For Forfni^bt boding, ^/t_ January 12,1929 (Sjfflfg :e 15 Certs A 1 Xow • ' . More than ever ASK THE MAN WHO OWNS ONE , #^ %, '^O, MORE THAN THREE THOUSAND PACKARDS WERE PURCHASED IN CHICAGO IN THE YEAR OF 1928 TWECUICAGOAN The Party, Wedding and Gift Bureau, Second Floor Oil atSea NOTHING to read . . . notking to Jo . . . notking to look at but a passing lisk . . . unless tke young ladies at tke rigkt take pity on kim, tkis unfortunate gentleman's case may be considered desperate. And so unnecessary! If your friends are sailing you will find us ready witk a tkousand kelpful suggestions for every type of traveler, guaranteed sure cures lor boredom by land or sea. Novel Bon Voyage boxes are our speciality, containing lovely and amusing gifts from all over tke Store, wrapped in gay papers. And we undertake tne entire botkersome responsibility of packing and skipping. MARSHAIL FIND f, fO/WPA N Y 2 TI4E CHICAGOAN STAGE Musical Comedy GOLDEK DAWN— Four Cohans, 119 North Clark. Central 8240. A large and colorful operetta in a nice warm jungle. Splendidly done and reinforced by the voice of Robert Chisholm. See it. Curtain 8:15. Sat. and Wed. 2:1?. RIO RITA— Illinois, 65 East Jackson. Harrison 6510. A large and decorative stage piece in the Ziegfeld manner embel- lished by J. Harold Murray, Etheling Terry, excellent comedy and the Al- bertina Rasch girls. It is unhurt by a lack of tunes and a creaking plot. See it. Closes January 19. Curtain 8:20. Sat. and Wed. 2:20. LOVELY LADY— Garrick, 64 West Ran dolph. Central 8240. The durable and delightful Mitzi in another Shubert show. To be reviewed. 8:15 and 2:15. BLOSSOM TIME— Studebaker, 418 South Michigan. Harrison 2792. This operetta pieced together from the works of Franz Schubert and very competently done will close, according to rumor, January 5. Its successor in the Studebaker has not yet been named. Curtain 8:15. Sat. and Wed. 2:15. MY MARYLAND— Great Northern, 20 West Quincy. Central 8240. This Romberg operetta of the Civil War, Stonewall Jackson, Barbara Frietchie and all re"v*ved until January 5. (See another version of the Frietchie incident chastely done within this volume.) MUSIC IN MAY, another operetta, replaces "My Maryland." THE DESERT SONG— Majestic, 22 West Monroe. Central 8240. A revival from last year's tuneful boards. Good stuff, and rousingly done. Drama IN ABRAHAM'S BOSOM — Playhouse, 410 South Michigan. Harrison 2300. A tragedy of a negro in ambitious war with his surroundings. Moving, bitter, sig- nificant theatre. Closing January 5. Curtain 8:30. Sat. and Wed. 2:30. THE BACHELOR FATHER— Blackstone, 60 East Seventh. Harrison 6609. A most amusing comedy high in previous critical praise. To be reviewed. Cur' tain 8:30. Sat. and Wed. 2:30. THE FROHT PAGE — Erlanger, 127 North Clark. State 2461. A loud and lewd melodrama of the newspaper frenzy, gusty, hilarious, lively and immensely di- verting. By all means. Curtain 8:30. Sat. and Wed. 2:30. THE TRIAL OF MARY DUGAN— Add- phi, 11 North Clark. Randolph 4466. A tense and persuasive melodrama with the beauteous Ann Harding on trial for life. Accurate court stuff. A good eve ning. Curtain 8:30. Sat. and Wed. 2:30. THE WAR SONG— Harris, 170 North Dearborn. Central 1880. A comedy THE CHICAGOAN PRESENTS The Season, by H. O. Hoffman Cover Current Entertainment, for the Fortnight Ending January 12 Page 2 Gustatory Guidance 4 Notes and Comments By Martin J. Quigley 7 Speaking of the Market, by Loren Carroll 9 A Poetic Acceptance, by Donald Plant 10 Page One, by Meyer Levin 11 An Annual Report, by John C. Emery 12 The HarvarD'Yale-Princeton Club, by William C. Boyden, Jr 13 Modernism 14 Barbara Frietchie, by Gonfal 15 Adventures in Insomnia, by Francis C. Coughlin 17 Town Talk 19 A Marital Note, by Sher Mund 21 Confession, by Park Cummings 22 Jarvis Hunt — Chicagoan, by Maureen McKernan 23 The View Moderne, by William D. Borden 24 The Stage, by Charles Collins 25 Opry House Tonight, by Francis C. Coughlin 27 Music, by Robert Pollak 29 Newsprint, by Ezra 32 The Chicagoenne, by Arcye Will 34 The Cinema, by William R. Weaver.... 36 Books, by Susan Wilbur 38 plus a drama with George Jessel. To be reviewed. APPEARANCES — Princess, 159 South Clark. Central 8240. Also a comedy drama, and also to be reviewed. COQUETTE— Selwyn, 180 North Dear born. Central 3404. Helen Hayes comes to the Selwyn for what should be a delightful evening. To be reviewed THE SHANNONS OF BROADWAY— Cort, 132 North Dearborn. Central 0019. A comic thesis to the effect that once on Broadway always off country life. Good, though a bit hackneyed. Curtain 8:30. Sat. and Wed. 2:30 DEAR BRUTUS — Goodman Memorial, Lakefront at Monroe. Central 7085. Barrie's comedy very nicely done by the earnest and worth-while Goodman play ers yields the boards to SIX CHARAC TERS IN SEARCH OF AN AUTHOR. January 7. REVIVALS— Minturn Central, 64 East Van Buren. Harrison 5800. And Cha teau, Broadway at Grace. Lakeview 7170. These theatres repeat last season's hits. The theatre goer can thus catch up on his neglected box offices. Fairly well done. Call theatres for program information. Vaudeville THE PALACE— 159 West Randolph. State 6977. Headliners on the Keith - Albee circuit, and many of them head- liners indeed. Twice daily 2:15 and 8:15. Telephone for weekly programs STATE LAKE— 190 North State. Dear born 6204. Orpheum circuit vaudeville comparable to the Palace program. Call the box office for timely information. CINEMA UHITED ARTISTS— Randolph at Dear born — The Town's best cinema. Pictures, exclusively, with just the right sort of people to left and right. Continuous. Midnight performances Saturdays. McVICKERS — 25 West Madison — The Town's best Balaban H Katz. Sound pic tures exclusively. Continuous. Midnight performances Saturdays. ROOSEVELT— 110 N. State— The Town's second best Balaban & Katz. Pictures only. Continuous. Midnight perform ances Saturdays. MONROE — Monroe at Dearborn — An un- crowded and comfortable housing for usually good and frequently smart pic tures. Continuous. ORPHEUM — State at Monroe — A crowded and steep enclosure for the dialogue drama. Continuous. CHICAGO — State at Lake — Balaban 6? Katz in all its splendor. Jazz bands, cir cus acts, symphonies of a sort, pomp and circumstance in gold braid. Pictures, too. Continuous. ORIENTAL— 20 W. Randolph— A monu ment to Paul Ash, occupied just now by [continued on page 4] The Chicagoan — Martin J. Quigley, Publisher and Editor; published fortnightly by The Chicagoan Publishing Co., 407 South Dearborn St., Chi cago, 111. New York Office: 656 Fifth Ave. Los Angeles Office: 5617 Hollywood Blvd. Subscription $3.00 annually, single copies 15c. Vol. VI, No. 8 —for the Fortnight ending January 12. (On sale December 29.) Entered as second class matter, March 25, 1927, at the Post-Office at Chicago, 111., under the act of March 3, 1879. TME CHICAGOAN 3 Chax . A . Jteven/ • & . r I c / SUNBURNED SKINS BALMY BREEZES RADIATING SUNSHINE the essential elements which will affect the wardrobe of the smart Southern Travellers. A large and exclusive group of costumes for Southern Wear has been assembled for your convenience at Stevens. COSTUMES COSTUME ACCESSORIES 4 TI4ECUICAG0AN Brooke Johns and the Ash bandsmen. Youngest crowd in Town. Pictures be tween jazz shows. Continuous. North Granada, Uptown and Sheridan in order named. Pictures, stage didoes, music and a neighborly atmosphere. South Avalon, Tivoli and Piccadilly in that se quence. Courtesy, architecture and things like that in addition to pictures and items called presentations. West Marbro, Paradise, Senate, Harding and State successively. Pictures and their seemingly inseparable accompaniments. In the frank familiarity of the community. MUSIC Chicago Civic Opera in 18th year. Audi torium theatre every night, Sunday ex cepted. Matinee, Sat. and Sun. Call Harrison 1240 for program information. Chicago Symphony Orchestra, the 38th year. Orchestra Hall. Regular subscrip tion program, Friday afternoon, Saturday evening (the same program). Sixteen Popular concerts during the season, ap proximately every other Thursday eve ning. Tuesday afternoon series, a bit heavier than the Pop concerts, the second and fourth Tuesday of each month. Call Harrison 0363 for program information. TABLES BLACKSTONE HOTEL— 656 South Mich igan. Harrison 4300. A most proper and luxurious inn with the niceties of civilization at the dweller's disposal. A high point. Margraff's music. August Dittrich is maitre d'hotel. STEVEHS HOTEL— 730 South Michigan. Wabash 4400. A huge establishment very briskly and competently adminis tered. Husk O'Hare in the main dining room for dancing from 6:30 until 9:30. Stalder is headwaiter. COHGRESS HOTEL— Congress at Michi gan. Harrison 3800. Peacock Alley, The Balloon Room, Johnny Hamp's band — all suave and worldly adjuncts to a suave and worldly mode of life on the boulevard. A show place. Ray Barrec is headwaiter. PALMER HOUSE — State at Monroe. Randolph 7500. A stopping place in the center of things. Gracious and comfort able. An exceptionally good orchestra. Juan Muller is maitre d'hotel. EDGEWATER BEACH HOTEL— Marine Dining Room. Longbeach 6000. Proper and pleasant, the Marine Room offers dining and dancing. Food is excellent. And the music by Ted Fiorito rather more than that. Very nice people. Wil« Ham is headwaiter. [listings begin on page 2] CLUB AMBASSADEUR— 226 East On tario. Delaware 0930. One of the best night places. Wakeful and knowing with good people, a sinful band, luxurious fit tings, hostesses and entertainment. Until 7 a. m. or something like that. Sylvia De Vere a most toothsome soubrette. Johnny Itta is headwaiter. CLUB ALABAM— 747 Rush. Delaware 3260, 3818, 3819. Also a worldly and wakeful club. A negro band under Pro fessor Tyler. Entertainment. Gay cus tomers. Good service. Gene Harris is headwaiter. GRANADA CAFE— 6800 Cottage Grove. Hyde Park 0646. A young, lively club with the best dance music yet, under the baton of Professor Guy Lombardo. Crowded on week-ends. Billy Leather is headwaiter. PETRUSHKA CLUB— 165 North Michi gan. Dearborn 4388. A very smooth, elegant Russian night place offering ex ceptional food, good dancing, plenty of color and the certain attendance of the people' whose names are news. Khmara is master of ceremonies. Kinsky is chief servitor. CLUB APEX— 330 East 35th. Douglas 4878. A black and tan with something of Harlem whoopee about it. Conse quently a show place. Only if you like that sort of thing. If you do — fine. Jimmy Noone's band. Frankie Sine is headwaiter. See Mr. Coughlin's remarks on the Black and Tan in this issue. CHEZ PIERRE— Ontario and Fairbanks Court. Superior 1347. A reliable, alert, well-known club long a Chicago institu tion. Comfortable, hospitable, nicely set. Good people. Music by Hoffman. Paul is headwaiter. ST. HUBERT'S OLD ENGLISH GRILL — 316 Federal. Wabash 0770. Impos ing victuals which go far to explain why the "tight little Isle" is distended. CAFE LOUISIANE— 1341 South Michi gan. Michigan 1837. Victory 10533. Creole cooking is here a ritual acted out on the splendid pompano (rapturous fish!) Music for dancing. Time for dining. Mons. Max is headwaiter and an expert guide to the cuisine. CAFE OLD STAMBOUL— 39 East Oak. Delaware 1825. A Turkish kitchen un der the hand and eye of Mons. Mosgofian, the Stamboul serves a weird and tooth some platter. Highly perfumed and something of a show place. RED STAR INN— 1528 North Clark. Delaware 3942. German dishes sump tuously done in vast portions. As quaint and soothing a dining room as exists here abouts. JULIEH'S— 1009 North Rush. Delaware 4341. Great eating at plain tables under the supervision of Mama Julien, now, alas, a widow. A show place, mildly. BREVOORT HOTEL— 120 West Madi son. Franklin 2363. A superior Loop place with a highly civilized menu, a string quartette from 6 to 8 p. m. of formal concert quality, and dishes in the American manner of cookery. CIRO'S— 18 West Walton. Delaware 2592. Highly notable edibles lovingly done in an exclusive eating place mostly in formal dress. Louis Steffins is table chief. FRASCATI— 619 Cass. Delaware 9669. A pleasant, competent Italian restaurant with deft service, nice people, notable dishes. JIM IRELAND'S OTSTER HOUSE— 632 North Clark. Delaware 4144. Sea foods in profusion until 4 a. m. or thereabouts. An after-theatre choice alike satisfying to soul and to esophagus. LAKESHORE DRIVE HOTEL— 181 Lakeshore Drive. Superior 8500. The apex of the suave, aloof Gold Coast, with wise and worldly patrons, impeccable service, superb kitchen. John Birgh is headwaiter. DRAKE HOTEL— Michigan Avenue at Lakeshore Drive. Superior 2200. Larg est of class hotels, the Drake is proper, enjoyable, extremely civilized for an eve ning of dining and dancing. Peter Ferris is headwaiter. Reservations made for Hotel Broadmoor, Colorado Springs. BELMONT HOTEL— 3156 Sheridan Road. Bittersweet 2100. In food, service and appointments a leader for the mid north- side. SHORELAHD HOTEL— 5454 Southshore Drive. Centrally located for the south side and a comfortable, well victualled inn. SALLY'S— 4650 Sheridan Road. A break fast place with no reservations and few inhibitions patronized by a gay night gang until, say, 9 a. m. Merry. Impromptu. Amusing. ALEX SCHWARTZ'S— 117 North Dear born (upstairs). Dearborn 0230. Social atmosphere is somewhat shirt-sleeve; serv ice only fair; decorations nil. But the most noble roast duck with green apple sauce yet to fall victim to this investiga tor. Selah! NINE HUHDRED—A smart, new and very competent restaurant at 900 North Michigan. An aware luncheon place fre quented by the best people. COLLEGE INN, BAL TABARLN— Hotel Sherman. Franklin 2100. Gay night places both and the Bal late as well. Col lege Inn entertainment the most lavish of any downtown stand with imported stage stars on view. Dancing-dining-dinning. Braun is headwaiter at the Inn. Dick Reed at the Bal. TMECWICAGOAN 5 "/ Reserve the Right to Form My Own Opinions" /WILL have none of people who explain jokes to me . . .or people who interpret movie plots. And I rule out of my reading those newspapers which express every sob and heart beat for my imaginative ears. I like my news told in forthright fashion. I want it to be complete, accurate and authoritative. I like to be informed, but I don't want my opinions formed for me. That's why I am so thoroughly satisfied with the manner of news presentation in the CHICAGO DAILY JOURNAL 6 tuecwcagoan SOUTHERN MODES L y'or those Iortunate lashionables who "will soon migrate to lashion s Iavonte pray-grounds . . . we have gathered together an advance col lection ol Xvesort- Apparel, styled to meet their exacting require ments . . . designed and created with the care and distinction that make our x rocks and Crowns superior and superlatively chic. Diaphanous L/hijjons ana laces JUuxumous prints ana crepes and tke swagger oportswear lor day-time pleasures and play. $ 75 s and upwards '¦ • :; • • 320 MICHIGAN AVENUE, NOHTH PEARL E- POWELL CHICAGOAN WHILE law enforcement agencies may suffer some momentary lowering in prestige, in the long run their efforts should be simplified by the introduc- tion of the latest novelty in the killing business in Chicago under which prospective practitioners of homicide announce in court, as happened last week, their intention of directing future attention to a named individual. Having the next intended victim identified in a court of record, however embarrassing such procedure may be to the presiding jurist, very plainly lessens the problem of the police. It should also serve to make more complete the crime stories in the newspapers. Despite the most pains- taking efforts of the pressmen — with all of their intimate accounts, photographs and crosses marking the spot — the reports uniformly lack one thing necessary for utter com' pleteness. This is, of course, a last living moment statement from the deceased. Under the new order no breakfast table need lack even this ultimate touch of completeness. THE City of Chicago, in keeping with the most revered of New Years resolutions, has determined through the Council committee on finance to estab- lish and maintain a budget which shall be within income limitations. This would be unadulterated good news coming at almost any other time of the year, but blossoming forth now amid all of the attendant ceremonies of a New Year's resolution, we wonder if it will not soon be claiming for itself a place in the mountainous debris of broken resolutions that com mences to accumulate even before the echo of the whistles and gongs have died away. ? THE Illinois battalion of the Anti-Saloon League of America recently held an encampment in Chicago. We do not know whether Messrs. Byfield, Bering and Byfield will hold the following statement to be libelous, but libel or no libel, the meeting was held at the Hotel Sherman. But, after all, the Hotel Sherman is a public house and while its traditions may shudder and complain — as they no doubt have — its proprietors must look on silently, concealing whatever emotions the incident may have generated. One of the highlights of the meeting was a public postur- ing, for photographic purposes, of Mr. Scott McBride, the general superintendent; Mr. S. P. McNaught, the Iowa (corn liquor) superintendent and Dr. M. P. Boynton, mem- ber of the national committee. In this event tinkling glasses of ice water are held aloft as a challenge to vice. The dominant personality in the group is Mr. McBride. Perhaps it is only the persistence of some barbaric in stinct, but the raising of the tinkling glass of ice water as toast — aside entirely from hoisting it as a challenge — leaves us with a feeling slightly reminescent of the high seas in a storm. But this ritual, as performed by Mr. McBride, who is of decidedly robust physical proportions, with facial lineaments that would not deny an allegation of many and not too successful years in the prize ring, is distinctly painful. This incident suggests that the Anti-Saloon League, in consideration of its earnestly striven for objectives, should eliminate the public drinking of ice water as well. THE descending red arrow on the Kirk Soap Building got itself explained one evening recently when a bibulous gentleman ambled northward onto the Michigan Avenue Bridge. A freezing down river wind met him at the south bridge-head. He took a few steps and he was chilled. Half way across the bridge, he was frigid. "No wonder it feels cold," remarked the stroller, his eye catching the descending arrow in red light, "Wow, lookit that thermometer drop!'1 THE queue of petitioners for damages against the Chicago surgeon who specializes in plastic operations on account of results not contemplated in the pros pectus has been lengthened by the addition of the first masculine claimant. The reactions of a Chicago jury, always an interesting and frequently a surprising phenomenon, are likely to be particularly arresting when this case of a male person, seek ing financial compensation because of the lack of cosmetic satisfaction, comes up for hearing. If it is the typical Chicago jury, not that Chicago juries like to convict, but if it is such a group as one may usually observe in the veniremen's rooms, there will be an inclina tion at least to find both parties guilty of something. ¦ — MARTIN J. QUIGLEY. 