy writer hard. A rapturous menu led by the lordly Pompano. ROCOCO HOUSE— 161 East Ohio. Ade quate European foods within easy walk ing distance from the loop. A possible solution to the daily lunch problem. A BIT OF SWEDEN— 1011 Rush. Dela ware 4598. Nordic cookery in a quaint tavern filled with nice people. Worth an evening. RED STAR INN— 1528 North Clark. Deleware 3942. Notable German grocer ies lovjngly prepared and bounteously served up in a gasthaus administered in the best Teutonic tradition. Great. IRELAHP'S OYSTER HOUSE— 632 N. Clark. Deleware 4144. A sea food palace with fare fit for Neptune himself. An excellent idea for after theatre supper. SALLY'S— 4650 Sheridan Road. A place for breakfast while the night is still young, say circa 6 a. m. Motley and merry diners. VICTOR HOUSE— 9 East Grand Avenue. Delaware 1948. Italian cookery hand somely done and generously served up. An eating palor, this — no distraction. CAPOLA— 5232 Lake Park Avenue. Hyde Park 4646. Not much to look at, but well managed in the kitchen. Excel lent Italian food. LAIGLON— 22 East Ontario. Delaware 1909. French cookery. A little music. Private dining rooms if desired. And the solicitude of Teddy Majerus. MARINE DIK.IH.G ROOM— Edgewater Beach Hotel. Longbeach 6000. A place, eminently proper, which comes more and more into favor as summer draws on. Dining, dancing and viewing the lake. William Nast is headwaiter. Very nice people, nicely entertained by the greatly favored Fowler and Tamara. BELMONT HOTEL — 3 1 56 Sheridan Road. Bittersweet 2100. SHORELAND HOTEL— 5454 Southshore Drive. Plaza 1000. Execellent places for dinner after a Sunday of motoring along Chicago's lakefront. PETRUSHKA CLUB— Closed (voluntar ily) for the dull summer season. CHICAGOAN PERSONS interested in the funny side of aviation — and there is a funny side, despite the normally serious aspect which the subject assumes for most people — have found something to talk about in an incident which hap pened in a recent seeing-Chicago-by-night flight. A very prominent and equally devoted husband and wife were in the plane which had just attained sufficient altitude to make the lights of the city the tiniest specks below. It being their initial- flight the first tremors of aviation were upon them, particularly the wife. When she realized that she had left solid ground beneath her and was rather helplessly aloft, she clutched her husband's arm nervously and thrust into his hand a purse, containing a quantity of jewels, with an entreaty that he safeguard it in case something happened to her. THE Texas editor who made so bold as to indicate an opinion that Col. Charles Lindbergh had commenced to fly a little high as far as his ground tactics are con cerned probably by now feels that his moment of national notoriety was purchased rather dearly. People do not like to be told things about their heroes. The demand always exceeds the supply and even some of our very best heroes soon commence to tarnish a bit, almost as quickly as their medals. So, to have gone on a clay feet hunt with respect to a hero who has rendered as good general satisfaction as has Col. Lindbergh could not help but have brought a modicum of castigation to anyone who had been so indiscreet as to have raised a dissenting voice amidst the popular clamor. But it was bound to come because that attitude of de tachment, so praise-worthy for the first few thousand times, could be persisted in until a degree of stolidity will have been reached at which the question would naturally arise as to whether one were sufficiently possessed of normal re-actions to know precisely what has been going on. THE public, long familar with the newspaper reporter's desperate efforts to score a news beat on the rival news paper, may now prepare itself for some tales from the cameramen connected with the motion picture news reels which, in some instances at least, will indicate that the press boys have been just a lot of good fellows, reason ably intent upon their work but hardly willing to go the whole distance. The public knows that with the landing of the Bremen flyers at Greenly Island heroic efforts were made to obtain motion pictures and rush these at the earliest possible mo ment to the motion picture theatres. Also various pub lished accounts make it quite plain that the competing cameramen were not in a playful mood with respect to allowing competitors to beat them back to civilization with their films. But recently the desperation of the competition, in a rather savage mood, has come to light. The only means of reaching the island was by airplane and representatives of the various news reels were so equipped. One of the first cameramen to reach the island had made his pictures and was preparing to take off on the return to civilization. The pictures he had made were taken late in the day and, upon second thought, he decided to remain over until the next morning, to make some addi tional views, and then start on his return journey. After the start was made the following morning the pilot of the plane signalled he was going to make a landing. When the plane reached the ground the cameraman learned from the pilot that some of the playful members of the competition had been tampering with the earth inductor compass, which was then some twenty degrees off. Had the night start been made the plane would have come down somewhere over the Atlantic, out of gas. THE long prevailing lament concerning Chicago's lack of a suitable hall for the holding of great indoor sporting events appears on the eve of being satisfied. The redoubt able Mr. P. T. Harmon (Harmon, not Barnum), West Side sporting impresario, has announced the completion of plans for a sport palace to cost some considerable number of millions of dollars and to afford seating accommoda tions for upwards of 25,000 persons. As Mr. Harmon goes about the execution of his plan we hear the echo of that peculiar local bark of pessimism which at times seems indigenous to the soil. Mr. Harmon, the echo says, is a visionary; he does not realize that Chicago is not New York City, etc., etc. However, it may be ob served, if Mr. Harmon is a visionary his under-slung jaw and general demeanor of a successful heavy-weight wres tling champion seems a somewhat inappropriate make-up for the role. But Mr. Harmon is not a visionary; throughout a career of many rather difficult pursuits he has had the habit of getting things done. Among the various reasons why we should like to see his latest project succeed is because of the discomfiture its success would be to that considerable number of people who seem to feel that Chicago should be committed to at least another fifty years of yokelism. — M ARTIN J.QUIGLEY. 6 THE CHICAGOAN Intimate Chicago Views Mr. Getz Arranges a Spontaneous Recefaon for a Visiting Hero TI4E CUICAGOAN The Convention — of 1860 With "Cheers for the Ticket, the Platform, and the Ladies of Chicago" By REGINA ZIMMERMAN IT is nearly eleven o'clock in Chicago, on the morning of May 16, 1860. For hours the crowds have been jam ming the corners of Lake and Market Streets. They are edging closer to the doors of the Wigwam, a huge frame building hastily constructed in the last few months. It is the first structure especially erected for the use of a national convention. It is to go down in history as the scene of the miracle of 1860. Another half hour — the three twenty-foot doors on Market Street are cautiously opened. The surging crowd tries to struggle past the stout doorkeepers, who, with Roman firm ness, thrust back all but ticket holders. There is a clamor at the central en trance. Ladies accompanied by gentle men are to have seats in the gallery. School girls have been bribed (a quarter each) to pilot the masculine entrants; a washer- woman with a bundle of clothes has given similar serv ice. But one young blade secures an Indian squaw selling moccasins. The native princess is denied. "She ain't no lady!" is the dictum of the doughty keeper of the door. Rough and unplaned, the walls of the exterior hide their bareness in fes toons of foliage and red, white and blue streamers. A platform extends across the entire front. Back of it is the brick wall of an adjoining store. It is painted with colossal statues; draped with flags; garlanded with flowers and evergreens. In the eve ning, when the gaslight is added, "the effect is brilliant in the extreme." It is the ladies, "armed and equipped with those formidable weapons, nee dles, thimbles, and scissors," who have created "this light and graceful transformation." Their services are acknowledged by a verbose and rhetorical but ever gallant press. FOR months names have been ban died back and forth. There is William H. Seward of New York, governor, United States Senator, most prominent man of the party; Jacob Collimer of Vermont, supreme judge; Salmon P. Chase of Ohio, eminent statesman; Simon Cameron of Pennsyl vania, United States Senator; Edward Bates, of Missouri, well known jurist; and Abraham Lincoln of Illinois, "neither judge nor senator, but plain citizen." Down in the pit the jostling crowds grow restless. Delegates, alternates, newspaper men, spectators are pushing forward. The band plays, the mob begins to organize. Gideon Welles leads the Connecticut delegation; Carl Schurz heads the men from Missouri. Old Joshua Giddings is here from Ohio, and there is Horace Greeley, foremost man in the newspaper world of his day.. Like a prosperous farmer fresh from the fields — spectacles, red and white face, straggling straw- colored whiskers, loose, nondescript clothing. His blue eyes scan the as semblage with seeming casualness. He drawls his comments. Adroit, polished, always sure to co-ordinate name with face, moves "the first boss of the THE WIGWAM OF THE REPUBLICAN CONVENTION, 1860, AT LAKE AND MARKET STREETS TUECI4ICAG0AN Republican party," Thurlow Weed. He is Seward's campaign manager. He brings the only organized band to the convention. Ten minutes past twelve. . . . The convention is called to ordei David Wilmot, of Wilmot Proviso fame, makes the keynote speech. Secretaries — com mittees — rules of order. So buzzes the proceedings. IT is evening. Various diver sions are proposed. A short excursion on Lake Michigan has been planned. Four vessels are lashed together. The Garden City Band furnishes the music. In the gaslit brilliancy of the Wig wam the Zouave Cadets give an ex hibition drill. "The latch strings are all off and we can take care of all creation," is Chicago's bustling, hospitable boast in 1860. There are forty-two hotels with rates varying from $2.50 to $1.00 a day, and all forty-two are crowded, even to the billiard tables. The best are the Briggs House, the Richmond House, the Tremont, and the Hyde Park. The latter is outside the city limits, but accessible because of the I. C. trains. Political marching clubs of young men, called the Wide-Awakes, meet every train. Michigan Avenue is bril liantly illuminated. The bands play, torches gleam, rockets send thin golden streams and splashes across the star- spangled sky, cannon boom, husky cheers and shouts give vociferous wel come. THROUGHOUT the night, at his headquarters in Richmond House, Thurlow Weed skillfully guides the Seward faction. Hints and promises, shifting of names, clever manipulation of ballot changes go on in the smoke- filled crowded suite. Champagne flows, cigars are lavishly furnished, marches, demonstrations, and receptions are planned. The hired boosters are conned in the art of shouting. Some of the callers are taken to "a corner for secret talks, or disappear through a EXTERIOR OF THE WIGWAM (FROM A CONTEMPORARY PRINT) side door for transactions still more secret." Gracious and urbane, the master tactician presses the claims of Seward for the nomination. . . . These are troublous times. The country demands a man of highest ability, real states manship, large experience in national affairs. Such is Seward, the political philosopher, the Favorite Son. There are doubtful intimations. . . . The candidate must carry the entire North to win the presidency. Seward is too radical, allied with dubious politics in New York, once openly opposed to the old Know Nothing party, so potent now in the new Re publican. Pennsylvania, Indiana, Illi nois, Missouri will never vote for him. Everywhere is felt the dampening influence of Horace Greeley. He is bitterly opposed to the Seward group. Edward Bates is his favorite candidate. True, says Greeley, he is not well known; but from a section needed by the party. He would make a good candidate, and an able president. What of Lincoln? Now Greeley weighs his words. An adroit politician — with a host of friends in Illinois. But no experience in national affairs. No. Lincoln is too risky. . . . Bates is safer. ABOUT noon on Thursday, delegates l from the four doubtful states meet at the Briggs House. Intermit tently through the day they wrangle over the question of a candidate. It is midnight before they decide that Lincoln is the strongest. It is proposed to give the candidate from each of their response is terrific. seconds Seward's shouts are frantic. states a compli mentary ballot, and then to switch to Lincoln. Friday after- noon. . . . The throng is keyed to a high pitch. Se ward is nominated by Evarts. . . . Enthusiastic ap plause. Then Mr. Judd speaks. "I desire, on behalf of the delegation from Illinois, to put in nomination as a candidate for President of the United States, Abraham Lincoln of Illinois." The Blair of Michigan nomination. The wild, shrill; hats are flying in a black cloud, handker chiefs are waving. But with the second to Lincoln's nomination, the uproar is almost beyond description. "Like all the hogs ever slaughtered in Cincinnati giving their death squeal, plus a score of big steam whistles." This is followed by a long breath, then a stamping and shrieking that shakes every plank and pillar." There are four hundred