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   <body>       For Forfnic^hT- Ending   ust 25, 1928   Aug Price 15 Certs   &#128;Bom(§©AM   Reg. U. S. Pat. Off.   &#132;¦&#149;''   x0d/       You're probably considering   an all-electric radio   Model Seven-twentysix. 'Victor   Electrola Radiola. Electrola re   produces records electrically, with   volume that can be regulated.   Radiola is the new RCA 18. All-   electric. (Alternating current.)   7V[o batteries. List price $425.   HERE is RCA's newest, Radiola 18 &#151; an improve   ment on the most popular of all radios, Radiola   17. It is combined in the same beautiful cabi   net with Victor's latest Electrola &#151; the instru   ment that reproduces record-music electrically,   with volume that may be regulated from an   ethereal whisper to enough to fill the largest   room.   Both Electrola and Radiola operate from the   electric-light socket. (Alternating current.) No   batteries required. A switch changes instantly   from radio to records. Radiola 18 is a six-tube,   tuned-radio-frequency receiver. Single-dial tun   ing, and unusually selective. Tiny electric light   over station-selector. Latest cone-type repro   ducer and short horn. Outside-antenna opera   tion. Tones are clear, mellow, lifelike ... as   true as the original.   Wall-type cabinet in early English style, fin   ished in walnut veneer. Four rich-looking rec-   ord-albumns of buckram, with backs of genuine   leather, brightly colored. A concealed compart   ment-lamp that operates automatically. Fixed   top, with two doors opening in front and folding   back flush with sides. Ask to see Model Seven-   twenty-six. It will be a treat to eye and ear   alike. Other Victor models, $35 to $1550, list   price.   You are cordially invited to call   STEGER &amp; SONS PIANO MFG. CO.   Steger Building, Northwest Corner Wabash and Jackson   TifE £HIC ^oa*&#151; Martin J. Quigley, Publisher and Editor; published fortnightly by The Chicagoan Publishing Co., 407 South Dearborn St., Chicago,   Th tt &lt;-W- u j- Cei S6a Fifth Ave" Los Angeles Office: 5617 Hollywood Blvd. Subscription $3.00 annually, single copies 15c. Vol. V, No. 1 1&#151; For   tne .fortnight ending August 25. (On sale August 11.) Entered as second class matter at the Post-Office at Chicago, J 11., under the act of March 3, 1879.       TMEO4ICAG0AN 1   TIME IS FLYING   Hours slip into days . . . and days into weeks . . . and   before you know it Revell's Removal Sale will be a mat   ter of memory only! Now is the time for you to take   advantage of these removal bargains. No matter what   you need for your home . . . now or for the future . . .   it can be secured in Revell's Removal Sale at extraor   dinarily low prices.   Obey that impulse!   Bevell'S   at WABASH and ADAMS       2 TWECI4ICAG0AN   OCCASIONS   TUHEFUL &#151; Opera al fresco, nightly at   Ravinia. Dr. Pollak's decree appears on   page 24 of this issue. Sunday editions   of the dailies detail weekly program selec   tions.   AQUATIC &#151; Inland Lake Regatta, Lake   Geneva, August 15.   RUSTIC&#151; Central State Fair, Hagenbeck-   Wallace Circus in supporting role, Exposi   tion Park, Aurora, until August 17. Illi   nois State Fair, prize pigs, pumpkins and   potatoes, Springfield, August 18-25.   MARINE&#151; Aquitania, August 22; Levia   than, August 25, Southampton bound.   DOMESTIC &#151; A new Chicagoan, August   25.   STAGE   Musical Comedy   GOOD NEWS&#151; Selwyn, 180 North Dear   born, Central 3404. A diverting romp   against a college backdrop, lively, tune   ful, humorous and pleasant. An excel   lent hot weather show. Abe Lyman's   music. Curtain 8:20. Thursday and   Saturday 2:20.   GREENWICH VILLAGE FOLLIES &#151;   Four Cohans, 119 North Clark. Cen   tral 8240. A bawdy piece in the Shu-   bert tradition offered as the kind of show   that knocks 'em out in the aisles of this   unrefined town. Music. Gals. Nifties.   And Doctor Rockwell. Reviewed at   length by Charles Collins on page 21.   Curtain 8:20. Sat. 2:20. No Wed.   matinee.   Speaking Parts   ELMER THE GREAT&#151; Blackstone, 60   East Seventh. Harrison 6609. George   M. Cohan and Ring Lardner have set   the bush leaguer, admirably mimed by   Walter Huston, on the stage. The best   speaking play in town. Curtain 8:30.   Saturday 2:30. No Wednesday matinee.   EXCESS BAGGAGE&#151; Garrick, 64 West   Randolph. Central 8240. This observer   is tired saying he doesn't like the drama   tization of vaudeville life and loves, which   runs on and on as a great hit with the   populace. But see it. Curtain 8:20.   Sat. and Wed., 2:20.   A COMPANIONATE MARRIAGE&#151;   Cort, 132 North Dearborn. Central   0019. Another play of propaganda not   overly favored by this observer, although   well cast and nicely enough done. Peo   ple like it. Closing August 18. Curtain   8:30. Sat. and. Wed. 2:30.   Variety   PALACE&#151; Randolph at La Salle. State   6977-8-9. The stronghold of variety en   tertainment especially strong in summer   when the two-a-day stage is crowded   with talent "at liberty" until the heavy   theatrical season opens with the first frost.   Call the box office for program informa   tion. Always a cool show house.   THE CHICAGOAN   PRESENTS   Polo, by Richard Salmon Cover   Current Entertainment &#151; For the   Fortnight Ending August 25 Page 2   For the Inner Man 4   Notes and Comment, by Martin J.   Quigley 5   Intimate Chicago Views, by Burton   Browne 6   "All the Sad Young Men," by James   Weber Linn 7   Broken Rhythm, by Hermia A. Selz..~ 8   Masquerade, by Henry Holmes Smith.. 9   The Local Lido, by Francis C. Cough   lin 10   Beach Folk, by Phil Nesbit 11   "The Chicagoan" Supplies Another   World Fair Poster 12   The Original Gold Coast, by Arthur   Bissell 13   Poetry Department 14   The Home Movie Movement, by Gene   Markey 15   Caste, by Adolph Schusterman 16   A Chicagoan in Geneva, by Samuel   Putnam 17   What's in a Name? 18   Stuyvesant Peabody &#151; Chicagoan, by   Helen S. Young 19   Light Reading, by Henri Weiner 20   The Stage, by Charles Collins 21   The G. V. Follies, by Nat Karson 22   The Cinema, by William R. Weaver.... 23   Music, by Robert Pollak 24   News for Wagnerians 25   The Chicagoenne, by Arcye Will 26   Journalistic Journeys 28   Books, by Susan Wilbur 30   Paragraph Pastime 31   SPORTS   BASEBALL&#151; Cubs: Chicago at St. Louis,   August 11, 12; New York at Chicago,   August 14, 15, 16; Brooklyn at Chicago,   August 17, 18, 19; Philadelphia at Chi   cago, August 20, 21, 22; Boston at Chi   cago, August 24, 25, 26.   White Sox : St. Louis at Chicago, August   10, 11, 12; Chicago at New York, August   14, 15, 16; Boston at Boston, August 17,   18, 20; Chicago at Washington, August   21, 22, 23; Philadelphia at Philadelphia,   August 25, 27, 28, 29.   GOLF &#151; Women's Western &#151; August 20-25,   Indian Hill Golf Club. Sponsored by   W. G. A. Western Amateur &#151; August   27-September 1. Bob o' Link Golf Club.   Sponsored also by the Western Golf   Association.   POLO&#151; At Oak Brook: Seven Eleven   Handicap, August 12; Oak Brook Club   Trophies, August 19. President's Trophy,   August 26.   At Lake Forest: Final elimination tour   nament central circuit, August 12.   August 14, 18, Kansas City Country   Club at Lake Forest.   TENNIS&#151; Beverly Hills Men's Open, B. H.   T. C., August 11-18. National Junior   and Boys' Championships, Culver, Ind.,   August 13-18. Chicago Veteran's Fathers   and Sons Tournament, Oak Park Tennis   Club, August 20.   HORSE RACING&#151; The Hawthorne track,   Cicero, 111., takes up where Lincoln Fields   left off.   CINEMA   UNITED ARTISTS&#151; Randolph at Dear   born &#151; The town's leading cinema. Just   now, King of Kings, mentioned on page   23. Always a good show and never a   juggler, parlor soprano or trick elephant.   Pleasantly, but not boisterously, cool.   McVICKERS&#151;2') W. Madison&#151; Descend   ant of a noble tradition, the screen given   over now to the ubiquitous noisies. Still   a politely conducted performance and al   ways pleasantly cool.   ROOSEVELT&#151; 110 N. State&#151; Likewise   dedicated to the speaking screen, likewise   cool, usually thronged.   CHICAGO &#151; State at Lake &#151; A very hippo   drome, accommodating some 5,000 citi   zens and transients at a performance. En   tertainments include at various times, and   sometimes all at once, anything and every   thing known as indoor amusement. The   cinema to show the visitor. Cool and   usually accessible.   ORIENTAL&#151; 20 W. R a n d o 1 p h&#151; Paul   Ash's merry mad gang entertain to the   baton of Al Kvale. Singers, dancers and   friends of the family perform. Pictures   are shown, also. Young Chicago's favor   ite cinema.   (Continued on Page 4)       TWE CHICAGOAN 3   announcing the first   presentation of an   entirely new shade   in footwear.   all paris is talking   about it -'- and wear   ing it! complete   with bronze steel   buckle. 18.50   SAKS-FIFTH AVENUE   new york   from time to time we make announcements of special importance, should   you be interested, we will be pleased to add your name to our lists.       4 TWECI4ICAG0AN   TABLES   BLACKSTONE HOTEL &#151; 656 South   Michigan. Harrison 4300. A very no   table high point, with cuisine and serv   ice resolutely maintained throughout a   trying summer. Irving Margraff's music.   August Dittrich is headwaiter.   STEVENS HOTEL&#151; 730 South Michigan.   Wabash 4400. A tremendously large   inn, yet carefully scaled down to the   individual guest. Husk O'Hare's dance   music in the main dining room from 6:30   until 9:30. Stalder is headwaiter.   CONGRESS HOTEL&#151; Congress at Michi   gan. Harrison 3800. A show place   wise in the glittering wisdom of the   boulevard. Peacock Alley. The Balloon   Room animated by Isham Jones in highly   competent rhythyms. Good night place.   Ray Barrec is headwaiter.   PALMER HOUSE&#151; State at Monroe. Ran   dolph 7500. A very well situated, hos   pitable and pleasant stopping place. The   Palmer House Symphony Orchestra,   thorough victualry, gracious service.   Mutchler is headwaiter.   COLLEGE INN&#151; Hotel Sherman. Frank   lin 2100. Griswold does the music for   dining and dancing. The summer dol   drums have wilted some of the Inn cheer,   but it is satisfactory until 1 a. m. Brown   is headwaiter.   GRANADA CAFE&#151; 6800 Cottage Grove.   Hyde Park 0646. If it isn't the heat it   must be the humidity in this very lively   and merry dine dance parlor. Crowded,   popular, vibrant. Billy Leather is head-   waiter.   LA SALLE ROOE&#151; La Salle Hotel, Madi   son at La Salle. A novel roof circus and   well patronized by gay fellows of a   slightly collegiate cast for a fair evening   any time. Jack Chapman's music. Floyd   Fuericht is headwaiter. Until 1.   KELLY'S STABLES&#151; Rush at Austin.   Delaware 2141. A show place, and de   servedly, as the noisiest of night clubs.   Worth an inspection. Johnny Matley is   headwaiter. Very late hours.   CHEZ PIERRE&#151; Ontario and Fairbanks   Court. Superior 1347. A delightful and   innocent club, but lately (Bravo!) out   from under a threatened Federal injunc   tion. Earl Hoffman's music. Cheerful   entertainment. Paul is headwaiter. La   ter still.   CLUB AMBASSADEUR&#151; 226 East On   tario. Delaware 0930. The last stand   of the veteran night clubber in a cosy,   well-appointed tavern made brighter by   Helen, loveliest of night club hostesses.   Johnny Itta is headwaiter. Latest yet.   [listings begin on page 2]   ST. HUBERT'S OLD ENGLISH GRILL   &#151; 316 Federal. Wabash 0770. Steaks   and chops transcendantly done in the   British manner.   CAFE LOUISIANE&#151; 1341 South Michi   gan. Michigan 1837. Victory 10533.   Creole food headed by the lordly Pom-   pano in exile from New Orleans. Music   until 12. Mons. Max is headwaiter.   A BIT OF SWEDEN&#151; 1011 North Rush.   Delaware 4598. Norse victuals robustly   served in a quaint, pleasing eating parlor.   Worth a try. English she is spoken.   RED STAR INN&#151; 1528 North Clark.   Delaware 3942. A very stout German   place, quaint, satisfying, filling. Try it.   VICTOR HOUSE&#151; 9 East Grand Avenue.   Delaware 1848. An Italian place, un   pretentious and vastly decked on the   tables. Abundant food. An eating par'   lor for the hefty trencherman.   IRELAND'S OYSTER HOUSE &#151; 632   North Clark. Delaware 4144. Sea   foods excellently done in all seasons.   Open until 4 a. m. as a good after thea   tre place.   L'AIGLOH &#151; 22 East Ontario. Delaware   1909. French and moderately ritzy.   Music. Private dining rooms if desired.   Teddy Majerus is host. Good.   JULIEN'S&#151; 1009 North Rush. Delaware   4341. Though Papa Julien is in heaven   these three months gone, his staff carries   on under Mama Julien's eye &#151; and a dis   cerning eye it is. Tremendous portions   informally served. A show place. Call   for reservation and menu forecast.   SALLY'S&#151; 4650 Sheridan Road. A break   fast place until 7 a. m. or thereabouts   for a gay and interesting night life crowd   from the Wilson Avenue district.   MARINE DINING ROOM&#151; Edgewater   Beach Hotel. Longbeach 6000. Pleas   ant and respectable dancing in view of   the lake to the Edgewater Beach Or   chestra under the direction of Ted Fio-   rito. Nice people. Always cool. Wil   liam Nast is headwaiter.   LAKESHORE DRIVE HOTEL &#151; 181   Lakeshore Drive. Superior 8500. The   heart of the Gold Coast &#151; see page 10 of   this issue describing the hotel's back   yard, Oak Street Beach.   DRAKE HOTEL &#151; Michigan Avenue at   Lakeshore Drive. Superior 2200. Din*   ing and dancing in the new Drake Sum'   mer Garden. Mel Snyder's band. A   nice, young crowd. See, also, page 10.   Peter Ferris is headwaiter.   HOTEL PEARSON&#151; 190 East Pearson.   Superior 8200. A quiet, well-bred, very   competent inn, an excellent place for   Sunday dinner.   SPAHISH DINING ROOM&#151; St. Clair   Hotel. Superior 4660. An adequate   luncheon place within easy walking dis'   tance of the loop and not apt to be   crowded.   CLUB ALABAM&#151; 747 Rush. Delaware   3260. A popular and merry night place   with an open air annex. Negro musi'   cians under Tyler. Entertainers. Gay   people. Gene Harris is headwaiter.   Mildly Adventuresome   STRULEVITZ&#151; 1217 South Sangamon.   Canal 6838. The amiable Elias demon'   strates his art. Orthodox Hebrew calories.   Not on Saturday unless you want salad.   VITTORIA RESTAURANT&#151; 746 Tay   lor. Monroe 6937. Joe Amador does   wonders with Italian dishes in this fra-   grant district. Best bet: Ravoli a la Joe.   GEORGE LEVENT'S&#151; 1469 Calumet Av   enue, Whiting, Ind. A fish and chicken   place boasting a diminutive doorman and   a nasty little band. The fish record:   Seven platters of perch, seven to the   platter, in 30:3 2/5, held by Burton   Browne, unattached, 1928.   MARSELLIO'S&#151; 1307 South Wabash. The   Signor Marsellio's fish and steak offer   ings are worth a bout by any experi'   enced table warrior.   BON VIVANT&#151; 4367 Lake Park Avenue.   Oakland 0793. French and cosy, this   parlor dispenses a memorable meal and   vends salad dressing.   ALEXANDRIA RESTAURANT &#151; 445   North Clark. Delaware 2389. Greek   dishes in the best Hellenic tradition. Be   sure to order green onions with the   roast lamb.   CAPOLA RESTAURANT&#151; 5232 Lake   Park Ave. Hyde Park 4646. Substan   tial Italian eating, dancing to a victrola.   Personal: If the fat gentleman who   yearned so loudly for wine from Booth 4   will communicate with this office he will   learn something to his advantage.       