8 TMECUICAGOAN a — the oxford with insets of ¦woven leather . . . in white or beige. 12.50 b — the le touquet oxford. . . ¦white suede in pierced pattern, combined with beige kid. 18.50 c — this polkadot sandal is a barefoot fashion for day or night . . . in bright or pastel shades of kid . . . in gold or silver kid. 18.50 d — a barefoot boy sandal to wear with either frocks or beach pajamas ...in two tones of kid. 14.00 barefoot fashions by saks-fiftli avenue we learned about this engaging modern vogue lrom the vounger set at newport first a tennis fashion, the younger set at newport IasliK Jll it has now become an evening lashion - - - originally worn in trie country, it has now come to new york! — and the kid-lined sandals wexhave created especially lor this vocue assure oareioot comlort as well as chic. this vogue assure 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. mtCUICAGOAN "Yours of the fifteenth received, and would say — " Speaking of the Market Where Profits Are Both With and Without Honor in Their Own Country By LOREN CARROLL JUST how it all came about I can't begin to say. Oh, there are rea sons to be sure. Reasons full of subtle insinuations, reasons bristling with cer titude. (When in doubt be logical.) We were a happy people once upon a time, we Americans. We had our mah jongg, visits from European royalty, hatchet murderesses, traffic whistles, Sophie Tucker's jokes, exhibition of Swedish pewter. Some of them we have still. Who gives them any heed? The Afghanistans are at war. Madame Laurencin is still painting in Paris, Mr. Antheil is still denting finger bowls with pitch forks. Per haps the pewter has gone back to Sweden. We look up with hostile eyes. Again we look down — at the ticker tape, at the narrow strip of white paper with the symbolistic mark ings. The machine has wooed us from our old complacency. Twenty-five years ago when putting out the cat and winding the alarm clock were more or less of a nightly sacra ment, when our national Burgerlichkeit was more in evidence, father might well have slept with a tin "strong box" un der his pillow. If that tin box con tained a bond or mortgage, father con sidered himself something of a dare devil. Today all that is changed. Playing the stocks has become one of the na tional pastimes. One of the national obsessions, one might say. The ticker mania has spread to all classes of soci' ety. No one need be surprised if the washerwoman halts her rinsing opera tions long enough to sprint to the tele phone and place an order to "sell fifty Anaconda at the market." If the muf fins are burned, Antoinette must have been called for more margin. More fantastic examples have been cited, y OVER the bridge tables, at the con certs, in the factories, in the shops the subject has assumed pre-emi nence. Cousin Hortense no longer bores the world with her Brazilian par rot. She now has her American Can. ("And I thought I'd die, my dear, ,when it slumped five points on Thurs day.") Uncle Timothy forgets to di vest himself of his musical erudition at the opera: Instead of Brunhilde's shamelessly fat legs we get tips from "the cousin of the vice-president" on Imperial Knuckledusters, pfd. The market has supplanted opera tions, Peggy Hopkins Joyce, the weather, the baseball scores, Queen Marie, scandal about favorite scandal makers, the Sanitary District Payroll — supplanted them all as larynx exer cisers. The customers' rooms in the broker age houses were once havens for quiet, well behaved old gentlemen who watched the boards and occasionally tottered across the room to talk in a low voice to one of the solicitors. Visit one of the customers' rooms today! The chairs in many cases have been removed; you wade into the office knee deep in speculators of both sexes. The movie houses, the bargain base ments, the tea rooms and even the speakeasies have sacrificed the bright est of their clientele to supply the mur muring crowd about you. You may meet the janitor and the laundress. If not, they have probably placed their orders for Aluminum Pretzels over the telephone. Later in the afternoon they will listen to the quotations over the radio. NOT long ago I purchased a pair of gloves in a department store from a young woman who was already 10 TWECI4ICAGOAN occupied with more serious matters. The conversation (or shall I call it the monolgue?) went as follows: "Yes, sir, just a minute. Well, I tell you, Mamie, I don't care what they say, I'm going to hang on to my Gales- burg Coulter. That's the only kind we have, sir. There's going to be a merger or something and I'll be sitting pretty. They say Bendix is a good buy, too. Yes, they're washable. My cousin has some inside dope. No, you don't need to make allowances. They're washed already. Did you get a quote on American Smelting yet? No? I'm not so hot on that. Yes, sir, six dollars. Go and call them up. Cash or charge?" The American language is slowly absorbing the jargon of the exchange. Who could illustrate it better than the young damsel who complained to her mother as they emerged from the Congress : "I'll go to her tea with you, Mother, but I tell you I'm not bullish on the idea." f The prophets wag their heads and yearn for the happy days when sooth saying was a reputable trade. There are portentous references to "strin gency in money" and "discounting the future." But these questions trouble the common speculator not at all. His confidence in the ticker tape as a catalyst is profound and abiding. ONE of the shrewdest stock specu lators this country has ever kno&n once yielded to an altruistic impulse. Altruistic, I say, because he was able to translate his intuition into coherent words and forget for the moment, the cant and humbuggery that are inevitably associated with "success interviews." Not that our nabob abstained en tirely from glittering generalities. He had much to say about "hard work," "self sacrifice," and "the necessity for buying and selling stocks at the psychological moment." "But," protested one of the listen ers (he was young enough to muddle Mammon with Logic) "what is the psychological moment for selling?" "When market articles begin to ap pear on the front page of the news papers," said Mammon's voice, "that's the danger signal. Then the public is in good and strong and it's the time to sell." Meanwhile the prophets thunder on. With their remarkable talents for obfuscation they have translated the traditions of fifty years into immutable laws. Thus they blather on while Mandy leaves her rinsing and Antoinette lets the muffins to burn. Poetic Acceptances Edna St. Vincent Millay Accents the Inevitable and No Royalties from Members of the School of Clever Verse Oh, oh, you will be sorry for the lines That you have gently lifted from my verse. And there can be no penalties nor fines, Because you change the words and make it worse. You think you're sleek and crafty to get by And that another will not recognize A borrowed line or phrase, and will not try To trace it, for it wears a smart dis guise. But I shall worry not. I'll buy a hat And purse my eyes, or what is it I do? I'll take it as a compliment and that Is more than any one should ask of you. So I accept the situation knowing That I can always make a decent show ing. — DONALD PLANT. ENGLISH WITHOUT A DOUBT WHEN TO "TO" AND "AND" (With ¦ nod to Mr. Wallaea Rlea and Thm Chicago Sunday Tribuna) By A. H. Peron 44 I AM going home and beat up the wife," said a friend, as he was boarding the 1 Twentieth Century for New York. "You are going home to beat up your wife," I corrected amiably. "Hell, don't I know what I'm going home for?" he thundered. You can't argue with a man in that condition. However, I insist that he was going home to beat up his wife, and not going home and beat her up. The two things don't mean the same. My friend's case was clear. While on business in Chicago, rumor had reached him that the refrigerator at home had been torn from its moorings, and was at present lying sus piciously idle in the spare room. Furthermore, huge hunks of ice were daily finding their way into the ice-box. That damned ice-man was back again. The hound! You see it is quite clear. My friend was going home for the specific purpose of beating up his wife. If he were not going to beat up his wife, he would not be going home yet. As the beating, structurally speaking, is more important than the going home, it is impera tive to use "to." The other — "going home and beat up the wife" — implies something quite different. In the first place, the statement does not sound savage, as does the first. It suggests neither anger, nor haste. It rings not of suspicion, nor jealousy. Can't you imagine a man after a hard and fruitful day at the office, swiveling back in his chair, his arms almost stretching out of their sockets above his head, growling to himself with a satisfied yawn — "Well, I guess I'll go home and beat up the wife?" You see the difference? He is going home anyway. That is the important thing. The beating up is of secondary importance, entirely dependent upon his going home. Just an afterthought, perhaps. Something that will break up the general monotony of things. He won't burst open the door when he gets home, like the other mad bull. Of course not. He'll kiss his wife as usual, have his dinner in leisure, smoke his pipe, and read the evening paper. Then when the wife suggests: "How about a little game of bridge with the Joneses, my dear?" — he'll reply with a bright smile: "No, Lysbeth, I've got a better idea for to-night.'' I hope I have made the difference between the two cases perfectly clear. In case I haven't, I'll have one more try. Let us take these two examples: "Go and chase yourself," and "Go to chase yourself." In the first case, the thought uppermost in the mind of the person addressing you, is that you go. In the process of going, and while you are on your way, he suggests (and it is only a suggestion, mind you) that you chase yourself. Should you encounter any diffi culties in chasing yourself, you are not obliged to doiit. Let it be understood, however, that your inability must not serve as an excuse for your not going. First and foremost you must go. In the second instance, it is essential that you chase yourself. That is the only reason for your going. If you can't chase yourself, don't go. Stay to (no, not "and") practice chasing yourself, until you have thoroughly mastered the art. Only then may you leave. Is this quite clear now? If it isn't, go — chase yourself! THE CHICAGOAN n Page One The Truth About the Hanging in the Erlanger By MEYER LEVIN SCEJ^E: The press-room in the criminal courts building. On the walls are mottoes such as "God Is Love," "For Country, Home, and Sacco and Vanzetti," "Tour Own Children May Read It—Thin\ Before Tou Write." The curtain leaps up. Fifteen report' ers are discovered in various uncom* fortable attitudes beneath the tables and chairs. Each reporter is holding a telephone. During the entire action of the play, no reporter lets go of his tele* phone. They tal\ to each other, as well as to outside parties, only through these phones. Reporter: Here, you molasses-eat ing son of a Tasmanian pickle-worm, is your sour-cream and Kahnspotatoes little wifey, she, holy kingfisher of antedeluvian monasteries, wants, by the beard of a Proznivotchkan chipmunk, to— Reporter (Rolls over and goes to sleep): Hullo dearie, you little Abys sinian nose-ring. No, I can't come home and play bridge. Darling, you don't understand. The station cat is going to have kittens. No, I can't leave for a minute. The show must go on. I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll call up Walter Burns and tell him to send our bridge expert over to be fourth hand. I tell you it's the biggest story in the world. But lisssen — Reporter: Hullo. Walter? Listen, you wall-eared imitation of a dog-fish, I'd give my life for you, you've got to help me out. Get ahold of this guy Work. Work. Work. He works for us. He plays bridge. Walter's Voice: Holy Carribean Archimedes, after all I done for you, you walk out on the greatest story in the world. If, dribble-mouthed Arabian gum-glubber — Reporter: Send him to my wife. (Walter Burns and reporters wife rush into the room and begin to play two-handed bridge. They pic\ up tele' phones and call across the table to each other.) Walter : Spades. Wife : Diamonds. Walter: Spades. Wife : Diamonds. Reporters: Dr. Egglehoffer Eins- bratten, noted specialist from Vienna, brought to Chicago by the Mothers' and Daughters' Aid for Orphan Ani mals, examined the kitty at 3 a. m. and predicted that she would give birth to seven kittens at dawn. This is in di rect conflict with the opinions of other specialists, who have announced that the number of kittens would not ex ceed five. Walter: Work, Work. Listen, alphabet soup you Arcadian elephant driver, I don't care if you've been try ing to make a grand slam for a hun dred years, come over here and take care of this bridge fiend while I steal the station cat. Reporter: How are we going to get her out? Reporters : Trying to scoop us are you? (They all go to sleep.) Walter: Get a bag. Reporter: Somebody is sure to let the cat out of the bag. Ha. Ha. Other Reporter: Here you mut ton-blubbering Zeppelin-rider. (Gives reporter a bag.) Walter: Get the idea. Greatest story of the age. "Station Cat Drowned as She Is About to Have Kittens." Boy, what a story! Reporter: Hey, Walter, the cat is gone. Walter: Mayonaisse, piccallilly, Horseradish, pfeffernussl Wife: I've called everybody in town and I simply can't get a fourth hand! Reporter: Darling, you don't un derstand. It's the biggest story of the age. Something has to be done. Ah, Walter, I've got an idea. Listen. Where's that bag? Gimme that bag. I'll get inside of it myself. Throw me in the river. Say it was the cat. No- body'll know the difference. The play must go on. My god what a scoop! Walter: Here, take my suspend ers to remember me by. You're the greatest little newspaperman there ever was. (Throws Reporter out the wiw dow. He is heard plopping into the river, conveniently below. Walter lies down on the windowsill and goes to sleep. The Reporter's Wife plays soli' taire.) Reporters (opening their eyes): Goddamn. (They close their eyes again. ) 'He lacks a certain something, if you know what I mean' 12 TI4ECWICAG0AN "Honey, have you included doctors' and dentists' expenses in the family budget?" Of course, dearest — it's under pleasure." Reciprocity In Which a Play Critic Succumbs to the Playwright NO bands played while they shot it out in the new gunplay, "Gang land," which opened last night to as select an audience as ever faced a po lice sergeant. It is the last word in racket plays, and the most realistic in the matter of profanity. In fact your reviewer is a @@*!! — xx?! if he doesn't think this — d d play doesn't go just a little bit too far. It's about time that some of these xx-x — !!! pro ducers learned that there is a limit to what the public will stand,**** it! It must be admitted that Michael Eccart gives a hell of a good perform ance as the bootleg king, and that Judy Saddler is damn convincing as the fal len woman. But John Mallick is lousy throughout, and as for that who takes the part of the de tective, your reviewer would like- well, ##@**?-!! it, never mind! After all the good old x-x-x-x — !@@s of the olden times like Aristotle and Sophocles weren't a bunch of • fools when they insisted on a certain amount of decorum. The trouble today is that most of these simple ?*@@!xxx — s who think they can write plays don't know the dif ference between realism and reality, prudishness and decorum, and force- fulness and vulgarity. I am so disgusted that I feel like quit ting. It all reminds me of the lousy story about a !!