and sixty- five delegates in all. Two hundred and thirty-three are necessary for a choice. The first ballot is cast. Seward has 173; Lincoln, 102; Cameron, 50. A second ballot. Cameron withdraws. Seward, 184; Lincoln, 181; Chase, 42. The third ballot is begun. The crowd is tense, silent. Seward draws 180; Lincoln, 231. "A profound stillness suddenly falls upon the Wigwam; one can hear distinctly the scratching of the pens, the ticking of telegraph instru ments on the reporters' tables." The totals are being footed up. Then before the final announcement can be made, Carter of Ohio leaps to a chair. "Ohio will change three or four votes from Chase to Lincoln," he bellows forth. And Honest Abe is nominated. WILD confusion. . . . Cannon are fired from the roof, but are unheard in the seething, shouting arena below. "In the Babel of joy and ex citement, stout men wept like children, and Curtis and Lane sank down in ex cess of joy." But up in the gallery, other tears are shed. Seward is a TUECI4ICAG0AN 9 favorite with the ladies, and many sob their grief. In the afternoon session Hannibal Hamlin of Missouri, is nominated for Vice President. Shortly afterwards, with "cheers for the Ticket, the Plat form, and the Ladies of Chicago," the convention adjourns. DOWN in Charleston the Demo cratic Party had hopelessly split. On one side stood the adherents of secession with Breckenridge as their candidate; on the other, the equally stubborn northern Democrats, with Stephen A. Douglas as a standard bearer. November. . . . "As the children of Israel walked through the Red Sea, so would the Republican Party, with squatter sovereignty on one side as a wall, and slavery on the other." So Dr. Eddy had predicted. And then. . . . April, 1865 .... Abraham Lincoln, President of the United States, from a White House balcony: "There is no longer a North and a South; let the bands play 'Dixie.' " (Illustrations used in this article are repro duced from originals owned by the Chicago Historical Society.) The Solvent Pugilist It's really no business of yours If I want to wear silk lingerie Or a mauve B. V. D. For it crinkles luxuriously: With a nonchalant air of bravado If I lunch on a lush avocado; If I send for a car To go half a block For it's rather too far And I don't like to walk. No, it's really no business of yours If I like to wear pink crepe de chine, You're too fresh, What I mean, But I do love its elegant sheen. Help yourself to a dollar cigar, Let me send you downtown in my car, But see my publicity man, Spread it thick — you can't go too far. F. F. HARBOUR. ? I've known a lot of lazy men, But the worst one, I have found, Waits inside a revolving door For me to push around. "Jeanette, are you positive you've packed my 'French in Five Easy Lessons'! "Oui, Oui, Mademoiselle." The Campus Reunion "La La La La — Dear Old College Days By RUTH G. BERGMAN THERE is nothing like a good old fashioned college reunion. I mean the kind where you are reunited with all the people you never knew when you were in college and are wel comed back by an alma mater that didn't know you had ever been there. You deck yourself out in light sum mer clothes, not because the weather is warm but because you want to do as the Romans do. You would feel a bit chilly without your hat if your heart weren't warmed by the belief that you look more collegiate than you did when you were a freshman. Unhap pily the warmth is dispelled by your first glimpse of a present under graduate. Beside him, or her, your plus fours look woefully minus, your short skirt, a foot too long. You regard the undergraduate wist fully; he laughs coldly at you. You may be Smith of '26 but to Jones of '28 you are as stale as a month-old popular song, as negligible as last year's tuition receipt. If he sees you play ing baseball with your rivals in the class of '25 he marvels that you are still agile enough to run; if he sees you dancing he smiles at your ancient antics. Flaming youth is a paradox. There is nothing colder than the chill these hot boys send to the heart of an alumnus. Mechanical refrigeration is as nothing; the undergraduate is a complete, self -starting unit of telepathic refrigeration. And on his sweater he wears the numeral 30. You used to think that '15 would be the end of the world. For four years you had your eyes fixed on that mythical year when you would get your degree — and now there is a class of 1930. But after all you didn't come back to the alma mater to see the under graduates. You scan the alumni 10 TUECWCAGOAN "I simply had to buy Rover — the re semblance to Uncle Robert was so strik ing." register for the names of your old friends. Somehow they seem to have been careless about registering; you can't find their names. AT last, in the crowd, you see a i familiar face. "Well, well," you cry, "it's a long time since you sat in front of me in Watson's Pol. Econ." "I had Pol. Econ. with Green," he answers. "Well, maybe it was Sociology." "Never had Sociology. But weren't you in my Geology section?" "Afraid not. But anyhow you're a friend of Bill Hewett, aren't you?" "Well, I know who he is, but I used to run around with Art Cahill and that gang." "Oh, yes, Art and Jimmy Ray." "No, that was Art Bell." "Well, I used to see you around the campus anyhow." "Sure. I'm '17." "Well, maybe I was mistaken. I'm '22." "Well, glad I met you, anyhow." "Same to you." SO you wander about until you do see somebody you know but this time you are afraid to speak because you think you may be mistaken again. You walk around the man pretending to be looking for somebody. When he glances at you your eyes are turned quickly in another direction. Finally you approach him and hold out a tenta tive hand. "Hello." He takes your hand. "Hello. Haven't seen you for a long time." "Not since graduation." "Let's see, you were in my class, weren't you?" "Sure." "That's what I thought." "Well, glad I saw you again." "Me too." "So long." "So long." AS you drift away you think what i a washout that fellow is and you turn eagerly to meet one of the girls you used to know. "How are you?" "Just fine. How are you?" "Couldn't be better. What are you doing now?" "Oh, I'm writing advertising copy." "Isn't that fine!" "What are you doing?" "I'm selling bonds." "Isn't that fine!" There is a pause. "Well, I'm awfully glad to have seen you again." "So am I." "See you later." THEN you see the big man of your class, a fellow you were proud of knowing in the old days and prouder of knowing now. You make a dive for him, but by the time you reach the spot where he was standing he has been diverted to another corner by one of the deans. The president's wife is talking to him eagerly and the treasurer of the college is hovering in the back ground. You remember that the big man has made a fortune and become, ex officio, as it were, a trustee of the college. He is no longer an alumnus TI4C O4ICAG0AN n among alumni; he is the object of faculty attentions. So you go alone to the alumni din ner and you sit between a classmate whose name you never knew and one whose name you can't recall. You sing your class song: "Nineteen thirteen, nineteen thirteen we're the la la class, Nineteen thirteen, nineteen thirteen, hats off when we pass. We're la la la la la, And we're la la la la la, For right after graduation We went out to save the nation La la college education, Nineteen thirteen!" You listen to the reading of tele grams from the friends who thought they didn't attend the reunion because they were too far away and you think of all the ones nearby who didn't come because they had to play bridge or mind the baby. So you push back your chair. You shake hands with your neighbors. "Aren't you going to stay for the speeches?" someone asks. You shake your head. "Nice re union," you say, and, "See you next year." Poetic Acceptances Maxwell Bodenheim Accents An other Rejection Shfi with Remonstrances I detest the smoothness of your Edges. The lack of scrawny rawness is utterly preposterous. They are, indubitably, like your sender's Hands. His flabby body being a futile column upholding Flapping, convoluted appendages that are his Ears. Nor am I enraptured by your imposing type. Therefore, That added to your stegocephalic leer irritates me Who is I and who is not your sender if you have a Sender which let us suppose for the sake of smothering Everything you have not, Do I detest and accept you. — DONALD PLANT. A Chicagoan on the Riviera Vide: Glyn, Menjou and the Hearst Newscasters By SAMUEL PUTNAM 1AM a very naive person. After all, my young experience has been confined to pal-ing around with gentlemen murderers and (in company with Genevieve Forbes-Her- rick) with lady murderesses, to tour ing the West Side in a police flivver, acting as a "plant" (because I happen to look the part) for the Dope Squad, worming my way past police cordons into blown up Federal Buildings — et des choses comme qa. And so, being a naive person, I have often wondered just what and how much the well known Riviera was. I know now — how much! — that's the first thing one learns here. But as I started out to say, I have often won dered just what sort of people lived on the Riviera. Judging from what I saw by the papers, — particularly the Hearst papers — it seemed, somehow, like an unreal sort of place — a place, say, out of an Elinor Glyn novel — or an Adolphe Menjou movie. In fact, I don't think I ever really believed that real people lived there (or here) at all. It was all just like a society-feature- page dream, something to be read of alongside Signor D'Annunzio's heart breaking confessions of a self-confessed heart-breaker — and it seemed as though No, I want the half-pint size — it's to be an insult, not a gift". the Riviera was the natural place for such heart-smashing to be done. It is — and it ain't. For the simple reason that nobody here has a heart. Certainly, the gargons and the gentle men — we^ will call them, that, to avoid calling them worse— behind the hotel desks haven't. Though goodness knows, it's heart-breaking enough when they hand you the bad news, which is their 12 THE CHICAGOAN chief joy in life — the one thing they live for. BUT as I was saying, the Riviera, to me, never precisely loomed as a comfy, cozy sort of place, like our own Gold Coast or Death Valley. I had a picture of a decor in which all males moved about in spiketails and dancing pumps, while the females — beg pardon! the ladies — devoted the nocturnal hours to displaying their equatorial decolletes. And I couldn't quite pic ture myself, with my own low Crimi nal Court Building tastes dropped down into this milieu — I, who was accustomed to sitting between a dress- suited bootlegger and a dinner-coated gunman in the fifth row center on Chicago first nights. But having been here a few days now, I feel different about the matter. You see, it's like this — Well, listen, old-timer, maybe I'd better just give you a sort of city directory of the little playmates I've bumped into over here — yes, on this same Elinor- Glynish- Adolphe-Menjouish-Rixn'erd. All right, here goes: Three Chicago ex'divorcees, total news space, 1919-1922: 163% columns; One Tsjorth Side lady murderess, total news space, 1921, 1,079 columns, not including pictures; One West Side al\y'runner, com' paratively inconspicuous, only 97 3/5 columns; One absconding ban\- cashier, defi nitely located by the police (in 1923) as being in South America; 100 gunmen — they call them "na tives" here! X- B.—The A. B. C. (Absconding "One, two, three— GLIDE" Ban\'Cashier ) is a taxi'Starter — and not a bad one, as taxi'Starters in these parts go — in a local ritz hostelry. So, you see, I do feel rather at home, after all. I feel perfectly natural, because I feel as though I were about to interview somebody, or just had in terviewed somebody, all the time. I even caught myself, the other night, hailing a cab and shouting, to a be wildered and comprend'pas chauffeur, an address in Newspaper Row. FROM all of which it may be de duced that Elinor was not so far wrong, and neither, for that matter, was Adolphe. For I never saw a gun man yet who was not extremely par ticular about his de rigeur, while they all do wear decolletes like that until they become tea-shop-proprietresses. Yes, the Riviera — and especially, esc teric Cannes, from which the present communication happens to be dated, is nothing if not funny. Perhaps, the funniest thing about the Riviera, now that we are speaking of the Riviera and of funny things — per haps, the funniest thing of all — aside from the gunmen's, alias the natives', idea of what anything ought to cost an American — is that nobody on the Riviera sees anything funny about the joint — excuse me, the place. I don't think I have ever seen more solemnity in white ducks and flannels than is to be encountered in the course of the most casual of strolls along the plage. The Riviera, you feel— rather, these transient aborigines, would like to make you feel — is a cult and a mystic rite, and you either belong or you don't — the chances are all that you don't — above all, if you chance to possess that vulgar medium of exchange commonly known as money, though Heaven help you if you don't possess it! No, decidedly, money will not open any thing but Champagne in this locale. A title, — well, a title might help; it wouldn't be exactly a drawback, but still — well, as we have said, you just belong or you don't, that's all; and if you don't, if you haven't always, then you never, never will, and it's no use to try, and you'd better just go right straight back to the Gold Coast or Hyde Park or Death Valley or some nice quiet little ordinary place like that. It is all very much like our own Dunes and the Prairie Club and the Nineteenth Century Club out in Oak Park and — and — -you get the idea. And the life, — ah, yes, the life — the THE CHICAGOAN 13 life is very thrilling, if you are one of those masculine persons who find a