CHICAGOAN   MANY persons of temperate habits, who can take their   politics or leave it, are becoming progressively more   annoyed over the growing proportions and intensity   of this movement intended to hang a "Closed for the Day"   sign on the golf courses on Election Day.   The arguments of the proponents of this movement are   plain enough and within certain limitations are convincing   enough. It is argued that regardless of the state of the   weather or the condition of a man's game, he should make   it a point to call in on his polling place on national election   day. There seems, also, to be some reference to the rights   and responsibilities of citizenship.   But we wonder whether the seriousness of this situation   is fully appreciated by the political groups which are lend'   ing their approval to this movement. . . . When a man has   become able to convince himself of the healthy effect of   absence from the office upon his business, and has been   able to effect arrangements to preserve some degree of   domestic tranquillity in his home while golfing duties are   being attended to, it seems to us that any political agency   which has the temerity to attempt to interfere with affairs   so ordered is risking a modicum of serious and unfavorable   consequences.   It is not at all improbable that sufficient clamor and push   may be put behind this movement to close the golf courses   on Election Day as to obtain widespread results. But the   political parties in linking up with this movement should   exert the greatest possible caution and either party, under   all circumstances, should smilingly give full and complete   credit for all results obtained to its adversary, because it   is a practical certainty that every journeyman golfer who   is in this way kept from the links on the first Tuesday of   next November will use the interval of enforced retirement   to cast his vote in a fine spirit of revenge.   ?   A WALK about downtown Chicago, over the Bridge at   North Michigan Avenue, for instance, causes the   thought to intrude into one's consciousness that the   Chicago Plan Commission ought somehow to be equipped   with certain police powers which would enable it to counsel   with, if not dictate to, building owners. Taste in architec   ture, as well as in all things else, is a variable factor, but   after all there are some standards.   ?   PRIZERING authorities are hailing the retirement of   Mr. James Joseph Tunney with the greatest satisfaction.   Mr. Tunney during his occupancy of the highest office   within the gift of the prisering had done too great violence   to its memorable traditions of rowdyism, brutality and plain   and fancy larceny. The gaudy mantle of his predecessors   had not rested comfortably upon his shoulders. He was   so decidedly out of step with many of the established prac   tices of the business of pugilism that he was rapidly bringing   it to a point where it would no longer be a business at all.   When the record of the prisering is written Mr. Tunney 's   tenure of the title will probably be passed over lightly as   an unaccountable post-war phenomenon, with the less said   the better. The way is now open for Mr. Tex Rickard to   resume with more congenial spirits the task of conducting   the business of pugilism in a manner to which it has been   more accustomed.   ?   AT one time yachtsmen along the Atlantic seaboard in'   dulged themselves in references to their fellow sports'   men on Lake Michigan as "fresh water" sailors and   the reference was intended as the absolute nadir in com'   pliment. But latterly the traditions and the practices of the   annual race to Mackinac have come to be known and under   stood in the yachting councils of the East and a decided   transformation of attitude has been brought about.   The Mackinac race, as a test of men and craft, ranks   honorably with the highest pursuits of sailing laurels any   where on this continent. In the opinion of many experts   it does not even yield to the leading ocean races because in   these races standards of seaworthiness of craft are imposed   which have no play in the Lake Michigan event.   It is a pleasing thought to know that the crews which   distinguish themselves in this race, which booms across the   starting line at Chicago's front door, are capable of challeng'   ing the best efforts of sailormen everywhere on the fresh or   the briny.   ?   THE proposal is made that Chicago's motto, "I will,"   be re-phrased and committed to the form of, "The   Hell I Won't." It may be argued that this suggested   form might be interpreted as needlessly combative and, again,   some may see in it an unnecessary slip from polite usage.   But in consideration of the various obstacles that are grow   ing, or being deliberately placed in the way of getting cer'   tain necessary things done, it seems to us that the decidedly   affirmative connotation is just what is wanted and as far   as the loss of the puritan vote is concerned, that might be   won back in some other way.   We hear, for instance, many timorous wonderings about   the World's Fair &#151; whether it can be done and how. Even   certain sections of the newspaper press seem to have become   gripped with a sudden apprehension. The "I Will" spirit   seems to have become diluted to a solution of, "I'd Like To   &#151;But."   Think it over &#151; "Chicago &#151; The Hell I Won't."   ?   THE Link Bridge is having another facial. Industrious   artisans have been driving long spikes into the rubber   tiles, achieving a smooth and glistening surface and   perpetuating the slide'way which is a guarantee of an in'   variable thrill to the passing motorist in inclement weather.   And meanwhile the efforts of these busy artisans provide   a public function for Chicago, the Summer Resort, for the   lounging throngs who give the work as it progresses their   careful scrutiny.   &#151; Martin J. Quigley.       TI4E CHICAGOAN   Intimate Chicago Views   Prohibition Enforcement Contingent D Arrives to Check U£ on Contingent C's Surveil   ance of Contingent B's Inspection of Contingent As Scrutiny   of a Patently Suspicious Citizen       TI4EG4ICAGQAN   "All the Sad Young Men tr   A Classification &#151; in Three Parts &#151; of the Town s Social Males   By JAMES WEBER LINN   MY young friend Arthur Meeker   Junior, who not long ago wrote   an article for The Chicagoan classi'   fying the debutantes of the city, is   abundantly understanding of women,   and his chosen field may therefore   safely be left to his cultivation. Is it   not time, however, that some similar   classification should be made of our   social youthful males? One thing is   sure. They are far more important   than the debutantes. Fortunately   also, there are more of them. If there   were not, the silk'covered chrysalises   which we call "debutantes" would   come out of the family cocoons into a   very gloomy atmosphere indeed, and   their little lives would end in an hour   instead of continuing, as at present, all   night and every night for two months.   The number of these social males of   importance in Chicago who are not   college men may be calculated on your   thumbs. Not all, it is true, are college   graduates. But they have all tried their   social wings on some campus or other.   For social purposes, there are among   Chicagoans only four colleges. Three   of them are Harvard, Yale, and Prince   ton. The fourth is what you please;   you may even pick, if you like, from   institutions west of the Alleghenies,   though you are safer if, including New   England and the South, you omit the   Mississippi Valley. A few of these   boys are interested in the arts after a   fashion, but most of them have been   to Yale, and, longo intervallo, Prince   ton.   They are all in offices of one of   three kinds &#151; brokers, lawyers, and real'   estaters. One very rare specimen is. a   doctor, who is, I believe, a graduate of   the University of Illinois; and now and   then you find an architect, or even a   potential (presumably) writer. Dur'   ing the season they sleep three hours   a night, and not infrequently on Sun'   day. Luckily, from the social point of   view, theirs is strictly a seasonal occu   pation. They have nine months in the   year to recuperate and select their   fathers-in-law.   SOME of them &#151; say one- fourth &#151;   were born here; which is to say   they belong to "old Chicago families."   ttwwwwwwisitfWaraaHn^   'A lad from Williams or Dartmouth, the University of Minnesota or Vanderbilt, must, as a rule, send flowers'       8 TUE CHICAGOAN   it now and then, and the married   women, the mothers of the debutantes,   beat them almost always. Nobody   minds who wins, anyway. Boys of   their own type 'round Boston, and in'   deed in the East generally, hammer the   ball about the courts like professionals,   but not our lads. All of them can   ride horseback, and a few do; but they   leave polo to their elders, to army   officers, and to the chosen people.   THE other three-fourths of our   social young men have come here,   mostly from the East and South. With   them, to get "on the lists" is part of   the job. It is not a difficult part. Two   introductions, and the thing is done. A   few of this larger group, a very few,   "crash" parties occasionally, but none   of them got their start that way. They   are too wise. Party-crashing is inso'   lence, and the lads of this larger group   leave insolence to the pioneers.   If they are eligible to the H-Y-P &#151;   and no degree is necessary for such   eligibility &#151; they do not need to worry.   'SHH &#151; we're going on the air now"   'On the AIR!"   Those belonging to this group are   singularly peripatetic in their jobs.   Drop into almost any building along   La Salle street, or North Michigan   avenue, and you will find one or two   of them. Wait three months, drop in   again, and you will again find them,   but in different buildings. They have   not changed their businesses &#151; merely   their firms. It is amasing how few of   them are working for their fathers.   This is because, as a rule, their fathers   are successful men of business.   They all work, however. We have   in Chicago no male leisure class, except   on Saturday afternoons. Nearly all of   this group, the "old Chicago" group,   carry canes when they go out in the   evening. You can tell them apart by   the difference in these canes; and as   they grow a little older, they come to   differ in other small ways. From the   H'Y'P they graduate to the Racquet   and then to the Chicago Club; a num   ber of them, out of deference to tra'   dition, have joined or are in process   of joining the University Club, also,   but this tradition is rapidly dying out.   There is so much new wine in that old   bottle now that the taste is changing   altogether.   All of this group have their own   cars, and most of them have boats.   They do not care for golf, and they   must have some recreation in the sum'   mer time. If they play any game, it is   likely to be tennis. Not since the days   of the Wrenn brothers has any one of   them played good tennis, however.   Theirs is the houseparty brand, casual   and agreeable. The girls beat them at       TI4ECI4ICAGOAN 9   Such a membership practically carries   its own introduction. It must be re   membered however that on a salary of   less than forty dollars a week, club   membership even in the H-Y-P seems   expensive. A lad from Williams or   Dartmouth, the University of Minne   sota or Vanderbilt, will find the game   even more costly. He must, as a rule,   occasionally send flowers. A Chicago   boy who has attended the University of   Chicago or Northwestern might as well   give up hope. He is, to paraphrase   Henry W. Grady, a Puritan among   Cavaliers.   They are pretty nice lads, as a rule,   these newcomers. They play the game   according to the rules. They take long   chances, often, of getting "stuck," be'   cause they know it is part of their duty.   You see few of them really drunk at   dances, for such drunkenness, like   party crashing, is an insolence, and they   cannot afford insolence. Many a time   they will take a girl out to the movies   in the long off 'season. Some of them,   on account of the comparative crudity   of their bringing'up, even cherish   "ideals of womanhood." Said one to   me once, "Honest to God, sir, I don't   like to see a girl sit with her feet in a   man's lap." And he was not trying to   get a reputation, either; he was express'   ing a manly and honest conviction,   which he was well aware, if it became   known, would do him harm. Their   simplchearted and not discreditable   desire is to establish themselves in busi   ness, and they feel that can best be done   "by obliging the ladies.   And do they oblige the ladies? They   are the warp and woof of "debutante"   society. Without them, every dance   would be a failure. A girl's life in   Chicago, under twenty-five and before   marriage, would not be worth living.   They are the shock troops of society.   Hustlers through the day, when the   office is closed and the last entry made   in the records, they retire to their side-   street rooms, manage a bath by know   ing the customs of the house, array   themselves in clean linen and a tuxedo,   and set forth for their evenings of   doing a good turn. The lucky ones   will rate a dinner' dance. The rest   must eat as they can.   At four or four- thirty a. m., after   faithful service in the stag-line, they   return to brief slumber, "dead to the   world," and by nine a. m. they are   hustling again, often in the service of   the gentlemen whose daughters they   have held clasped so carefully for hours   'Say, listen &#151; Guinevere. In the summer I never come as Launcelot"   the evening before. It is no easy life.   But it makes real men of them.   Socially, anyway.   THERE is of course a small third   group, the Adult Bachelors.   Amazing as it may seem, there are   actually men in Chicago of thirty to   thirtyfive who go to dances. I should   say there were about a dozen of them.   Pitiful figures! They have for the de   butantes the charm of withered apples   which have been kept in an ice'chest.   In the off-season, when they play   about with "the young married set,"   they may not infrequently take on   again something of their old bloom, or   seem to do so. But against the de   butante background, they hang like   pieces of old rope among the decora'   tions. Why do they stick about? No'   body knows. Now and then, however,   one among them actually marries a   debutante. Such a union is as near as   we get in Chicago to what used to be   called in France a mariage de cow   venance. And they have been known   to turn out happily, too. One, in par'   ticular &#151; but rules are only made to be   broken.   It is a strange life, that of the "social   male" in Chicago. As a rule, it lasts   about as long as college. Then the   big wet spot of the wedding festivities,   and after that the life which Robert   Louis Stevenson described as "long and   straight and dusty to the grave." But   that was before he tried it.       10 THE CHICAGOAN   Oak Street Beach   Drawings by Phil Nesbit   The Local Lido   A Calico Frohc 'Neath a Golden Wall   By FRANCIS C. COUGHLIN   SEEN from the north, say at North   Avenue, Oak Street Beach is the   sand margin of a bay walled in by the   splendid double tangents of Lakeshore   Drive.   The drive itself, costly rampart of a   city builded in steel, concrete and glass,   is cool in the blue lake air and im   mensely self-possessed in the white sun.   