For For+n i c^bf Eo d i o£ January 2 6,1929 Price 15 Cents e* cvaaH g e. d £5 /"" cl*»* 15«* ^ V* S* e« I 5< &> J THE VICTOR ELECTROLA, MODEL NINE-EIGHTEEN PERFECT JURER-HETERCDyNE RECERTICN AND AN ENCHANT ING ELECTROLA IN AN EARLY ENGLI/H CABINET WHICH RADIATET CHARM AND LICNITy STEGER & SONS PIANO MFG. CO. 28 E. Jackson Blvd. THE CHICAGOAN 1 "All Ye Hostesses- Hear Me!" /'LL grant you that people are born with a latent love for embroidering, or a talent for fiddling. But a bridge player can acquire his art. There's sim ply no excuse for suffering people who trump their partner's aces and renig at random. Not while E. J. Tobin gives his expert counsel on Bridge Whist. He's the President of the Chicago Bridge Whist As sociation, and publishes a Whist lesson daily in the CHICAGO DAILY JOURNAL TWECUICAGOAN STAGE Musical Comedy RIO RITA— Illinois, 65 East Jackson. Harrison 6510. This large and eye- filling spectacle moves on January 19 for ROSALIE with Marilyn Miller and Jack Donahue which should cause something of a ripple at the Illinois. The latter to be reviewed. Curtain 8:20. Sat. and Wed. 2:20. GOLDEN. DAWN becomes a sunset on January 15. It is followed by — HELLO YOURSELF— Four Cohans, 119 North Clark. Central 8240. A musical piece also to be reviewed. Curtain 8:15 and 2:15. LOVELY LADY— Garrick, 64 West Ran dolph. Central 8240. Mitzi, singing a bit better English, in a dandy display reviewed by Charles Collins on page 28. Curtain 8:15 and 2:15. MUSIC IN MAY— Great Northern, 20 West Quincy. Central 8240. Somehow the Shubert boys will not get their shows opened to meet the press time of this magazine. Therefore, Mr. Collins will speak of this piece at a later date. Cur- tain 8:15 and 2:15. THE DESERT SONG— Majestic, 22 West Monroe. Central 8240. A revival of a last year's lavish and tuneful hit closes January 19 for JUST A MINUTE. The latter to be reviewed. BLOSSOM TIME— Studebaker, 418 South Michigan. This operetta pieced together out of Franz Schubert tunes will be with' drawn January 21 for THE MER CHANT OF VENICE with George Ar- liss. A two-week run, and The Strat- ford-on-Avon Festival Players from Eng land will continue two weeks longer with Shakespearian roles. Drama COQUETTE— Selwyn, 180 North Dear born. Central 3404. Helen Hayes, a splendid actress in this tragic piece, awarded high honors by Charles Collins on page 28. Curtain 8:30. Thursday and Saturday 2:30. THE BACHELOR FATHER— Blackstone, 60 East Seventh. Harrison 6609. Very funny, having to do with the irregular results hinted in title. Reviewed on page 28. Curtain 8:30. Saturday only, 2:30. THE FRONT PAGE— Erlanger, 127 North Clark. State 2461. The Hecht-McAr- thur scarehead on the newspaper business. A salty, vulgar, hectic whale of an eve ning. By all means. Curtain 8:30. Sat urday matinee only, 2:30. THE TRIAL OF MARY DUGAN— Adel- phi, 11 North Clark. Randolph 4466. A genuinely taking melodrama with Ann Harding accused and acquitted in a con- THE CHICAGOAN PRESENTS January, by Clarence Biers Cover Current Goings On, for the fortnight ending January 26 Page 2 A Play, by Simon L. Rameynn 3 Table Talk 4 Notes and Comments By Martin ]. i^utgley 7 Speaking Cinema, by William R. Weaver 9 Intimate Chicago View, by Burton Browne 12 The Union League Club, by James Weber Linn 13 Adventures in Insomnia, by Francis C Coughlin 15 A Poetic Acceptance, by Donald Plant 16 Interviews Intimes, by John Gihon.... 