@@# !! who came to a farm house and wanted to stay over night. Well — (Editor's Note: We are forced to intercede.) — PARKE CUMMINGS. Annual Report Of the Average Family THE gross earnings of the Average Family for the fiscal year ended Dec. 30, 1928, were $6,431.32. Ex penses in the same period were $6,- 328.91, leaving a net income, after ex penses and all charges, of $142.01. Cash on hand or in banks at the close of the fiscal year just previous was $433.77, so that the Family should have a surplus, in cash, of $575.78. There seems to be some mistake here, how ever, as the bank claims the Family's balance is only $221.06. As in years past, when discrepancies of this sort have arisen, we shall charge this differ ence to Profit and Loss. The Head of the Family is gratified to report that earnings in the year just closed were larger than in any previous year in the Family's history. He wishes to point out also, however, that ex penses were also larger than ever be fore, so that net income was only a very little larger than in the previous year, and $3.88 smaller than in the fiscal year ended June 30, 1926. The Head of the Family respectfully urges that each member of the Family do his best this year to economize wherever possible. The outlook for the future is good. The Head of the Family expects an other increase in retainer this year, which should materially expand the Family's earnings. Furthermore, the Family should have materially reduced fixed charges this year, the car and radio now being completely paid for. This leaves only the electric refrigerator and the sewing machine on which pay ments are still to be made. The Head of the Family will firmly resist pro posals to undertake any other com mittments on the installment plan this year. "The thanks of the Head of the Family for their sterling services dur ing the year just passed are extended to all the members of the Family." This statement is made here because it is al ways made in annual reports; but don't think you have fooled anybody! — JOHN C. EMERY. Rates of Exchange Post-Christmas 1. Four gilded shoe trees equal one pair of hose. 2. One phonograph record, "The Song of the Vagabonds," equals one Harlem orchestra record. 3. Two bowls of dead lily-bulbs equal one bunch of violets. 4. One handsome, leather-bound copy of "Evangeline" equals one copy of McGuffy's Fourth Reader or what ever it is Junior uses next term. 5. One dainty paper weight and two hand-painted slipper cases equal one substantial pair of pliers. 6. Three enameled coat hangers and one brace of button hooks equal one dozen fuses. 7. One de luxe holiday edition of the "Rubaiyat" equals one box of use able stationery. 8. One lovely chintz laundry bag equals three typewriter ribbons. 9. One darling toothbrush container and four cartons of cigarets equal two cartons of cigarets. 10. One "Hot Rolls" (liar) cover equals one dust cloth. — d. c. p. THE CHICAGOAN 13 Chicago Clubs; An Inquiry V. — T he Harvard-Y ale-Princeton Club By WILLIAM C. BOYDEN, JR. A VISITING financier in search of in- > formation on the investment bank ing business in Chicago would probably haunt the Chicago, Attic or Mid-day Clubs, but in such Olympian realms he would only touch the generalities, the vast superstructure of competitive buying, syndicates, wholesaling, merg ers and what not. He would do better to visit the Harvard- Yale-Princeton Club, for here he would find the con crete mixers, the brick-layers, the rivet ers of the bond business, the boys with ruddy (I almost said "pink") cheeks, bright eyes, Brooks suits, who can tell you more vociferously, more sincerely and sometimes more plaintively than could J. P. Morgan or Otto Kahn just the Present State of the Bond Business. But the bond salesmen, while a ma jority, are not all that lunch among that agreeable camaraderie of youth. Perhaps the serious young man at the next table, frowning so judicially, is the perspiration and midnight oil be hind some brilliant plea of a leader of the bar. Or mayhap the bespectacled, slightly bald dignitary in the corner has just come from his first appendectomy or accouchement and feels that at least he has touched Life. Harvard, Yale, Princeton! Can you pick them out one from another? Are the debonair, curly-headed blondes all from Princeton, the spare-jawed, dark supermen all from Yale, the effete Eng lish accents all from Harvard? I dare you to try! Max Mason tried two years ago at a club luncheon where he was guest of honor, and guessed one right out of eight. NO, it is not easy to sort out this pot-pourri of well dressed, suave young gentlemen, and that is perhaps the most interesting thing about the club. It has solved a problem of as similation, and in doing so has filled the very real need of a very real club for the very real young men who come out of the affiliated colleges and want this sort of thing. Where else can it be found? Obviously not at the Univer sity Club, Chicago Club or C. A. A., with their stupendous waiting-lists. Obviously not at the Y. M. C. A. or Postl's Gym. And such was the place in the sun which the founders of the H-Y-P envisioned in 1924, when the club was founded. It seems so simple now to say "founded," but it was no easy task that faced the men, who after years of futile "committee talk," finally de cided it should be done. Money was not plentiful for such an enterprise; building prices were sky-high. A ready-made club seemed out of the question, until Kent Clow of Yale, the "We have surpassed the Uni versity Club as a locus for bachelors' farewells to celibacy." 14 TI4ECI4ICAGOAN 'But, Mr. Spiffle, I AM a modern woman.' 'Dearie, you are positively cubistic." Club's first president, to whom more than to anyone else it owes its success, found in the eerie, cobwebby, dust- laden quarters of the defunct Automo bile Club on Plymouth Court, a place where we might take root. Support ing Clow were the stalwart Princeton end, Sam White, of lamented memory at New Haven, and Cambridge; Don McClure of Harvard, and many others. By sheer force and awkwardness money was raised; cleaners, painters and dec orators installed; squash courts built; John Perkins, of early Chicago Club training, employed as steward; and in November, 1924, the club opened. WE have never had a great deal to offer from a material stand point — no tiled swimming pools, no barber shops, no gymnasiums — just a nice dining room where good food is served as cheaply as the dues and our bondholders will allow; a couple of reg ulation squash-racquet courts, where such good players as Jim Douglas, Dex ter Cummings, Lou Hardin, Bud Boy- den and Alex Kirk are wont to caper; a few bedrooms where discreet and moral young men reside until marriage and the suburbs call; and, last but not least, a comfortable, homey living room full of armchairs, Yale Records, Har vard Crimsons, Daily Princetonians and conversation. But it is a club, not a semi-exclusive hotel. Every noon sees a hundred or more lunchers, and it is a very new member who is not on a basis of cheery greeting with at least half of those pres ent. Many sit at a long table running half the length of the dining room and discuss the famous three S's, Sport, Shop and Sex, although in fairness it must be stated that Sex does not get its fair portion in this essentially normal atmosphere. Around the walls are round tables seating about half a dozen. Although groups tend to gravi tate towards the same tables day after day, there have been no defined cliques, no "club tables" nor "clubs within a club." Scattered among the white hopes of La Salle Street will always be found some of the old alumni, whose money supplied in a large measure the initial capital for the club and who have been most loyal in their support. It is no strange sight to see Gish, Jr., Yale, 1928, proudly signing the check, as he entertains Gish, Sr., Yale, 1895. At eventide and dinner wives, sisters and sweethearts invade the club, not in great throngs as at The Tavern, but in just sufficient numbers to add a touch of color to that drab after-work feel ing. And old timers still talk in muted whispers of the night Macauley Carter, Princeton, 1923, entertained a promi nent leading lady from a regular loop play. THE club's extra-curriculum activi ties have included football din ners, with entertainment by Forgan and Tilden, "those Princeton Triangle Boys"; educational luncheons with sapience delivered by such eminent mentors of the young as Prof. James Weber Linn, Knute Rockne and Silas H. Strawn; football returns by wire, electrifying even the pall of smoke from two hundred cigarettes; and a frightfully smart dinner to the British Squash Racquet Team, when Oxford English unmasked the feeble preten sions of Harvard English. Of social functions not embracing the whole membership the ushers' din ner inevitably stands out from the dull routine of committee meetings and alumni functions. Truly, I believe we have surpassed the University Club as a locus for bachelors' farewells to celibacy — glorious, ribald saturnalias, attended by "Who will be Who in Chicago," watched over paternally by John Perkins, and culminating tradi tionally about the piano in "agony," to make the night a mockery for the in mates striving for a few honest winks. TME CHICAGOAN 15 Barbara ("Front Porch") Frietchie A Modernized V [NOTE: The following classic is recast and amended for parlor recitation (home, billard, or back parlor). Interpolations after the manner of Leonard Nason, Capt. Thomasson, Laurence Stallings, "Bugs" McArthur, Elliott White Springs, James Warner Bellah, et al. The work is to be read ALOUD. Couplets from the orig inal poem are to be delivered sweet and low, accompaniment hard and heavy. Let the band play "Dixie" with overtones from "Parlez Vous."] Up from the meadows rich with corn Clear in the cool September morn The clustered spires of Frederick stand Green'walled by the hills of Maryland. Round about them orchards sweep Apple and peach tree fruited deep A Confederate Scout: Now where the hell's that Fredericksburg pike? Fair as the garden of the Lord To the eyes of that famished rebel horde, Hey, you guys! This way. A e r s i o n in the War Booh Manner By GONF AL coupla miles nort'. (Enter the army.) Miles? Lissen at him. Is this a boy scout hike or a war? A coupla miles! How about a coupla meals? That's what I wanta know. On that pleasant morn of the early fall When Lee marched over the mountain wall Hey, close up there. Close it up now, and get that cadence. Is this an army or a bunch o' tramps? 1-2-3-4. Lookit them apples! Boy, that means applejack f'r us fightin' demo crats. Don't say applejack to me. I cer tainly had me a time back to that last burg. Fried as a goat. Close up, men. Hey, outta that orchard you. Outta that orchard. (Sotto voce) Aw button your nose. Lissen, one more crack out'n you men and you do close order drill for a month. Now get goin'. 1-2-3-4. Over the mountains winding down Horse and foot into Frederick town Hey, Buddy, what outfit's that? General Pickett's Division! SfL\\ (In chorus) NevER heard of it! NevEr heard of it! What damn town is this? How should I know; ast the Lieu tenant. Him and General Lee is buddies. Silence there, you men. HORSE COLLAR! By God, Soldier, I'll have your stripes. Aw button your nose. Forty flags with their silver stars Forty flags with their crimson bars What I want, Guy, is a saloon. "Oh she jumped in bed and covered up her head Tee dah turn turn tee dah da" Boys, Boys, tsk-tsk-tsk! Ta hell. De Y. M. C. A.! Flapped in the morning wind, the sun Of noon looked down and saw not one Them lousy Yanks pulled outta here 16 TUECI4ICAG0AN in a hurry. Yeah, not even a chicken coop left. Oi, and vat dose lowlifes did to mine oncle's clotink store in de last town. Oi! So I brung the Governor's wife back and collected the reward. And I know this M. P. so-and-so in his home town, see, so I got him told plenty. I says — Close up, men, close up. No talking in the ranks. Aw, Powder River! Up rose old Barbara Frietchie then Bowed with her four score years and ten It's a caution the way a war musses things up, I declare. Bravest of all in Frederick town She too\ up the flag the men hauled down I tell you a girl ain't safe with soldiers. And this young generation don't want to be safe neither. Such goings on, My Laws! In her attic window the staff she set To show that one heart was loyal yet I'll just run up this Yankee flag so's not to have 'em rampagin' in here all hours. Up the street came the rebel tread Stonewall Jac\son riding ahead. Snap into it, you men. Here's a general. 1-2-3-4. You, get that smile off'n your pan. 1-2-3-4. Ain't it hell, Mike? If it ain't a 30-day looie it's some brass hat mail order general. Why that bird John' son was teachin' in a kid school before the war. General Jackson, in a pig's eye. Hey, lookit de old gal in de window givin' Stonewall de eye! Under his slouched hat left and right He glanced; the old flag met his sight "Halt!" — the dust brown ran\s stood fast. "Fire!" — out blazed the rifle blast. (Missed Barbara by fifteen feet.) It shivered the window, pane and sash It rent the banner with seam and gash. Quic\, as it fell from the bro\en staff, Dame Barbara snatched the sil\en scarf. "Shoot if you must this old gray head, But spare your country's flag," she said. Shoot it all, Grandma. You're faded, General. Hey, lady, how's this? (The Greek cook rushes forward waving a side of bacon.) A shade of sadness, a blush of shame Over the face of the leader came. Colonel, present Captain Such-and- Such with General Jackson's compli ments, and ask him where the hell his mangy outfit learned to shoot! "Who touches a hair of yon gray head Dies li\e a dog! (And, Captain, what in the devil are your god-forsaken conscripts gawking at. Get 'em out o' here.) March on!" he said. All day long through Frederic\ street Sounded the tread of marching feet. That's the break you get from the regular army. Nice guys. Bums be fore the war. Move on, you men, you got your orders. Orders, orders. Who's fightin' this war, men or orders? Pipe down in the ranks, will you. 1-2-3-4. Outta that saloon, youse, outta that saloon. Corporal, I'll have every man in that squad in the brig till 1963. What's your name? AW, BUTTON YOUR NOSE! Snap outta it, Gang. 1-2-3-4. Move on. "Corporal, I'll have every man in that squad in the brig 'till 1963!" AlLDAYLOMG THROUGH FREDERICK 5TPEET - TWtCWICAGOAN 17 Adventures In Insomnia I. IN THE FIRST PLACE OUT south, where the dingy store fronts of a poverty belt are sensibly enlivened by a joyous admix ture of pool rooms, barbecue stands and undertaking parlors, and where crowds are gleeful and African and lively and given to street car excursions apparently for the dubious joy of a slam-bang ride — out south, the night- liver rejoices in the Black and Tan. The Black and Tan, simply a club which caters impartially to white and colored patrons, is a hugely publicized segment, small in itself, of the bright light spectrum. Largest of colored places is the new Sunset, a revival of the older club. which had its difficulties with Prohibi tion gentlemen some months back. Jammed from back wall to dance floor the Sunset can seat exactly 424 per' sons. Club Apex, perhaps more highly approved socially, is smaller. It seats about 175. There are, besides, a few hole-in-the-wall refuges, harassed and uncertain of tenure, but they swell the total very slightly. A good night, and perhaps 700 goers-out (insignificant as night numbers count) partake of Afric freedom. Yet the Black and Black and Tan By FRANCIS C. COUGHLIN Tan note is insistent as a tom-tom. Well, for one thing, the mixed club is naughty, adventuresome, gaudy and foreign. More recently — after a num ber of literary lights have ascended to Harlem and come away speaking in tongues and chanting spirituals — the mixed club is discovered to be a cul tural influence. (Hooey!) And principally the mixed club is a loud note because it is frolicsome and merry, and late and raucous and extremely informal. Something of the negro's capacity to have a splendidly uninhibited good time seems to com municate itself to white patrons. Fi nally, the refined and the vulgar of both races mix at Black and Tan places to mutual enjoyment of both, and this last perverse phenomenon has nothing whatever to do with color. II. IN THE SECOND PLACE AT 2 o'clock the Sunset, 315 East i\ 35th, is under way with a screeching head of steam, Charley Ed gar's Melody Boys, who play indiffer ently well in ensemble, discover a troupe of agile soloists as the band warms to its labors. Professor Jazsbo, first cornet, is particularly fervid. A brass burble with a jelly-like tremor to it, and the whole in deep blue, is Jaw bo's favorite note. He evokes it in a kind of mystic rapture and it domi nates the rest of the orchestra. It slides from cornet to trombone and eases into the saxes; the banjo pelts after it; the piano repeats in chords. On the floor, dancers catch up something of the pro fessor's rapture. Dancers are a mixed lot at Sunset. Watching from a floor-side table one sees the bob and jiggle of elderly men, a jerky step, the left arm held stiffly out from the side and moving like a pump handle; one sees, too, the easy, collegiate, gliding step — hip-to-hip dancing, and its stenographic variant, done brow-to-cheek. And one sees the truck driver amble, a ponderous and frequently off -rhythm parade executed by a formidable couple none too strong on grace but mighty in locomotion and indifferent to direction. The floor show is suddenly on in a flood of light. Slick White, master of ceremonies, introduces performers with UEC 18 TWECUICAGOAN a dusky flourish. The chorus is tan, tawny, "yaller" — much lighter than the orchestra which is well pigmented. A colored lady plays a miniature piano. A song about "Baby." "Baby" enters, drawn in a toy wagon. A strapping young black, casually smoking a cigar. Patrons howl in glee. "Baby. Get it? Baby, why that guy's as big as I am! Baby. Haw haw." Night club humor is not disguised. No deep stuff. SLICK WHITE sings, a rich, mel low voice. And loud. Plenty