terrific thrill in taking tea with Great Aunt Esmeralda, whose social position is perfectly impeccable — oh, perfectly! — if you know what we mean — And you probably do. [to be continued] Gyp Games An Explanation THIS racket has been worked in Chicago for a number of years with unvarying results. The equipment is simple, suckers are easy to find. All one needs is a pack of cards, a thou sand dollars in loose change and a machine gun in case anything goes wrong. The man who pulls the racket, or the "dafter," as he is generally called, works with an accomplice, the "spotter," whose job it is to search out the suckers, of whom there are always plenty. Here's the way it works : The "dafter" goes into a theatre lobby and asks the man at the box office if he has two good seats for to night's show. The ticket seller imme diately hands him — no, that's not right; that's another racket. I got them mixed. The "dafter" in the company of his "spotter" who has procured the sucker decides to stay at home and play poker. After the sucker has been allowed to win a little while at small stakes, the ante is raised and the other pack — I forgot about the other pack — is produced. This has been carefully stacked with four aces in the mid — well, anyhow the cards are stacked. Here is where the ace-in-the-hole comes in. While the sucker is being poured another drink the "spotter" asks the "dafter" if he can cash a small check for five hundred dollars. In the mean time the "dafter" unknown to the sucker, has changed the real coonskin coat for the fake one, leaving the sucker with a phoney dollar bill and twenty- five white chips which he supposes are blue. Now the stage is all set, the fake raid is pulled off and the sucker learns too late that the young lady whom he thought to be his fiance is in reality Moll. In the meantime the "dafter" has switched the number plates on the car, had it repainted and has changed from his imitation tuxedo back to everyday dress. Well, anyhow it's something like that, and if you pull the racket correctly you're two hundred dollars to the good. — PARKE CUMMINGS. The Chicago Plan — III. Made Conversationally Accessible By FRANCIS C. COUGHLIN IT will be remembered that the great quadrangle is the downtown area between Twelfth street on the south, Halsted to the west, Chicago Avenue, north, and Michigan Boulevard, east. Inside the parallelogram, Canal street and Wacker Drive afford a supple mentary double banding to the west and north. A straightened river with Wells, La Salle, Dearborn, Market and Franklin untrammeled to the south will afford easy entrance to the central business area from the west and south west. And finally, a magnificent roadway of lakefront boulevard north and south from Grant Park will join at a tangent the eastern side of the great oblong. Randolph street, projected in double deck to the lake and turned north over bridge and viaduct to Naval Pier, will offer much needed egress from the loop to Lake Shore Drive. This, briefly, "The touring car, Ludwig — I'm visiting a friend in the suburbs." 'i|£r.iJ 14 THE CHICAGOAN is The Chicago Plan for the quad rangle. A detailed story of river straighten ing — an enterprise belonging also to the problem of establishing railway termi nals — and of Wacker Drive is too long and too technical to be presented here; engineering reputations have been made on far smaller enterprises, civic dis tinctions acclaimed for far lesser works. YET in the building of Chicago, even Wacker Drive and the river straightening foreshorten against the whole panorama of the Plan until they appear as casual incidents to it. Tre mendous jobs, foreseen, pushed through, finished — and there remains so much to do. New projects to be riveted in steel and moulded in con crete wait ahead directly as the old are done. Personalities dim strangely in so vast a campaign. Charles H. Wacker, 17 years to the day head of the Plan Commission, re signed November 4, 1926. He had be gun his work with an untried thing in 1909. A month before his resignation he had seen the new drive named for him, had ridden on the smooth asphalt of a magnificent boulevard where once was a dingy and cluttered produce market. Across the river, where Wacker 's Plan Commissioners had di rected Michigan Boulevard as an irri gator directs a vital stream, the Tribune and Wrigley towers stood new and eager — first buildings in a long neg lected area destined to be one of the most important in Chicago. Had Charles Wacker caught to the flame of drama he might have resigned at the dedication, there on his drive with his triumphs at hand and the nobles and people assembled. But such drama is not in the Chicago scheme of things. Rather, the thing to do was to pre sent a ship-shape organization to a sue cessor, to point out eventual difficulties, and to wish a life work God-speed as soberly as leaving the office any Thurs day afternoon. On December 8, James Simpson be came head of the Plan Commission. "wave ,.•: <<T"*HERE are a limited number of 1 people," says Eugene Taylor, Manager of the Chicago Plan, "who do everything." Simpson was one of that limited number. A boy at Field's in 1891, a vice-president and assistant to the president in 1906, and finally presi dent of Marshall Field and Company. the new Commission chairman had done things. Under his leadership the Chicago Plan has moved toward three principal objectives. First, the double deck extension o. Randolph street with its right angle north to Lakeshore Drive, and a con nection south with the lakefront boule vards. A tremendous project tangled in rights and interests of the Lincoln Park board, the South Park Commis sion, The United States Government Engineers, private owners, and railway air rights. And a most intricate engi neering task as well. Hugh E. Young, engineer for the Plan Commission, worked with Simpson to smooth out each snarl in the delicate negotiations. Officially approved, the new drive stands assured. A $10,000,000 project. At the same time, Simpson began on the always vexatious matter of railway terminals. Thirteen roads use the three southern stations at Dearborn, Polk and Twelfth streets. To organize an equit able and efficient terminal agreement requires the successful solution of a dozen major transportation, civic and legal problems. River straightening is but one of them. The Plan Commis sion is doggedly at work. How soon a final settlement may be reached it is impossible to say. Ten years brought the present Union station into being. Such is the second major objective of the Plan Commission. The third project under way has been variously described as a Super highway Plan and a Grade-separation plan. New things seldom have pre cise names. Stated baldly, the grade - separation plan is a venture toward the solution of traffic problems by routing principal lines of traffic over raised or lowered arteries feeding into the deep est west, north, and south of the metro politan area. Avondale Super-high way, a mighty road ten miles to the north and northwest, 160 feet wide for through commerce and with 50 feet extra for local traffic is the first high way planned. South Park-Indiana Avenue, a 200'foot road from Wash ington Park to the south city limits is the second. And the West Side Super- street — as yet undesignated, though THE CHICAGOAN 15 Congress, Monroe and Polk seem most likely — another 200-foot entry to the heart of Chicago. These things had been dimly foreseen in the beginning. Steadily Chicago is forging to them. NOW the Plan idea is a living thing. A philosopher calls the method eclectic — that is to say, a method choosing from the best and changing as new problems present themselves. The Wright flying machine a'teeter off Kitty Hawk in 1903 presented no shadow of difficulty to the city fathers. By 1922 there had developed an avia* tion problem. A foresighted fellow pointed out that a half-mile area of school land at 63rd st. and Cicero Ave' nue was the sole available airport within the city limits. Engineer Young, for the Plan Commission, urged its lease and development. The air' port thus taken over has already given Chicago a definite air dominance. Other fields are proposed for islands off Grace St., and off 18th st. There remains, too, the widening of Ashland, Cicero, Ogden and Western avenues and Damen, LaSalle and 22nd streets, as well as a half dozen smaller thoroughfares. The problem of cross' town boulevards. The Fair of 1933 has long been con sidered by Ihe- Plan Commission. It was Charles Wacker's idea in the be- ginriingr~"Ih a 1>rief survey, as this, one may only mention the harbor plans and pass on. Twentytwo floors above the loop at 208 West Washington street, the pres' ent offices of the Chicago Plan Com' mission look southwest over the city. Large plain rooms, the rustle of blue' prints, the quick tinkle of a telephone call, a voice giving dictation — if there is vision here it is an extraordinary matter of fact vision that goes wrapped up in engineer's clothing. Daniel Burnham put it perhaps as well as such things can be put into words. "Make no little plans," he said, "they have no magic to stir men's blood, and probably themselves will not be realized. Make big plans . . ." There are, all in all, 96 separate projects undertaken by the Chicago Plan Commission. If all chauffeurs who snooze and sit Would use their time and sew or knit, They could supply all refugees With sweaters, socks and B. V. D's. — BRAND STORM. The Terwilliger Expedition As Told to Gene Markey III. JEOPARDY IN THE JUNGLE WELL, folks, in the last breath' taking installment of my Afri' can big-game hunt, I related a pretty hot adventure re: cheating cheetahs. The same, I need scarcely mention, are not the sort of live pet that Lucius J. Terwilliger (Terwilliger's Toilet Prepa' rations — on sale at all drug stores) would care to have around the house. However, be that as it may, there we were, I and my wife and her mother, Mrs. Bowser, out in the middle of Africa, somewhere, with a safari con' sisting of a Scotch guide and about eight dozen colored porters to carry our luggage. I suppose a lot of my readers must think I was crazy to take my mother' in-law into the wilds of Africa, but I knew what I was doing. Some of the animals loose around Africa have pretty mean dispositions; then, too, there's the deadly Tse-Tse fly, jungle fever, poisonous snakes and a lot of other inconveniences that might inter' fere with a lady's vacation. But, as luck would have it, things didn't turn out like I had planned. After three weeks in the wildest part of the wilds, Mrs. B. was still going strong. (And when that woman is going strong, she could make Strangler Lewis look posi' tively effeminate!) Well, sir, I was pretty excited one day when we were all out in the jungle, and our guide told us he'd lo' cated tracks of a leopard, and for us all to be careful. "POOH!" sniffs Mrs. B. "I thought I we came to Africa for big game! I'd like to see an elephant — or at least a rhinoceros." "Oh, you would, eh?" I came right back at her. "Well, let me tell you something. Leopards are as wild as any wild animals anywhere. Just be cause you see a lot of leopard'skin coats on Michigan Avenue, I suppose you think they're caught by sprinkling salt on their tails — " The words froze on my chin. For at that instant, out of the bushes, not ten feet ahead of us, bounded the big' gest leopard you ever saw — its tail swishing, and fire in its eye! Well, sir, I never was so near being upset in my life. The porters all disappeared in a flash, as if the "20th Century" had just rolled into the LaSalle Street Sta' tion. I looked around. The guide had fainted from fright! "Oh, Lucius!" screamed Aggie (that's my wife — and a fine woman, though inclined to be a little nervous) . "What'll we do?" I was just in the act of throwing away my gun, on account of its weigh ing so much. "Do whatever you think best," I re assured her, "only don't get in my way!" In college I used to be able to run pretty fast. I glanced around, as nonchalantly as possible, for a convenient tree, and just then I saw a sight that made my blood run cold, as the fellow said. Instead of the leopard starting for Mrs. B. — Mrs. B. was starting for the leopard! She held her rifle like a fly-swatter, and she gave that leopard the nastiest look you ever saw. Well, sir, I had always heard that a leopard never changes his spots — but when that leopard saw my mother-in-law coming at him, his spots not only changed — they faded. He turned positively pale, and with a howl of terror, fled into the jungle.. K-TOO bad," sighed Mrs. B. "That I brute would have looked well in front of the electric-heater in my apart ment!" "Another minute," I said, hastily picking up my gun, "and I'd have got 16 THE CHICAGOAN him!" "Another minute," snorted Mrs. B., "and you'd have trampled on your poor wife in the rush! And you've been broadcasting how brave you are — " "Is that so?" I retorted. "Did I run?" "You would have," she snapped, "if your knees hadn't been rattling so hard that they shook your puttees off!" "Well, anyhow," I told her, "it's no wonder you scared that poor animal. I can understand now why your hus band drank himself into a peaceful drunkard's grave!" She pretended not to hear me. She was busy reviving the guide with smelling salts. The next day we pushed on, and I noticed that the darkies were begin ning to act sort of queer. All of a sudden I looked around and discovered that they weren't following us. There we were — deserted in the middle of the African jungle! And before anybody could say "Jack Robinson" (though I never understood who this fellow, Rob inson, was — in the first place!) we were surrounded by howling cannibals. You never saw such a blood-thirsty looking lot in your life! ELL, sir, those fellows took us prisoner, and nothing would do but we had to go along with 'em to their camp. I suppose technically we were the guests of the cannibal