17 Calamity, by Sid Hix 18 Town Talk 19 Arthur Cutten — Chicagoan, by Robert Pollak 23 The Fire Fan's Ass'n, by Francis C Coughlin 25 Weather Note, by Hermina Deutsch 27 The Stage, ,by Charles Collins 28 Music, by Robert Pollak 30 Newsprint, by Ezra 32 The Chicagoenne, by Arcye Will 34 Cinema, William R. Weaver 36 Books, by Susan Wilbur 38 vincing court scene. A good evening. Curtain 8:30. Sat. and Wed. 2:30. THE WAR SONG— Harris, 170 North Dearborn. Central 1880. A son of Shem goes forth to war, with results summarized on page 28. Curtain 8:30. Sat. and Wed. 2:30. APPEARANCES — Princess, 1 59 South Clark. Central 8240. A difficult piece to describe in tabloid fashion. See the formal review on page 28. Curtain 8:30. Sat. and Wed. 2:30. THE SCARLET WOMAN— Cort, 132 North Dearborn. Central 0019. Paul ine Fredericks in a gladsome performance of the above naughty title. To be re viewed. Curtain 8:30. Sat. and Wed 2:30. SIX CHARACTERS IN SEARCH OF AN AUTHOR — Goodman Memorial, Lakefront at Monroe. Central 7085. A tragedy done by the Goodman players and something worth seeing. To be re viewed. Curtain 8:20. Mat. Friday 2:20. No Sunday performance. REVIVALS— Minturn Central, 64 East Van Buren, Harrison 5800; Chateau, Broadway at Grace, Lakeview 7170; Ked- zie, 3202 West Madison, Kedzie 1134. These theatres re-offer last year's notable hits and afford a chance for the negli gent theatre-goer to complete his sched ule of plays. All pretty well done. Call theatres themselves for program informa tion. 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, people and, usually, pictures. McVICKERS — 25 W. Madison — The Town's next best cinema. Talkative pic tures. ROOSEVELT— 110 N. State— Where good pictures go when they leave McVickers. MONROE — Monroe at Dearborn — ^\ recondite, restful and usually uncrowded place to see good pictures. ORPHEUM— State at Monroe— The most talkative picture program in Town. Also audience. CHICAGO— State at Lake — Biggest down town auditorium. Pictures, music, vaude ville and whatnot. Of the best. [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: 565 Fifth Ave. Los Angeles Office: 5617 Hollywood Blvd. Subscription $3.00 annually, single copies 15c. Vol. VI, No 9 —for the Fortnight ending January 26. (On sale January 12.) Entered as second class matter, March 25. 1927, at the Post-Office at Chicago, 111 under the act of March 3, 1879. [The Chicagoan's telephone number is Harrison 0036-7-8.] TWtCMICAGOAN 3 Four Characters In Search of a Director The Revealing Script of a Prohlem Play By SIMON L. RAMEYNN SCEnE: A Night Club. Off stage a negro band two-timing a mel ody for which, someone should be pad\oc\ed. Characters in the order of spea\ing. Deveraux (inspecting the gin- gerale): The agricultural depres sion has set me thinking. What this country needs is more gingerale. Farmers should raise more ginger- ale. John: No, not gingerale. Let them stick to cider. To cider. Gin gerale is none of the farmer's busi ness. What we need is a tariff reduction on the gingerale we have. That plus overconsumption. Now the politician understands this well. Be his vote wet or dry, rest assured he doesn't spare the gingerale. Marilla: I foresee corrupt politics if those two go on. Elizabeth: Personally, I sus pect pollution. Marilla: Ah, life is so compli cated, so amorphous, so intricate under the smooth pastel of gen eralisations. Deveraux (in haste to Eliza beth): Shan't we dance? I feel that the others want to talk. John (aside to Deveraux): Beetle! Deveraux: I meant, I thought you two might wish to talk about us. Elizabeth: Very gracefully re trieved, Dev. But if you do dance I'm afraid the manager may speak to us both, as well as about us. You recall, twice this evening — John: There! It is woman who constantly points out to man his higher interests. It is she who is the constant index of any civiliza tion. It is she who is the lode star to our variable and unlovely natures. Deveraux (somewhat nettled): If I remember, it was the manager who spoke to me. Not the man ager's mother. And certainly not Elizabeth. Elizabeth : Do go on talking about life, Marilla. Deveraux: If you do, I warn you the evening will degenerate into a truth party. Each one of us will be the unwilling possessor of a lot of very commonplace confessions. John: No. The young ladies may count on me for at