loud. Then, Teddy Peterson. Perhaps Miss Peterson weighs less than 250 pounds. And she may be five feet four inches tall. But certainly she is tremendous around. She discovers a diverting stunt. Standing at one end of the dance floor, Teddy has a quick eye for a dollar. Let a gentleman daintily place a dollar bill on the other end and Teddy will run for it, gath ering momentum which is abruptly taken up in a gargantuan seat fall. Bis! Bis! Encore. Bravissima! Oh swell! Even Charley Porter, the huge headwaiter, smiles. A white couple, announced as world's champion fox-trotters, take the spot. The dance is feverish, in tricate, unjoyous, frantic. Yet patrons applaud. Again a colored revue and what is very much like the naughty cooch dance, done by a dusky gal in a brief white skirt. .More applause. A request for dance numbers to be played by the orchestra. A yammer of sug gestions. Over the yammer one deep bass shout: "Hey, Charley, Where the shy little violets grow!" Over the cabaret din, the negro or chestra plays about the shy little violets. III. IN THE THIRD PLACE CLUB APEX, upstairs at 330 East 35 th, is late but not noticeably loud. It is, so to speak, Heaven-kissed, because Society has taken it up and fashionable people appear there. It is, moreover, reasonably discreet, well 'Gotta dime, Buddy — / used to be an admiral, myself" mannered and mildly pleasant. A long room with a dance floor and an orches tra at one end, draperies in scarlet and gray, the Peacock Room for private parties off to the right and very cour teous service at the hands of deft wait ers. It is more intimate than the Sun set, and much less raucous. It has, too, the Harlem touch about it, so that it is at ease with white folks, tolerant of them. Jimmy Noone's band, too, records for a phonograph house and so is rec ognized; it should be; it is an excellent dance band. We talk with W. H. George, the manager; it is an amiable and some what desultory conversation about night clubs in general, entertainers, so ciety people, the district, the success and failure of various places and some of the vexations of a club manager's job. Business always falls off during the winter holidays, except, of course, for the skyrocket of New Year's. Yet all in all, business has been good. Nice people. Smooth going. Good prospects. TONIGHT the Apex is quiet. Not too many people at its tables. The band coasting along with rhythms embroidered by Hill and Duff, piano and sax. Marion Harrison sings; she is fa vored of society, is Marion. A choice for an occasional concert in one or an other of the great houses along the drive. The song is a current tinsel from Broadway. One would rather hear Marion in a negro piece. Abruptly she goes into her dance, a stamping, weaving pattern done with long, shapely legs so suddenly revealed by the lifting of her ball-room dress as to be almost shocking. Legs, one notes, like a fighter's legs, the long calf for speed, the supple, plated thigh for strength. J. H. E. Clark is busy with his sketch pad. The song over, the or chestra croons a bit. The ham and egg sandwich is a masterpiece. The coffee good, clear, odorous, strong. Musing a while on the black faces of waiters and entertainers, random thoughts en ter the mind. The black face is kindly, at ease usually, and secretly reserved even behind its laugh in a kind of casual dignity. The white face has been called cruel, hawklike. It is not cruel, I think. It is merely intent, curious, a little ruthless. But strangely, when these whites laugh they lose poise. Perhaps, after all, people go to col ored places to lose poise. TWE CHICAGOAN 19 CHICAGOAN'/ TOWN TALK 1933 THERE will be some heartbreaks before this World's Fair of 1933 is finished and done with. It's no secret that the diadem of social queen of Chicago, which was firmly planted upon the brow of the late Mrs. Potter Palmer by her prominence as the city's hostess during the 1893 exposition, has been gathering dust while a lot of Chi cago dowagers contended for it. Social leaders and leaders of cliques have arisen, but since Mrs. Palmer's day no one has held the crown undisputed. So it's reasonable to expect that the woman who is named hostess for the 1933 affair will ascend to the throne which Mrs. Palmer gained when she acted as hostess to royalty, the world and his wife who came here to see the, sights. Oh Pioneers MESTROVIC'S horses, as yet blanketed on the Lakefront, and under suspicion of not being Indian ponies, proved at least Indian in spirit when one of them achieved a tidy campfire under his blanket. A paleface fire department was im mediately on the scene to douse the blaze. In fine American allegory, how ever, a handful of intrepid pioneers preceeded organized civilization. These pioneers rolled out from beneath the very tepees of the redskin warriors and beat at the fire with their hands. Un gratefully — and also in tradition — the fire department dispersed these valiant few. The pioneers were a half dozen bums, until the contemporary Chicago fire, well sheltered under canvas cover ing for a cold winter. With no further comment, we pass this allegory on to Carl Sandburg. Gustatory THAT a herring well-spiced may contend in appeal with silver and hand woven tapestries is the present conclusion of Tage and Mrs. Palm, who were brought here last year from Sweden through the influence of Mr. Carl De Dardell, the Swedish consul. With the worthy aim of interesting Americans in the hand crafts of his motherland, Mr. De Dardell and several prominent Swedish- Americans made it possible for the Palms to open a Swedish arts and crafts shop on East Ohio Street. An old building was re modeled until it is one of the most charming spots downtown. Mrs. Palm, to put her time to good account, opened a little luncheon place in one corner of the arts and crafts building. She gives employment to Swedish girls newly arrived in Amer ica. Now the business of the cafe is booming. Guests will gase at an ex quisite hand woven rug hung upon the wall and murmur reverently, "Aren't these herrings divine?" MRS. E. R. FIFIELD, who learned a lot about business while she was chairman of the building commit tee of the Illinois Women's Athletic Club, is planning to turn her knowl edge to good account by starting a real estate firm, with Lawrence Whiting's mother as partner. They may call the company the Women's Real Estate Syndicate. Collectors Item HOLDERS of Queen Marie ban quet programs, published and distributed by the Drake Hotel (lim ited edition) and signed by the sov ereign herself, are apprized that the value of this work has been established as being exactly equal to a similar pro gram, also limited, under the imprint of a Continental hotel and signed by Alphonso XIII of Spain. Though both items are rare, we are advised through The Chicagoan book department that they offer indifferent reader interest. Advances to the De Mille interests for cinema rights to the banquet scene are reported to be under way. Dawn WHEN Mr. Edwin Krenn awakens of a morning he can reach out and scratch a match upon a real Egyptian mummy, without lifting his head from the pillow — provided of course that Mr. Krenn is given to a cigarette the first thing in the morning In his suite at the Drake Hotel there is a real, authentic Egyptian mummy, in an age old mummy case, leaning against the wall next the four postered, canopied, red damask draped bed. The red note and the Egyptian note are not confined to the mummy and the bed in Mr. Krenn's menage. All the furniture is upholstered in red and the walls, the corners of the rooms, in fact all the space with the exception of a path about eight feet wide down the center of each room, are crowded with Egyptian objects of art. To break the monotony, a' Chinese note is injected now and then, but the Egyptian pre dominates. So many strange and wonderful objects are there that the eye is con fused. It's said that a curator would break down and weep at the collection — for reasons as varied as the objects. For Mr. Krenn's taste in Egyptian curios is wide and a thing doesn't have to be old and priceless and authentic to 20 TI4ECI4ICAGOAN get into his little living room museum. It must be Egyptian or Chinese, how ever, the red carpet and red upholstery only excepted. From his windows one can see only a sweep of the grey winter waters of Lake Michigan — and so the room seems remote and a world apart from the roaring upper avenue, a wall's thickness away. Ojiera THE Chicago Civic Opera becomes increasingly homelike, that is, its patrons order their affairs in the easy going manner of hearthside activities, at once removed from and unabashed -\X<- V by conventionalities long associated with opera. Only the other evening a mother and two grown daughters entered, bearing with them a long train of black cloth like a funeral pall, or an unwrapped bolt of sateen. This they spread on the floor before their seats, in it they de posited their wraps; the whole bundle they heeled nonchalantly under cover beneath them. Composed, the trio awaited the curtain. The splendid Wagnerian perform ance some two weeks before afforded an equally nonchalant sidelight. Again the group was a trio, tall handsome woman, two men. Opera in the German manner is long and resounding. At the end of "Oh, then may I just call you Professor?" the second act the trio left for a brief relaxation. They were back in plenty of time. Then, just before the cur tain, something passed between the two men. In the brief instant after the lowering of the lights and before the curtain rise, the second man raised that something to his lips and took a hearty swig. An undeniable perfume of gin suffused upon the chaste opera air. Undismayed by a possible and dread ful symbolism, the drinker settled back to hear the curdling scream of the Valkyrs. K. & D. THE problem of keeping the help happy and contented has been solved by the real estate firm of Krenn and Dato. Every year the employes of the firm are guests at a big Christmas dinner party. There are place cards, soft lights and party favors at one of the best hotels and Mr. Krenn and Mr. Dato give little talks that make the help forget they work for commissions or any other reward except the joy of working. Last year the better side of the busi ness life was brought forcefully home to the guests when Mrs. Rockefeller McCormick, whose properties are handled by the firm, appeared on a balcony above the diners in a banquet hall at the Drake and gave a little intimate talk, the general thought being, "Love and good will are the basis of fortune." The Dog A CERTAIN Dog— to begin in the Aesop manner — was owned by a kind and compassionate master. The Dog was in no striking manner differ ent from other dogs except that it was of a fierce breed found in the German forests, and it so chanced that at this time many beasts of a like breed were owned in the province so that even that was a minor distinction. Yet the dog was loved by its master, who was a wealthy citizen of the Equestrian order. And, to say the truth, the ani mal returned his master's affection with complete devotion, so that it was a creature of great faithfulness, probity, and decorum. Now it so chanced that in the mas ter's quarters, being crowded with his family, his kinfolk and his slaves, there remained no room for the faithful Dog. And daily his wife, an evil woman and THE CHICAGOAN 21 'Now, my dear, do let ME treat! Remember, I have a husband' a shrew, desired her lord to put the Dog away. This the master would not do. Yet it fell out that because of the woman's nagging both Dog and master were unhappy. "Ah," said the master to his four- footed friend one day, "when there is bickering in the home and among kin- folk, then indeed is an evil time." "Be not dismayed, My Master," said the Dog, "but get me an apartment." This the master instantly did. THE Dog now occupies a one-room furnished apartment solely for himself in a north side apartment hotel. He is privileged to sleep on the daven port or on the rugs if he so chooses. A maid who cares for the children of a master's friend in the Dog's hotel drops in to feed the animal. Its master calls frequently and the two enjoy lakeside strolls together. To date word has not been received of the master's wife and her opinions. Refinements in dog-keeping, too, are reported from another north side apart ment house, the Whitehall. In this hotel lives a pup who is exercised daily by his owner. On chill days the pup wears a blanket. On rainy days he is given the run of Delaware Place in four tiny and specially fitted rubbers. Conductor A USER of the "L" vouches for this discovery. An Evanston Express conductor he finds to be an extremely well dressed man. (Possibly.) More over, this conductor is excessively cour teous. (Cheers.) In addition, he in variably calls the name of each "L" station and names the station preced ing. (Cries of No! No!) Also, sta tions are announced in a clear, resonant and understandable voice. (Ahhhh.) And furthermore, correctly pronounced. (Cries of Liar! You go too far! Shame! etc.) And last, this conductor displays an eye-taking, resplendent pair of pearl gray spats! (Somehow this last note carries conviction.) Traffic FOLLOWS a verbatim account of holiday courtesies between drivers and pedestrians as reported by a dis criminating listener with a nice ear for the dramatic. Case 1. The driver of a coal truck at Wabash and Monroe: "Heads up, Gentlemen; Heads up, please!" Case 2. The driver of an elegant limousine (happily glassed off from his employers) to the crowd at State and Monroe: "Get ta hell outta the way, and let a man through." And last, to restore a most delicate balance — Case 3. A traffic officer at Clark and Madison: "Now Folks, don't crowd. There's plenty of time for everybody before the red light." Dress ERE'S a helpful suggestion for careful people who are conscien tious about being seen in the proper place and who have been hungering H 22 THE CHICAGOAN for a really smart place to dine. At last there is one restaurant in town where only full dress is acceptable after sundown. The new urban cafe is that known simply as "900," at 900 North Michigan avenue. The full dress rule is no mere Satur day night rule but an every day in the week mandate. One may lunch and have tea in the informal, or as you like it, but after sundown, full dress or no come in. . . . It's a little touching to find that since 900 opened not a table has been vacant a single night. The cafe offers such a relief to those who want to be sure that while dining they are surrounded by our very, very best people. T/-< . Scoofi THE kind of newspaper scoop which time develops into a shining journalistic epic came with the sur render of Joe Saltis. A city editor of the American sat with Mr. Saltis, in the Saltis home, while Joe made his final depositions be fore turning himself over to the author ities. Acting on a tip, a J^ews reporter scurried out to the scene and paused before the Saltis door. Presently a law yer came out. "No need going in there," advised the man of law, "the city editor of the American is in there already." Very shortly a hurrying marshal en tered. The ?iews reporter spent a nickel at the nearest phone booth. Consequently, while the American man sat with the supposedly exclusive story in his lap the "News edition went on the street. The T^ews reporter was Enoch John son. The American city editor, Harry Read. N. S. F. GEORGE M. REYNOLDS of the Continental and Commercial National Bank (after January 1, Con tinental Illinois Bank and Trust Com pany) is reported in a conversation with his barber in the Continental building. "I am," announced Mr. Reynolds, "looking for the barber who told me twenty-five years ago that I would be bald." "You wish," inquired the head chiro- tonsor, "a treatment?" "No," replied Mr. Reynolds, "he is an excellent barber. I wish a hair cut." In default of a recorded reply by the luckless barber we supply: "N. S. F." and translate, "Not Sufficient Fun." I Confess 'Ok, my — getting married must be thrilling' Why I'm Tending Toward Becoming a Strong Silent Man "Yeah? Well, who are you voting for? What, you've never registered? Well, you're a fine one to talk about politics." "You think so? You don't believe everything you read in the papers, do you?" "My dear, of course I'm right. I mean I \now I am. I can tell by in tuition, you silly." "Just a minute. Just a minute. Have you ever been in Russia?" "Yes, but after all, that's only one side of the question." "Perhaps, perhaps. But it seems to me that he's been at the job long enough to know what he's doing." "I think that when you're as old as I am you'll change your views on the subject." "What you say may be the truth but after all I'd rather go on believing as I do." "I'm afraid you're a bit prejudiced." "Yes, but in itself that's only a half truth." "You're full of bologney!" — PARKE CUMMINGS. THE CHICAGOAN 23 CHICAGOAN/ IF Jarvis Hunt were one hundred and ten years old and endowed with the vitality of four or five men, he might have been able to do most of the things with which popular fancy credits him. If he lives another hundred years he may be able to do most of the things he dreams of and plans. Whatever he has done and no mat ter whether he ever does anything again, Chicago and the West for years will show monuments to his genius, the latest of which is the building bearing his name at the corner of Delaware Place and Upper Michigan avenue. The building, which combines shops and apartments, is his home and his plaything. It's his passion, a passion that he has transmitted to the other men in the building who have bought apartment homes under the Hunt roof —Owen Jones, Dr. Paul Marquis, Charles