king, but I must say we were not royally entertained. And right here I'd like to put in a few words about the living conditions of cannibals. Compared to that camp, the stockyards smell like Quelque Fleurs. I had an old maga zine with me, and I showed the king an ad for a Crane model bathroom, and urged him to have one installed, but that fellow was so ignorant, he didn't get what I was talking about. He wasn't even nice about it. I kept point ing to the bath-tub in the picture, and, as patiently as I could, I repeated "bath-tub" several times. Finally he yelled for his butler or head bell-boy, and gave an order, and the first thing I knew they brought in two big iron ket tles. Then the king pointed to me and said, in what I thought was a particu larly unpleasant tone: "Makum quick lunch!" Well, now, you know — that's no way to talk to a guest. I was a little bit upset about it. The food wasn't like the College Inn, either, but I thought — what's the use of complain ing? They're just camping out. That night I didn't sleep very well. (Apparently they had never read any of those testimonials for Simmons beds.) All night long they were hav ing some sort of a dance outside, and the jazz kept us awake. I guess I must have been kind of irritated. I said: "That trap-drummer is the worst I ever heard — even in an Eng lish dance orchestra!" "Well, anyway," retorted Mrs. B., "they haven't any saxophones — that's something!" (Always ready for an argument! You never knew such a woman.) IN the morning when I went outside, I was somewhat disconcerted to see that the cannibals had lighted fires un der the iron kettles. But why only two kettles? I asked myself. Then it oc curred to me that maybe cannibals only ate women. But, to my chagrin, the colored king came along and pointed to me again, and to Mrs. B., and said: "Two tough babies. Cookum long time." "Is that so?" snapped Mrs. B. "You can't talk that way to me! I was raised in the South, and I won't stand for it!" But the big darkey paid no attention to her. He walked right over to Ag gie, and grinned and said: "Takum white wife. Hot dog!" "Yes, sir — the nerve of that fellow! He meant that he was going to marry Aggie — and eat her mother and me for the wedding-breakfast. Well, I can tell you that made me pretty warm un der the collar. I went back into the hut, and got ready to shave. Force of habit, you know — always shave before breakfast. I was putting some Ter williger 's Superb Shaving Soap (Throw Away Your Old Razor Blades — And Shave in Comfort) on my chin, when it occurred to me to make a last plea to the king. So I went out and start ed to give him a high-powered spiel — I was always pretty good at sales argu ments — and just then it began to rain. I'd forgotten all about the thin coating of shaving cream on my face, but as I rubbed my chin reflectively, to my sur prise I discovered that the rain had turned it into creamy lather! I saw the cannibals stare at this white beard growing like magic before their eyes — and suddenly the king and all the rest of them fell down on their knees, shouting: "Mumbo fumbo .'" Which in their funny lingo means: "Make way for the big boss," or, more liter ally: "You're the works, kid!" Well, I accepted the ovation modest ly. (I was used to getting a hand at organization banquets, and I have al ways said that in time true merit is recognized. That's how I made a suc cess of the toilet preparations business — started in as office boy, etc. But to get on with my story.) Those cannibals wanted me to be their king, but I explained to them that I had to get back to the office, in Chi cago, and they said O. K. — we could go, with an escort of soldiers. JUST as we were ready to leave, I played my ace. Took the king aside and said: "You wantum white wife — take the old one — makum fine frau!" Well, he took a look at my mother- in-law, and I could see he wasn't ex actly sold on the idea, but he thought I was hot stuff with magic, so he ac cepted Mrs. B., as a gift, and I and Aggie started on our way back through the jungle. I could scarcely keep from laughing, and I guess I danced along for ten miles. Aggie cried a little at leaving Momma like that, but I told her not to worry — the king was crazy about Mrs. B., and would give her a good home. We were lucky, I said, to escape with our lives. Well, I confess I was pretty much pleased over the clever way I'd dis posed of Mrs. B. But when we reached the town on the coast where we were to take the boat — I never can remem ber the names of those African towns — imagine my surprise at seeing a fa' miliar figure sitting on the dock, wait' ing for us. It was Mrs. B.! "You big bum!" was her affectionate greeting to me. "You thought you'd leave me behind, did you? Well, I fixed your friend, the king! When I got through with him they had to hang him up to dry! He wasn't fit to be used as a scare-crow! And I made those low-lived cannibals bring me here on an elephant!" What can you do with a woman like that? I ask you. Of course, Aggie was overjoyed at seeing Momma again — but poor Aggie always was a sentimentalist. Just as we got ready to sail for home I remembered that we hadn't shot any wild animals. I went around and bought a pair of tiger-skin rugs and a stuffed elk's head, from a restaurant — to bring home to the Field Museum. (the end) THE CHICAGOAN 17 CHICAGOAN/ THE Twentieth Century pulls in to the LaSalle Street Station. Re porters and cameramen rush down the platform to meet a Hollywood celebrity fresh from a Paris divorce. She is easily discovered. Standing on a step of the train, arms encircling the gross of American Beauties supplied by her press agent, she poses for her public and the newspaper men. Fame. A fellow traveler is neglected. In the confusion of the train shed he fails to see the person who has come to meet him. Even blase porters are gathering up the baggage slowly between back ward glances at the movie queen. Af ter a moment the man fishes out his suitcase himself and starts with it to ward the gate. No one has noticed. There is nothing remarkable in the spectacle of a gray, middleaged man in a plain business suit carrying a plain bag. Travelers, even on extra fare trains, may embrace an opportunity to save a dime; and there is nothing in the appearance of this man to indicate that he has given away more millions than many mortals can write without stopping to count ciphers. Sometimes, however, he is recog nized; or the newspapermen are sent expressly to meet him. Then the pho tographers get a picture of a man of medium height, who is striking only by virtue of having no striking character istics. He is in the sixties with re treating gray hair and a gray mustache. Behind their glasses, his eyes are keen and alert. A wise, kindly smile bright ens the slightly ruddy face. Often his picture is taken with his wife, one of his five sons and daughters, or perhaps a grandchild. The photographs are printed in the Chicago papers, copy righted, and sold wherever printing presses toss off likenesses of the cele brated. When the Chicagoan unfolds his paper he sees a picture of Julius Rosenwald, chairman of the board of Sears Roebuck, and philanthropist ex traordinary, and wonders what new benefaction has again made this man good copy. Down south the picture is a symbol of better educational facilities for negroes. In Washington Mr. Ros enwald is remembered as a dollar a year man. France saw him in 1918 Julius Rosenwald By RUTH G. BERGMAN when he was sent over on a special mission for the Secretary of War. He is known to Russians as a man who has pledged five million dollars to place Jews on the farms provided by the soviet government. HILE modern speed makes it possible for a Lindbergh to be come famous over night, still a lifetime seems scarcely long enough for a man to gain such a reputation as Mr. Ros- enwald's,to earn and give the millions that have passed through his hands and to develop an innate inclination to be kind and useful into a philosophy of charity and the efficient mechanism for dispensing it. Yet Julius Rosenwald has done this in less than thirty years. Until he became associated with the in fant firm of Sears Roebuck he was very little known outside the- circle of his friends and the wholesale clothing trade in which he moved first as salesman and later as president of Rosenwald and Weil of Chicago. He was born in Springfield, Illinois, and educated there in the public schools. No signs of coming eminence were evident during his school days or business apprenticeship, except, per haps, that he was too genteel and easily rebuffed to be a very successful sales man in a country where the spoils be long to the high powered. When his father died his share of the estate was a palty sum compared to the vast amounts of money he now gives away every year. In those days, however, a legacy in five figures, even though the first was under five, was large enough to make a young man consider himself something of a capitalist. After looking around for an investment young Mr. Rosenwald decided to put his money into Sears Roebuck, a young concern headed by good men and near ly swamped by bad debts. There are some, chief among them Mr. Rosen wald, who say it was luck that caused him to buy that interest in Sears Roe buck. Others call the circumstances by a more complimentary name. At any rate it is certain that there was no stampede of men with the luck or foresight or good judgment to rush in and tide over a firm so badly in need of capital. Even several years later, when the growing business was incor porated, its stock went begging. If there are not as many men who re fused a chance to buy it cheap as there are decendants of Chicagoans who were offered the corner of State and Madi son for a song, at least they are equally vociferous in their lamentations. The firm of Sears Roebuck had orig inated almost out of thin air. When Julius Rosenwald went into it, it was still operating on one of the well known shoe strings, or perhaps on a shoestring and a half sole. The busi ness had grown so rapidly that it had more orders than credit. It was Mr. Rosenwald's money that changed fail ure to success with a speed comparable to that with which a word-change adept could perform the feat. His business ability rewrote the word Suc cess in capital letters and electric lights. That, too, Mr. Rosenwald attributes to luck. He has often been quoted as saying that he got a good break. "There are many men in my employ," he has said, "who would probably have been more successful than I, given the 18 TUECI4ICAG0AN V X Oak Brook's Four Horsemen Gallop Through the Cantigny Team for 10 Goals to 6 and Take the North American Cwfi, at Oak Brook's Great Club Near Hinsdale THE CHICAGOAN 19 same opportunities. Perhaps. Or perhaps it requires a certain amount of genius to know how to take advantage of luck. Certainly Mr. Rosenwald does not deserve all the credit for the success of his business. Richard Sears was a clever man. Mr. Rosenwald cooper ated with him. From time to time many other capable men held important executive positions. Mr. Rosenwald brought them in or raised them up from the ranks and was wise enough and big enough to defer to their opin ions. That was not luck. Nor was it luck that he found able assistants. They came because they saw a future with Sears Roebuck; and they were not dis appointed. THE mail order house not only be came one of the largest establish ments in the country, but it provided excellent working conditions and made many employees rich. Some of these men have retired to estates more pre tentious than Julius Rosenwald's. Some are still working at the west side plant. They are not all high executives. Many a man working in his shirt sleeves has an interest of thousands of dollars in the firm's profit sharing system. Many another has made a modest fortune on the Sears Roebuck stock which he was able to procure by means of the firm's installment payment plan. Though the policies which have brought such results have not by any means been originated by Julius Rosen wald alone, none could have been put into effect without his sanction in his capacity as president from 1910 to 1925 and chairman of the board for the past three years. The ultimate re sponsibility rests with him. Further more, it can be no accident that the principles upon which the business is operated coincide with those which have governed Mr. Rosenwald's private life, honesty, fair play and confidence in others. {NOTE: This is the first of a series of articles on Mr. Julius Rosenwald. The sec ond will appear in the next issue.] Statistic If all the land along the Lake Were turned to water by mistake And all the Lake along the land Were wangled into rocks and sand Chicago'd be less wet by far Than some disdainful cities are! — PAUL ERNST. <Th.e Slk G E Summer Is Icumen In; Loude Sing Cuccu" By CHARLES COLLINS HEIGH-HO! The drama is in the well-known doldrums. From Decoration Day to Labor Day is the period when those who place their faith in play- going as a means of rec reation find an emptiness in Chicago life. That's three months, or a quarter of a year, of more or less vacant evenings. Then one re pents of hav ing chosen the stage as a mistress; one envies the masses who have taken the plodding, reliable movies to wife; one begins to regard his wardrobe trunk yearningly and wonder what's doing in New York, London and Paris. What do dramatic critics do during the summer? They try to wrangle long vacations out of their managing editors, pretending a great need to go culture-hunting in Westminster Abbey or Oberammergau. Failing in that pious effort, they vegetate; they re write puffs from press agents; they print the pretentious promises of pro ducing managers; they yawn and loaf and wait. The fatuity of their pro fession weighs heavily upon them, but like the augurs of ancient Rome they strive to keep up appearances. Mr. Stevens of