The beach a humble acreage at its feet,   prodigally &#151; almost unaccountably &#151;   drenched in light and air. For in cities   light and air are rich things to be   graciously worn by the wealthy, not to   be squandered on the clamorous, short-   legged folk who are the poor.   Yet Oak Street Beach is frolic under   the very wall of the Gold Coast. ' The   poor come here from miles west of the   drive, from mean brick and plaster   tenements in the Italian quarter, and   from the dowdy reaches of Clark street   north of the river. The beach is lit   tered, untidy and vulgar; it is also gay   and muscular and loud and sentimental   and crowded. The trampled sand flut   ters with half buried newspapers, some   time wrappings of shapeless bathing   suits and heavy luncheons. People   sprawl on the grass in half dress, whole   family circles with the heads concentric.   The walks move at a hampered, jostled   gait out past the springboards toward   the lake and its fishermen where the   walk borders deep water at the edge   of made land. Bathers are huddled on   the sand; more bathers stand waist deep   in the heaving, sluggish bay water, a   dun colored liquid unlike the sparkling   blue stuff a hundred yards off shore.   Even in the blue stuff there are a few   swimmers. One sees the spider-like   frenzy of the crawl stroke and the crab   like motion of trudgeon some distance   out.   BUT the crawl and trudgeon swim   mers are athletes proficient in ex   ercize; the throngs at Oak Street are   not athletes; they are plain people mo   mentarily glad for their nakedness and   gay in their place in the sun. Beach   life does not center so much on the   beach as on the walks and on the   benches and on the worn grass.   There are a dozen focal points along   the walk with its three steps down to'   ward the lake and the wider promc   nade, to which are affixed the spring   boards. Bathers sit hip to hip on these   steps, and any trifling happening draws   a ring of observers. Music, for instance   &#151; a youth with a ukulele &#151; is a whole   free circus. A dozen volunteer singers   contribute close harmony, their arms   encircling each other's shoulders, male   or female shoulders, what matter? It   is not through close-packed singing to   a ukulele that virtue is attacked, at   least not among the ingenuous poor.   Besides, if virtue is assailed, there are   epithets one can shriek at the traducer;   the crowd will laugh at his discomfiture.   There are ball sports, each game in   its separate circle. Huge beach balls   tossed between laughing young ladies   conscious of their fetching awkward   ness. Little hard pellets stingingly       TI4E CHICAGOAN .11   thrown by heavy shouldered males.   And the ancient Italian hand ball modi'   fled by bouncing the ball against the   concrete walk for lack of a wall.   AND tag, a dozen varieties of tag,   with yelling pursuers and a nim-   ble quarry a'squirm through the crowd.   And roundly cursed, too, by sober bath   ers unwittingly jostled or stepped on.   And flirtations, dozens of these also,   mostly carried on by word of mouth   for all to hear; the girls firm-limbed,   dark and little. Immensely scornful   of a too gangling youth.   And promenades, the high-heeled   stalk of beach belles, naked-legged or in   tight sailor breeches, usually two and   two, passing with the fawn-like step of   a young girl, always disturbingly femi   nine. Or the bantam swagger of young   bucks, a cocky trouble-seeking walk.   Or the shamble of older and fatter men,   like the roll of an old primate just down   from the trees and longing for a com   fortable branch to his toes and a ripe   banana.   And indulgent mothers of children   in formless bathing suits unheeding of   the screams and bickerings of their off   springs, now and then chucking a bit   of bread into the mouth of a wailing   bambino. Placid and bulky and com   forting.   And beach guards, burned Indian   red, with incongruously blonde hair and   ferocious blue eyes; a favored race of   the young girls, they wear their aura   modestly. Now and then they even   condescend to swim a little.   And fathers of families, thick, sturdy   men &#151; men of gravity and substance.   Given to long starings out over the lake   and great silences.   And, finally, an occasional couple   from the Gold Coast, or at least from   its gilt fringes, aloof, slender, graceful   &#151; but somehow, pale skinned and   anaemic in the jostle.   EVEN more than mouth-organs,   phonographs and an occasional   concertina, the diving boards draw at   tention. Here the indefatigable Italian   diver plies his art. He approaches the   spring board. He measures off a short   stride to its tip. He puffs in prepara   tion. Runs. Bounces. And comes   what every country boy jeers as a belly   buster. Time and again he does a belly   buster. Now and then, by way of   variation, he does a back buster. As a   horizontal diver he is without peer in   the world. He vigorously maintains   his supremacy.   Around the slow turn where Michi   gan edges away from the boulevard and   strikes south for Naval pier, a different   water fauna whoops and flourishes.   The hot dog man appears; he becomes   a sailorly figure in deference to his en   vironment. Bathers are rigorously for   bidden the lawns &#151; a pair of Lincoln   Park coppers stand guard over the   grass&#151; and in their place fully clothed   couples are at ease in the dubious shade.   Fishermen, patient and amorphous,   tend their lures for tiny, bloodless lake   perch, now and then hooked to the   lively concern of passing bathers.   Hardy swimmers, great barrel-chested   youths and valkyr-limbed maidens   stride by, seeking out the eight foot   water to the south where an amateur   dare not paddle. These people scorn   soft sand and recline, puffing hugely,   on hard concrete after a threshing swim   in the waves. Blood brothers, they, to   the scorched clan a bit further south   which inhabits the walk clad only in   &#132;»-"".' :   trunks and is mahogany from the waist   up; a clan which has for its totem a   huge sea-lion of a swimmer who snorts   and gurgles and flails the water out of   abounding vitality.   AS against the Italian family of   which children swim and parents   look on, the indigenous family appears   fifty yards north of Superior street.   These parents swim; their children are   amphibious as frogs. Indeed, every   bather is a swimmer on the Lakeshore   Drive walk. There is small space for   lolling and no grass. Directly behind   the concrete is a cinder bridle path   where smart horsemen spank by at the   trot, and next to that a swift boulevard   perilous with automobiles. But spartan   as the walk is, there is music. And   now and then, vigorously, flirtation.   And always the proletarian brawn.   Late in the evening Oak Street en   joys its moment. The lake grows calm.   The uneasy crowd stirs but little. Per   haps a paring of moon appears. And   there is a dim light from the boulevard   and the huge wall of the city. Then   even jazz records become less strident   and clustered singers try sentimental   tunes to an occasional ukulele. The   Lincoln to Jackson Park excursion   launch, brilliantly lighted, moves si'   lently across an indefinite horizon of   blue lake and blue sky, the tinsel barge   to a cut-price Avalon. Along the arc   of beach, waves flutter and break with   the low hiss of escaping steam. Couples   sit closer together, grateful for the dark,   flushed and ruffled by the night wind.   And half dried bathers hug the warm   stone, close laid to the easeful, turning   world.       12 THE CHICAGOAN   The Chicagoan, in Further Recognition of Its Civic Responsibilities,   Presents to the World Fair Committee Another Poster Design       THE CHICAGOAN 13   The Original Gold Coast   A Mature Consideration of Old Prairie Avenue &#151; //   By ARTHUR BISSELL   PRAIRIE AVENUE society was   extremely horsey &#151; and horsey be   cause in the 80's the horse was the   only means of individual transportation.   One of my earliest recollections is the   daily flight of P. D. Armour to his   offices. The Armours lived a few doors   from my home, and promptly at 7   each morning, P. D.'s famous trotters   slapped down the boulevard at a   lightning three-minutes-a-mile gait. At   6 p. m. the trotters were back at   the same speed. Then, after dinner,   P. D. walked the street in company   with the night watchman, or some   friend &#151; and so to bed by 9 o'clock.   Marshall Field, who always drove   himself in pleasant weather, wheeled a   dog cart behind a beautiful pair of   horses. His stables were in charge of   an English coachman; his carefully-   chosen animals the envy and pride of   Old Prairie. George M. Pullman fav   ored a coupe or a brougham; two col   ored men in livery on the box; two   horsepower at the traces.   Week-day mornings the street glit   tered with horses and carriages. Week   day evenings broughams and victorias   brought other magnates to their white   stone steps in time for dinner &#151; at 6:30   and on the dot. Sunday, of course,   was an equestrian parade. The morn   ing taken up by church going. The   afternoon given over to informal visit   ing. Mrs. H. O. Stone, Mrs. John M.   Clark, Mrs. Arthur Caton, Mrs. Au   gustus Eddy and many others held open   house on the sabbath. Four o'clock,   and G. M. Pullman, N. K. Fairbank,   Marshall Field, J. W. Doane, plus   others made their weekly calls.   WE younger people, the very,   very young set in the 80's, had   our calls, too. Young Marshall Field,   Jr., was a bosom friend. On occasions   when his parents were away, I used to   stay with him during their absence,   when young Marshall, his sister Ethel   (now Lady Beatty) and I held delight   ful rough house in the great Field   home. Marshall and I hunted occasion   ally on my father's farm, now part of   Samuel Insull's estate, where wild   pigeons, prairie chicken and plover   were plentiful.   There were, too, the high, dark do   ings of the Prairie Avenue Gang, a   bold confraternity of young cut-throats   including the two Pullman boys, Wally   and Elbridge Keith, Wesley Doane,   Barry Sears, Walter Gray, Will Jones,   Charlie Walker, Phil. Armour, Jr.,   Marshall Field, the Hamill brothers,   and myself. To be sure our recreations   were tame enough: baseball, picnics,   and, later, Friday night suppers and.   theatre parties. Our picnics were held   at "lone Place," a vacant tract owned   by H. O. Stone, leagues and leagues to   the south &#151; in fact near 42nd and Grand   Blvd. It was wild, fearsome, on the   pale of civilization. To make matters   more delightfully dreadful, picnic ex   peditions were undertaken in a McAvoy   brewery wagon, kindly lent by Mr.   McAvoy &#151; and to the horror of some   of our parents who considered any con'   tact with the demon rum demoralizing.   The McAvoy family were socially pop'   ¦«¦&amp;   DICHADP   ^LF\ryi   'Pity, ain't it, Blanch? I spoze he didn't have no sex appeal'       14 THE CHICAGOAN   "And now, Girls &#151; you've been so perfectly darling &#151; I'll read you one of my   own poems"   ular, but then the family brewery was   at 23 rd and South Park Avenue and   the making of beer was thought to be   extremely immoral by some Old Prairie   families.   Baseball, however, was righteous   enough, and the gang made up the   Prairie Avenue Club. I was catcher;   in that day we took 'em off the bat   without masks or chest protectors.   Mr. Field abetted us desperadoes in   winter by maintaining a skating pond   just north of his residence, later the   site of the Norman B. Ream home.   The pond was available for several sea'   sons. A private theatre on the top   floor of the Pullman house invited ama   teur effort. Considerably to our   chagrin, we were taught deportment   and dancing at Bournique's Academy   every Wednesday and Saturday after   noon. Mr. and Mrs. Bournique, as   sisted by their two sons, Eugene and   Alvar, smoothed our gangster edges   very laudably. The Bourniques were   uniquely popular. The boys and their   sister led most the private cotillions   given by the younger set. And no   social event was quite right unless the   paper announced: "Kinsley served   and Johnny Hand furnished the music."   Thus we grew up,   THE first, and possibly the biggest,   thrill of my own social life came   with an invitation to attend the Mikado   Ball given by Mrs. Marshall Field.   My first Ball! Until now my enter   tainment had been at trivial little boy   and girl dances, but the Field's Mikado   Ball was an event.   It marked an epoch. Anxious moth   ers of daughters spent weeks in secur   ing the correct Japanese costumes for   the epoch. The expense was rumored   with head'shakings and duckings by   fathers of the same daughters. The   Field home had been done over into a   Japanese garden; special scenic effects   were introduced &#151; up to that time it   was perhaps the most elaborate enter'   tainment yet seen in Chicago. I can'   not recall that I shone inordinately at   the gathering.   The H. O. Stone house at 21st and   Prairie was the meeting place of an in   teresting set. Mrs. Stone entertained   literary and musical people. A hand   some, vivacious woman, she once told   my mother that "trouble didn't agree   with her, so she never had any." She   had a music room built over the stable.   The house she furnished in imported   Empire furniture. And she gave a re   ception in honor of Oscar Wilde. The   Prairie Avenue Gang attended that re   ception in war paint. It jeered at the   anaemic young man in flowing hair   and a green carnation as he descended   the long flight of white stone steps and   picked his way to a waiting carriage.   Nevertheless, the music room continued   to be a bright focal point of taste and   talent.   SOME years later I was instrumental   in organizing a series of Thursday   morning recitals which were given at   Hooley's theatre for the benefit of the   Visiting Nurse Association. The pa   trons were Mrs. Arthur Caton, Mrs.   Franklin Mac Veagh, Mrs. Frank S.   Gorton, Mrs. John M. Clark, Mrs. Pot   ter Palmer and Mrs. Theodore Thomas.   These recitals were very much the   vogue for several seasons. My reason   for referring to them is to recall an   amusing incident:   Mme. Nordica, then in her prime,   consented to sing at one of the recitals   appearing with Henri Marteau, a   French violinist much feted by Chicago   society. The patronesses, impressed   with Mme. Nordica's generosity, dc   cided to call on Madame and convey   their thanks in person. Accordingly I   arranged with several of them to take   tea in her suite at the Congress. We   arrived to find Mme. Nordica had been   detained, but her maid asked us to wait,   saying that she was expected any min   ute. We waited. Nordica appeared and   the call went famously until out from   behind a sofa in one corner of the room   popped Jean de Reszke while another   sofa produced Edward de Reszke. The       THECWICAGOAN 15   two had also had an appointment a lit   tle earlier. Expecting to startle Madame,   they hid themselves when we appeared   thinking it was she. Caught, they   stood it as long as possible but finally   were forced up for air. The party   broke up in considerable confusion.   Nordica, in an extremely extempore ex   planation, pointed out that she had a   rehearsal appointment with the two   famous brothers de Reszke. The Con   gress tea became a standard anecdote   on Old Prairie.   [Note: Another article by Mr. Bissell   will be published in an early issue of The   Chicagoan.]   H. L. Mencken   His Mark   THE myth has gone far enough.   