least three handsome and fatuous exaggerations. And, really, Dev, you could do something splendid if you would only set your mind to it. Marilla: I was only saying that life is so very complicated. It's as if Aldous Huxley wrote a play and gave us all parts in it. John: Then we should live to be at least 1,000,000 years old. No ordinary, mortal centenarian could get half way into the prologue. Deveraux (to a waiter): Tony, a round of elixirs. Marilla: But supposing that this play dealt only with one phase of life. Or supposing that it could be greatly simplified. John: What a sorry bob-tailed skit that would be for Huxley to work on. But he'd expand it. That man could expand the lettering on a Lincoln penny to a three-volume set. Elizabeth: I think Marilla has an idea. What she wants, after all, is some fairly compact summary of a given environment. John : Yes, that certainly should be possible. Deveraux (answering waiter): What? You have no elixirs? Joe never heard of elixirs? Then tell him to make it four of the same! Elizabeth: She was unfor tunate in using Huxley's name. His method is laborious. His ideas, for the most part, are very simple. John: But just what are you driving at, Marilla? Marillla: Well, take the Town. It has so many aspects, so many phases. One never knows just what is being done outside one's own bailiwick. Oh, in a general way, we know that there is a new show at the Institute. That St. Olaf Choir sings here the 21st. That heavy German opera is being tried again. We know a few things about modern painters, and particu larly those on the local scene. You have a fair knowledge of sports and stage. Elizabeth is interested in books and music. And Elizabeth and I follow dress. But formal re views of these things are so in ordinately lengthy, so necessarily dull— Deveraux: Thanks, Tony; you have saved life this evening. And bring me another round right away. I feel a change coming over this party. We may go places — Elizabeth : I wish, for instance, I had Dev's knowledge of places to go. My dears, it's encyclopaedic. John: Oh, Deveraux reads, too. Indeed he does. Manila's been out of touch with the Town. Two years abroad and of course Chicago seems complex. No wonder, with out — Elizabeth : How very obvious, John. Of course you're right — Deveraux: Let's dance, Eliza beth. Elizabeth: Thank you, Dev. Yes. It will take just one second to tell Marilla that if she is to be aware of the Town, to be informed pleas antly and literately about the very things we've mentioned she must read The Chicagoan. 4 TI4ECWICAG0AN ORIENTAL— 20 W. Randolph— Youngest audience in Town. Pictures, Brooke Johns and things like that. NORTH — Granada, Uptown and Sheridan, with just possibly the Norshore, are, and show, the best. SOUTH— Avalon, Tivoli, Capitol and Pic cadilly afford, in about that order, enter tainment both filmy and fleshly. WEST — Marbro, Paradise, Senate, Hard ing and State are pleasantly up-to;date and more or less accessible. 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. St. Olaf Choir — Orchestra Hall, Jan. 21, 8:15 p. m. Perhaps the finest a capella singing in the world is afforded by this splendid group under the direction of F. Melius Christiansen. Concerts — Minneapolis Symphony Or chestra, Henri Verbrugghen, conductor, concert, Orchestra Hall, Sunday after noon, January 13th, at 3:30. Henri Temianka, violinist, recital, Studebaker Theatre, Sunday afternoon, January 13th, at 3:30. Remo Bolognini, violinist, mem ber of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, recital, The Playhouse, Sunday afternoon, January 13 th, at 4 o'clock. Marie Mor- risey, contralto, recital, Orchestra Hall, Tuesday evening, January 15th, at 8:15. Abram Schonberger, violinist, recital, Kimball Hall, Wednesday evening, Janu ary 16th, at 8:15. Rosa Low, soprano, recital, The Playhouse, Sunday after noon, January 20th, at 