Knickerbocker, Cyrus McCor- mick, Jr., Robert Upham, Paul Walker and Walter Ross. That new building is not just a building to Jarvis Hunt — it's to him what a painting is to an artist. To see him flicking a bit of dust from a brass door knob, potter ing about the patio or looking in upon his tenants to see that they are com fortable, one wonders if he doesn't feel that that building is his greatest treas- Jarvis Hunt By MAUREEN MCKERNAN ure. IT is the boast of Jarvis Hunt that he came to Chicago (some thirty-five years ago) as a struggling young archi tect in his twenties, with his pockets crammed with letters of introduction, not one of which he ever used. Through the years he has lived here he has made for himself a name as one of the most honored architects, with such buildings as the Lake Shore Athletic Club, the Rector building, the American Trust and the People's Trust to his credit, and he has clothed him self with a reputation as the man whom more people know about and fewer know personally than any man in town. He is never interviewed, and he never sits for a picture. He can dodge even the cameras aimed at the Easter parade. Jarvis Hunt's reputation as a host is such that a whole saga of myths has grown up about him, yet he is never seen on the street, in a cafe or at a theatre with anyone except his chil dren, Jarvis, Jr., and Miss Louise Hunt. Invitations to his old studio in the Tree Building on Ohio street and in vitations to his new apartment at 900 North Michigan have been sought by the city's greatest without success. Yet there are men and women who can tell of a time in their hungry struggling youth, before they had beaten open the doors of the city, when they were warmed and cheered and given a laugh and a good square meal beside the crackling wood fire in Jarvis Hunt's old studio at the Tree Building. A dusty, high windowed old place, like all those nests at the Tree Studios, which is a far cry from the perfection of his pres ent domicile. '/T^HEY said I was crazy when I 1 decided to have rough granite walls in this living room," Mr. Hunt says about his present apartment, which, should he allow it, could well be a show place of the city. "Modern apartment of distinguished architect, where he lives in bachelor splendor with four servants, and all that." The rough granite walls, running to a twenty-foot ceiling, are, believe it or not, very warm and soft in effect. Dark floors and deep rugs, with a fire place big enough for a small oak tree as a back log. On the massive mantel are three life sized Buddhas, and above them, fifteen feet from the floor, is the head of a white rhinoceros. Jarvis Hunt is a great travelor and hunter. "Shot this rhino myself," he says, "with my pocketbook, in a taxider mist's shop in London." When he has guests the phone never rings, and only the butler of his servant staff is in evidence. He serves cham pagne to his guests and drinks Scotch, neat, himself. His daughter, Louise, comes home by spells, to keep house for him. "But it's like running a cafe teria and I can't stand it long at a time," she says. "One night I order dinner for twelve guests and two come. And the next night I order for two and twelve appear." When she is not in Chicago Miss Hunt lives in Bar Harbor, Maine. THERE is a great rambling old house in Wheaton, where Jarvis Hunt resided when Mrs. Hunt was liv ing and his children were growing, and so vivid is the memory of his wife that the old house has not been changed and remains as it used to be. Jarvis Hunt is no gambler, but $100 a hole for a golf game at the Wheaton golf club is a usual thing with him, and sometimes, to make the game snappy, the stake is, well, shall we say, substantial. Perhaps a certain reputation, which has clothed him with a romantic aura of a kind, is derived from his courtesy to women. For it can never be said that he is lacking in a gift to please women. He has an uncanny knack of saying just what will flatter a woman most, and his compliments are given a tang by the gaze he levels upon one. HE has a great perference for food cooked in his own home, and he will not eat bread that is not made in his own kitchen. If he suspects that the rolls placed before him are not fresh from his own oven he has been known to hurl them at the pantry door, as a signal to the butler to bring him bread to his fancy. A man who can create and dwell in 24 THE CHICAGOAN a baronial hall on a street where kitch enettes rent for scandalous prices should be a man of tall commanding stature, but the short, broad shouldered, heavy head of Jarvis Hunt, for some reason, are not at all out of keeping with his granite walls and twenty foot ceilings. He's not an old man, nor a young man — he's just a man who loves the business of living, who does as he pleases and who dreams dreams — some times of buildings, sometimes of a career for some gangling young thing whose suggestion of undeveloped talents strikes his fancy. Just now the dream is of a cruise on a yacht, that will take him along the coast of Algiers, and down through Said and among the islands down under. The View Moderne In Which a Prober Perspective Re paints Divers More or Less Im£ro£er Persons in History I AM chuckling. It matters not that I am chuckling at myself. It is none the less hearty. The years have dis- 'This is Willie speaking, mudder — / won me fight in the foist round wid a right hook to the button" pelled or diffused so many things which, as a child and as an adolescent, I had read and heard and believed with abject faith and unquestioning acceptance. For instance, I first thought that Lady Godiva was a bold and brazen woman to shock her good neighbors as history attests she did. On second thought I am disposed to think differ ently. She was but the forerunner of that group of intellectuals with whom the aesthetic obliterates the obvious. She did not realize that her less-artistic townsfolk could not be oblivious to the obvious. She meant well. Those were the Dark Ages. She wanted to open the eyes of the people. If Godivas in this age are less numerous, it must be remembered that this is a horseless age and that in the scarcity of horseflesh white horses are scarcer than any. I have ceased maligning Cleopatra. Imagine to what extent some of her ardent suitors would have gone, how differently the history of the world might have shaped itself if she had not clipped the wings of some of them. So many men singe their wings in the heat and lure of the tropics. Cleopatra was nothing if not thorough. She knew that singed wings were evidence per se that one had played with fire. She clipped them. It was less compromis ing. I WAS wont to characterize her court as wanton and licentious. What was she to do? In her time there were no seductive night-clubs and no prohibi tion-provocative beverages to inspire one to make whoopee. She was even resigned to float slowly and not too- commodiously down the Nile when so many of less-potent modern sisters are bored with their Rolls-Royces and fed up on their Hispano-Suizas. The giant duskies who gently stirred the air about her with fans of palm were useful as well as ornamental with Marc Anthony pouring hot words into her ears. That girl's lot was not an easy one. My heart goes out to Queen Eliza beth. As every one knows, her face was not her fortune. Not only was she irked by the routine of her court but that rest of her to which was at tributed the IT which she is said to have possessed was hemmed in, as it were, by the fashions of the period. What if the Earl of Essex lost his head over her. Men have lost their heads over women throughout the ages. How Raleigh ingratiated himself is a matter of history, but his gallantry THE CHICAGOAN 25 has been exaggerated beyond its due. Being stepped on by a muddy boot was not to be relished in those days of white, lace collars. (Elizabeth had a penchant for stepping on people.) Raleigh knew that the queen would grant him shelter while his cloak was being cleansed of its muddy gallantry. What could be more conducive to informality and abandon than sitting around in one's shirt sleeves? All this was before Ra leigh discovered tobacco and began hav ing pipe dreams. That finished him with Elizabeth. It was too late in life for her to be satisfied with pipe dreams. IUCRETIA BORGIA, there was a L* woman. With a fully-equipped laboratory she just had to keep the pots boiling. Her researches in chemical sci ence were productive and potent if not humane. She just doted on poisons but showed little interest in antidotes. With a new Don Juan in the offing and the rejected lovers refusing to stay rejected the poor woman had a problem on her hands. Necessity was the mother of her poisonous inventions. It may be added that her family understood her for they appear to have given her the fullest cooperation. Poor Henry the Eighth was the vic tim of a complex he could not or would not understand. He loved so many things in women. Withal he never loved these things in one woman. How much easier would his crown have rested on his royal head and how much longer would Anne Boleyn's head have rested on her graceful shoulders had he but dreamt of this thing they now call companionate marriage. — WILLIAM D. BORDEN. Cocktail MR. JOSEPH R. ATOR of the Post has recently established a record. In our company in a Loop restaurant the other evening he set about ordering a meal with nice gusta tory discrimination. "First," said Mr. Ator, "a shrimp cocktail — " The waiter, having taken all other orders in full, disappeared, an unusual procedure. Mr. Ator, though surprised, went on studying his menu. The waiter returned. Served the other diners in due course. "Your or der, Sir," he confided to Joseph R., "will be slightly delayed, however — " he bowed himself off. Perhaps 20 minutes later he returned bearing a platter. Ceremoniously he revealed its contents. A huge hambur ger steak! H'h.e 5TA G E A Fortnight Without a F i r s t-N i g h t By CHARLES COLLINS THE fortnight before Christ mas was repre sented on Chica go's theatrical cal endar by blank pages. Nothing happened. The first-night gang, deprived of opportunities to stand around in lobbies between acts telling people, "I saw this show in New York," felt that life was hollow and forlorn. The provincialism of the town, in its relation to the stage, became acute. Of course "Blossom Time" returned, but that event was merely a financial item. In the past four years this operetta has shown a profit of four mil lion dollars. One contemplates these earnings with awe, and passes on. Argentina danced on a Sabbath af ternoon, without advance reclame, and every seat in the Studebaker was filled. Our best people, mysteriously aware that here was something choice, in- La Argentina, one of the great dancers of the world, and perhaps greatest of Spanish dancers, as seen by Nat Karson. La Argentina dances a return engagement before the Town at the Studebaker, December JO, 5:50 p. m. 26 THE CHICAGOAN spected this new castanet-clicker and voted her marvelous. They dispersed for their tea-parties almost as excited over the rhythmic Argentina as they were over the harmonic Horowitz. Be fore the lithe and tropical lady got out of her spangles she was being compared by aisle-seat rhapsodists to Raquel Mel- ler, Eleanora Duse and Carmencita. I understand that her legs are inferior to Mistinguette's, but they did not pre vent her observers from crying "Habet!" — meaning, in this case, she has It. Omens and Portents THERE is baleful thunder on the left. The stock market -may have recovered from its recent convulsions, and the wave of prosperity is said to be riding high; but "show business" is depressed. Seven thousand members of the Actors' Equity Association are hungrily looking for jobs and the man agers are mournful. Beware of the Ancient Manager, if you happen to know one. In this happy holiday time, when everything should be as merry and bright as a -and one dozen kiss-proof lipsticks, if you please" Yuletide essay by Dickens, he is likely to fix you with his glittering eye and tell you his troubles. He will even ask you, in a pathetic kind of way, to give him your opinion about what's wrong with his customers. You need not be too sympathetic when the Ancient Manager beats his breast. There is always something the matter with "show business." As I hark back over the years, I hear the echoes of many gruesome groans from the box-office. Here are some of the reasons that theatrical economists have advanced, during the first quarter of the twentieth century, to explain why their treasuries were not heaped with ducats: the bicycling craze, golf and the country club, the automobile, sub urban life, the movies, the war, the peace, the presidential campaigns, the radio, and finally, the talkies. The theatre has always been a malade imaginaire, it seems, afflicted with many obscure, agonizing symptoms. WHEN asked to diagnose the cast in its contemporary form, the other day, by the only Ancient Manager to whom I am still willing to listen, I answered sternly: "This time the theatre has no alibi. The reason for its bad business is its own bad manners." Then up sprang George Jean Nathan, writing in the American Mercury, to confirm me and to elabor ate the indictment. Bad manners plus bad morals, says the learned Dr. Nathan, at last beating his tom-tom with sincerity and significance, are transforming the Broadway stage into a slum. "I have no more morals than a Chinaman," he maintains with stout and fatuous modernism, forgetting that the Chinese are the most honest race in the world, "but this mess has be come intolerable." He even carries his denunciation back-stage, and refers to certain theatrical groups in New York as inheritors of customs once prevalent in Sodom, Gomorrah, and the languid isle of Lesbos. Read Nathan in the December Mercury. He speaks like an ancient Hebrew prophet, denouncing abominations. All of which suggests to me the title for a book that is crying to be written. Among the myriad of volumes that have been published about the stage, it will be the most fascinating. For THE CHICAGOAN 27 author, it will require a psychologist with the humor of William James and the candor of Sigmund Freud; for preparation, twenty years of stage-door research. It will pluck the heart out of an eternal mystery; it will reveal how show-folk become a distinct species. The title is: "A Behaviorist Looks at the Theatre." Clouds of Glory BUT in spite of the stage's present tendency to wallow in the mire, it still trails some of the clouds of glory which are its heritage. For instance, here is Alexander Moissi, at the Woods — one of the few players of the period whose fame is international. Moissi of Berlin and Vienna, in a drama by Tolstoy which was staged by Max Reinhardt, chaperoned in the grand manner by Morris Gest. This is some thing to renew play-going zeal. For the past twenty years Moissi (pronounced Mo-ee-see) has been re garded as the first actor of Mittel- Europa. You will find his name cited with honors in every appraisal of the art of acting in Europe that has been written during the past generation. He comes to Chicago, moreover, not as a hoary veteran at the fag-end of his career, but as a player at the peak of his power. Moissi is forty-seven — about as young as John Barrymore, with whom he can be associated be cause his vehicle, "The Living Corpse," has been acted by the latter under the title of "Redemption." Brush up your German, or read the play in the translation that is available, and see Moissi in "Lebende Leich- nam." You will find a drama written by a philosopher, directed by a wizard, and acted by a genius. The engage ment, which began with Christmas Week, will end January 5. If you procrastinate, you may default on one of the highest adventures of the the atrical season. The ROVING O £ r y H o u s By FRANCIS LONG winter afternoons, the Audi- * torium is empty and echoing — the house dark, the stage a rabble of re hearsals. For on these winter after noons, the most elaborate presentation of opera in the world is shaped for evening performance. Just now the Marriage of Figaro is on stage. Mozart's opera has not ap peared in Chicago for 17 years, an age-long time in the memory of audi ences and a long time even in the memory of directors. Thus the entire work of preparation must be done almost from the beginning, the tradi tion clothed convincingly in stage trap pings and gesture; "Figaro" is bewil- deringly difficult. The stage is a pen of lunatics be come incongruously musical. Artists bounce on and off in the agile Italian manner, taking entrances and exits over and over to become familiar with the action. A half dozen singers group together and rehearse their parts in quarter and half voice, and rehearse, too, the pantomime supplied by Charles Moor, white-coated stage director. Artizans, come on and off meanwhile —but at the leisurely, ambling gait of a stage hand when not overpoweringly rushed. They bawl directions over the music, tug and vituperate with bright sets. Mr. Moor tugs at his human sets, arranges them, re-arranges them; they take it with abounding good humor. Seen in street clothing, opera singers are by no means imposing, yet seem ingly they are willing to sing with something of the zest of a prize-fighter shadow boxing, elaborately, technically and with joyful spirit. When they loaf, they loaf magnificently — Trevisan beams, his hands in his pockets. When they converse, and it is on all occasions when conversation is remotely feasible, they carry on in a babel of French, Italian, English, Spanish and occasion ally German. The melting pot sings at the spout. YET this present rehearsal is but one of the two or three full re hearsals necessary for a revived