the Examiner has gone off on a motor trip like a babe in a Buick, but he is heading eastward and as soon as he hits Broadway he will make it a bus-driver's holiday. Mr. Donaghey of the Tribune con tinues to collect the statistics of the theatre, and is play-going assiduously among the files of ten and twenty years ago. Miss Leslie of the J^ews, no doubt, will make a few forays among the summer homes of the stars, to sen timentalize over the domestic bliss in those frequently scrambled menages. For me, matinees at the beaches, evening at jai alai, spasmodic attempts to polish up my rusted golf, the fine views of towers and lake horizons from the terraces of the Tavern and The Cliff Dwellers, and proof-reading a book. There is a canoe trip that I dream about, along an old war trail of the Ottawas and Pottawa' tomies. There are soft, shin- ing places among the dunes on the Michigan shore that the imagination re-visits. In the meantime, there is a nest of robins un der my window, and new life grows there although the drama is dead. Mother India's First-Born THE Goodman was the last theatre at bat in the season of 1927-28, which was officially closed June 1 by proclamation of Mr. Donaghey from his high turret on the Tribune Tower. It presented an archaeological item called "The Little Clay Cart," trans lated from the Sanscrit, and kept it in performance for a pleasant two weeks, recently ended. Let us, therefore, give thoughtful consideration to the early Hindu drama, than which there is nothing less important. A refreshing relic, this, done in a charmingly "stylized" manner. The Goodman appears to know the danger line that separates "stylization" from affectation, which is a menace ever- present among the "art" and "little" theatres. Its experiments in decora tive stagecraft this season have been ingenious but not too arty. It has successfully avoided the studio atmos phere. Cloyd Head, the front-of-the- house man at the Goodman, deserves the credit for the stage direction of "The Little Clay Cart." He did not put it on too yearningly. This play, attributed to a certain King Shudraka, is said to be 1,500 years old. Curiously enough, however, it is still alive. Which may be taken to prove, from one point of view, that 20 THE CHICAGOAN fineSi hotel on loveliest shore of Lake Michigan L / HE Golfmore fronts on a broad -Z stretch of sandy beach in the beauti- ful wooded dune country, near the south ern end of Lake Michigan, 62 miles from Chicago. Golf [two excellent courses] a canter or stroll over glorious dune trails, tennis, a dip in the surf, a dance at even- ing to the music of a famous ten-piece orchestra, and many other diversions pass time all too quickly. Motor tourists stop for a meal and stay for weeks in this en trancing environment. Delicious meals with fresh vegetables and fruits in season, from nearby Michigan farms and orchards. Extra large bedrooms, dressing room and private bath [meals included] $8 to $10 a day, single; $13, $15, $17, $18, double. Special weekly rates and rates for organization outings and for conventions on request. Michigan Central Railroad or Motor Bus Lines to Grand Beach; or South Shore Electric to Michigan City, Indiana, where private motor coaches meet arriving guests. Broad highways, from all directions, to The Golfmore. Further details with illustrations on request. CHICAGO E. Chicago Golfmore \J HOTEL G R A K D BEACH MICHIGAN Fireproof— Accommodations for 500 *• J. E. BYRNES, Manager during a millennium and a half, while many empires have risen and fallen, the drama has not progressed at all, in the essentials of its plot material. There is some truth, I suspect, in this cynical notion. I have been watching this in stitution, over which there is so much intellectual excitement, for twenty-five years, and I feel at times that I would have been more profitably employed holding a stop-watch on the speed of a glacier. THE plot of "The Little Clay Cart" might have been invented by Alexandre Dumas fils, John Golden, or Trader Horn. I am inclined to give the latter preference; it has the whiskery old Afrikander's ineffable naivete. Here, dredged up out of the misty past of Hindustan, almost geo logically old, you will find themes which are the stock-in-trade of con temporary playwrights, which you will see and applaud next season in "hits" new-plucked from Broadway. Here you will see the sentimental harlot and her poor but honest para mour, proving that Love is King. (The "Camille" theme.) Here you will see the romantic burglar at his jolly occu pation, a felonious instrument of good in the hands of Providence as he dex terously cops the jewels. (The "Raf fles" theme; the "Last of Mrs. Cheyney" theme.) Here you will find a bed-room scene, perfumed with Belasco passion; a trial-scene, lively with question and answer; a stay-of- execution scene as the axe is ready to fall. "The Little Clay Cart," in short, is an anthology of the dramatic hokums. If some cataclysm of nature should de stroy all other plays all records of other plays that have followed "The Little Clay Cart" down the dusty road of time, a Cuvier of the theatre could take this fossil and from its bones recon struct the entire history of the drama up to and including "The Trial of Mary Duggan." Dirty Work at the Cross-Roads AKINK in a British statute designed to mitigate the unemployment evil by protecting the native-born against alien competition kept an obscure American actress named Alden Gay out of a job in London. The Actors' Equity Association, which un dertakes to regulate the American stage, immediately flew into a tantrum, THE CHICAGOAN 21 took out letters of marque and reprisal, and passed regulations curbing the em ployment of English actors in this coun try. The restrictions adopted were not drastic, but they will keep many a wandering player on the other side of the Atlantic. This action is to be deprecated. It arose, not out of economic necessity, but out of a fit of temper. It is an eagle-scream, a jingo-gesture; a feline and feminine piece of business. The American stage owes much to the English stage. Begin to count the debt at Shakespeare, if you choose, but you will not end it when you come to Charlie Chaplin. The free coming and going of English players has had definite cultural value for the Ameri can theatre. We have passed out of the back-woods era, but we still need the player of British schooling — for the Shakespearean drama, for the comedy of manners, for good "diction," and for his zeal in the craftsmanship of acting. Kodak Suggestions For Summer Use 1. Pose on steps of Public Library on Washington street. 2. Pose on steps of Public Library on Randolph street. 3. Coax friend to stand on his hands on local cannon ball to represent Atlas. 4 Take picture of unsuspecting girl crossing Link bridge, then ask her for her name and telephone number so that you can send her a picture. That is fun! 5. Decide that you are growing face tious and take serious picture of new University of Chicago chapel with artistic design of leaves in foreground. 6. Become greatly impressed by seethe of humanity at State and Madison and catch city in new mood. 7. Pose on steps of Art Institute. — D. c. P. Ypk and the sergeant, more skeptical than ever, repaired to the cell in which the chickens were asleep. Ypk spoke to them in his native Dutch. The chickens, awakening, began to cackle and crow and to flap their wings. — The Chicago Daily Cock a doodle Deutsch? MT->» MARIE EARLE SAYS, "MORNING AND NIGHT, WHEREVER YOU ARE, GIVE YOUR FACE THIS SIMPLE TREATMENT" FACE-WASHING is twice as danger ous when you travel as it is at home. It takes only a few minutes to cleanse your skin safely and thoroughly — to give it the nourish ment that it needs. The Marie Earle treatment, though simple, is individualized. Use the Essential Cream, first for cleansing, then again with the Cucumber Emulsion for nourish ing, and finally the Marie Earle lotion that suits your skin. Marie Earle preparations are on sale at truly reasonable prices in the smart shops of Chicago. Have you seen the Traveler's Roll? Knowing the traveler's problems, Miss Earle has devised a traveling roll, smart, simple, satisfactory. In two sizes, for week-ends and for journeys. In leather, bright colors. Miss Earle, herself, is at the New York salon. . . . Have a treatment, if you're traveling via New York! fi£S. U.S. PAT. OFFICE Established Paris, 1910 Now at 660 Fifth Avenue, New York City 22 TME CWICAGOAN* j\ About a Lady Who Found Herself There was a time, when she looked like a hundred other women. As a matter of fact, she often mistook other people for herself. And the result was sometimes incred' ibly embarrassing, because now and again she indulged in the quaint practice of talking to herself — or who- ever she thought was herself! However, all that is over now. She has been discovered — or should one say identified — by a great beauty scientist, by one who specializes not in faces, but in individuals. And the great beauty scientist — as every woman who has found herself knows —is HELENA RUBINSTEIN. For beauty treatments that bring out the real you, even to the lines of your figure and the movements of your hands, you must visit Madame Rubin- stein's exotic new Maison de Beaute Valaze — it holds every conceivable dc vice, artistic as well as scientific, for the cultivation of a distinctly beauti' ful self! One treatment will prove a revelation to you. CUBIST — the lipstick created by HELENA RUBINSTEIN, for ultra-smart "mod erns". A Black or Golden oblong case which harmonizes perfectly with the last word in houses and clothes, sculp' ture, music and moods. And within, a lipstick typically Rubinstein — which to the connoisseur means a most flat' tering texture and tone and a quality unquestionable. There's Red Rasp' berry (medium or light) for daytime, and Red Geranium, the vivid, for evening. At a price which is incred' ible. 1.00. Valaze Water Lily Make-up a rare luxury in powder, rouge and lipstick, containing the beautifying es- sence of water lily buds.. The most flattering tones — and the smartest cases imaginable! 1.25 to 3.00. Rubinstein Beauty Preparations and Cosmetics are obtainable at the better stores, or directly from 670 N. Michigan Avenue Chicago. Telephone for Appointment — Whitehall 4242 8 East 57th Street, New York 'The CINEMA 20 Degrees Cooler Inside By WILLIAM R. WEAVER Paris Philadelphia Boston London Detroit Newark THE Hollywood plan for pleasing most of the people most of the time, a studiously blueprinted and cross ' checked system devised with a view toward rid' ding the en- tertainment business of the risk that has always been its most fasci' nating aspect, is engagingly reflected in the current crop of mo tion pictures. The plan, in simple, consists in aiming each picture at a definitely analysed and isolated segment of the population. Logicians have convinced producers that under this plan it is possible, by estimating the attendance frequency of each segment and producing at the in' dicated intervals pictures especially equipped to charm these known and tabulated groups, to maintain capacity attendance at all the cinemas all the time and so make all the world glad. With respect to the eight pictures viewed in the fortnight ending as this is written, the plan holds that: If you are the sort of person who likes books, you will like the careful, studious picturi^ation that is "Ra' mona.1' If you care for comic strips, "Harold Teen" will bring you to the ticket wicket. Billie Dove's sheer beauty is supposed to fill with beauty lovers the theatre exhibiting "The Yel' low Lily"; Adolphe Menjou's suavity is considered reason enough why sc phisticates should attend the unreeling of "His Tiger Lady," and "The Drag Net" must draw the millions who read newspaper headlines about criminals. "A Thief in the Dark" is another dish for runners who read; "The Goodbye Kiss" promises to be funny in the Mack Sennett manner, and "The News Pa' rade" offers novelty. THUS the plan worked out by the great thinkers of Hollywood. And the thing actually does produce a cer' tain variety of subject matter and treatment. But it makes no visible provision for the maintenance of an entertainment standard, and so the pic- tures pointed <& at the various segments at' tract a dwin- dling patron- --¦^Pif- a2e from each and there are seats to be had in all the cine mas at almost all times. ""R a mona," for instance. transcribes the book but makes it dull. "Harold Teen" is funny in a juvenile way but it is not the strip. "The Yel' low Lily" exhibits Billie Dove but gives her nothing worth doing, Adolphe Menjou is similarly unemployed in "His Tiger Lady" and "The Drag Net" spills more blood than a linotype machine. "A Thief in the Dark" turns out to be merely funny, "The Good' bye Kiss" doesn't, and "The News Pa' rade," the single picture produced for no designated segment, proves to be exactly the novelty promised. The plan for pleasing most of the people most of the time becomes, then, a barrier between the public and its entertainment. Now and then a wastrel Von Stroheim, an idealistic Griffith or an errant Ingram may be expected to jump the traces and pro duce a good picture. With these and similar exceptions, the summer cinema promises to be interesting chiefly as a place that is cooler than any other place in warm weather. Now Showing Ramona: Dolores Del Rio as Helen Hunt Jackson's woeful heroine; a careful, monotonous picturi^ation conducive to crying out loud. (If too happy, see it and weep.) Harold Teen : Carl Ed's cartoon comic in the person of Arthur Stone. (If you read the strip you might care for this, too.) The Yellow Lily: Beautiful Billie Dove dumbly employed. (If beauty is enough.) The Tiger Lady: Adolphe Menjou wields a golden slapstick, somewhat foolishly. (If there's nothing else to do.) TWECUICAGOAN 23 The Drag Net: George Bancroft in the most engaging gang picture to date. (If