Hassenpfeffers who maintain such   a thesis would be just as much justified,   the laws of logic being what they are,   to maintain that Robert Louis Steven   son was a pirate because he wrote about   Long John Silver, that New York is   a village because there are sheep graZ'   ing in Central Park, that all Marines   are privy to the works of Fletcher,   Marlowe, Lely, Beaumont, and Kyd be   cause Gene Tunney dissertates on A   Winter's Tale to the esteemed Billy   Phelp's august seniors at New Haven,   that anyone who can recite The Face   on the Barroom Floor dramatically is   cut out for the stage, that a man must   be in the pink of health because he   srJorts a coat of tan acquired from six   day's stay in the Florida mud flats, and   that anyone from Boston will blush if   you tell him the story about the travel   ing salesman.   That Flink is unacquainted with the   works of Spengler, Schnitzler and   Hauptmann is obvious on the face of   it. That he couldn't distinguish a bot   tle of Sauterne '82 from last week's   crop of Hoboken juniper water is   equally apparent. Nor is it improbable   that to him Veronese is an affliction of   the arteries, Mozart a city in North   Dakota and Brunelischi a patent hair'   waving process. He is in short vulgar,   ignorant, plebian, chauvinistic, a cad,   a dolt, a nincompoop, a half'wit, an   idiot.   And that, my esteemed readers, is   my answer to the upstart Herman   Flink, who had the temerity to sug'   gest to his teacher in the otherwise no   doubt admirably conducted third grade   of the Hacksville Grammar school that   two times four equals seven.   &#151; PARKE CUMMINGS.   The Home Movie Movement   ///. A Sample Scenario   By GENE MARKEY   IN case, gentle reader, you have just   returned from Madrid or Mombasi,   and have been out of touch with   civilization and The Chicagoan, this   is the fourteenth of a seemingly endless   series of articles on the making of home   movies. Of course, certain skeptics   have raised the objection that there are   some things that cannot be made in   the home so well as elsewhere, such as   beer and moving-pictures. Of these   two home-grown products, movies are   the easier to make. Everywhere,   throughout the length as well as the   breadth of the United States &#151; as far   as the eye can reach &#151; people are en   gaged in taking movies right in their   own homes. No movement since the   last influenza epidemic has swept the   country so sweepingly.   The Chicagoan, with characteristic   Zeal for seeking the truth, has gone   into the subject pretty thoroughly; and   in the foregoing twenty articles I have   discussed home movies, both pro and   con &#151; though in many cases they are   merely semi-pro. I have found that   movies can be made at home. They   can't always be shown, but they can   be made.   It is to be understood, of course, that   you must have a moving-picture cam   era, to start with. Ordinary cameras   have not proved successful in the tak   ing of moving-pictures. If you want   satisfactory results in your movies, you   should have a movie camera.   THERE is only one other rule to be   observed: do not "take" pictures   in the rain &#151; unless you are looking for   German art effects. In the following   -«^«*%#w*^   Yessir, best orchestra in town, I say &#151; best orchestra in town'       16 THE CHICAGOAN   sample scenario, professional terms   such as "long-shot," "Semi close-   up," etc., are used. Don't let these   little technicalities confuse you.   "O UT&#151; sparrow&#151; 0 UT!"   Pay no attention to them. Go right   ahead and make the picture in your   own way. This is a domestic comedy.   TITLE: A PIKCH IN THE PALTRY   Length : Any length.   Cast: Mr. ]ones   Mrs. Jones   The Pretty Maid   Young Jones, age seven   A Dog   Several other characters   Locations : Interiors &#151; anybody's.   Costumes: Whatever you have.   Properties: Several Cooking Utensils   A Dozen Eggs   A Bunch of Bananas   Six Custard Pies   Title 1 : Dinner at the Jones!   Scene 1. (Long shot.) The Jones'   dining-room, with Mr., Mrs. and   Young Jones at the table. The only   one smiling is the Dog, sitting by   Young J.   Scene 2. (Close-up.) Mrs. J. glares   at Mr. J.   Scene 3. (Close-up) Mr. J. does   likewise at Mrs. J.   Scene 4. (Close-up.) Young J.   flings a turkey leg to the dog.   Scene 5. (Close-up.) The dog drops   it, and sitting up, nudges young   Jones.   Title 2 : I Said I Wanted a Wing!   Scene 6. (Semi close-up.) Young J.   apologizes to the dog and, reaching   across the table, takes a wing off his   mother's plate and gives it to the dog.   Scene 7. (Close-up.) Mrs. J. frowns   sternly at Young J.   Title 3 : How Often Have I Told You   T^ot to Reach? If You Must Reach,   Why Don't You Annoy Tour   Father?   Scene 8. (Long shot.) The Pretty   Maid comes in through a swinging   door from the pantry.   Scene 9. (Close-up.) The Pretty   Maid's face, etc. (Plenty of etc.)   Scene 10. (Close-up.) Mr. J. gives   the Pretty Maid the eye.   Scene 11. (Close-up.) Mrs. J. gives   Mr. J. the eye.   Scene 12. (Long shot.) The Pretty   Maid exits.   Scene 13. (Close-up.) Mr. J. puts   down his napkin, and pushes back   his chair.   Title 4: Excuse me, darling, I forgot   something.   Scene 14. (Semi long shot.) Mr. J.   gets up and goes out through the   pantry door.   Scene 15. (Semi long shot.) The dog   goes over and sniffs at the pantry   door.   Scene 16. (Close-up.) The dog   pushes open the pantry door, takes   a look and goes mad.   Scene 17. (Semi long shot.) Young J.   gets up and goes over to take a peek   through the pantry door.   Scene 18. (Close-up.) Mrs. J.   watches the dog.   Title 5: That Dog Is Acting Very   Peculiarly!   Scene 19. (Close-up.) Young J.   beaming face.   Title 6: So is Papa!   Scene 20. (Semi long shot.) Mrs. J.   jumps up from the table.   Title 7 : I've Got a Rough Idea What   He's Doing!   Scene 21. (Semi long shot.) Mrs.   J. marches militantly out into the   pantry.   Scene 22. (Long shot.) Mr. J. in the   pantry, kissing the Pretty Maid.   Scene 23. (Semi long shot.) Ditto.   Scene 24. (Semi Close-up.) Ditto.   Scene 25. (Close-up.) Ditto.   Scene 26. (Long shot.) Mrs. J. sees   them, halts and rolls up her sleeves.   Scene 27. (Close-up.) Mrs. J. look   ing very much annoyed about some   thing.   Title 8: Why, You Big Bum!   Scene 28. (Close-up.) Mr. J. dis   covers the bad news.   Title 9: Oh, Is That You, Dear?   Scene 29. (Semi long shot.) Mrs.   J. goes into action. Seizes a custard   pie.   Scene 30. (Long shot.) Mr. J. get   ting socked with a custard pie.   Scene 31. (Long shot.) The Pretty   Maid getting socked with a custard   pie.   Scene 32. (Long shot.) Mr. J.^and   the Pretty Maid alternately receiv   ing a custard pie. Then two more   custard pies. Each time they are hit,   Mr. J. and the Pretty Maid jump up   and down.   Scene 33. (Close-up.) Mrs. J. seiz   ing a bunch of bananas.   Scene 34. (Long shot.) Mr. J. and   the Pretty Maid being showered   with bananas, eggs and cooking-   utensils.   Scene 35. (Long shot.) Mr. J. fol   lowed by the Pretty Maid, each   jumping up and down as they are hit       THE CHICAGOAN 17   with various household articles, dive   out the fourteenth story window.   Scene 36. (Semi close-up.) Mrs. J.   jumps after them.   Scene 37. (Semi close-up.) Young J.,   carrying his dog, opens an umbrella   and jumps.   Scene 38. (Semi close-up.) Mr. J.   and the Pretty Maid landing in a   trough of bricklayer's plaster.   Scene 39. (Semi close-up.) Mrs. J.   landing on top of them. They mix.   Scene 40. (Semi close-up.) Young J.   and his dog landing comfortably in a   Simons Bed (adv.) which has been   put out for an airing.   Scene 41. (Long shot.) Mr. J. and   the Pretty Maid running up the   street, covered with plaster, Mrs. J.   following.   Scene 42. (Long shot.) Young J.,   the dog, a policeman, an old Italian,   a milkman, a colored preacher and a   fat woman join in the chase.   Scene 43. (Long shot.) The chase   proceeding for thirty-eight blocks,   with the addition of a sailor, a fruit-   vender, a French count, a cowboy,   an Indian, a taxi-driver and six other   policemen.   Scene 44. (Long shot.) The chase   knocks over a nurse and a baby-   carriage.   Scene 45. (Close-up.) The baby   looks up, somewhat perturbed.   Title 10: Why the Hell Don't You   Loo\ Where You're Going!   Scene 47. (Long shot.) The chase   continues for several reels, with the   nurse and the baby bringing up the   rear. All fall in a river, swim across   and continue the chase.   Scene 48. (Semi long shot.) A hand   some ice man comes by in his ice-   wagon, leans out, seizes the Pretty   Maid and puts her on the seat by   him, and they drive off at a gallop.   Scene 49. (Semi close-up.) Every   body else jumping up and down,   shaking their fists.   Scene 50. (Close-up.) The pretty   Maid in the ice-man's arms, look   ing up into his eyes.   Title 11: I J^ever Li\ed Those Frigi-   daire Machines, Anyway!   Scene 51. (Semi close-up.) Mr. and   Mrs. J. walking hand in hand in a   beautiful garden.   Title 12: Came the Dawn.   Scene 52. (Close-up.) Young J. and   the dog, sitting up, each eating a   custard pie, and smiling into the   camera. Fadeout.   Title 13: THE EHD.   A Chicagoan in Geneva   Perceives a Certain Local Parallel   By SAMUEL PUTNAM   THE League of Nations is a most   exciting institution. I always said   so. So is Boston's Back Bay, and Chest'   nut Street, Philadelphia, and the   Young Men's Bible Class of the First   Presbyterian Church, Evanston. Some'   thing, possibly, depends upon one's   definition of excitement.   But then, perhaps, one really   shouldn't judge the League of Nations   by its capital. But how can one help   judging the League by Geneva; for if   Geneva isn't the League, then what is   it? Despite Mr. Julius Caesar's re   marks, under date of 58 B. C, I can   perceive no excuse, otherwise, for its   being. Any more than I can see an   excuse for Oak Park &#151;   And if Geneva is the League of Na'   tions, then the League of Nations must   be Geneva, and &#151; heaven help the na'   tions!   Being naturally a confiding sort of   person, and one who believes all he   reads in the papers (having worked on   them for a stretch of some ten years),   my own ideas of the League had been   shaped, largely, by Mr. Duncan   Clarke's glowing pen in the editorial   columns of the Chicago Evening Post &#151;   prompted, of course, by Mr. John C.   Shaffer. Judging by my friend Mr.   Clarke's enthusiasm, I had naively as'   sumed that the League must stand for   Free Beers for Everybody and a season   ticket to the Sox Park for every mother   of seven. Well, the League, my dear   townsmen &#151; following the geometrical   'What a drama by Eugene O'Neill my life would make'       18 TWE CHICAGOAN   'What is your full name?'   'Ramshay"   principle with which we have started,   of "two things equal to a third thing"   &#151; stands for nothing of the sort. What   it does stand for, so far as I am en-   abled to make out, after a rainy and   desolate afternoon in this capital, is a   Gideon Bible in every room and a Cul'   tured Environment for All.   A Gideon Bible &#151; who said a Bible?   At the head of my bed, facing me as   I set down these bitter reflections, is   a specially built shelf containing, not   one, but three Bibles! &#151; one in French,   one in German and one in English. Of   course, in a manner, it makes one feel   as though one were back in the dear   old Sherman House, but this is going   the Sherman House or the LaSalle one   better &#151; rather, two better!   AND this is not enough. On my   dressing table is a tract. It is in   German, but my German is good   enough to tell me that a tract it is &#151;   the legend at the top of the front cover   is sufficient: "Bitte mitnehmen und   weitergeben." The fact that, a Latin   by temperament, I have always stead'   fastly refused to read German is the   only thing, possibly, that saves me from   being saved.   Sauntering across my room to ponder   my next denunciatory paragraph, my   eye falls upon the hotel regulations of   this "Christliches Hospiz." I translate   for you:   "Travellers are \indly requested, for   the benefit of the hotel- employes, to   avoid causing useless wor\ on Sundays   and on holidays."   There is also an announcement to   the effect that a "family service" is   held every evening in the hotel's salon.   Under such conditions, one inevitably   starts thinking of suicide or a pension   or some pleasant alternative like that.   I choose the pension, although pensions   are the one thing I have avoided in my   past continental experience. But that   damnably cheerful canary in the hall,   and the young lady running scales in   the next room, and the suspicious look   which the doorman gives me when he   beholds me lighting an American Luc^y   upon my exit &#151; these serve to tip the   balance, and a pension it is &#151; or I think   it is going to be.   But not so hasty. Let us pick up   the folder put out by the local equival'   ent of the Association of Commerce.   After reading, once more, of the com'   pliment which Mr. Julius Caesar paid   the city, and skipping a reference to   Mt. Blanc's eternal snows, as well as   a section on Geneva as a cultural center,   we come to the pensions. The first an-   nouncement my eye alights upon in-   forms me that "Madame Perez, 4, rue   EmileYung, receives in her family a   few persons desiring a cultivated and   a very comfortable environment. Proxi   mity to the Schools, Quiet Location,   Family Life."   This is a fair sample. Practically   all insist upon that "Proximity to the   Schools" and the "cultivated environ'   ment," not to mention the "situation   tranquille." It all sounds like &#151; oh, so   like! &#151; Orrington avenue, doesn't it?   And then, I recall the fact that both   Mr. Shaffer and Mr. Duncan Clarke   reside in Evanston; and this, somehow,   explains to me the otherwise inexplica   ble phenomenon of the League of Na   tions &#151; at least, it explains why the   League of Nations chose Geneva as a   capital. After all, why did Harvard   choose Boston? It all fits in perfectly,   and ought to make it very easy for any   Chicagoan who wants to know what he   thinks about the League &#151; and who   wouldn't like to have some idea what   he thinks about it? All he has to do   is to take a little elevated ride north   ward.   MOREOVER, Geneva, like Evans-   ton, is nothing if not musical.   "La musique," the near- Association -of -   Commerce-folder again enlightens me,   "est particulierement en honneur d   Geneve." After listening to the young-   lady-in-the-next-room's scales for a good   two hours, I am ready either to be   lieve or to disbelieve that statement.   But here, what's this! The Mesdames   Long, it appears, receive chez elles per   sons desiring to find un interieur gai   et confortable. That confortable one   does not doubt; it would be hard to   find an institution in this birthplace of   Calvinism that did not provide a good,   solid, Protestant brand. But gay (we   will translate literally, this time) &#151;   really GAY? The Dean of Women   ought to look into that. For I am sure   they have one here.   Discovery   Poetique   On sober reflection I can't stop from   saying   You can't write good verse with the   radio playing.   Be it a jazz tune or something much   sweeter,   It always raises the dickens with your   meter.   &#151; P. c       THE CHICAGOAN 19   CI4ICAGOAN/   IF you want to know something of   the qualities of a man, speak to his   valet, they tell you. But "Jack" Pea-   body hasn't a valet, and anyhow this   isn't to be a eulogy, but a few plain   and fancy facts about Chicago's plain   est millionaire. The fact that he has   no valet may prove one thing, or it   may prove another, depending on your   interpretation of a character as unusual   as it is interesting. It certainly doesn't   mean that the gentleman &#151; baptized   Francis Stuyvesant Peabody &#151; is careless   about his clothes or careful about ex   penses.   I should say, rather, that &#151; born   though he was with a butler to polish   the silver spoon he cut his eye teeth   on &#151; valets were not for him . . . they   savored of a sort of self-centeredness,   tinctured with "swank," and Jack Pea-   body is the least swanky person in the   social register. I doubt if he knows   he is in the social register &#151; and I'm   sure he doesn't care a whoop whether   he is or isn't. By birth and tradition   he belongs there, and all the cryptic   signs after his name in the register, in   dicating his clubs (they include the ten   best) are, to him, merely incidental.   Only the Jockey Club at Lincoln Fields   &#151; and that's not listed in the s. r.&#151; is   his pride and his joy, and if he's been   up to the Saddle and Cycle even once   this summer it's because his wife was   giving a party there.   For it just so happens that this man   &#151; still in his early forties, is possessed   of a simplicity &#151; or, if you will, a humil   ity, qualities rarely associated with the   rich and successful&#151; that will not let   him do anything just because it's "the   thing." Not that Jack has always been   the boy he is today. In his college   years he was not above kicking things   over. In the early days of the automo   bile, while he was still an undergradu   ate at Yale, his devilish driving &#151; or that   of a classmate with him at the time &#151;   caused a fatal accident and almost put   him out of school for good. Nor did   he pass up anything there was to drink   &#151; as he does today &#151; not because he   now loves good liquor less, but it   doesn't fit in with his present scheme of   living.   IT is a matter for marvelling among   his old cronies of the early Mays-   "Jack" Peabody   By HELEN S. YOUNG   Stuyvesant Peabody   lake Hunt Days that Jack "never   touches a drop," although his guests   are always given the best there is &#151; if   they want it &#151; while he sips his coca   cola or nibbles a chocolate bar. Nor is   this change in his habits &#151; from a gay   young blade to a man of responsibility   &#151; entirely a result of his recent con   version to Catholicism. Unquestion   ably the sudden death of his father &#151;   whom he loved with almost a hero wor   ship &#151; had a definite sobering effect on   the whole life of the son. And this   devotion to his father &#151; a man of fine   feeling and kindly nature &#151; has brought   about an unusual memorial.   Almost on the spot where Francis S.   Peabody was found dead, thrown from   his horse, on his Hinsdale estate, his   son has built in his memory, and as   a mark of devotion to his patron saint,   the gentle Saint Francis of Assisi, a   magnificent chapel. It is a reproduc   tion of the Portiuncula at Assisi, and   is a perfect gem of beauty &#151; the pride   of the Franciscan Fathers, to whom he   has given the whole Mayslake estate,   where they now conduct their retreats   for working men. A little unusual &#151;   a Catholic memorial to the memory of   a Protestant Episcopal &#151; and beautifully   liberal minded, too.   Not far from the new Franciscan   foundation, the Peabodys have their   Hinsdale home, where they live almost   the year round, although most of their   closer friends chose the more fashion   able Lake Forest. The house isn't much   to look at outside &#151; an oldfashioned red   brick &#151; but once you enter, you know   that here abide many happy things.   The two Peabody boys &#151; "Stuyvey" and   "Pat" &#151; are allowed to have their dogs   indoors and in the lovely panelled li   brary where Charles Sneed Williams'   protrait of the late Mr. Francis Pea   body dominates the room. Here are   books and more books, and some price   less first editions inherited from his   father and added to from time to time   by the present owner. There isn't a   finer collection of early sporting   prints, and especially of the price   less Currier and Ives species,   than that which Jack Peabody   owns, but unless you are inter   ested in them he never brings   them out.   NOR would he ever tell you that   he is constantly taking corre-   spendence courses in bookkeeping, or   auditing, in shorthand, or telephone   operating, in fact, in every corre   spondence school subject, including that   of "mother's helper," his friends say   when they want to tease him. He says   he never got any of those things at   Yale &#151; and it helps him understand the   people who work for him.   And he reads history for diversion,   early, modern, French or Irish, and   there isn't anything he doesn't know   about trade unions, their origin and   their aims. And of course he reads   the racing form, and he knows all about   horses, or how could he be the presi   dent of Lincoln Fields, or how to raise   horses at his stud out Crete way?   You hear people who really don't   know Mr. Peabody say: "They'll   break him if he stays in the racing   game; they'll get his coal yard away   from him, and his ice houses, and his   farms and his shirt." But under that   gentle exterior &#151; that friendly smile &#151;   there is a good business mind, and he   knows what he's about. If racing gets   too expensive, though he loves it, he'll   stop playing with it &#151; just as he'd sell   one of his mines if it didn't pay.       20 THE CHICAGOAN   HE hasn't time to go to Europe &#151;   not even to the Dublin Horse   Show&#151; and he mopes all the time his   wife is on the other side, and wanders   around like a lost soul. And leaves   important board meetings to go and   meet her at the boat when she comes   home. And she who was Anita Healy   &#151;daughter of that early Chicagoan,   Patrick Healy, of Lyon and Healy&#151;   spends half of her allowance, while   she's over, in sending back cables.   Mr. Peabody says he hasn't time to   go to the opera. He even tells that to   his good friend Samuel Insull, although   he subscribes for a box, and lets his   friends use it. I don't know what Mr.   Peabody 's political affiliations are but   something tells me he may vote for Al   Smith. As a descendant of old Peter   Stuyvesant, the "sidewalks of New   York" campaign may interest him from   more than one angle.   There is only one subject just now on   which you can get this fulsomely re   vealed gentleman to discourse with any   degree of enthusiasm for publication:   the World Fair . . . five dollars from   every family . . . industrial revela   tion . . . and that sort of thing. And   he might smile broadly and tell you   something about good old "Greatheart,"   who still has the record for high jump   ing, and who grows fat happily in   green pastures, and is never asked to   work any more.   If you want to keep Mr. Peabody 's   friendship, don't ask him for tips on   the horses, and don't telephone him   about this article. He reads The Chi   cagoan, and he'll read this, and he'll   never speak to me again!   x t r a I I   'Bring candles, James &#151; I'm going to read Dickens"   (By Disassociated Press)   A HORNED TOAD lives 30 years   in a corner stone; a spider lives   11 in a cement arch. A bull frog is   mislayed 22 winters in Oleathe, Kansas;   snake eggs hatch after 60 years in a   post. All these according to press   items. Well, why not? A fertile type   writer is a great aid to longevity. For   instance :   Wah Wah, Mo. &#151; (By Special Cor'   respondent) &#151; Workmen removing the   historic Wah Wah County court   house reputed to be the oldest brick   building west of Webb City, prepara'   tory to the erection of a new hot dog   stand and filling station, were today   surprised to find a live sheriff under the   brick floor of the old lock up. The   floor was put down in 1853 and par   tially torn up by Jesse James in 1867   when the noted outlaw vacated the   county building. Old residents said   James had manifested his annoyance   with this particular sheriff and had evi   dently tossed him under a few bricks   and told him to stay there. Which is   what the officer did. Scientists doubt,   and so on.   Lexington, Ky. &#151; (By Leased Wire)   &#151; A long unsolved mystery of the Civil   war came to light today when Col.   James B. Whoofus of the 387 Indiana   Volunteers, a thirty day regiment, was   found beneath the rear porch of the   historic Butterleigh mansion now being   razed for the erection of a $500,000   war memorial. Col. Whoofus, accord   ing to war department files, disappeared   on an unnamed mission shortly before   a battle on the outskirts of Lexington.   When discovered the gallant Colonel   expressed marked apprehension over   the whereabouts of Gen. Morgan, Con   federate leader of the famous Morgan   raiders. Old residents gave their opin   ion that Col. Whoofus had crawled   under the porch to spy on the Con   federate advance. Historians are du   bious &#151;   San Francisco, Cal. &#151; (By Veritas   Press) &#151; Laborers dismantling the old   Gold Seeker's Rest, a famous saloon   of Argonaut times, were astounded to   hear an incoherent voice issuing from   an unused back room walled off in   1854. A brief search discovered Ralph   Emmerson Throckmorton, Harvard '46,   seemingly none the worse for an im   murement which old residents say can   not have been less than 79 years.       THE CHICAGOAN 21   Throckmorton says he remembers tak   ing a drink at the old bar with a miner   named Kelly about June 15, 1849, and   that thereafter details are vague. A   beautiful new drugstore will replace the   old saloon. Throckmorton asked for a   bromo seltzer. Scientists pointed out &#151;   Bath, England &#151; (By Cable) &#151;   Britain is agog today over the story of   a Pictish gentleman, Mr. Ossian Mc-   Sporran, who was unearthed by city   workers from a venerable Roman ruin   near here. McSporran relates that he   lent one C. Octavius Martius, a legion   ary soldier, the sum of 40 sesterces   which the latter promised to repay at   the gate of a small Roman town near   Bath. McSporran avers that the note   given him by Martius was fraudulent   and that he has waited a reasonable   time for the return of the 12th legion,   to which organization Martius is at   tached. He now fears deliberate fraud.   At a late hour last night McSporran   was attempting to get in touch with the   Crown Solicitor. It is said, however &#151;   Jerusalem, Palestine &#151; (Foreign   Service) &#151; University excavators work   ing on a city mound near here report   the finding of James Teshub, a former   Hittite resident of the ancient capital.   Teshub explained that he was waiting   for his wife, a sister-in-law of Solomon   1, who had asked him to wait near the   public library until she had talked over   Solomon's affaires with her sister.   Ur, Mesopotamia &#151; (By Radio) &#151;   ADAM UNEARTHED HERE TO   DAY. (Unconfirmed.)   Travel   Rubenstein's   Palais de beauty,   The Water Tower,   Slightly sooty,   The Casino,   Rather snooty;   Delaware,   The Pier, the Lake,   And the Davis   And the Drake   With, in Weathered's   Shop, the green   Of a model   By Paquin   Shining forth   To rush the season . . .   Bus's toot   And motor's clamour   All end in   For no good reason   Oak street's legendary   Glamour.   &#151; DOROTHY DOW.   The STAG B   Trying to Review a Revue   By CHARLES COLLINS   THE dullest and flattest writing in   the field of dramatic criticism or   show-reporting is evoked by the so-   called revues. As now standardized,   these opulent entertainments, which are   a highly important phase of the Ameri   can theatre from the box-office point of   view, simply cannot be made interest   ing. Being incoherent, they disorganize   the writer who is bound by the terms   of his contract or his sense of duty to   record them in print. Being nonsense,   they addle the literary brain.   Yet they are events, and so the jour   nalist must give them his attention. He   may have enjoyed the show, and yet   when he reviews it he writhes in that   agony which comes to a craftsman when   he knows he is doing a bad job. Four   revues in a season will almost wreck   him; will cause him to suspect, in dark   introspective moments, that James   Huneker may have approximated the   truth when he cynically declared:   "Once a journalist, always a prosti   tute."   Revues are reviewed most success   fully by satyrs. They should be writ   ten about, as they are watched, with   a leer. If one can get into his style   the mental attitude of a sixty-year-old   pasha sitting in the slave market and   shopping for a fresh covey of odalisques   from the Caucasus, guaranteed virgin,   he will undoubtedly find any revue a   source of juicy, high-colored copy.   There was once a dramatic critic   who painstakingly went through the   dictionary and copied out every ornate   adjective which related to sexual stimu   lation. With this curious glossary in   his pocket, he could cope with any re   vue. His articles sounded like the sec   ret diary of a neurotic school-boy in   the throes of pubescence, but they fitted   his subjects exactly, and were widely   read and applauded. After he had   added to his profligate vocabulary the   phrase, "shining flanks," lifted out of   Swinburne, he became famous. He   could review a revue and make people   read his product. No one else was   shameless enough to compete with him,   and he reigned alone in his lascivious   glory.   ALL of which is an elaborate apology   i for my inability to cover a page   or two with a report of "The Green   wich Village Follies," which came to   the Four Cohans recently. The show   was an oasis in the desert; the only   sign of new life that the Chicago stage   had manifested for six weeks. And   yet, though a refreshing event for a   summer population almost starved of   footlight entertainment, it evokes no   gush of words to the point of my foun   tain pen. It is merely an old story;   just another one of those things.   The girls are pretty; the scenery ex   travagant; the comedians loud. It will   disappoint no one. It is according to   formula.   This "Greenwich Village Follies,"   unlike its predecessors of the same title,   does not concern itself with studio at   mosphere and culturine. There's a rea   son. The title has been taken over by   the firm of Shuberts, wh6 know that       22 THE CHICAGOAN   "A certain Dr. Rockwell," says Charles Collins in an adjacent para   graph, tcwell known in vaudeville and now having his fling in the   revues, is the focus of the mirthmaking." Artist Karson presents Dr.   Rockwell, agile Evelyn Law, blue Blossom Seeley, Benny Fields, the   tuneful Jans and Whalen and &#151; dimly above &#151; figurantes in one of those   revelations sans which no "Greenwich Village Follies" would be village.   the tastes of Broadway are closer to the   American spirit than the poses of   Washington Square. So this revue is   strictly in the Winter Garden manner.   It is as good as the average Winter   Garden revue; and in the departments   of costuming and stage decoration it is,   perhaps, better.   