For Forfnic^hT- Ending ust 25, 1928 Aug Price 15 Certs €Bom(§©AM Reg. U. S. Pat. Off. „¦•'' 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 — 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 — 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 & SONS PIANO MFG. CO. Steger Building, Northwest Corner Wabash and Jackson TifE £HIC ^oa*— Martin J. Quigley, Publisher and Editor; published fortnightly by The Chicagoan Publishing Co., 407 South Dearborn St., Chicago, Th tt <-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— 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 — 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 — Inland Lake Regatta, Lake Geneva, August 15. RUSTIC— 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— Aquitania, August 22; Levia than, August 25, Southampton bound. DOMESTIC — A new Chicagoan, August 25. STAGE Musical Comedy GOOD NEWS— 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 — 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— 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— 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— 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— 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 — 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 — 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— 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 — Women's Western — August 20-25, Indian Hill Golf Club. Sponsored by W. G. A. Western Amateur — August 27-September 1. Bob o' Link Golf Club. Sponsored also by the Western Golf Association. POLO— 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— 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— The Hawthorne track, Cicero, 111., takes up where Lincoln Fields left off. CINEMA UNITED ARTISTS— Randolph at Dear born — 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—2') W. Madison— 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— 110 N. State— Likewise dedicated to the speaking screen, likewise cool, usually thronged. CHICAGO — State at Lake — 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— 20 W. R a n d o 1 p h— 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 — 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— 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— 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— 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— 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— 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— 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— 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— 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— 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 — 316 Federal. Wabash 0770. Steaks and chops transcendantly done in the British manner. CAFE LOUISIANE— 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— 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— 1528 North Clark. Delaware 3942. A very stout German place, quaint, satisfying, filling. Try it. VICTOR HOUSE— 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 — 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 — 22 East Ontario. Delaware 1909. French and moderately ritzy. Music. Private dining rooms if desired. Teddy Majerus is host. Good. JULIEN'S— 1009 North Rush. Delaware 4341. Though Papa Julien is in heaven these three months gone, his staff carries on under Mama Julien's eye — and a dis cerning eye it is. Tremendous portions informally served. A show place. Call for reservation and menu forecast. SALLY'S— 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— 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 — 181 Lakeshore Drive. Superior 8500. The heart of the Gold Coast — see page 10 of this issue describing the hotel's back yard, Oak Street Beach. DRAKE HOTEL — 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— 190 East Pearson. Superior 8200. A quiet, well-bred, very competent inn, an excellent place for Sunday dinner. SPAHISH DINING ROOM— 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— 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— 1217 South Sangamon. Canal 6838. The amiable Elias demon' strates his art. Orthodox Hebrew calories. Not on Saturday unless you want salad. VITTORIA RESTAURANT— 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— 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— 1307 South Wabash. The Signor Marsellio's fish and steak offer ings are worth a bout by any experi' enced table warrior. BON VIVANT— 4367 Lake Park Avenue. Oakland 0793. French and cosy, this parlor dispenses a memorable meal and vends salad dressing. ALEXANDRIA RESTAURANT — 445 North Clark. Delaware 2389. Greek dishes in the best Hellenic tradition. Be sure to order green onions with the roast lamb. CAPOLA RESTAURANT— 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 — 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 —But." Think it over — "Chicago — 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. — 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 — in Three Parts — 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 — 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 — say one- fourth — 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 — and no degree is necessary for such eligibility — they do not need to worry. 'SHH — 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 — 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 — 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 — 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 — almost unaccountably — 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 — a youth with a ukulele — 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 — 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 — 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 — a pair of Lincoln Park coppers stand guard over the grass— 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 „»-"".' : 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 — // By ARTHUR BISSELL PRAIRIE AVENUE society was extremely horsey — 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 — 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 — 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 — 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 — 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' ¦«¦& DICHADP ^LF\ryi 'Pity, ain't it, Blanch? I spoze he didn't have no sex appeal' 14 THE CHICAGOAN "And now, Girls — you've been so perfectly darling — 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 — 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. — 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 — as far as the eye can reach — 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 — 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 — unless you are looking for German art effects. In the following -«^«*%#w*^ Yessir, best orchestra in town, I say — 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— sparrow— 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 — 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 — And if Geneva is the League of Na' tions, then the League of Nations must be Geneva, and — 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 — 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 — 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" — 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 — 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! — 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 — 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 — 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 — these serve to tip the balance, and a pension it is — 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 — oh, so like! — 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 — 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 — 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) — 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. — 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 — baptized Francis Stuyvesant Peabody — is careless about his clothes or careful about ex penses. I should say, rather, that — born though he was with a butler to polish the silver spoon he cut his eye teeth on — 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 — 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 — and that's not listed in the s. r.— 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 — still in his early forties, is possessed of a simplicity — or, if you will, a humil ity, qualities rarely associated with the rich and successful— 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 — or that of a classmate with him at the time — caused a fatal accident and almost put him out of school for good. Nor did he pass up anything there was to drink — as he does today — 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 — if they want it — while he sips his coca cola or nibbles a chocolate bar. Nor is this change in his habits — from a gay young blade to a man of responsibility — entirely a result of his recent con version to Catholicism. Unquestion ably the sudden death of his father — whom he loved with almost a hero wor ship — had a definite sobering effect on the whole life of the son. And this devotion to his father — a man of fine feeling and kindly nature — 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 — 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 — a Catholic memorial to the memory of a Protestant Episcopal — 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 — an oldfashioned red brick — but once you enter, you know that here abide many happy things. The two Peabody boys — "Stuyvey" and "Pat" — 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 — 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 — that friendly smile — 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 — 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 — not even to the Dublin Horse Show— 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 —daughter of that early Chicagoan, Patrick Healy, of Lyon and Healy— 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 — 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. — (By Special Cor' respondent) — 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. — (By Leased Wire) — 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 — San Francisco, Cal. — (By Veritas Press) — 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 — Bath, England — (By Cable) — 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 — Jerusalem, Palestine — (Foreign Service) — 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 — (By Radio) — 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. — 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 — dimly above — 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 — 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 — Grace Brinkley, Laura Lee, Florence Misgen and Evelyn Law — 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 — "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 — 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. — 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 — or ought to be — 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 — 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 — in the physical sense, at least — 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 — 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 — the pictures, that is — are pretty good. Others — 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 — to each his own — 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 — and to the immense and loudly evi denced relief of the young folks pres ent — 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 — 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 — 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' — "Marouf" — 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 — 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. £ & 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 — 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 — 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 — making its first fornightly arrival three weeks after notice — if you will fill in the ap pended form. (Name) — (New address) .• (Old address) _ - (Date of change) _ 28 THE CHICAGOAN EAST DELAWARE PLACE A DISTINGUISHED place to live — smart both in point of location and the simple elegance of Early American fur nishings. Less than a mile from the loop — commanding a marvel ous view of the lake, beaches, boulevard and downtown district. Only eight apartments to a floor — each a completely furnished spa cious home — quiet and stately. Several unfurnished studio apartments with wood burning fireplaces. Truly an address of character. Apartments of 1 to 6 Rooms — full hotel service — 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 — 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 — C.M.T.C. — 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 — 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 — Michigan, Wisconsin, Il linois — 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 — 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 — 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 — 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 — 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 — Canada's Scenic Province M1 ISSISSAUGA Lodge faces Mis sissauga Lake, one of the chain of blue water lakes in the Kawartha district — 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 — carried along by a vaster reality beneath. Armance, by Stendhal (Henri Beyle) translated by C. Scott-Moncrieff. (Bom & Liveright.) One hardly expects sur prises in a unifrom edition of so well known a writer as Stendhal. But this is a surprise — 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 & 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 — which gives the editor a chance for some jocular preface writing — 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 — The Chicagoan — for a summer season rehearsal oj things sprightly, significant, pleas antly intelligent. j ~\ IMPENDING premieres include Continental Chicago, a merry comedy — in contrast to contemporary dramatizations of the Town — 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 — 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 — press-agented by H. O. Hofmans shrewdly eloquent cover drawing. These Charming Sports — opens August 25. Tickets available at all smart newsstands. V r It's toasted ?. No Throat Irritation No Cough.