piece. Last summer, artists received their scores for private study with directors REPORTER e Tonight C. COUGHLIN during summer and early fall. Later there were star rehearsals with prin cipals and directors working together while ballet scenery and subsidiary parts were prepared. Finally, the as sembled cast is put through full re' hearsal with orchestra. Usually, for a current opera, only one full rehearsal is needed. There is, however, no fixed rule. An opera is rehearsed until its directors are satis fied. It is presented. The next night another opera goes on. And eventually the 12-week season is over. There are, perhaps, 200 complete operas in storage. A year's repertoire embraces some 40. SAY at six o'clock of an opera eve ning, supers begin to drift in. By six-thirty or, at most, six-forty-five, principals have arrived and are in their dressing rooms. Curtain time is eight sharp. The house begins to fill at seven-thirty. By eight-thirty the gleam ing elegance of the boxes is replete. Backstage becomes a kind of con gealed and fantastic riot. Tonight, for instance, The Jewess goes on at eight. The Jewess, by Halevy, is laid in Constanz, A. D. 1414. Behind the wings one comes on a swarm of Fran ciscans, white-hooded and white-robed, each friar with a taper. A solid phalanx of men-at-arms edges the brothers to one side, halberdiers and swordsmen in gleaming helmets and chain mail, their tabards studded with metal. To the other a mob of medieval citizenry in knee breeches and curious flat, Italian caps in the fashion of the mariners of Columbus. The women in bright garments. Charles Marshall passes; tonight he is the stricken Jew, Eleazar. On stage he is a shambling and fearful figure. But in the wings he is brisk and anxious and cheerful. Alexander Kipnis edges to his post, an imposing cardinal of the church. Beneficent and feeble before the footlights, he is a robust churchman in the wings, a hearty, bustling, burly man — more fit for a Friar Tuck than a cardinal. Jose Mojica, tenor, is the graceful young Prince Leopold. Tall, hand some, earnest, in a sweeping cloak and 28 THE CHICAGOAN girded with a sword, Mojica sways to ward his entrance. His swagger is belied by a gentle face, by something closely resembling beauty. Mme. Mock goes on. And Mme. Leider. A COMPARATIVE hush and the steel curtain is heaved up. A deeper hush and assistant conductors in their little room sort over their music shelves. Opera is on, outside. In an other little room the radio men are intent over strange instruments and weird lights. Eighteen microphones pick up the broadcast; very delicately the master of broadcast blends their music. As suddenly as an act is over, the backstage is frantic. An observer is bewildered by strange machinery, lost in the arrangement of huge pieces of scenery at once so huge and so fragile, dazzled by strange lights. The swarm of halberdiers pours off. Friars hoist their robes scandalously to run. Prin cipals come off bulky in costume and sweating like stagehands. The higher clergy mingle amiably enough with a ballet coming on, and a slender dancer with a flapper face for all its makeup replies explosively in French to an altar boy who is, obviously, not French at all and who, perhaps, only wanted a date with the little lady. Yet in the hubbub, the Klansman need not despair of America. Stage- "My crimson typewriter, instantly — / want to write a hot retort' hands contrive to get themselves heard, and their remarks lack nothing in virility. Only it must be a strain on a stagehand to have outrageously dressed gents wandering under his nose and sounding off bursts of melody, to have a strange and bewhiskered Hebrew and an imposing prelate burst into a fa, so, la, mi, do just behind him. DRESSING rooms to the right of the stage are clamorous. A mixed yodel of singing, a clatter of talk. Back-curtain dignitaries of one sort or another issue mandates, or confer im posingly — a back-curtain dignitary may be distinguished by his shirt-sleeves, the too-short vest, and an uncertain pro fusion of shirt at the belt. Yet very suddenly the din quiets down. Scene shifters work intently, efficiently. For a breathing space the backstage rests. Then — Fernand Giaconne, prompter, strides into the star's alley, score sheets in hand. Loudly he claps. His voice rolls the r's, clips the syllables, Euro- peanizes the vowels. "Attendo, Kipnis, Mojica, Mock, Marshall, Leider, Defrere, Nicolich, Sandrini. Allez"! Supers swarm out. The stars come charging through the artist's door. A flurry, a hush, a noiseless gesture of curtain machinery. Another act is on. Symposium Wei), Where DID the Phrase "Make Whoopie" Originate? SOME wag about Town has recently been circulating the story that we were willing to pay five dollars to any one who could tell us how the latter day expression "Make Whoopie" started. It is, let us assure you, only a rumor. We don't care that who coined the term. In fact, if we were to admit, we have a hazy idea of its origin. However, since the story has been go ing the rounds, we have received in numerable letters from people all over the world making bids for the fabulous (in this case) award. Here are a few, in part, which will give you an idea of what awful liars some people are. La\e Oa\oboogie, Africa. Dear Mr. Plarr: When first I heard the term "Make Whoopie" I was approaching the vil lage of the famous cannibal chieftain, Sumatra. One of his tribesmen saw THE CHICAGOAN 29 me and yelled, "Yah, Let's 'make whoopie'!" "Whoopie" being, I be lieve, the Oakoboogian word for broth. Rev. Dr. Eldred Jay Arminthy. Eleria, Ohio. Dear Sir: In 1912, the year before Aunt Sarah moved in on us, I remember my young est, Uvalia, was "taken down" with whooping cough. It was a very severe case, Dr. Freeman said. And little Uvalia, in her childish way insisted on coughing. She called it, in her child ish way, "making whoopie." ... I hope you will send. . . . Mrs. R. G. Rac\ety (Minnie B.) ?>{ew Tor\ City. Dear Mr. Plarr: It is rumored along the Main Stem that I coined the current catch-phrase, "Make Whoopie." Of course I don't want . . . but you may send. . . . Walter Winchell Smithsonian Institution Dear Sir: The evening of my nineteenth birth day anniversary (I remember it well, for word had just come that Sherman had completed his march. Or was it Sousa?) some of my friends came to my house and one of them said, "Well, Fanny, let's all go out and 'make whoopie.' " Well, we all left. . . . Fanny Ward. What Cheer, Iowa. Dear Mr. Plarr : I actually believe that the new and very clever expression "make whoopie" originated right here in our younger "set." It was this way. My husband, Elvin, concocted a cocktail and intro duced it one evening. He made it with three parts gin, three parts wild grape wine, one part. ... He first called it "Death-Comes-to-the- Archbishop" and later in the evening "rechristened" it "The Whoopie," because of what it does to you. Everyone was crazy about it. . . . They always wanted Elvin to "shake" or "make" a "Whoopie." Gradually we all took to shortening our demand to "Elvin, 'make Whoopie.' " So don't you really think. . . . Mrs. Elvin Vincent Blodgette. It isn't that any of these letters mat ters. We don't care a bit where or how the phrase started. We never use it and never have. But what we do wish is that the person or persons re sponsible for this rumor make a public apology, so that we will have fewer letters to open. — deverett n. plarr. MU/ICAL NOTE/ The Thunderous Wagner By ROBERT POLLAK WITH a mighty swoop of the cellos the drama of Diei Walkure thunders) in and it becomes suddenly obvious; that the mighty Richard has lost none of his erstwhile potency. The Honeggers, Rhesphigis and Hinde- miths dwindle in perspective. We be gin to wonder why the world, war- torn and healed again, has not suc ceeded, after almost half-a-century, in spawning another creature comparable to this masterly fellow. The Civic Opera is apparently con vinced that the time has come to give him vigorous hearing. Die Walkure, at this point, has been heard three times. The retention of the magnifi cent Frida Leider for the season 1929- 30, the quiet but steady development of a German wing (witness Olszewska and her husband) make credible the notion that the complete Ring will be viewed during the first season on Wacker Drive. The hard-headed Dr. Moore of The Tribune said a large mouthful in a recent Sunday column. He inferred that the ladies and gentlemen who wail loudest and longest anent the dearth of German opera in Chicago are not over anxious to step up to the window and contribute to Mr. Insull's little tin box when performances of Die Walkure or Der Rosenkavalier are an nounced on the hand-bills. He suggests that if Chicagoans want Wagner, they demonstrate by frequent and enthusi astic attendance at all Deutsche festivi ties on Congress St. His request is fairness itself. After all the Opera is a gaudy, expensive luxury. Its affairs are directed by hard-hearted and com petent business men as well as by fiery conductors. If Die Walkure, on sec ond or third hearing, plays to a lot of barren rows, the sword of Siegfried and the spear of Wotan will return to the property room for a long layoff. The local version of Die Walkure, possibly not up to Bayreuth or Munich standards, is nevertheless eminently satisfactory. Lamont makes poor busi ness of Siegfried, but from there on the whoopees mount heavenward. Kipnis is an accomplished Wagnerian, a digni fied old Wotan, with rich experience and a richer voice to lend to the role. Olszewska, should you not have noticed it and you did, does marvels with the long family argument in the second act. This can be, and often is, the most leaden spot in the music-drama. She gives it fire and eloquence, the voice of anger and frustration. Cotreuil, as a stern Hunding, Eva Turner, as a gracious and appealing Sieglinda, a husky line of Walkure engaged in powerful chorale, made credible and artistic the first opera of the great trilogy. As for Frida Leider you will probably never hear her like as a dramatic soprano again. She has great range, a capacity for nuance, a beautiful natural vocal equipment, and a quality both in action and song that touches the heart by reason of its tre mendous honesty and generosity. Polacco sailed through the score with obvious delight, like a man glad to be back home again. Looking Ufi DIE WALKURE, Boris and Don Giovanni all in a fortnight. Wagner, Moussorgsky and Mozart in the ^sual haunts of Donizetti and Bizet. Things are distinctly looking up. Mozart's recreation of The Stone Guest was made known on Dec. 12 with sub stantially the same cast as last year and with the imported sets that make the production so distinctive. The evening was notable principally for its over whelming supply of high-grade war bling. Mason, Kipnis, Leider, Schipa and Vanni-Marcoux, or what the press- agents used to call a galaxy. The dra matic sustenance was largely furnished by the French baritone who has infinite ability to make thrilling the most weather-beaten roles. As the prototype for all lady-killers he has John Barry- more lashed to the well-known mast. Add Platitudes ADD to familiar list of Chicago > platitudes just below "she can act, but she can't sing": He is great with the orchestra but very disappoint' ing in recital. He (yes, we're still rav ing about Horowitz) was so disappoint- 30 THE CHICAGOAN "SALLY OF MY DREAMS" "Happy"— (Moret-Yoell) With vocal quartette, played by Earl Burtnett and his Los Angeles Bilt- more Hotel Orchestra which is taking the west by storm. Also the theme song of "Mother Knows Best" "Sally of My Dreams" 41c* "I Love That Girl" —Some Jay C. Flippen wise cracks in a racy, sporty song. Another just as novel and funny is the Yacht Club Boys with piano, violin and guitars in "DoYou?That*sAll IWanttoKnow!"41 13 "My Old Girl's My New Girl Now" - Peppy, rhythmic, modern Fox Trot with Eddy Thomas Chorus sung by Meyer Davis' Swanee Syncopators — and a fast, hot one by the Hotsy Totsy Gang — "I Couldrt' t If I Wanted To" 4112 "Take Your Tomorrow" — Sung by Grace Johnston, a new Brunswick artist and a wow of a Blues singer. Also the outstanding hit of "Good Boy" "1 Wanna Be Loved By You" 4099 Always something new on Brunswick Records There's new snap, rhythm and pep in Brunswick Records PANATROPES RADIOL AS- RECORDS ing in recital that a delirious audience almost tore down Mr. Voegeli's amuse ment palace on Michigan Avenue and refused to go home until a flunkey banged down the top of the Steinway and the stage lights were switched out. And the knowing ones who seemed to be in on all of Horowitz' deficiencies as a recitalist left the hall too stunned to argue. For this young Russian gentleman loses none of his electricity when he isn't leading a symphonic cavalry charge. In fact that same electrical quality yields itself to closer examina tion in recital and the stupendous ways and means of the pianist become more apparent. His is not the pianistic path of a Rubinstein or a Paderewski. He does not depend on a palette of emotion that bestows in itself broad slashes of color upon Chopin or Liszt. He creates no legend other than that of his diabolical genius and commits, at the top of driving crescendo passages, no errors that serve to make him more human to his public. He resorts rather to an infinitely careful control of dyna mics superimposed upon a technique which is best compared to that of Heifitz when he was at his best. This particular attitude toward piano play ing lays him open to the accusation that he is still young, that he lacks certain powers that only maturity can can give him. There may be some thing in this. But if he were to be- come a chef or a haberdasher tomorrow this reporter, for one, would feel that the career of one of the greatest inter' preters in the history of music had come to an end. La Argentina COME to think of it, the current musical season in Chicago is con' tributing much more excitement to life in a big city than the glittering list of attractions on Randolph Street. It is not a very happy year for the theatre either here or in New York. Take La Argentina for instance. (We claim her for this department because she was imported by the genial Bertha Ott and because she dances to sundry musics of De Falla and Albeniz, and why should we make any excuses any way?) This dancer has labored long and hard. Seven years ago she was just noticeable in a New York musical comedy flop. Now she is feted by a couple of hemispheres and loved wher' ever Spanish bosom leaps to the meas ure of the jota or the bolero. Beautiful of face and figure, she makes no gesture that fails to fit with in the frame of her original interpreta tions. She dances a fire-dance to a sullen ostinato and we discover the far-off drum beats of a civilization partly North African. She dances at an eighteenth century court and we wish wistfully that Degas had been a contemporary of Goya. Maybe that grand old man of letters, Havelock Ellis, will write about La Argentina sometime. He knows more than any of us about the dance, and about Spain, too, for that matter. And this lady is the quintessence of both. For Antiquarians Why Go to Europe, or Wabash Ave nue, When Rarer Finds Lurk Beneath the Rooftree NOW, if ever, come perfect days for the antiquarian's pursuit of treasure. But Europe is — well, Eu rope; and Wabash Avenue, too, for that matter. And so to the good news that rarer finds lurk conveniently at hand in the basement store room and the warehouse. After investigating the condition of my own I feel that the following is approximately the con tent of an average store room. One new washboard and three old ones. Four pairs of ice skates. Na tional Geographies from 1901 to date. 1,004 wire clothes hangers. One copy of "When Knighthood Was in Flow er." An old table size phonograph. A split bamboo casting rod. Com plete set of Rover Boys books. Two dozen wooden clothes hangers, of which twenty-three are rough. Five corsets. One copy "The Gentleman from Indiana." One pair of rotted wading boots. One "lost" Pipe Iron jigger. Two Gibson girls pictures. Several of Cousin Grade's water col ors. An old fishing hat with six flies in the band. An electric iron that doesn't heat. A chipped fruit bowl that Aunt Mae gave us one Christ mas. Four novels by Winston Churchill. Two burned out electric toasters. Grandfather's Civil War saber. Letter files for 1908, 1912 and 1921. Program for "Jack O' Lantern" with Fred Stone. A hickory stick. Ridpath's "History of the World," nine volumes. Sheet music from "The Follies of 1917." Other aticles too dusty to recognize and too numerous to mention. — D. T. T. T. TUICI4ICAG0AN 31 Lake late^iA jdjcuing *purig Npjott/>u)arnari IIIlA^ JrAefjexb ihi/s icxmifJjstQ "TTS grown to be a habit, 1 sup- I pose. For a long time, I've picked •*- up the Herald and Examiner first every morning because I enjoy in •port pages. "Horses are a hobby of mine. livery day in the Herald and Examiner I find what is probably the most complete page of racing charts, forecasts and entry lists of any paper in the city. "The turf news is apparently written by old hands at the racing game who are also natural bom tellers of stories. They surely write in an entertaining way. They \now fine horses and what they can do on the track. "I think the Herald and Examiner has become one of the most interest ing and lively papers I have ever had the pleasure of reading. So you see my admiration doesn't end with the sport pages." Do you know that complete rac ing "dope" is one of the regular Herald and Examiner features. In its news of the racing World, the Herald and Examiner attains accuracy and good judgment. It pub lishes one of die most complete rac ing pages in the country —one feature of its large and competently edited •port department. Few snap judgments are found on Herald and Examiner sport pages. Forecasts are made by seasoned prophets, whether they are on the subject of football scores or racing form. The Herald and Examiner may be proud of its sport pages which are acclaimed by college officials as well as by young men just entering high school sport. Some of its racing news is re printed below. Read it now. Get a Herald and Examiner regularly and enjoy its sport news, no matter in what field your interest lies. TO LEAD PACK HOME W SIXTH AT TUUAflA hami4edatlellerson. manner *no. , trm<*- *— ESTe »»<*" °?