A certain "Dr." Rockwell, well-   known in vaudeville and now having   his first fling in the revues, is the focus   of the mirth-making. He is quite a   fellow &#151; a gabby, homely, brassy little   man with an alert and mischievous   sense of humor. He is a "natural" for   this form of entertainment; there is no   body like him. He seems to have been   educated outside the theatre, and his   sources of humor are unrelated to those   of other vaudeville wags. His bur   lesque on a chiropractor's lecture reveals   medical knowledge. There is a hard   intellectual gleam in his spectacles   which rescues his border-line jests from   indecency. He is a humorous libertine   without a leer.   «r\R." ROCKWELL is so good   Ls that he sustains a cast which is   weak in principals. The others are ob   scurities with the exception of Blossom   Seeley, who misses fire as a jazz-queen.   One Eddie Shubert, unknown to fame,   is good as Otis Skinner would be in   the character of an old hack driver   sentimentalizing over the Broadway of   the past. An acrobat who balances on   the top of a wobbly lamp-post is first-   rate in his specialty; and a pair of   pantomimic dancers, Carlos and Val   eria, are decidedly worth watching.   The singing and dancing girls &#151; Grace   Brinkley, Laura Lee, Florence Misgen   and Evelyn Law &#151; are pleasant enter   tainers. The chorus is a cargo of   beauty richer than the Winter Garden's   custom. It includes a group of young   dancers called the Chester Hale Girls   who deserve enthusiasm.   The program includes burlesques on   two plays which have not been seen   in Chicago &#151; "The Trial of Mary Dug'   gan" and "The Command to Love."   For me these sketches were merely   wasted time, although they will doubt'   less be appreciated by that section of   Chicago's population which does most   of its play-going in New York.   When a revue goes on tour, I am in   favor of its carrying a sketch-writer   who can adapt such scenes to the local   consciousness. If that idea is imprac   tical, I hope that the revue-manufac   turers will decide to put out a new   model containing no burlesques what   ever. These crazy parodies of Broad   way hits are the dull thuds of the re   vues. I recommend especially that   Harold Atteridge, librettist of the   Winter Garden and addicted bur   lesque-cooker, shall be placed on a   princely pension, for long, faithful serv   ice, and retired.   Status Qyo   On the bright fairway   Are men at play,   On recreation bent;   But still they're seen   With solemn mien   And serious intent.   For some must play with women   And some must play for health;   And some &#151; the way they wager,   Would seem to play for wealth.   A few, they say   Still play for play,   But these grow fewer   Every day;   For we're a serious people,   We take our pleasure hard,   The day is lost unless we can   Turn in a winning card.   But still the emerald fairway   Is dotted here and there   With colors gay and sporty,   A landscape passing fair.   &#151; FORREST HARBOUR.       THE CHICAGOAN 23   nThe CINEMA   Perfected and Unfierfected Pictures   By WILLIAM R. WEAVER   Summer Cinema   Sunrise isn't Eugene O'Neill's but is that   sort of thing and so, in a sense, signifi   cant. [See it.]   Drums OF Love reveals the great Griffith   trying to be merely human and succeed   ing admirably. [See it in a refrigerated   cinema.]   Forbidden Hours retells the Heidelberg   legend as of Ramon Novarro, adding   modern appliances somehow fatally. [Miss   ft.]   Bringing Up Father is &#151; or ought to be &#151;   the last word in picturization of news   paper comics. [Don't.]   Hot News makes a newsreel reporter of   Bebe Daniels, who makes a great jest of   it all. [Yes.]   Telling the World continues the seem   ingly chronic chronicle of William   Haines. [No.]   The Wheel of Chance gets tangled   around the twin identities of Richard   Barthelmess, who really isn't twins at all.   [Just possibly.]   The Butter and Egg Man reels off a   Spry little yarn about Broadway and the   captions are unusually funny, as is Jack   Mulhall. [On a warm evening.]   The Cossacks, led by Ernest Torrence and   John Gilbert, put up a great scrap. [Any   evening.]   Ladies of the Mob makes an actress of   Clara Bow, who was so successful as a   mere personality. [Avoidable.]   Steamboat Bill, Jr., gets funnier as it goes   along and it goes a long way. [Some   afternoon.]   Street Angel follows the pattern of   "Seventh Heaven" and utilizes the stars   of that immeasurably better picture.   [Probably not.]   The Michigan Kid went to Alaska, be   came a gambler, fell for a gal, turned   honest, got caught in a forest fire and all   that sort of thing. [Never.]   The Magnificent Flirt continues to dis'   tance all contestants and remains the   smartest picture in town &#151; any town.   [Immediately, and imperatively.]   The Lion and the Mouse contains several   scenes in which Lionel Barrymore speaks   and this is the best speaking the noisies   have offered. [Now.]   Happiness Ahead discloses the great gap   separating Colleen Moore from the next   best actress in pictures. [Certainly.]   Half a Bride is better, of course, than no   bride at all, but still not very good. [Not   today.]   The Strange Case of Captain Ramper   isn't strange at all, in view of the Nobile   news. [Uh'uh.]   A Certain Young Man is pretty old,   pretty bad and fatally pretty. [Nope.]   No Other Woman refers to Dolores Del   Rio and that's about all. [Under no   condition.]   Chicken a la King consists of farce, bur-   lesque, repartee and a plot. [Look.]   Ramona is. [Might as well.]   Harold Teen isn't. [If the kiddies in'   sist.]   His Tiger Lady features Adolphe Menjou,   pointlessly. [Detour.]   The Drag Net makes crime seem enter'   taining. [Possibly.]   IN August the cinema becomes in-   evitable. It is cool, comfortable &#151;   in the physical sense, at least &#151; and con'   venient. Citizens who remember Jackie   Coogan as a diminutive waif in "The   Kid" step into the Chicago for a breath   of scientifically chilled air and come   upon him in the disturbingly adolescent   flesh. He displays a disturbingly juve   nile parent, who dances. They talk.   These things occur in the modern   cinema; they are borne with, for, after   all, it is cool &#151; and, ultimately a motion   picture will be shown.   A few paragraphs, then, about the   pictures to which these and similar ex   ercises are hitched as gaudily bedecked   carts before tired horses. Some of them   &#151; the pictures, that is &#151; are pretty   good. Others &#151; but to begin:   The King of Kings ought to stay at   the United Artists for a long time and   it ought to be seen for the same rea   sons &#151; to each his own &#151; that the Bible   ought to be read.   Lights of Tiew Yor\ is one of those   pictures which one must witness if one   is to speak with seeming authority of   this thing which may as well be called   the speaking screen now as later. It is   the first picture in which audibility is   sustained continuously and, after wit   nessing it, one prefers to speak of the   matter briefly if at all.   State Street Sadie is another new   noisy and less libellous with reference   to the municipal escutcheon than most   of the ganglore lately represented as of   this place. In fact, the action transpires   in New York, the heroine wearing the   captional sobriquet for no visible or   credible reason. It isn't very good.   Heart to Heart upsets the perfectly   sound theory that a good story consti   tutes a good motion picture. This story   is not good at all, but veteran players   like Louise Fazenda, Lucien Littlefield,   Mary Astor and Lloyd Hughes enact it   so entertainingly that nothing else mat   ters. It's very pleasant.   The Garden of Eden is quite too   bad. It proves that Corinne Griffith   is not Clara Bow, that Charles Ray is   not Raymond Griffith, and that sophis   ticated comedy must be (1) sophisti   cated, or (2) comedy, or (3) both. It   is none of these.   Forgotten Faces reveals the silver lin   ing which beats beneath the ragged vest   that does not a prison make (or some   thing equally lucid) but is quite well   composed, for all that, and entertaining   in a heavy, sociological way. Clive   Brook is the virtuous burglar. Good,   too.   Red Lips proves beyond question &#151;   and to the immense and loudly evi   denced relief of the young folks pres   ent &#151; that the college boy who necks   best, gins best, and patronizes the best   roadhouses invariably wins the 880, the   track meet and the girl.   Tunney-Heeney Fight Pictures afford   an opportunity to view at fairly close   range the final (Mex.) operations of   Fistiana's champion intellect. Tunney   wins.   And, Then, Too   Hold 'Em Yale gives Rod LaRocque a   chance to show William Haines he holds   no monopoly on the smart aleck indus   try &#151; convincingly, too.   Glorious Betsy would be unusual and   quite good if Conrad Nagel and Dolores   Costello didn't speak their lines; they do,   and it's better.   Laugh, Clown, Laugh has a great chance   to become a classic; Lon Chaney is one.       24 TI4ECI4ICAGOAN   Turn Back the   Sands of Time!   "Lasting beauty of face . . . skin   whose freshness defies the years   . . . never does the world accept   this as a matter of course. Al   ways people marvel at that woman   with power to turn back the sands   of Time," says HELENA   RUBINSTEIN, founder of Mod   ern Beauty Science.   Would you too possess this   magic power? Would you   know the "secret" of a face   that defies the years? Then   come to the Maison de   Beaute of Helena Rubinstein   . . . drink in new youth with   each passing hour ... see   the "years11 being erased   from your face . . . watch   your skin take on new radi   ance!   And at home, continue these   famous treatments with the   specialized creations of   Helena Rubinstein &#151; cleanse   with Valase Water Lily   Cream, the luxury cream,   containing youth-renewing   essences of water lily buds,   (2.50). Revivify the face   and eyes with the exquisite   anti-wrinkle lotion, Valase   Extrait, (2.50). Awaken   the tissue with Valaze Eau   Verte and rejuvenate dry,   lined skin with Valase Gre   cian Anti-wrinkle Cream   (Anthosoros) 1.75. Com   plete the treatment with   Valase Skin-toning Lotion   (1.25), and accent your   beauty with the inimitable   Valase Rouge, Powder and   Lipstick (1.00 to 5.50).   MU/ICAL NOTE/   "Fra Diavolo' &#151; "Marouf" &#151; Eduard Moenke   By ROBERTPOLLAK   670 N. Michigan Avenue   Chicago.   Paris London   Valase Beautifying Skinfood, Helena Rubin   stein's slcin-clearing masterpiece, should be part   of the dajly treatment, all year round. (1.00)   ALTHOUGH the name of Daniel   Francois Esprit Auber means lit'   tie enough today, existing only through   the advertising medium of "Fra Dia'   volo" and very rare revivals of "Masa-   niello," the French gentleman with the   four-ply monicker was a person of con   siderable influence in his day. His third   name is as good as any other term to   describe the character of his music.   One of the grand-daddies of the vague   art-form that has come down to us as   "opera-comique," he gave to the scor   ing of his gay librettos a light touch   that has scarcely ever been surpassed in   the history of French opera. He did   much to free the operatic traditions of   his time from excessive and meaningless   coloratura passage'work and gave vocal   pyrotechnics a psychological value that   they had never had before.   "Fra Diavolo" makes a merry eve'   ning at Ravinia. It is excellent sum'   mer stuff and the members of the North   Shore company do with an eye to all   its comedic possibilities. There is a   bedroom scene in the second act that   would have done credit to the immortal   Avery Hopwood. Zerlina, the luscious   daughter of the inn-keeper, bounces in   and out of her nighty, the while Fra   Diavolo and his two chief henchmen   ogle her from behind the curtains. Al   though the whole affair is conducted   with the strictest decorum it registers   as a decided novelty at the north shore   park. The comedy of the performance   is largely in the hands of D'Angelo and   Paltrinieri, assistants to the bandit chief   Fra Diavolo, and they make good use   of their myriad opportunities for buf   foonery. Trevisan has some good an   tics, too, as the travelling English lord.   Opera in general seems to be such a   serious business that an audience will   make the most of a farce like Fra   Diavolo. Hence the sight of D'Angelo   dangling spaghetti from his whiskers or   the spectacle of Trevisan falling upon   his posterior arouses heartier guffaws   from a high-brow audience than kin   dred incidents in the screen existence   of, say, Harold Lloyd.   The orchestration of the piece is of   about the same substance as a contenv   porary Gershwin or Jerome Kern score,   except that it has the halo that age   gives to all musical survivals. There is   at least one "hit," the famous duet   between Zerlina and the bandit chief   in the first act, and several moderately   interesting quartets and choruses. The   vocal laurels for the Ravinia perform'   ance go chiefly to Chamlee, in the title   role. He has a sweet and graceful   tenor that becomes more ingratiating   every year, and he gives a unique charm   to his share of Auber 's opera. La Mac   beth is sprightly enough as Zerlina and   Bourskaya much less satisfactory as the   spouse of the English Lord.   Rahaud's "Marouf   HENRI RABAUD'S "Marouf"   should prove a popular and last'   ing item in the Ravinia repertoire, and   the reason is not hard to find. The   opera was anything but a success from   the date of its American premiere in   Boston in 1928. But it was always   presented in cold and spacious audi'   toriums under the glitter of the horse'   shoe ring. It requires a different mood   and a different location. At Ravinia   one feels closer to the tragedy and com'   edy on the stage and closer to one's   neighbor in the adjoining seat. It is   not defense de fumer. The fireflies   sparkle, the summer night soothes. If   you are going to be convinced at all,       TI4EO4ICAG0AN 25   you are in a delightfully informal spot   for it. And that is why "Marouf" has   such a bully chance as a Ravinia   regular.   Its book tells of a Cairo cobbler who   runs away from his shrewish wife, poses   as a rich merchant in a strange town,   falls in love with the Sultan's daughter.   His bluff is called and he is forced to   run away with his Princess only to be   saved by the discovery of a convenient   genii in a desert oasis who furnishes   him the caravan that his future father-   in-law has been waiting for. What   happens to the first wife is never dis   closed but nobody cares much.   Gall, of course, did the Princess and   made a stunning stage picture. What   striking singing she had to do in the   third act was managed beautifully. It   is a role that she created for Rabaud at   the Opera Comique more than ten   years ago. Chamlee as "Marouf" sang   ably and handled his rich role as an   experienced actor. Without clowning   he gave to the migratory cobbler a   wealth of humor and humanness. Less   important parts were managed by   Cehanovsky, Claussens, Mojica, Tre   visan and Rothier. The Sultan served   up a pleasant ballet for the visiting   shoemaker furnished by Ruth Page and   the corps de ballet. The sets were   lavish but would have been more   striking if the studio had made use of   less stage shrubbery. Hasselmans con   ducted a score long familiar to him.   