you care for crime.) A Thief in the Dark: One of those merry murder mysteries with dumb de tectives and trick scenery. (If you liked "The Bat" and its progeny.) The Goodbye Kiss: Johnny Burke's doughboy gags in story form and with Sennett touches. (If you have heard Johnny Burke, yes — otherwise, no.) The News Parade: Newsreel Nick pho tographs a Tartar and weds his daughter. (If novelty suffices.) The Hawk's Nest: Milton Sills at his extremely bad worst. (No.) Sadie Thompson: Gloria Swanson in one of those pictures that must be seen if pictures are to be talked about intelli' gently. (Yes.) The Actress: Norma Shearer in and as "Trelawney of the Wells." (Yes.) Hold 'Em Yale: Rod LaRocque as an improved William Haines in a revised "Brown of Harvard." (Debatable.) Glorious Betsy: Conrad Nagel and Dolores Costello, audible as well as visi' ble, in unique and colorful romance. (If Vitaphonically projected, see it.) The Street of Sin: Emil Jannings far off the straight and narrow path of his artistry. (Omit.) Hangman's House: Victor McLaglen in an oldfashioned story about oldfashioned and charming Ireland. (Yes.) Skyscraper: Riveteers in love with Sue Carol of the North Side. (See Sue.) Diamond Handcuffs: A three-part story, one part good, featuring a jewel sup' ported by several good actors. (Per- haps.) The Enemy: Several reasons why war isn't a good idea, including Lillian Gish. (No.) The Escape: Several reasons why drink is evil. (No.) Honor Bound: A lecture against cruelty to convicts. (No.) Laugh, Clown, Laugh: Lon Chaney at his best. (By all means.) The Legion of the Condemned: Gary Cooper in the best war-plane story to date. (Certainly.) Easy Come, Easy Go: Richard Dix in slapstick. (Optional.) Powder My Back: Irene Rich in one of her rare good pictures. (Do.) The Devil Dancer: Gilda Gray for no good reason. (Don't.) Lady Be Good: Jack Mulhall and Doro thy Mackaill in backstage comedy. (Pos sibly.) The Little Shepherd of Kingdom Come: Dick Barthelmess at home in them thar mountains. (All Wright.) Three Sinners: Pola Negri in Pola Negri stuff. (If you care for Pola.) Sorrell and Son : H. B. Warner in a practically perfect picture. (Absolutely.) The Crowd: King Vidor in the manner of Dr. Frank Crane. (Forget it.) The Patsy : Marion Davies' best comic. (Positively.) Speedy: Harold Lloyd in the pink. (With' out fail.) The Smart Set: William Haines at his dumbest. (Under no condition.) mm msmmmmmmmmmaam ¦T When the solitudes become too silent Folks flee from the bombardment of city sounds, and then find that the great silent spaces are too still for solid comfort! The Brunswick Portable Phonograph gives back-to-nature a fair break . . . seasons the solitude with a symphony ... or a lively dance orchestra ... or a bit of jazz on those days when it drizzles and spirits are dampened. Make this little hand - baggage Brunswick a part of your camp equipment. Come in and hear it perform, or ask us to send you one. T7 COMMONWEALTH EDISON O Quehring Studios The Temple of Youth, Inc. 1400 LAKE SHORE DRIVE Introducing THE SOCIETY WAVE A REMARKABLE NEW DIS COVERY — of a hidden wave in all hair that enables giving a per manent that is really a NATURAL WAVE. Camping Time Have you chosen the camp for your daughter? FRONTENAC — a small limited camp for girls — in the THOU SAND ISLANDS. A summer of pleasure and health building: water sports, horseback, tennis, trips among the Islands, no mosquitoes, modern sanitation. Post season camp for older girls and adults in September. Catalog Claire L. Loofbourrow 508 N. Oak Park Ave. 'Phone Euclid 2639 24 TI4E CHICAGOAN Decidedly Different/ Hams «nd Bacon ^t VERYBODY enjoys a change— when v^ it proves to be for the better! You'll find there is a difference between "Sweet meat" hams and bacon and the other kind — unanimously in favor of "Sweetmeat" with their old-time, full flavor that is not possible by the modern quick, chemical cures and substitutes for the genuine old hickory smoke that makes different from the rest. Treat yourself to an old-time breakfast of ham [or bacon] and eggs but tell your dealer you want to try "Sweetmeat Brand" — 35 years ago we began this business, determined to make the best— not the most— and we have succeeded! Dealers of the better class can supply you — if yours cannot now, he will, or let us tell you where there is one who will. Roberts & Oake CHICAGO "Pork products exclusively since 1895* ^mCAGOAN 407 So. Dearborn Street Going away? The Chicagoan will follow yon — making its first fornightly arrival three weeks after notice — if you will fill in the ap pended form. (Name) (New address) (Old address) - (Date of change) Newsprint The New Journal THE most interesting development affecting the Chicago newspaper situation in the last decade occurred June 1, when it was then announced that S. E. Thomason, who resigned as general manager of The Tribune in February, 1927, had purchased the Chicago Journal and become its pub lisher. Outside the newspaper profes sion, the name may not be one to con jure with, but within the circle there are few who enjoy the respect and admiration which are his. The Tribune was a great newspaper when Thomason became business mana ger in 1917, and undoubtedly would have continued to be a great news paper, but from 1917 to 1927 Thoma son, as business manager, vice-president and then general manager, was one of the principal cogs in the organisation which gave the W. G. N. seven-league boots and staggering profits. It was reported at the time Thoma son left the Tribune that a commission arrangement with the paper had made him one of the highest paid newspaper employes in the world. In fact so high that renewal of his agreement was unlikely, despite his exceptional ability and record. IN the past fifteen months, in associa tion with John Stewart Bryan of Virginia, Thomason has acquired The Tribune of Tampa, Fla., and The Record of Greensboro, N. C. Both apparently have been successful, but it is The Journal which will give him his real test and opportunity. Every move Thomason has made since his purchase promises big things. His announcement of purchase was con servative and forceful. He elected to continue The Journal as an independ- TWECmCAGOAN 25 ent Democratic newspaper. Richard J. Finnegan is retained as managing editor. He has made no changes of importance in the editorial content as yet, apparently taking time to study the needs of situation before acting. About September, things should break loose in the afternoon field. The Kiews and American have had everything their own way for a long time. They are entrenched to defend their position. Before Thomason ap- peared on the horizon, The Post was rumored ready to spend a sizeable amount on a circulation drive. Now, apparently, the battle is to be a four- sided one. It should be interesting. The stakes are big. The Journal probably brought two millions. The l^lews is worth well over fifteen mil lions. If Thomason can make The Journal "big time," there are ample rewards ahead. Ticker~Tyjie THE importance of type display in newspapers is well illustrated by the way in which The Herald- Examiner now presents the New York stock exchange reports. For years, stock reports were carried in the smallest machine type available, and probably wisely so, as the nunv ber of people interested was limited. In these 4,000,000-share days, with the exchanges closing down entirely at intervals to let the clerks catch up with the transactions and almost everyone plunging a bit now and then, it ap pears rather extraordinary that the idea did not come sooner. The Herald-Examiner prints the daily quotations in a large type, easily read. It now has the most interesting financial department of any newspaper in the city, yet the only practical dif ference is in the size of the type. IF you are truly interested in one or both of the national conventions, buy all of the six local newspapers for a few days. It will surprise you how interesting, or uninteresting, the writers of the various newspapers can make an event of that kind. — EZRA. Dressed to Kill: Lowell Sherman in a polished underworld. (Yes.) Chicago: Cecil B. DeMille's interpreta tion. (Surely.) My Best Girl: Mary Pickford, of course. (Don't miss.) The Circus: Charles Chaplin at the peak. (At all costs.) they're back, from Europe; they begin tonight Fowler <& amara and their m«iriinb«i Band AVING "conquered the Continent," Addison Fowler and Florenz Tamara are back home for the sum mer, back on the Beach Walk at the Edgewater Beach Hotel, back to receive the plaudits of Chicago after two highly successful seasons at the Kit Kat Club, London, and the Folies Bergeres, Paris. New Dances— zoo New Costume* Paul Poiret recently picked Florenz Tamara as the "best- dressed woman in Paris." Her wardrobe is said to contain two hundred complete changes of costume! The European press has been filled with sensational accounts of these much-admired American dancers. "The cleverest exhibi tion pair America has ever sent to this country," says the London Chronicle. And — that Marimba Band! An added feature — Fowler & Tamara's own organization — seven pieces — and what playing! Also the famous EDGE- ^ I WATER BEACH HOTEL ORCHESTRA for alluring V dance music "to the light of the silvery moon." For Reservations call Longbeach 6000 Edgewater Beach Hotel 5300 Block Sheridan Road Importers FINAL CLEARANCE on all Spring and Summer lines of merchandise at unusual reduc' tions. A few exceptional values in Sport Ensembles. 6 H. Michigan Ave. Chicago Time Out! . . . just long enough to remind you that the stirring polo matches now being played on several grounds easily reached from the Loop are re ported fully and accurately in 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 BrenUno's 26 TUECI4ICAG0AN lor Future Fears and Past Regrets 11IOK ^WLMM <v« Europe s Scientific Beauty Discovery *I?IGHT now, in thousands of boudoirs, V-women are facing tkeir mirrors with misgivings — some fearing what the rush of present-day social exigencies may have upon the future — others regretting that in the past they did not properly care for their skin and complexions. Amor Skin, discovered hy German scientists, helps banish these tragic fears and rueful regrets. It penetrates beneath the outer skin and pro motes healthy cell growth. If your skin is still firm and lineless, Amor Skin will help keep it so; if flabby, sagging skin and wrinkles on face, neck and hands bespeak the passage of time, Amor Skin will prove invaluable in correcting this by setting again into motion the natural functions of the skin. Amor Skin is more than a mere cos metic, more than a temporary artifice. It is an organic preparation — easy to use — harmless — which has the endorsement of lovely women here and in Europe as the lost effective means for restoring and preserving beauty. \ AMORSKIN CORP. AMOR ¦"¦ SKIN is imported from Germany in sealed packages andsold only in reproduction of a rare Pompeian lamp. Single Strength (for women twenty to thirty -five) . . . $16.50 Double Strength (for those beyond thirty-five or for difficult cases) . . . $25.00 111-113 W. 57th St. New York City AMOR SKIN ¦**¦ received the Grand Prix and Gold Medal at Paris, 1927; Gran Premio and Medaglia d*Oro at Flor ence, 1927. AMOR SKIN ASK about Amor Skin at leading depart ment stores, chemists and specialty shops or send for interesting booklet and reprint of article on Amor Skin appear ing in recent medical journal. Amorskin Corporation Steinway Hall, 111-113 W. 57th St. New York City Please send booklet Name. \. Address. ^^^M BOOK/ Su St Sti ones Otrung on otrmgs By SUSAN WILBUR AS "The Bridge of San Luis Rey" i climbs to its two hundredth thousand, there are beginning to be al' most as many stories about it as there used to be about Ford cars. Have you heard the latest? One commuter asks another, if he has heard how some' one went up to a clerk and asked for "this new book on Bridge that every one's talking about, by someone named Sam Louis Ray." Whereupon his seat' mate comes back with the one that's a day newer. "Yes, but did you hear about the clerk who told a customer that the Bridge of San Luis Rey was a mystery story: Five people were crossing a perfectly good bridge, and, without any reason at all, the bridge suddenly breaks. The mystery was, who did it?" Well, you can hardly blame a busy book clerk for making mistakes occa' sionally, and of course the not so very second best seller in our town just now is a mystery story. And not only is the story — "The Greene Murder Case" — a mystery, but detective work has had to be performed on the author — S. S. Van Dine — as well. And, finger prints having so to speak been taken, it turns out that S. S. Van Dine and Willard Huntington Wright, author of books on architecture, aesthetics and what have you, are one and the same. i ALL of which brings us to Joseph i Hergesheimer 's new book "Quiet Cities," and the startling discovery that after all "The Bridge of San Luis Rey" may only have been a sign that we were in for a new formula. Meaning a new formula for the type of book that is to be accepted as more or less great while still enjoying the benefits of adequate gate receipts. This formula has already changed twice within the memory of twentieth cen- tury man. Before the war Arnold Bennett — or was it J. D. Beresford? — discovered to us the delights of follow ing young men and women through three volumes of gas jets and other realistic details in search of their souls. This British discovery has been fol' lowed since the war by an American one — the novel of the Nordic farm community in America — "Wild Geese," "Giants in the Earth," "Red Rust" — a formula which is apparently good for a hundred thousand copies to any author able to put it over — plus all the honors. But this formula, if it be a formula, is not entirely a new one. It has a touch of Chaucer and Boccaccio to it. Only that instead of