„ w*4 W *" „£ M»l- *"•*¦• . BOO) w*i_ ma iw"i »« |°°,, ta & njttJTUw"! "ST ™. "«' **?:. ThU coll. M» j"" , Uio« tfsSSsSS nn frt » ¦"• 5 he adventure that all of us have wished for — to run away and join a circus.' Miss Elizabeth (Libby) Chase cherished that hope, too— apparently. And then, one morning, Chicagoans rubbed their eyes and read that this daring young woman had actually joined the circus, appearing as the tvorld's greatest "lady rider." She came home to Lake Forest, eventually, wrote most inter' estingly about her experiences and at this writing is in England. Aristocrats ,Kl 2£ S »W'\!HZ-- H»«»- SKgfeSS . . . and tdbat tfeey are worth Newspaper men are said to be poorly paid. You see them in stories and plays . . . made to look like Mr. Scrooge's bookkeeper. If you could glance at Herald and Examiner payrolls you would get another picture. Here are the highest paid men and women in the journalistic profession . . . The Herald and Examiner wants writers of quality . . . of talent . . . to give you the best thinking, the most interesting reading. For this quality, the Herald and Examiner is willing to pay. These writers constitute one of the most brilliant staffs ever assembled on a single daily newspaper.. Arthur Brisbane . . . James Weber Linn . . . John Lambert . . . O. O. Mclntyre . . . Fontaine Fox . . . John Held, Jr. and Lloyd Mayer . . . Glenn Dillard Gunn . . . Ashton Stevens . . . Ted Cook . . . Warren Brown . . . Bobby Jones . . . B. C Forbes . . . Merryle Rukeseyer . . . Karl von Wiegand . . . these are but a few of them. This great staff provides more than 435,000 families with a newspaper full of interesting, wide-awake news. alert editorial comment and pleasant mental recreation every morning. If you are not familiar with the Herald and Examiner now, read it tomorrow. Enjoy it. You will make it a morning habit. 3*J A group of distinguished musicians in programs of quality seldom heard else- L where than in formal con cert Events of first importance for those who ap preciate music of the highest merit. STRING QUARTET Quartet Assisted by Piano String Solos 6 to 8 p. m. In the Main Restaurant each eve ning, including Sundays. No cover charge. A highly diversified and different program each evening. NEWSPRINT "But It Must Be True or They Wouldn't Print It" By EZRA THE most interesting item in any of the local newspapers during the past fortnight appeared in The Journal a short time before Christmas. It probably was in all of the other dailies, too, as it was a rewrite of one of those quaint little apologies the Associated Press sends out to its clients from time to time when it finds out that some' thing it has fed them was a "fake." In this case, some imaginative A.P. correspondent at Paris, Kentucky, had told the world the pathetic story of little Tillie Oakley. Tillie, it seemed, was convinced by a more sophisticated school mate that Santa Claus was a myth. Her illusion shattered, she suf' fered a physical breakdown and had to be placed under medical care. What a sob story for the Christmas season! What editorials, what ser' mons, what followstories could be built on this little dispatch from the hills! All over United States and Canada, newspaper writers wept with poor little Tillie and, in turn, Tillie wept with thousands of readers. Telegrams, air mail, and parcel post packages started from all parts of the country to Paris, Kentucky, to assure Tillie by word and by gift that Santa does exist. The only thing wrong was that the postmaster couldn't locate Tillie. Or, in fact, any family named Oakley. So the Associated Press, which had distributed the original story, sent a reporter down to investigate. He could find no Tillie. We presume the Paris (Ky.) cor' respondent has been duly dismissed. That is the usual procedure in the fourth estate. If he was, it was a mistake. Every day a few of these harmless little "fakes" creep into the newspapers and make their columns all the more enjoyable. YEARS ago a telegraph operator in a little junction not far from Pitts' burgh created a mythical town and for years sent out to the newspapers of the country some of the most weird, yet entertaining, yarns that ever appeared in print. Our neighboring city of Aurora was the source of quite a sup' ply of these gems fifteen or twenty years ago. The rule on these pure "fakes" or "half fakes" has always been: "Make TI4ECWICAGOAN them good, but not too good." In other words, the authors tried to make them just interesting enough that they would be sure of publication, but not so interesting that the city desks would consider them worth sending out spe- cial staff writers and photographers to keep them alive a few days. There was a genius on the city press some years ago who got along nicely for several months. One day, he turned in a story from the old Harrison Street court about a "daughter of an old Southern family" who had met re verses in the North and was living in actual poverty on the near Southside. It was a good, sobby little yarn. Un- fortunately it caught the fancy of the city editor (The T^ews if I recall correctly) and he dispatched a photog- rapher to get a picture of this unfortunate southern belle. The photographer found "the daughter of an old southern family" at the address given. She was a negress. IF you were interested in the Boulder Dam controversy, it would be worth your while to go back into the files of The Tribune and The Chicago ?<[ews on the one hand, and The Herald' Examiner on the other, the three or four days after the measure passed. It would be difficult to realise that you were reading about the same subject. The Trib and Thews' found this action the most flagrant bit of "log rolling" which has occurred in Washington in years — an imposition on the poor downtrodden central western farmer, while the Examiner hails it as a trc mendous victory of the common people over the power trust and a rebuke to the mere handful who blocked this progressive piece of legislation for years. It would be useless here to at' tempt to quote these worthy newspa- pers at length. The headlines and typographical display are a part of it. TWECI4ICAG0AN 33 We recommend this particular matter to schools of journalism, and to students of newsprint. THE sensational expose of alleged graft in the school board printed by the Herald-Examiner early in De cember seemed to peter out rather rapidly — apparently much to the satis' faction of the other newspapers in the city. At the start it appeared that, by use of dictaphones and strategy, the Exam' iner was going to blow the roof off of a new scandal. State's Attorney Swanson was dragged out of bed and promised a thorough investigation. The other newspapers played the story in a rather cautious way, just enough so they would be in on it if it de' veloped, but seemingly hopeful that it wouldn't amount to much. The mat' ter apparently closed when Swanson concluded there was not sufficient evi' dence to warrant indictments against anyone/ x The hardy Examiner came right back to bat December 20 with an ex' elusive story of a rather amazing flight of Capt. Sir Hubert Wilkins of the Wilkins'Hearst Antarctic Expedition. It will take some time, perhaps, to find just how important the flight proves to be from a scientific standpoint, but on the surface, it looks like a piece of enterprise, which justifies the expense gone to. RING LARDNER, graduate of The Chicago Tribune who has become one of the country's outstanding humorists, is again available to Chicago newspaper readers. He is writing three or four articles per week for the Herald'Examiner. There is noi better reading of eve nings than two features of The Journal — a daily dispatch from Wash' ington, which usually appears on page two under the heading "Mirror of Washington," and "The Campus Canopy" by Ralph Cannon, on the second sport page. Some day Cannon is going to broaden his range of sub' jects and we are going to have an' other department as good as Teddy Linn's daily feature in the Examiner. IF "The Front Page" is a bit too sophisticated or destroys some of your pet illusions as to the newspaper fraternity, it is recommended that you purchase (or borrow) a copy of "Cub" by Chalmers Lowell Pancoast. Next to your Lifeline in importance is f your Face - Line • /^~y/~EEP it clean cut.. .firm.. .young. ..the y\ Essential Cream way. ..a wonderful \J> simplified medium (actually two creams in one jar). ..a cleanser... a skin nourisher. Women today... the average woman. . . is ten times younger. . . a thousand times prettier than she has ever been be fore! Why? . . . because she has learned how to aid and abet nature. . . intelligent diet . . . serene mental attitude... exercise... and at least one daily facial treatment with Essential Cream. Marie Earle's Essential Cream... the most gra ciously textured cream in the world... keeps the skin bright. First it cleanses it... which is so nec essary to a fresh complexion... then it nourishes even the dryest skin with its soothing, penetrat ing, amazingly effective oils. Use this cream for one month... watch the contours of your face "pick up"... look for that soft new skin radiance. Thousands of smart women already sing the praises of Essential Cream, and Marie Earle's Basic Treatments. The answer is that today you find the Marie Earle preparations... also her equally famous cosmetics... at the best shops. (2)7 'TROKING, yes... stretching, never ! ' ' You discover in the course of your delightful facial treatment at Marie Earle's famous Salon . . . fifth Avenuebetween52ndand53rdStreets, New York. Try a Marie Earle Treat ment. . . as the woman of fashion does ...before your next formal nighl. Your face will he immeasurably fresh ened . . . brightened . . . more beauti ful. And so constructive. . . the good results are even more noticeable in the days to come ! v ' REG. U. S. PAT. OFFICE « ESSENTIAL CREAM ~ CUCUMBER EMULSION ~ ALMOND ASTRINGENT 34 TUE CHICAGOAN Visit the Salons of Helena Rubinstein for a Beauty Analysis HELENA RUBINSTEIN studies your individuality and offers detailed advice on home treatments and the art of personality make-up. Benefit by Helena Rubinstein's knowledge of the science and the art ofbeauty. Her world renowned treatments spell the banishment ol crow's-feet, wrinkles, double chin. large pores and blackheads. Hej cosmetic masterpieces accent youi beauty to the point of perfection ! Even one Helena Rubinstein treat ment, plus regular home treatments, will yield you long-lasting beauty and youthfulness. For the harmonious perfection of your Beauty's ensemble, come to the Salons de Beaute Valaze. A com plete beauty service for the scientific care of the skin, hair and hands. The CI4ICACOCNNE Resolved! By ARC YE WILL IT seems an incontestable fact that the majority of New Year's resolu' tions are made to be broken. With this sad truth confronting us, it must of necessity be with the most impres' sive fervor and formality that I beg you to keep the one and only, which I, Fashion Editor, have decreed for the year, namely and emphatically : "Fewer but finer clothes" and predetermined harmony of completed costume. Please do! In the showing of clothes for South' ern wear white predominates. Plain materials as last year, crepe de chene, jersey, men's shirting, Shantung and, of more interest this year, silk voile. Most of the smart costumes are sleeve' less, and to be correct costumes must be ensembles, from sport to evening wear. There you are. Those who can, still wear colored scarfs to give the touch of color, but to those they do not become, and they are legion, the smart note can come from handbag, slippers or hat ornament. A great deal of brown is used for trimming on white, best I think with one of the printed crepes with yellow embodied in the design. The erase for brown which we noticed all winter has even gone to lingerie and thrills me not at all. However, blondes will like it. Tiers and peplum flounces are still good and for sport the one'piece with narrow tailored belt remains supreme. FOR your possible convenience in breaking less important resolutions I mention the O.'Kay mixer to be had at Commonwealth Edison shops. (Price $4.95.) It holds a pint and is ideal for mixing malted milks at home, also egg'nogs and forbidderr beverages. Here is one to try as soon as you leave the wagon: Juice of one lemon, white of one egg> tw° tablespoons cream, same of sugar, two cocktail glasses of Gordon water plus cracked ice, makes four of them. The same shops sell the Dormeyer PARIS LONDON 670 N. Michigan Avenue, Chicago 8 East 57th Street, New York "You are listening, ladies and gentlemen, to the celebration at the Whoopee Night Club—" THE CHICAGOAN 35 Electric Household Beater — beats, whips and mixes faster and more thof oughly than is possible for you to do without aching arms. Great help in the making of sponge cake, mayon' naise, pop'overs, etc. The standard size best adapted for all purposes, $22.50— Junior model, $20.00. FOR winter evenings in the coun' try after skating, you can't find anything more delectable than fresh popcorn. For this the Bersted Electric Popper (you have possibly been an' noyed by its popping over the radio), price is $5.95. Pops, salts and butters the corn all at the same time and the top tilts so there are no burnt fingers while emptying. At the new "Stop and Shop" now open at 16 to 22 West Washington Street, a few of the delectable morsels attractively displayed are fifty differ' ent assortments of candy including thirtyfive newly imported varieties. Their candy at $1.00 for 2j/2 and 3 pound boxes really is surprising. There you may obtain peaches and pineapples in creme de menthe or grenadine, dates in port or sherry. Stuffed pickles — ever hear tell? You have a stronger mind than mine if you can view their edibles without buying, for it actually made me hungry just to look. A restaurant is operated on the second floor, The Tiffin, service and appointments excellent and you should especially relish the food, for, did not the chef serve in that capacity to the King of Serbia for more than or going on four years? * Among all the different perfumes on the market, it seems a great task to choose one for your beloved, but I am sure — nay I will go further — I am posi' tive that she will bless you if you select any of the Gra'Car scents. I like Cyclamen the best. It is the natural flower fragrance, has been made by the Monks at the famous Abbey of the Graces in Pavia, Italy, since 1396; it J is encased in dainty Etruscan anfore, sealed in the Old Monastery Garden, set in a jewel bag and boxed with the ( Visconti crest. It comes in the follow' ing scents: Jasemin'Boquet'Calycan- thus-Violet'Rosa'Muguet and — Ah! — Cyclamen. Obtainable at Field's, Car son's, Allerton Pharmacy, Gale and Blocki, Blackstone, Barbara Kay, 111. Woman's Athletic Club and the Stevens Hotel. Price, $15.00. Give tke little boy a hand! It's no task to welcome liim with due enthusiasm when the smartest or chestras in all the land are playing especially for your New Year's E-ve party. Providing, of course* that you have a SmtitiMuick Panatrope ivithRadiola to hring their haunting tunes, the throh of their racy syncopation, to your living room. Radio or records — the choice is yours. This accommo dating electrical radio- phonograph is ready and willing to adapt itself to your moods. OfTered by E Commonwealth Edison £A LECTRIC SHOP J 7a West Adams Street, Chicago mose who a seek $mcvrb 015 SOUTH MICHIGAN Fred M. Lund Jeweler Rare Gems and Pearls Unusual Diamonds For Betrothal Rings 31 NORTH STATE STREET SUITE 501 36 TWtCUICAGOAN The Pearson hotel offers to its guests an address of distinction and of the utmost convenience. One block east of North Michi' gan Avenue, the Pearson com' mands the transportation facilities of this important artery and yet is pleasantly free of strident noises. While the Loop is quickly accessible by bus or taxi, many prefer the short walk. In an at' mosphere of quiet refinement, those who wish to escape the ob vious inconvenience of the more remote sections find in the Pear son appointments, furnishings, and service of quality, as well as opportunities for quicker busi' ness and social contacts. 