The music of "Marouf" will not stir   with envy the dead bones of Wagner   or Debussy. It is always pleasant and   in several instances reaches a rather   high degree of melodic charm and   orchestral power. The Occidental com   poser has a pretty hard time of it with   Oriental music and much of the   oriental colorings of Rabaud's score has   been pretty well filtered through the   Paris Conservatoire. On the other   hand, his music is splendidly integrated   with the materials in his book and its   mood is never more pedantic than that   of the wandering Marouf or his very   modern harem princess.   Wagnerian Rejoicing   THERE is good news for the starved   coterie of Wagnerians in Chicago.   Word comes that Eduard Moerike, a   conductor of wide experience and great   intelligence, will, for the second time,   lead a band of Wagnerian singers to   the United States. And this city is in   cluded in their itinerary. His backers   have great courage, because his first   trip ended dismally with a financial   break- down in some east-coast town.   We recall that the ubiquitous Ganna   Walska gave some first aid.   At any rate it was too bad. Moerike   is a fine conductor and he had plenty   of good people with him, including   Gertner-Fischer, Elsa Alsen and our   own Kipnis. It may have been too soon   after the war and Chicago may be   much hungrier for Wagner now. We   hope so, because the Civic Opera Com   pany is shy of experiments with his   master'works. The "Siegfried" revival   with Stock conducting lost money for   them and they have found it safer dur   ing the past few years to stick to   "Lohengrin" and "Thannhauser" rather   than tackle the Ring.   Moerike's company proposes to do   the Ring intact, and possibly "Tristan"   and "The Meistersingers." And that   is great news.   A Record   For two seasons the English Singers have   been on tour in America, and they have   won almost unique attention. They seat   themselves around a small table and non'   chalantly sing madrigals and carols by   Byrd, Purcell and Peter Warlock. And   the listener wonders if there isn't an   English music after all. The Roycrofters   in East Aurora, who make records as well   as print and bind the works of the Fra,   have issued twelve double-sided discs   made by the Englishmen. And they are   on sale at L and H's. They are vurr*   beautiful songs, beautifully recorded.       26 TI4ECWICAGOAN   for Beauty   MCCE THAN   JITN DEEP   AMOR SKIN &#151; Europe'*   Scientific Beauty Discovery   SCIENCE tells us that under the   skin are myriads of tiny cells   which must be kept healthy if the   skin is to remain firm and lineless.   There lies the foundation of   beauty, not the outer skin which   may be momentarily beautified by   temporary artifice. There, too, lies   the secret of the success of Amor   Skin. This marvelous discovery   by German scientists penetrates   beneath the skin. It helps these   cells to function naturally. Thus   it aids in the restoration or preser   vation of the lovely contours of   youth and in the correction of   lines on face, neck and hands.   Amor Skin is unlike anything   you have ever used. It is an or   ganic preparation that beautifies   in nature's own way. Delightful   to use and unqualifiedly recom   mended for every woman who   would rejuvenate or preserve   her beauty.   Amor Skin is packaged and sealed   in Germany and imported to this   country only by   Amorskin Corporation,   ' Steinway Hall, 111-113 W. 57th St.   New York   AMOR SKIN   c^s   _ 1 SK about Amor Skin at any of   the leading department stores, drug   stores and specialty shops or send   coupon for interesting booklet.   Single Strength (for women between   the ages of twenty and thirty-five)   816.50   Double Strength (for those beyond   thirty-five or for difficult cases) $25.00   CL/2 JAR o   Amor Skin   is sufficient for   six months*   treatment if   used as di   rected.   £   &amp;   NDORSED by prominent physicians   both here and abroad.   Amorskin Corporation   Steinway Hall, 111-113 W 57th St., New "fork   Please send booklet ch \   rhe CI4ICACOENNE   urs an dF uss   By ARCYE WILL   MARSHALL FIELD'S new fur   room is a revelation of the very   latest in luxuriously appointed and   decorated display salons. It seems to   me that even the models were selected   with a view toward including their   hair in the harmony of color.   I went in to see the new furs and   they became but a detail of the picture.   Two charming blonde models posed   their loveliest evening wraps while I   was in the safe room (where a special   vault safeguards the finest coats and   you feel like a princess just sitting   there looking them over) . Fm told that   a great deal of ermine and mink will   be used this year both for evening   (white) and daytime (summer er'   mine). An ermine evening wrap (delft   blue lining) has two fox scarfs starting   at center back and crossing higher in   front to form the bottom. A quite   stiff, high standing collar, and sleeves   with a rounded bell shape below el'   bow, coming in to a small wrist, make   this an unusual and warm coat.   Another ermine, this time a cape   with rather tight hip line, the pelts go'   ing around at the top and up and down   from there. The collar of Russian   sable, making a deep point on one side   of the front and combined at back with   an irregular piece of ermine, so that it   stands high, rather envelope fashion.   ALL of their coats have exquisite   k linings. The above mentioned   being love bird green with a circle   made of ermine tails at each corner of   the bottom. Other particularly mv   usual coats were an eggshell caracul   with long shawl collar of stone martin,   puffy cuffs the trick. Lining of tan,   rather futuristic design. A black kid   circular striped coat dyed blue fox edg'   ing, a collar that can hang loosely as a   short cape, or crushed up softly   around face to make high collar. Ex'   ceedingly smart and unusual looking.   For the daughter who yields not to   the appeal of these exquisite things, I   saw some models at Stevens. A Rus'   si an fitch, heavy looking and very   warm, but really very light in weight.   Silver muskrat with a beaver tailored   collar, also good for the sub-deb. Their   coats in general seemed very tailored.   For instance, one of black Russian   pony trimmed with grey Persian and   lined with old blue would be very smart   on a more mature matron (note, please,   my obvious attempt to tread lightly on       THE" CHICAGOAN 27   years). They have a large stock of   seal and raccoon and a few only of the   "trick fur" sport coats seen quite a   little last year, but in my humble opin   ion never good and I do hope this year   will do for them. Miss McKenty, head   of this department, is, by the way, a   very charming person who impressed   me greatly with her knowledge of furs.   She believes that the tailored or Queen   Ann collar will be the mode this year.   ^^ANDELS had a good looking   ' * straight otter dyed logwood   brown. This does not curl when wet,   yet looks a great deal like nutria. A   black caracul with pointed bottom and   a small inside collar of ermine, snappy   breast pocket with a doo-dangle. The   complete idea being to wear a black   velvet hat with rhinestone pin and   jewelry to match. Very kittish for the   inaugural step-out of the autumn   season.   Most of their coats had the uneven   hemline or tiered effect.   At Carsons &#151; a leopard skin with   black krimmer in points at the bottom,   cuffs and a flat shawl collar. Pony   sport coat with black leather trimmed   collar, belt and seams. Trench coat   idea again, but serviceable for driv   ing. A black broadtail with one   sided cape in back and small straight   collar tying at side. Particularly chic,   this model.   In the children's coat section the new   imports have just arrived and they are   lovely. One of blue and one rose   duvetyn fleece lined with hats to match   and, a little hand tucking with an ar   row for trimming. Quite adorable.   *   I have just had a demonstration of   some new electrical appliances which   will soon be on the market. One, a   coffee percolator with separate heating   element which has a raised center that   fits into an indentation in the percola   tor. The current need only be turned   on for three minutes and the coffee will   continue to perk for about fifteen.   Economical. Now for a weird one,   electrified screens. The insect is electro   cuted but the current is not sufficient   to be noticed by humans.   The Life and Private History of Emily   Jane Bronte, by Romer Wilson. (A. 6?   C. Boni.) A sympathetic attempt to re   construct Emily Jane Bronte's inner life   from the evidence afforded by a sort of   psychoanalysis of her poems and letters.   And it is done by the one person best   qualified to do it &#151; whatever the reader   may think of the possibilities of the sue   cess of such a speculative nature.   .CHICAGOAN   407 So. Dearborn Street   Going away? The Chicagoan will follow you &#151; making its first   fornightly arrival three weeks after notice &#151; if you will fill in the ap   pended form.   (Name) &#151;   (New address) .&#149;   (Old address) _ -   (Date of change) _       28 THE CHICAGOAN   EAST   DELAWARE PLACE   A DISTINGUISHED place to   live &#151; smart both in point   of location and the simple   elegance of Early American fur   nishings. Less than a mile from   the loop &#151; commanding a marvel   ous view of the lake, beaches,   boulevard and downtown district.   Only eight apartments to a floor &#151;   each a completely furnished spa   cious home &#151; quiet and stately.   Several unfurnished studio   apartments with wood burning   fireplaces. Truly an address of   character. Apartments of 1 to 6   Rooms &#151; full hotel service &#151; at sur   prisingly reasonable rentals. Book   ing now for September 1st occu   pancy.   _ THE _   WHITEHALL   APARTMENT HOTEL HOMES   105 EAST DELAWARE PLACE   O. E.TRONNES ORGANIZATION   Exclusiv e Agents   JOURNALISTIC JOURNEYS   Minute Men &#151; for the Moment   By FRANCIS C. COUGHLIN   REAR-ADMIRAL THOMAS T.   CRAVEN is paying his official   visit to the commanding officer of Fort   Sheridan Post. The Regular's band   does its best. Better yet, a field gun   slams out the salute. And the block of   khaki which has flowed up a winding   road between oak trees evolves within   itself to become two lines of men at   present arms.   On the narrow walk before the post   guard house a soldier does sentry duty,   the extreme limits of his walk marked   by a punctilious about face, which, in   the army, is the elaborate ceremony for   turning around. Men in the Regular's   barracks loll from the windows and dis   cuss subjects men discuss the world   over, except perhaps in franker lan   guage. One catches the glib Irish brogue,   the city side-mouth, the southern Illi   nois drawl. Three strapping prisoners,   two negroes and a white, clump by in   hip boots and shovels, a guard march   ing after them with loaded rifle eased   far back on his shoulder. Thus the   Regulars at Fort Sheridan.   Camp Holliday, training area for   citizen volunteers &#151; C.M.T.C. &#151; and re'   serve officers, lies south of the RegU'   lar Army Post on ground still bearing   traces of the raw prairie on which were   thrown up the hasty cantonments in   1917. Indeed, the streets of Camp   Holliday are named for officers from   that first training camp, who died   heroes in France. A few wooden war   time barracks still stand, but not many.   The 2,000 citizens who have elected to   receive training here are tented in   squad tents rather than in wooden   shacks. Their camp is a new thing.   The citizens are new soldiers (to be   sure, some of them have attended pre*   vious encampments and are two months   veterans) .   One notices that the squad tents are   laid out in the ancient Roman tradi*   tion of military camping. Wide, even   ly spaced streets for each company or   cohort. A central avenue north and   another south. Here is a custom of   warfare still scrupulously followed af   ter 2,000 years.   CITIZEN sentries patrol the state   road on the northern edge of   Holliday, perhaps not so briskly as the   sentry before the guard house but   briskly enough to slow down traffic,   which might otherwise be dangerous.   Citizen soldiers, willing young fellows,   with the easy going civilian stamp upon   them, are about on military business.   Most of them are occupied with the   painstaking ritual of military courtesy   so incomprehensible to the true civil   mind : why salute a man when you will   see him again in a few minutes and   when nothing in the world is accom'   plished but the grandiose do-or-die ges*   ture which any young officer can make   of the salute? Thus the civilian pon   ders it. The beginning soldier has   learned to salute as a matter of course.   As a matter of course, he will learn   more of the craft.   The square camp is very busy. Very   young. Twice as busy for instance as   the cook shacks at the end of every   company street where Regular Army   chefs are well under way with the noon   meal &#151; an offering of sauer\raut mitt   wieners, treasonous dishes only a dec   ade before when the Hun was being   put down. Twice as busy, and perhaps   a third younger than the Regular   Army sergeant in charge of cooking,   for the C.M.T.C. soldier will not aver   age more than 19 if, indeed, he will   come to that. He is a stripling still,   with a stripling's enthusiasm.   WAITING for luncheon is a   gay enough ordeal for the camp.   A great ring of new soldiers huddles   about a mail man with now and then   a bounding youth adding himself to its   periphery. G Company, today surprise   winner of the contest for best-kept com   pany street, is energetic under its   laurels. It is being inspected: rifles,   equipment, tents and clothing. Its offi'   cers plough earnestly through the hot   sand of the prize street. Its men stand   earnestly, as rigid and as hot as their   officers.   Not so the company in an adjoining   tent-boulevard. Already dismissed,   this outfit takes its ease. Except for   one tent where the company band prac   tices. The band evinces interesting   symptoms. Bugles are few enough.   Indeed, saxophones seem to predomi   nate. And, though for a time the new   band has at martial airs vigorously,       TUE CHICAGOAN   again and yet again, during pauses be   tween marches, its members solo out of   the unconscious mind. These solos are   invariably dance pieces lovingly   tongued and enhanced by ad lib. cur   licues in most unmilitary cadence.   Here is a case for the psychoanalyst.   A morning's drill and routine are   over. Through the long, sun-burned   afternoon these lads from the Sixth   Corps Area &#151; Michigan, Wisconsin, Il   linois &#151; may amuse themselves with   sports according to their individual   fancies. They may box, wrestle, play   baseball, football, or tennis. Especially   they may swim at a fine beach not 200   yards from the tents. A few lads,   after marching all morning, will plod   gaily off under heavy golf bags for a   try at 18 holes on the links. It is this   enthusiasm which sends men off to be   soldiers. It is this zeal which makes   the mess call the hurdle it is.   OFFICERS mess is more decorous.   Today the officers enjoy roast   beef, potatoes, tomatoes, iced tea and   pie a la mode. They are earnest fel   lows, these reserve officers, some of   them who have been through war and   liked it, others men who have never   been through but who might like it.   