stringing a bunch of short stories together by means of anything, such as a house party or a trip to Canterbury, both Mr. Wilder and Mr. Hergesheimer have gone to philosophy for their adhesive principle Not that Mr. Hergesheimer's motive in "Quiet Cities" is as deep a one as Mr. Wilder's. But it is at least as universal. Our nostalgia for the past. Old Charleston, old Albany, Pitts burgh when it had only a thousand inhabitants, New Orleans before it had been Louisiana purchased. Doesn't it simply bring a mist to your eyes to think of these old quiet cities that hadn't a motor car or a radio in the lot of them? Mr. Hergesheimer had the same feeling when he started writ' TMECI4ICAG0AN 27 ^ JL/escending a graceful stairway from the main floor to the lower Lobby, one comes upon an arcade of fascinating shops . . . Off the corridor is the famous air-cooled Roosevelt Grill — New York's brightest rendezvous for dining and dancing. eX, or those who seek detachment from the intensity of modern Manhattan, The ROOSEVELT provides an atmosphere of quiet comfort and charm . . . Its early Colonial appointments^ delicious cuisine and personalized service assure a pleasurable sojourn — whether your tenure be long or transient. ? . ? ? Connected by private passage with Grand Central and the subways . . . Complete Travel and Steamship Bureau . . . "Teddy Bear Cave, " a supervised play- nursery for children of guests . . . Health Institute, with therapeutic baths and plunge. . . Special garage facilities. THE ROOSEVELT ORCHESTRA in the GRILL MADISON AVE. at 45th St. NEW YORK Edward Clinton Fogg Managing Director <^r ing. He tells you so in the first chap- ter. But the mist is not for long. Things happen that make the speed and the noise of our unquiet Chicago seem like the merest amateur attempt at unquietness. "The Road to Heaven' THOMAS BEER is a good writer, so good that you can read straight through "The Road to Heaven," and perhaps contemplate it for a day or two besides, before realising that in point of fact what he has written this time is a bad novel. So bad that good writing could scarcely have been hung upon a worse plot and survived except as burlesque. A prize fighter finds himself penni' less in Boston. He is confronted by the problem of getting himself to New York, where he has a cousin who is a bookseller, the problem being compli' cated by the fact that he is in danger of fainting from hunger during the two hours of dawn that remain before the pawn shops are likely to open. One expects him either to faint and be ar rested, or to do something. No, a drunk comes along. Heaven, as understood by the title, is his father's farm back in Ohio, and he has accidentally forfeited it by rea- son of a woman. Again one expects him to do something. But no, Cin derella merely sits in the house of his cousin the bookseller, while fairy god mothers fall in showers about his ears. It is all written, however, with an exquisite solemnity, a withholding that keeps our hero a mystery almost to the last, thereby substituting curiosity for suspense, and giving a delicate sense of excitement, due not to what actually happens but to the effort of finding out what is supposed to have happened off stage. Paragraph Pastime The Intelligent Woman's Guide to Socialism and Capitalism, by George Bernard Shaw. (Brentano's.) If 495 large pages for $3 be Socialism, we are for it. But Mr. Shaw's ideal of what Socialism should be — equal salaries for everybody, man, woman and child — is going to be a long time coming, and he admits it. Apart from the specific pro posals for our future welfare, there is in these pages a great deal of common- sense comment about the present, GONGORISM AND THE GOLDEN AGE, by Elisha K. Kane. (University of North Carolina Press.) This "Study of Exuber ance and Unrestraint in the Arts" tells us what some of us have suspected — that the past has its futurisms in art no less than the present. The particular burst of that sort of thing here wittily discussed was in Spain in the seventeenth century — when the impoverishment of imagination following on the Golden Age led the artist to cloak that poverty in the many colored robes of bizarre imagery, conceits and eccentricities. The book is copiously illustrated — both in the senses of quotations from Gongora and other poets of the period and in the more usual one of having reproductions of paintings and statuary. Octavia, by Margot Asquith. (Frederick A. Stokes Company.) A series of hunt ing prints framed in Victorian conversa tion and of love scenes of a somewhat more advanced character framed ditto. American Inquisitors: A Commentary on Dayton and Chicago, by Walter Lippmann. (The Macmillan Company.) In the pronouncements preliminary to this fantasia upon the trials of Messrs. Scopes and McAndrew, Mr. Lippmann complains of Mr. Mencken and the rest of us that we take all the shortcomings of democracy as a show, breakfast table en tertainment. For his own part he prefers to take them as philosophical entertain* ment. Quiet Cities, by Joseph Hergesheimer. (Alfred A. Knopf.) Scraps of the American scene from 1758 to the 1870's, and from Albany to New Orleans, with stories and characters to fit. 28 TWECUICAGOAN Twenty-one Thirty Lincoln Park West Even if Location were all — Twenty-One Thirty Lincoln Park West would be extraordinary Entirely co-operative building possessing fea tures that are even more notable than its superb location. Here the own er may personally de sign his own apartment — here he is guaranteed that his assessments shall not exceed the es timated cost — here every apartment over looks the lake, park and city, here are rooms of adequate size, beautiful appointments and every known convenience and utility. Nothing has been overlooked, not even location — even if that were all — Twenty One Thirty would be most extraordinary. Six Rooms, 3 Baths, and Larger Purchase Prices $14,400, and higher Lincoln Park West Trust 2130 Lincoln Park West Lincoln 8631 MU/ICAL NOTE/ The Symphony Season in Review By ROBERT POLLAK IT might be well, while the Chicago musical world waits breathlessly for the Ravinians to start things off with "The Masked Ball" and while Con ductor Papi is striving val iantly to get away from El lis Island, to take a brief look at the symphony sea son. It was not one of startling nov elty. Frederick Stock, a gen tleman of un usual catholic ity as a pro gram maker, has made no bones about telling us what he thinks of the modern composition of Mittel-Europa. Schreker, Korngold, Schonberg, Kaminski, Wellecz, and Krenek, to name only a few, have found little or no hearing at the hands of the Chicago band. Even the radical Ital ians, such as Malipiero and Casella, have temporarily passed from the lists; and in France, the Six do not amuse as they did when the sheen of novelty had not worn from their whimsical works. To our mind, the most outstanding first hearings, by and large, of the past season were Ernest Bloch's Suite for Viola and Orchestra, Szymanowski's Concerto for Violin and Resphigi's "Church Windows." The Bloch opus, rich in true Oriental coloring, passion ate, complex, and of great melodic sweep and beauty, certainly should be heard again. Ssymanowski, the Pole, a foremost contemporary, contributed a work marvelous in dexterity of orches tration and revelatory of a new violin technique that put the historic dia- bleries of Paganini to shame. Kochan- ski's performance, as soloist, was un forgettable. Rave! and Other Classics THE visit of Ravel was productive of at least the second Daphnis and Chloe Suite, and its interpretation by the composer, if less exciting than M. Kussewitski's, was more authoritative than Mr. Stock's version. There were the usual good old standbys, saving only the great Franck symphony which was given a one-year rest. B ruckner's Ninth with its fantastic scherzo move ment, Debus sy's (yes, he's a standby now) Iberia, Strauss' E i n Heldenleben, generous sprinklings of Wagner and Bach, and Scriabin's Di vine Poem, a grand thing under Stock's baton. The anniversary of Schubert was unnoticed by any vocal soloist but we had the Unfinished and the Schu- bert-Lisst Fantasia. The following choice berries are awarded the booby prize with an ap pended suggestion that they be stowed away in the files of Librarian Handke forever: Casella's "Italia" Rhapsodie, which the composer is heartily ashamed of by this time; Rimsky's "Schehere- zade," which is getting badly frayed; TaylorV 'Jurgen/1 which is not so bad except that it might have been so good; and Schoenefeld's violin-cello concerto, which was an error on the part of Schoenefeld and others. All in all, as Mr. Stock would re mark himself, "We feel that it has been one of the best seasons in our history, but that's what I say every year." An average season, then, not startling by reason of its original con tent, but intelligently proportioned and productive of considerable great music played in a fine manner. Marking Time TURNING to the economic aspect of the orchestra, we report dole fully that the situation has not changed for the better. The newspapers, with the union and the Orchestral Associa tion, are lying low, playing a waiting game. All Symphony member's con tracts have technically expired and the TMECI4ICAC0AN 29 same deadlock exists between the Or chestral Bigwigs and the Petrillians that existed last summer at this time As is common knowledge, the Daily 7<lews fund was never officially recog nized by the Orchestral Association, nor was it administered by them. But it had its natural psychological effect on the members of the orchestra and, having eaten cake last season, they do not expect to eat bread next fall. It is our opinion that the Orchestra could get itself permanently subsidized by asking in tones above a whisper for money from the gentlefolk of the com munity. But the Association will not raise its voice to ask for endowment until it has some idea what the future policy of the Musician's Union will be. And all this makes it a very tough situation. More Fun For Sulhvanttes IF you are still in the throes of an intellectual hang-over as a result of Winthrop Ames' Gilbert and Sullivan troupe, you will take considerable in terest in "Sir Arthur Sullivan, His Life, Letters and Diaries" (Doran) by his nephew, Herbert Sullivan, and Newman Flowers, the English editor. Sullivan's career, from the time he was a bright-eyed Leipsic music-student un til the final split with Gilbert, is therein recounted in fascinating detail. Sullivan, alternately attracted by re ligious music and light-opera, did not fall between the two stools. Although for many years he was a sick and weary man, he had that peculiar gift of concentration and drive that belongs only to genius; and his indisputable gift for work in fields as far apart as the poles led him to leave us such master pieces as "The Golden Legend" and "Iolanthe." Wax Works The Ladies and Gentleman of the Red Seal have begun their trek to Bar Har bor, Deauville and Carlsbad, and there fore the crop of highbrow records is, at the moment, slim. The weary collector can give his wallet a rest for at least a month. The vocal and instrumental rep resentatives of the lighter side of life are still on the job, however, and fol lowing are some choice specimens for your old music-box: Old Man River, played by Whiteman's Concert Orchestra, and sung by Paul Robeson and a mixed chorus. This is a free fantasia on the best number in "Showboat" and the Robeson feller has a magnificent voice. Strongly recom mended. On the reverse side is a harm' less selection of other "Showboat" tunes. (Victor.) FREE TIRE SERVICE Charge Account Privileges Wholesale Prices on the world's best tires MICHELIN You can arrange to secure a 1 year guarantee certificate with every Michelin you purchase here for regular pleasure car use. This gives you full insurance against blow-outs, cuts, bruises, and like road hazards. Only the super-quality of Michelins enable us to render these services. You'll get a new idea of what tire satisfaction and economy can be. Auto Owner's Supply Co* 2115 Michigan Boulevard Telephones Calumet 3041-3275 444 BELMONT AVE. 100% COOPERATIVE Just Around the Corner from Everything You Wish In the heart of an exclusive section, removed from noise and crowds, yet with the Park, Lake and transportation quickly available, these beau- .tiful apartments, consisting of six rooms, three baths, en closed sleeping porch and breakfast room, offer a most desirable home. You certainly should inspect them now. Your own terms at reasonable prices OMAN & LILIENTHAL Managers Tribune Tower . Superior 2372 B Ideal Swnmerlfacations A ermudA Only 2 Days fromNevrYorkA Jk Low, all'expense inclusive tours. Eight days, $102 (up). Effective June 1st Two sailings weekly by palatial, new motorship "BERMUDA," 20,000 tons gross and S. S. "FORT VIC TORIA." Hote: Bermuda is free from Hay Fever CANADIAN CRUISES 12 days, New York-Quebec via Halifax, N. S. A day each way at Halifax and two days at Quebec for sight' seeing. S. S. "FORT ST. GEORGE" July 14 and 28, Aug. 11 and 2?. Round Trip— 12 days— $140 up One Way to Quebec — $75 up For illustrated booklets write Furness Bermuda Line 307 N. Michigan Ave. Chicago 34 Whitehall St., New York or any authorized agent 30 THE CHICAGOAN 507 ALDINE AVE. NEAR SHERIDAN ROAD Just Twelve Minutes from your offi ce — This Charming Home The Aldlne is ideally located. Quite removed from all the , unpleasantness of traffic con gestion and crowds, yet but twelve minutes by motor from the loop — of course you'll find these five and six room apart ments possess every desirable feature— and more — Plan to inspect them now. The Aldine is a 100% Co-op erative. Your own terms at reasonable prices. OMAN & LILIENTHAL Managers Tribune Tower Superior 2372 good old elizct 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 •election 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. The