300-car garage near by. The PEARSON HOTEL 190 East Pearson Street Telephone Superior 8200 Special Monthly Rates Upon Application p. ., D „ Single, $3.50 to $6.00 Daily Kates: Double> $5.00to$7.00 nTlie CINEMA Cassanova, Chaney and Points West By WILLIAM R. WEAVER EXACTLY one picture of the fortnight closing with issuance of this report is worth going to a cinema to see. And that one because it is an experi' ment in narration — a footnote to the tradition that Europeans make better pictures than Hollywoodsmen — rather than because of merit. "The Loves of Cassanova" is extremely interesting, but it is not particularly entertaining. The experiment in narration is quite simple. Confronted with a story com' posed principally of incidents intimate beyond the enforceability of even a picture star's contract, the thing left to do was to photograph the book. And so there are more printed captions than there are animated illustrations be tween. The inflammable Cassanova scoops up the lady of the moment and dashes out of the scene with plainly discernible intent; a caption wisecracks the news of the interim and sets 'em up on the other alley (i. e. ushers in the lady's successor). By this device it is possible for the hero to accomplish two hundred and thirtyseven captional conquests in the hour of the picture's exhibition, though only a half-dozen are shown in the action. It is this method of narration that interests. By it a story is told which could not be told otherwise. The fail' ure is in the whole, not in detail, for a choppy, broken effect is resultant. The eye wearies of smart captions. Gaudily colored and swiftly moving illustrations enacted by only mod erately personable ladies and gentle men of the Continental studios afford no relief. One regrets that the picture was not made by Ernst Lubitsch in Hollywood with Adolphe Menjou and Florence Vidor the principal sinners. The Continental product is interest ing; the Ernst production — and there is no reason why it should not be forth coming — would be fine entertainment. It IS Lon Chaney THERE was, it seems, a public for "Congo." And there is, of course, a very substantial public for Lon Chaney. If a motion picture screen could be kept as comfortably remote as a playhouse stage, there might even be a public for "West of Zanzibar," which is "Congo" plus Lon Chaney, Lionel Barrymore, Mary Nolan and a lot of other actors, white, black, animal and insect. But it can't. A motion picture just comes right up to you and sits in your lap. This one makes you want to send your clothes to the cleaner. The story of "Congo" is practically intact in "West of Zanzibar." Chaney is no less Chaney than always — in fact a great deal more so. But it's a smeary, gooey, slimy mess of nothing important enough to give eye and — yes, it's in "seductive sound" — ear to. Alehouse XIII THE most interesting exhibit of the fortnight was the Movietone ad dress of King Alphonse of Spain to the American people. (I heard this four times and know what I'm talking about.) The king, happily enough, seemed to enjoy it quite as thoroughly as anyone else. His Majesty seemed to want to say something in behalf of his country, feeling the subject has been more or less neglected, and wasn't sure exactly what. So he talked about the roads, about Columbus, and about the sport ing character of Americans. And about the difficulty of talking to so many people in a foreign tongue, and about peace (humorously) and about fifteen minutes. And, if cinema com ment means anything, talked half the audience into the notion that the king is a great guy and Spain will be a stop over on the next journey abroad. Perhaps, in view of the generally terrible condition of cinema entertain ment at this time, it is a good idea to put all the Movietone news reels into one theatre and exclude everything else, so that there will always be at least one interesting program in Town. More or Less Moving (To learn where any of the following pictures may be seen on a given date — or avoided, as the case may be — call Harrison 0036 and ask for Joe.) The Loves of Cassanova: European, verbose, novel, interesting but not enter' TUECUICAGOAN 37 taining. (Well — , yes.) West of Zanzibar: Lon Chaney in a terrible "Congo." (Ugh.) Show Girl: Alice White enunciating J. P. McEvoy's wisecracks wisely. (See it.) The Little Wildcat: Robert Edeson and George Fawcett talk pleasantly with nothing to say. (Don't see it.) Adoration: Billie Dove in love. (If you love nice things.) Someone to Love: Buddy Rogers and Mary Brian in pleasant foolishness. (If you've just had a birthday.) Riley the Cop: J. Farrell McDonald as an Irish policeman for no good reason. (No.) Sins of the Father: Jannings to less than no purpose. (No, indeed.) Dry Martini: Extremely smart farce. (Positively.) Me, Gangster: Too accurate to be in- teresting. (Read The Evening Amei" ican.) Three Week Ends: Clara Bow. (Dunt esk. ) The Dream of Love: Fred Niblo's direc tion and a kind of story. (Certainly.) The Awakening: Vilma Banky's, literally and (Oh so) figuratively. (Look!) Fazil: "The Sheik" with "Romeo and Juliet" for good measure. (If not par' ticularly busy.) White Shadows in the South Seas: More informative of Tahiti than a Winter there. (Yes.) Outcast: Corinne Griffith's best picture. (Look at it.) Masks of the Devil: Sophisticated and novel and containing John Gilbert. (Surely.) Companionate Marriage: Neither. (For get it.) Submarine: It sinks. (Not unless you were in the Navy.) The Home Towners: The stage play as staged. (Hear and see.) Revenge: Dolores Del Rio without point. (Detour.) Mother Knows Best: Conversely con' elusive. (Skip.) The Perfect Crime: Too truly titled. (Omit.) Beware of Bachelors: It doesn't show why. (Uh-uh.) Varsity: College without a football team. (Ditto.) The Farmer's Daughter: Well, there's a traveling salesman in it, but not that one. (Giddap.) i j-t r? jrr zy zr zs ±y jv-tt B THE DOBBS SUN BRIAR DOBBS HATS The captivating charm of the Dobbs SUN BRIAR, with its narrow brim tapering to a graceful flare at each side, is enhanced by the novel two-tone band. Dobbs Leight Weight Felt in gay colors. All head sizes. . . . $19.50 Dockstader & Sandberg 900 Michigan Boulevard North ONE BLOCK SOUTH OF DRAKE HOTEL — PARK WHILE SHOPPING S S s s s \ \ \ \ s s N s N 17 £T 17 L7 17 & 17 17 17 IT For the Brilliant Season "The Cfucdgoan," 407 So. Dearborn St., Chicago, Illinois Send "The Chicagoan" one year, $3 — two years, $5. (I have checked my choice as you will notice.) N.dme. Address.. 38 TUE CHICAGOAN For the Right Light- The Verscmal Rearfmglomp PATENTED READ now in real comfort, in any position, anywhere. Booklite clips on book-cover. Directs a soft, even light on both pages. Weighs only 3 oz. Costs 13. Complete with Mazda bulb, 8 ft. cord and plug. In Blue, Rose, Green, Red, Gold, Black, etc. Note: — Booklite is scientifically made to safeguard the eyes. Insist on the genuine— with Mazda bulb. Our trade y-\ n 0 J. Pro,ects J°u •nark |\°VTrTD I i th against inferior WJUUKXUii lmluUoiWi At al, best shops and department s:tjres. MELODELITE CORPORATION 130 W. 42d Street New York The Chduve Souris Club Under the patronage of H. H. Prince Michel Obolens^y Those Who Know and ta\e delight in \nowing their Rue Blanche — Pigalle — ^uartier Latin Soho — Piccadilly and Tvers\ayia now will find The Chauve Souris Club a Boit de 7>{uit Modelled faithfully after the original Chauve Souris of Moscow featuring the Gypsy Chorus — Russian and Cau casian dancers and the Chauve Souris Gypsy Orchestra. Managing director M. Leon De Modoff Eleven Thirty Seven South Hoisted Reservations — Monroe 2271 BOOK/ Forecast By SUSAN WILBUR YES, the time's come round again for buying your new diary, making your good resolutions, and starting your next year's Christmas savings account. And for such people as believe in being particularly conscientious about keep ing the New Year Mr. Morrow as pub lisher, supported by Mr. Roscoe as editor, has again provided an Alma nack. In "Morrow's Almanack for 1929" you will find everything that you would have found in Poor Richard's, and maybe a few things besides. Here is a Zodiac, drawn by Margaret Free man, as Margaret Freeman would draw it. Here month by month is the cal endar, with feast days and fast days marked, weather and events predicted, and some slight review of modern his tory, as: January 12, Saturday, Ruth Snyder and Judd Gray executed, 1928. Here is a complete analysis of your character, based on when you were born, here are wisecracks as up-to-date as Poor Richard's must have sounded when they were first made, here are recipes for baking red deer, and di rections for getting rid of a hangover. Here, too, are John Macy's book-of- the-week clubs, telling you what old books to read whenever a new one comes out — and excellent antidote, by the way, for this column or for what ever book page you read, including the Friday Literary Review of The Chi cago Evening Post (adv.). Here are future notes on the fashions, by Jean Charles Worth — they sound a little as though you might be able to wear some of your this year's clothes next year, but right here let's do a little predict ing of our own, and say that you prob ably won't. HERE are predictions about Florens Ziegfeld, and the younger gen eration, advice to air-passengers, and an essay on Simplified Clams. Here, in fact, are poems, essays, plays, and short stories, very short ones, that's how they get sixty authors into three hun- WW; Qmwfycb hip tfmkm- The CnMon iff (Pom- 7hB(Mhfih Bz/ilk- Qomhoiy Ihsi lake MumQww Hotel hhOrkaqy TWECWICACOAN 39 dred pages, upon every subject and by everyone imaginable from Witter Byn- ner to the editor of Punch. But was it Plato who said that every organism contains the seed of its own destruction? Alas, here, under May, is a suggestion by Richard Atwater for a reform of the Calendar. A drastic reform. And as everyone knows even the slightest reform made every five hundred years is enough to throw out an Almanack. What then of a sug gested reform whereof these sentences represent only a minor feature? "The next thing to reform is the seasons, which, as everyone has noticed, are changing anyway. One really never knows, does one, whether it is spring, two spades, summer, or Ex- Secretary Fall. By our reform, however, any spell of three hot days plus two cold days, or vice versa, are to be called a Full House. This beats two hearts, doubled, unless they have finessed and gone in for companionate marriage." "The Professor's Wife IT is the butler who speaks. But he speaks with a Chicago accent — of which the Professor's Wife is trying to cure him. He also plays the violin and belongs to a fraternity and must not be interrupted, except to serve tea, when he is at his lessons. And it is not so much of the Professor's wife that he writes as of the Professor's Wife's house and the Professor's Wife's sandwiches, two altars upon which are sacrificed everything from visiting cele brities — called by their right names — to the wives of other professors. But unlike "Gray Towers" the satire is not upon life in any particular college town, and even if some Professor's Wife somewhere should recognize her self, the things that the butler, or the author, Bravig Imbs, says about her figure and her social tactics will be more than balanced by what he says about her house-furnishings — exclusive of the piano — and her cooking. Paragraph Pastime Morrow's Almanack for the Year of Our Lord 1929: Being 153 years since the Declaration of Independ ence, 56 YEARS SINCE THE EMANCIPA' tion Proclamation, 10 years since the 18th Amendment, and 1,497 Million Years since the Beginning of the Earth. Burton Rascoe Philom. (William Morrow and Co.) "As in 1928, containing an Unique and Enter' taining Observatory of men and man' ners, the past, the present and future. Wit for the light-minded and instruc' WHILE yet the occasion of a gay and gracious New Year is pleasantly in mind, might it not be well to insure a twelvemonth of alert, knowing and highly contemporary reading matter? WE mention The Chicagoan as the one unquestionably civil ized publication indigenous to the local scene and — through the always increasing staff of brilliant contributors — more and more acutely responsive to the Town's varied aspects. THERE is no coupon. Subscriptions may be entered at the business and editorial offices, four-o-seven South Dearborn street, Chicago, fifteenth floor. Three dollars the year. Five dollars for two years. 40 THE CHICAGOAN fonsulting Decorator Planning Designing Furnishing of fine Home Interiors Architectural Suggestions Herbert G. Moore Illinois Women's Athletic Club Bldg. 820 Michigan Ave., North Superior 8868 FEW people genu inely prefer hap hazard theatre. \ These folk pick a show — any night will do — go to it on impulse, and cheerfully accept as part ef the ven ture whatever box office culls may be had at the ticket window. Theatre is a lark, an adventure, an experience. And, occasionally, a de lightful impromptu. More prudent theatregoers, however, consult a competent review before hand. They select a definite evening. And then, out of a thorough knowl edge of the suave practice of the Town, have recourse to Couthoui, Inc.,1" for acceptable tickets. Couthoui for tickets 'Branches at all the lead ing hotels and clubs. tion for the serious. All as set down by the distinguished writers who contribute to this vol. pieces never before seen in print. With Calendars, Forecasts, Prophecies for the Weather, the Fashions, Lunations, Horoscopes, Advice, Recipes and Preventatives." The Professor's Wife, by Bravig Imbs. (Lincoln MacVeagh.) The high life of a college town. Lily Christine : A Romance by Michael Arlen. (Doubleday, Doran and Co.) Patient Griselda in terms of that part of London society whose faces become familiar through the illustrated weeklies. Lily Christine remains a good wife through her husband's various "pieces of nonsense," and even when he "turns on her with the Albert Memorial," namely Mrs. Abbey the virtuous actress, and Mrs. Abbey tries to make it appear that she isn't. Prevailing Winds, by Margaret Ayer Barnes. (Houghton Mifflin Company.) Short stories centering in Chicago, some of them with characters that you can almost imagine you recognize. The Strange Necessity, by Rebeca West (Doubleday, Doran S" Co.) The neces- sity in question in these critical essays is that of artistic expression. Miss West's theory of its genesis and value was formed after she had read James Joyce's "Ulysses" and Pavlov's account of his experiments in conditioning the reflexes of dogs. And then Miss West just put two and two together. The result is extremely interesting and quite probably true. Paris: Salons, Cafe6 and Studios, by Sisley Huddleston. (J. B. Lippincott Co.) Paris as a state of mind-— and a great deal about the American authors who live there altogether or visit there. Mr. Huddleston's discussion of the per' sonality and work of Proust and of Andre Gide is especially interesting. Good-Bye, Wisconsin, by Glenway Wes- cott. (Harper and Brothers.) A last gleaning — short stories — of such material as won the Harper prize last year for Mr. Wescott's "The Grandmothers" — with France already creeping into Wis consin. Beneath Tropic Seas: A Record of Div ing Among the Coral Reefs of Haiti, by William Beebe, Sc.D. with sixty illustra tions. (G. P. Putnam's Sons.) More publicity for the diving helmet, — which in the gay coral forests of Haiti as in the purgatorial sea bottom off Galapagos yields such a pageant as never gets staged in broad daylight. The Silver Thorn: A Book of Stories, by Hugh Walpole. (Doubleday, Doran.) Stories which make plain a number of obscure points about human psychology, such as that to be in love means to be able to laugh together about the same things. Meet General Grant, by W. E. Wood ward. (Horace Liveright.) By careful analysis a simple character is converted into a complex one. — S. w. LUNCHEON— DINNER— SUPPER THOSE who demand some thing different and distinc tive in entertainment and cuisine — "they" are satisfied only with Petrushka. $etru£i)ka Clufo 165 North Michigan Avenue Telephone Dearborn 4388 Importers Now selling all remaining fall and winter model gowns, wraps and coats at one-half price. 6 N. Michigan Ave. Chicago INDOOK POLO CHICAGO'S indoor polo organisations have just launched what promises to be their great' est year at the galloping game. The best way to keep in touch is to sub' scribe to The Magazine of the Game" $? THE YEAR; $8 FOR TWO YEARS; $10 POR THREE YEARS Quigley Publishing Company 407 S. Dearborn St. Chicago QfTfiem Discover t£eyrf5rldj6rTfiemselves Curiosity is a great educator. Through curiosity Columbus discovered America. Every child has the capacity to discover a new world if you will help him. Each morning he starts out on a new voyage of discovery. Whether he finds anything new; whether he brings any real treasure into port at night—any cargo which is worth while, all depends upon you. He must not be allowed to drift aimlessly along shore but must be given some point to reach. Every hour of every day must be made to count in the education of your child and he can take with him on his daily voyage no guide so valuable as the Book of Knowledge; no friend so wise or so helpful; no companion better loved — it is the world of knowledge so successfully arranged, so beautifully explained, so fascinatingly illustrated that it never fails to capture the mind of a child. TTSTe One Great Gift of Childhood The Book of Knowledge with its 15,000 pictures that teach — a new edition finished and copyrighted in 1926, with more pictures, more colored plates, with a new library index and a new department of practical homework helps. The Book of Knowledge is the winner of six great international awards, including a medal of honor at the Sesqui-Centennial Exposition, on display in booths 46 and 47. Write for THE STORY OF CHICAGO Pages from The Book of Knowledge which tell in an interesting and authoritative manner the great tale of the magic city of the middle west have been bound in separate booklet form to show the full and able treatment of all the subjects in this great SEND THIS NOW work. Write for it today. We shall be glad to send THE THi >MAS" J~CAIE~COMPANY " thls to *<» frce of chargc' nor Wl11 the reqUCSt plaCC 307 N. fvji , Chicago Vou under ^ ^ligation. I Sole distributors for Chicago Gentleme Please maluTreeSTtTn"an?e to the undersigned a copy of THE STORY OF CHICAGO. — i The Thomas J. Caie Company of Illinois 307 N. Michigan Ave.