All have the camping-out instinct, that   stark atavism in the blood which sends   men out to eat smoky meat over an   open fire and toss under mosquito net   ting when they might dine comfortably   at home and sleep in their beds.   Mess is over. Officers stroll back to   lounge in their own camp. A group   of them laugh with a Colonel, Col.   Siqueland, the 317th Cavalry. Com   ing back past the squad tents one no   tices the men at leisure. They seem   even younger. They are tanned as so   many farm boys, and the blonde does   not tan gracefully; he burns and peels   and blotches. Nor is the army trouser   an aesthetic object. It sags down to   the knees of an unpracticed wearer;   feet protrude from under wrap leggins   at strange angles. But the boys take   pride in the uniform. They wear it   joyfully.   The C.M.T.C. army is not a profes   sional fighting machine. It is a civil   ian approximation of the sterner and   more rigid model. Camp Holliday is,   therefore, an army camp with civilian   innovations: sports and swimming and   easy drill and lazy afternoons full of   sun and leisure. It is through easy   stages that the machine must be tern'   pered to the grim business of war.   Ap artment Town Homes   of 8 and 9 Rooms   4 Baths   at a surprisingly low cost   399 Fullerton Parkway   [Overlooking Lincoln Par\~\   offers all the essentials you most desire in a home   Location   Environment   Convenient arrangement of rooms   Perfection of equipment and appointments   Included in the few remaining apartments is the entire 17th floor which   will allow an arrangement of 12 to 17 rooms   For appointment phone   Mr. F. H. Roys, Superior 8320   Kirkham Hayes Corporation   612 North Michigan Ave.   Wawasee   Indiana's Finest 18'Hole Golf Course   ONE of the most luxuriously furnished hotels in   America. Situated in an exclusive environment   overlooking the beautiful Lake Wawasee. Every recre-   ational feature, including golf, bathing, fishing, motor   ing, yachting, horse-back riding. The best in service   and table that money can produce. Accommodations   for 300. Fire-proof building, every room with privatebath.   "The Wawasee"   HOTEL and COUNTRY CLUB   On Lake Wawasee :: Wawasee, Indiana   Management: Walter L. Gregory and Leonard Hicki   {2   On the Shores of Indiana's "Largest "Lake Tl   the Playground of the Middle West J|       30 TMQCI4ICAGOAN   The Pearson Hotel, distinguished for   its quiet air of refinement, is one   block east of North Michigan Ave   nue. While the Loop is quickly ac   cessible by bus or taxi, many prefer   the short walk. The Pearson con   sistently maintains the high standard   that guards quality. The appoint   ments, furnishings, service and ad   dress are attractive to families ac   customed to live well who wish to   escape the obvious inconveniences of   the more remote sections. Such   families appreciate the opportunities   provided for quicker social and   business contacts.   The PEARSON   HOTEL   190 East Pearson Street   Telephone Superior 8200   Special Monthly Rates   Upon Application   Daily Rates, Single, $3.50 to $6.00; Double,   $5.00 to $7.00   BOOK/   The Second   100 Years   of Lincoln   By SUSAN WILBUR   YES, it's too old an expression to   use any more, but all the same I   can't help thinking about it sometimes.   It's so beautifully true. That one, I   mean, about the second hundred years   not being as hard as the first. Take   a chair for instance. For the first hun   dred years it is sat upon, broken,   mended, recovered, smashed beyond re   pair, and taken up into the attic.   When the second hundred begins it is   brought down again, what there is left   of it, and is treated kindly. It is now   an antique.   At the moment, however, I am think   ing not so much of chairs as of per   sons, and in particular, of presidents of   the United States. Of Harding, for   instance, who deserves to have an ex   ceptionally easy second hundred. Of   Washington, whose chances were   spoiled not so much by Rupert Hughes   as by the publication of his own diaries.   And of Lincoln.   As for Lincoln, now a little better   than fifteen years along on his second,   it would look as though his troubles   were pretty nearly over. The curious   have threshed out everything from his   legitimacy to his actual ability to split   rails, and though nobody bothers to re   member just what conclusions were   reached, at least we all know that the   motions have been appropriately gone   through with.   NOW people are letting him take   things a little more comfortably.   They are even allowing him a better   wife than he had in his first hundred   years. For while Mrs. Lincoln was   actually in the White House they said   everything about her. And by every   thing I don't mean almost everything.   They found fault with her tea-parties   and her temper, her housekeeping and   her methods of training children. They   had her giving information to the Con-   federate army &#151; and entertaining   Charles Sumner in her bedroom. And   even after she had died, and they were   trying to be kind, the kindness was for   the most part misplaced. They called   attention to her quick temper, and then   excused it by saying that it probably   indicated just a little touch of madness.   But now, at the age of a hundred, Mrs.   Lincoln is undergoing a beauty treat   ment. It is not her face that is being   beautified. Even the unflattering   cameras of the sixties bear witness to   the fact that her face was pretty much   all right as it was. But her character.   The treatment is being administered   by Honore Willsie Morrow. The first   appointment, or sitting, or whatever   they call it in beauty parlors, was en   titled "Forever Free," and told the   story of her White House years, and   Lincoln's, up to the Emancipation   Proclamation. The second was a little   biography, "Mary Todd Lincoln,"   which gave the facts, told how hard it   had been to make sure of them, and   then did a most amusing thing. It   showed by actually making up a little   story then and there out of a handful   of them, Mrs. Morrow's own particular   method of turning research into real   life.   AND now a third is just out,   i\ "With Malice Toward None,"   the story of the last two years of the       TUECUICAGOAN 31   Civil War. Greek tragedy is often   praised for its quality of picturing   human beings under stress, their ges   tures, what they say, how they cling   now to this little thing, now to that.   These Lincoln novels by Mrs. Morrow   have that same quality. Sleepless   nights, meals slighted or not eaten at   all, have seamed the faces of Lincoln   and of his cabinet. And under stress   each reacts differently: irascible but   faithful Stanton, oratorical Sumner,   ambitious Chase. Not an easy matter   for the man at the helm to keep to his   course with a crew like that who are   among other things not fond of taking   orders.   There is something extraordinarily   steadying about standing at Lincoln's   shoulder so to speak and watching how   he did it. But, as Mrs. Morrow points   out, even Lincoln could hardly have   seen things through without Mary to   leave cookies at his bedside and small   Tad to bother him just often enough &#151;   or even a little too often.   Paragraph Pastime   When West Was West, by Owen Wis-   ter. (The Macmillan Company.) Al   though Owen Wister will undoubtedly   die as he has lived, the author of one   book, namely "The Virginian," no matter   how many other excellent novels he may   write, that fact need not interfere with   your recognizing this new book of short   stories as good action, good West. All   you have to do is to imagine it written   under a pseudonym.   Europe, by Count Hermann Keyserling,   translated by Maurice Samuel. (Har-   court Brace and Co.) The central philo   sophical thesis of this book, namely that   some obscure but universal shift, com   parable in its surface effects to the Japa   nese earthquake, is taking place in the   relationship of the male sex and the fe   male among human beings, will not be   unfamiliar to such readers as heard Count   Keyserling lecture last winter. It is a   suggestive thesis and as much fun to play   with as the thought that maybe the cold   weather last spring was presage of an   other ice age. Much less fun, however,   though in some ways more comic, are his   generalizations about the modern nations   of Europe. "France is the last refuge of   love." "What characterizes the Castilian   landscape is the cosmic, the stellar, in   distinction to the sublunar." And to   round it out a little pat on the back to   England, a somewhat left-handed one to   be sure, and to Germany a little lecture   on the advisability of getting rid of that   inferiority complex.   Portrait of Lady Mary Montagu, by   Iris Barry. (The Bobbs-Merrill Com   pany.) After reading this new biography   of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, you   will probably have more trouble than ever   trying to keep her and Madame de   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 NO 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   Discerning   Qraceful   Competent   "The Chicagoan,"   407 So. Dearborn St.,   Chicago, Illinois   Send "The Chicagoan" one year, $3 &#151; two years, $$, (I have   checked my choice as you will notice.)   Name   Address..       32 TUtCUICAGOAN   MMB- "**   Good show, Gerald?   Very favorably reviewed in The   Chicagoan.   And the time?   Eight-thirty; why?   But Gerald, it's eight-ten now &#151;   My dear, yon know I always make   my selection of tickets at   COUTHOUI   Mississauga Lodge   Limited   In the heart of the beautiful Ontario   Lakes Region &#151; Canada's Scenic   Province   M1   ISSISSAUGA   Lodge faces Mis   sissauga Lake, one of   the chain of blue water   lakes in the Kawartha   district &#151; lakes abound   ing in small mouth bass   and trout.   Accommodations are   afforded in either the   main lodge or bunga   lows, the latter com   prising three bedrooms,   living room and spa   cious veranda. Both the   lodge and bungalows   enjoy southern exposure.   Space of necessity is limited. Write   for further particulars to   Mississauga Lodge   Limited   Sept. 15 to June 15   Executive Offices   15 Wellington St., E.   Toronto, Canada   June 15 to Sept. 15   Halls Bridge P. O.   Ontario   Canada   Sevigny straight in your mind. Perhaps   the best way is to remember that Lady   Mary eloped and Madame de Sevigny   didn't, though even that is rather con   fusing, since it was the latter's husband   who was the attractive rake, while Mr.   Wortley Montagu was, even in his court'   ship, as stiff and straight as any poker.   Iris Barry has turned the Letters into an   exciting continuous story, and has made   a shrewd inference as to the somewhat   tragic and not entirely attractive lady   who lay behind them, court beauty, trav   eller to Constantinople, friend of Pope   and later his enemy, mother of the   Countess of Bute.   Japanese All, by J. Ingram Bryan. (E. P.   Dutton and Company.) Although these   essays are not likely to start in Japan any   such riot as "Mother India" started in   India, they do nonetheless state quite   plainly a number of plain truths about in   sects and street car service and justice and   wives and a number of other things.   Plainly but also humorously and with   daintiness.   German Baroque Art, by Sacheverell Sit-   well. (Doubleday, Doran.) Baroque,   says Mr. Sitwell, is the only art that has   so far not become tarnished with a too   extravagant admiration. Get Baroque out   of the way and then we shall at last be   free to become original. Getting it out   of the way, however, is, as he does it,   something of an end in itself.   The Tower, by W. B. Yeats. (The Mac-   millan Company.) This small collection   of Mr. Yeats' latest poetry is typical of   his new manner, more muscular and   actual than his early work, not so ob   scure, concerned sometimes with the af   fairs of daily life but always from the   point of view of a man to whom daily   life is like the visible part of an iceberg &#151;   carried along by a vaster reality beneath.   Armance, by Stendhal (Henri Beyle)   translated by C. Scott-Moncrieff. (Bom   &amp; Liveright.) One hardly expects sur   prises in a unifrom edition of so well   known a writer as Stendhal. But this is   a surprise &#151; Stendhal's first novel treating   a theme which was so unconventional in   Stendhal's day that he had resource to   double entendre and "got by with" his   story so successfully that its real theme   was unsuspected by most of its original   readers and the book was neglected. The   result is that this is the first translation   of the work ever made into English. The   story is that of a man whose mind and   emotions are seised by a passion but   whose body refuses to follow.   Great French Short Stories, edited by   Lewis Melville and Reginald Hargreaves.   (Boni &amp; Liveright.) The Week End   Library, Second Issue. (Doubleday,   Doran.) The vacationist who wishes to   take along a lot of reading in a small   compass will welcome these two books.   The first selects French stories from   "Aucassin and Nicolette" to the contem   porary Pierre Hamp. The second binds   up in one volume, retaining the original   paginations &#151; which gives the editor a   chance for some jocular preface writing   &#151; a novel, McFee's "Command," some   short stories including Conrad's "La   goon," and some essays, humor and   poetry.   Championship   of the   Americas   will be decided in September   when the spectacular team from   Argentina lines up against the   brilliant four representing the   United States. The matches are   certain to be replete with thrills   for every lover of sport. Thrill   ing, too, as well as accurate will   be the descriptive and pictorial   accounts in   POLO   "Magazine of the Game"   Quigley Publishing Company   407 S. Dearborn St.   Chicago   On Sale at Brentano's   Notice   The special representatives of the Peri   odical Sales Company, listed below, are   authorized to accept and receipt for orders   for "The Chicagoan" on the special rate   basis of 52 issues for $5.00. Courtesies ex   tended will be appreciated.   Special Representatives   Carl Peterson Nathan Bell   Richard Long Charles Majewskl   Harry Morrow Martin Grame   William Glawe John Mage   Helen Purcell Paul Lukaeek   Carllta E. Broughton Robert Holt   Willieta Johnson Floyd Boyer   Dorothy Evans Frank Palmer   Ralph Larson Albert Prueha   Panl Danneny Sidney Meyers   P. O. Crauman Glen Patton   Win. F. Hlnes Robert Bueek   Geo. W. Backus Lucas Farmi   The Chicagoan       Indispensa bly &#151;   The Chicagoan   &#151; for a summer season rehearsal oj   things sprightly, significant, pleas   antly intelligent.   j   ~\   IMPENDING premieres include Continental   Chicago, a merry comedy &#151; in contrast to   contemporary dramatizations of the Town &#151; by   Samuel Putnam; Lake Forest, an epic produc   tion from the studio of Peter Koch; The Mar   riage Court, a serio-comic interlude by Francis   C. Coughlin; The Original Gold Coast, a con-   tinuation of Arthur BisselVs charming pastoral.   And between the acts &#151; repartee and specialties   by Burton Browne, A. R. Katz, Hermina A. Selz,   Phil Nesbit, Walter H. Schmidt, Nat Karson.   Henry Holmes Smith and others gifted in the art   of chalktalk.   The next Chicagoan &#151; press-agented by H. O.   Hofmans shrewdly eloquent cover drawing.   These Charming Sports &#151; opens August 25.   Tickets available at all smart newsstands.   V   r       It's toasted ?.   No Throat Irritation No Cough. </body>
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