CWICACOENNE T eddies— T arl eton — Turtles By ARCYE WILL FOR one of those everything-all- wrong days, when you feel all full of nerves, allow me to prescribe a Dorothy Gray facial. Time by appointment, place 900 Mich. This method is patting rather than rubbing and it is truly as delightfully rest ful and cooling as a dip in the surf. Add to that a noticeable improvement of appearance — at least my stock went up with me after one treatment — plenty said. The creams used are unusually delicate. One in particular, smelling of carnations, looks like a strawberry parfait, and an astringent cream of molasses consistency was the most refreshing thing that ever happened to me in a like place. All the work rooms are flesh pink the same in every store so that you feel at home no matter in what State. The reception room is stunning 16th Century Spanish, inter esting old doors and fixtures, and if early for your appointment a small movie in the wall shows you the home treatment. The creams and powders are all put up in attractive sea green boxes. Ornate but not overly so, and should add a dainty touch to the dressing table. Their special vanity case, which comes in all prices and colored leathers, is the most complete I have seen. Beside the powder and rouge compartment there is one for mascara with a small brush and a lipstick. I'm more pleased with this than any I've ever lost. AMOR SKIN, the much talked of l new cream (to the masses), is quite marvelous. Though expensive at the start, one jar is sufficient to last for a six months treatment. And the tales I've heard tell seem to vouch for a really great change in your appearance, if you are only faithful with your applications. It takes just five minutes patience at night to improve flaccid and wrinkled skin until it is smooth and clear. Little enough time for such a boon to many. And, believe it or not, it's made from the oreolar tis sue of testudinata! (Run for your dictionary.) Procurable at the leading Department stores. I WAS trying to find a nice cool suit, during one of our in-between- freezing spells, and on the sixth floor at Fields in the Fashion Bureau I saw it. My sketch will give you the idea. The blouse is of hand kerchief linen with a round ruffled collar and a tie of the yellow and black printed silk that forms the skirt. The skirt is plain in back with a box and side pleat in front on a tight hip fitting yoke. The blouse, by the way, can't possibly creep up, as instead of being like the usual shirt waist it is long and with a little tab like a teddy. Great idea, don't you think? The short box coat is of black jersey lined with the printed silk. This de partment specializes in quick service to brides or people going away in a hurry. All you have to do is phone Mrs. Carter for an appointment and she will have a complete outfit, shoes, hat, bag, gloves, etc., to go with a smart dress or suit at any price you desire, all ready for you to step into. On the second floor are some ex quisite imported flowers of Celesta (much like micca) which can be washed. A table set with Amber glass and a pale green holder with these shiny white daisies was lovely and the different shades of pink primroses on another table made it difficult to decide which was more attractive. On the State street side, same floor, are heaps of lovely flowered matelasse materials. Lined with a contrasting shade, it makes a most fetching robe or negligee. Oh, yes, and did you ever hear of THE CHICAGOAN 31 using tarleton for your summer glass curtains? It comes in all the soft shades (pale yellow or green especially good) and all you have to do is hem the top, cut the bottom off evenly and tie it back with a big sploochy bow of the same. The effect is the same as organdy and if carefully laundered and restarched it will last; otherwise throw it away and put up some more. Buy a bolt for the summer, it's awfully cheap, and you are all set. In the drapery department, upstairs, there is some beautiful crewel embroidered theatrical gauze for a more dis tinguished establishment, but, if you want just a plain color you can save by going to the Boston Store! CARSON PIRIE'S tub dress sec tion has a remarkable lot at most reasonable prices. Some of madras, with either short or long sleeves, and convertible collar, are great for tennis or golf, as they are heavy enough to do without the much despised "pettie." One in tan had rose, green and yellow stripes on the skirt and all of them are colorful, yet not loud. Five dollars and yours! They also have a yellow Japanese damask with a V neck outlined with entre deux also on the cuffs and pock ets. Many imported voiles and ensem bles in rajah. The prices so reasonable I could scarcely believe it. * I'm sure you all know C. A. Zoes on the second floor of the Venetian Bldg., and the peachy shines and the perfect silver and gold shoe dyeing they do. But did you know that your pale blond or grey kid shoes, when spotted beyond repair, though perfectly good otherwise, could be dyed a successful and non rub-offable black? In the same building on the ninth floor M. & S. Wenk have some hand painted coolie coats. (Done to death last year, but I must admit still useful on the beach.) One nice one had a green base and lavender and yellow irregular stripes. Any other color you want really. * To go back to Fields, which you can see I did rather thoroughly to say the least, in the Modern Art section, sec ond floor, are some dandy small tin flower pots. Diamond shape explains them, one pair pale yellow and gold with a small print pasted on the side, others a little simpler in plain red or green lacquer with gold trimming. JOURNALI/TIC JOURNEY/ The Outboard Marathon YACHTSMEN in the Milwaukee Yacht Club harbor are confident and stable fellows, ruddy and amiable. They move about their craft with lei sure befitting an assured position. Glance tolerantly at the weather. And endure the crowd. Not so the outboard motor racers who caper over the narrow slip like so many frantic water beetles. The little boats dodge, turn, zig-zag, miss each other and the yachts by inches and raise a blue fume of gasoline smoke over the oily and harassed water. A commodore charged with starting the race raises a blue fume also, a fume which includes power racers, officials, the choppy weather, and the delayed gasoline supply — to all of these things he attributes a remote and sinful origin. The lake, says the commodore, is high and white-capped. Still it is possible to race over it. But tut tut tut tut! Let's get started! Outboarders pay small attention. They recline on the Yacht Club's lawn, some of them. Others tinker with their minute craft, assisted by friends and relatives and well wishers who haul the outboards casually out of the slip and as casually douse them back again. This hauling and dousing is easy. An outboard speed boat is incredibly small and fragile. One passenger is the rule. Two at most. Speed— from 25 to 30 miles an hour. Such is the water me' ' chanic's garden — or perhaps his flower pot — but how he cultivates it! He nurses it with gasoline, prunes it with wrenches. THE little boats make up a raffish, motley fleet. All shapes. The swankier midgets gleam with mahogany decks bellied very tritely and literally as a violin; — a bass viol, adequately powered, would do nicely as an out board. Less swagger racers borrow lines from the cigar box. A few tin contestants from the sardine can. And a great number appear as overgrown peach crates partially decked in with awning canvas. All whirr, hum, chit- ter and puff with insect liveliness; their owners delight in them, the mechanic's rapture over anything shiny that goes and goes fast. Just now movie men and city re porters are making a great stir. Pho- NORTHERN WISCONSIN Where you9 11 land the big ones j'OME place in J this wonderful 1 Land O'Lakes of silver and green and blue, there's a big one, an old wise one lying in the lee of a log and fanning his fins lazily through the cur rents, three feet down. He's watching the sun sink long coils of gold through the afternoon that cools the twilight. And some morning he's going to lunge just a little too quickly for a fly that's a little too bright —and why not be back of the slow deceptive flick of the wrist that skittered that fly over the old one's reflective pool? Man, that's the treat in store for you up North Western way — in Northern Wisconsin— just overnight from Chicago. Low Summer Fares Splendid Overnight Trains For Full Information, Reservations and Tickets, apply TICKET OFFICES 148 So. Clark St. Pass. Terminal Phone Dearborn 2323 126 W.Jackson St. Phone Dearborn 2121 CHICAGO & Phone Dearborn 2323 Pass. Information Phone Dearborn 2060 Northwestern RAILWAY 32 TUECI4ICAGOAN tographers demand accommodations in speed boats which will keep up with the racers. There are too few speed boats. The photographers sulk.- Re porters say bad words. A fat camera man repeats accusingly from a pink, woebegone face, "But I was here first. I was here first. I was here first." He goes on to say that one of the fellows in the best boat has only a pocket camera. He indicates his mound of equipment. Finally he is assigned. Camera men from the big newsreel companies are indignantly aloof. They get preferred assignments. Reporters from the big papers announce them selves, become blase, testy, incurably vexed. So they, too, are parceled out in preferred places. Little fellows get on as best they can — somehow they get on. The commodore condemns all press and movie people dreadfully, venomously, forever. He is condemned back. The mayor of Milwaukee shakes hands with the little girl driver. Not all the camera men were ready. He shakes hands again. A warning shot from a toy cannon aboard the starting cruiser and the little racers hum out of the slip like a hive of hornets. They circle and buss and spatter inside the breakwater. A suc cession of code flags from the starting cruiser. Another shot. A whole con centrated, furious hum and the race is on. The beetle flotilla breaks for the open lake. SEEN from the bluffs along the west shore of Michigan the outboards are specks against the white-capped blue lake, specks like water spiders scudding along on feet of white foam. An airplane, like a dragon fly, patrols the migration. The Coast Guard has a busy time of it. Six drivers are fished out between Milwaukee and Racine to the delighted cranking of movie pho- togs. The onshore wind is cold, raw. Speed and the short slugging waves in flict a merciless, numbing pounding on the tiny craft. Out of the 62 starters only 32 check into Waukegan. Minus, this time, an unfortunate driver who left his craft for a glorious sitting splash in a wave trough as his jubilant outboard tacks for the distant Michigan shore. At Waukegan the drivers stagger onto the pier. Chilled, wet, dizsy, some of them sea sick. Strange, one notes, how many red-heads survive. Red-heads are a hardy breed. And one fiery southern youth, a valiant young rebel in a tiny craft. He drawls the story of a hard drive through chat tering teeth. The girl driver is fourth at Waukegan. A smiling brownfaced child in overalls and bulky oilskin with life preservers under it. She seems fresh, warm and hugely pleased with the lark. And she is admirably self contained. Not so the mother who meets her boy at the Waukegan pier to discover he has driven from Mil waukee without a helmet. She wants something done about it, and done quickly. Her boy is embarrassed. Every male within earshot is embar rassed. THERE are sandwiches at Wau kegan. The next stop is Wil- mette. But the lake is kicking up. Thirty-one midgets leave Waukegan. Twelve leave Wilmette. Pounding, and cold spray driven like birdshot into the eyes, and the jarring, paralyS' ing vibration of hard driven motors — but against them is the amateur spirit in its full quixotic flower. One recalls a soaking driver at the Kenosha stop. "I might win by holding back," he said. "At any speed on this lake my scow will turn over any minute and I know it. So will every other boat. But Hell, I don't want to win that way. I'll drive in or swim out.'" He swam out. Such is not romance, nor even sanity, but it is the amateur flame. It is sport. A sea plane fished Bill Lyman out of the billows at Thorndale Avenue. His Lyman Special sank. It was lead ing the race. And brown, smiling Miss Richardson, 15, finished first of the eight finishers off the Municipal Pier. The name of her craft: "Lady Spartan." Unfortunately spelled. But it sounds right. — F. c. c. BROADCAST STATION for sale or lease; 500 watt, elec. type . . . Now op erating 25 hours nightly, 50 hours daytime. — The Chicago Advertiser. It does seem that long. This man probably knows more about the human skin than any one else in the world. He is Dr. Francois Debat, chief dermatologist of the Saint Antoine Hospital in Paris . . . creator of I N N O X A (PUT YOUR SKIN ON A MILK DIET) LAIT INNOXA is so easily applied that it needs no demonstration! Use it for a min ute or two, morning and night . . . your skin will find it strength giving, rejuvenating and cleansing Obtainable at leading stores everywhere 2.00 3.50 4.00 And in tne Next Issue The Chicagoan Will Present: ARTHUR MEEKER, JR., in "Why Girls Come Out— And a Few of Them" GENE MARKETS own "Home Movie Scenarios" SAMUEL PUTNAM with "A Chicagoan on the Riviera" DICK SMITH and his "Early Chicago Railroads" FRANCIS C. COUGHLIN offering "Drinking"— Catch as Catch Can" RUTH G. BERGMAN'S portrayal of "Julius Rosenwald" Footlighted with drawings by CONSTANTIN ALADJALOV, A. R. KATZ, WALTER H. SCHMIDT, BURTON BROWNE, PETER KOCH, HERMINA A. SELZ, LEONARD DOVE, J. H. E. CLARK and others. Performance begins June 30 at crack 0' dawn. The dotted line forms at the right The Chicagoan j 407 So. Dearborn St. I Chicago, 111. Send "The Chicagoan" one year $3.00 — two years $5.00 Name | Address City - State It's toasted fl No Throat Irritation No Cough.