3:30. Chicago Wood Wind Ensemble, concert, Kimball Hall, Sunday afternoon, January 20th, at 3:30. Prague Teachers' Chorus, Pro fessor Metod Dolezil, conductor, concert, Auditorium Theatre, Sunday evening, January 20th, at 8:15. John Charles Thomas, baritone, recital, Studebaker Theatre, Sunday afternoon, January 27th, at 3:30. Harold Samuel, pianist, in a series of three Bach recitals, The Play house, first concert of the series Sunday afternoon, January 27th, at 3:30, second concert Sunday afternoon, February 24th, at 3:30, and third concert Sunday after noon, March 10th, at 3:30. Miriam Mesirow and Rosalyn Tureck, pianists, joint recital, Kimball Hall, Sunday after noon, January 27th. Rosa Raisa, so prano, and Giacomo Rimini, baritone, joint recital, benefit music scholarship fund, Auditorium Theatre, Sunday eve ning, January 27th. TABLES BLACKSTONE HOTEL— 656 South Mich igan. Harrison 4300. An inn long known as a kind of institute of civiliza tion. Always a high point. Margraff's music. August Dittrich is maitre d 'hotel. STEVENS HOTEL— 730 South Michigan. Wabash 4400. Largest of Chicago ho tels, the Stevens is nicely geared down to meet individual requirements. The Stevens All Star Orchestra plays to diners and dancers in the main dining room [listings begin on page 2] from 6:30 to 9:30 p. m. Stalder is headwaiter. CONGRESS HOTEL— Congress at Michi gan. Harrison 3800. A show place wise to the boulevard and gleaming to the reputation of Peacock Alley and the Bal loon Room. Johnny Hamp's smooth band. Ray Barrette is headwaiter. PALMER HOUSE— State at Monroe. Ran dolph 7500. A centrally located stopping place, very gracious, very comfortable. An exceptionally good orchestra — formal music. Juan Muller is maitre d'hotel. EDGEWATER BEACH HOTEL— Marine Dining Room. Longbeach 6000. An eminently respectable dining and dancing choice. Nice people. A competent band under the baton of Ted Fiorito. William is headwaiter. CLUB AMBASSADEUR— 226 East On tario. Delaware 0930. A most suave and superior night refuge. Merry, late, discreet and knowing. Arnet Nelson's band, Helen Burke's voice, entertainers, hostesses and all proper night club ac coutrements. Until 7 a. m. or the third milkman. CLUB ALABAM— 747 Rush. Delaware 3260, 3818, 3819. A very worldly place, late and lively. Entertainers, hostesses. Professor Eddie Jackson's negro band and good dancing space. Southern and Chi nese cookery. Gene Harris is headwaiter. GRANADA CAFE— 6800 Cottage Grove. Hyde Park 0646. Though it is painful to recall a recent shooting affair at this club, we here do so only to assure pros pective patrons that it is young, alert, altogether safe and decent. Guy Lom- bardo offers the best dance music in town. Billy Leather is headwaiter. PETRUSHKA CLUB— 165 North Michi gan. Dearborn 4388. A highly selective Russian night place offering superb food, splendid service, novel entertainment and the best night people. Reserve week-end tables early in the week. Khmara is mas ter of ceremonies. Kinsky is chief servi tor. CLUB APEX— 330 East 35th. Douglas 4878. A black and tan patronized by nice people out for a lark. Only if vou like that sort of thing, and then — fine. Jimmy Noone's band. Frankie Sine is headwaiter. CHEZ PIERRE— Ontario and Fairbanks Court. Superior 1347. An old standby in night listings. Large, innocent, well- known and a great place for the visiting buyer or cousin Hattie from La Salle, Illinois. Music by Hoffman. Paul is headwaiter. COLLEGE INK— Hotel Sherman. Frank lin 2100. A well known place, some times a bit middle-aged, but offering the best entertainment available, usually by authentic stage stars. Braun is head- waiter. BAL TAB ARIN— Hotel Sherman. A late, intimate, tuneful club frequented by genu ine sun dodgers and discreetly merry un til the morning paper thumps on the door. Very good people. Dick Reed is headwaiter. CHAUVE SOURIS CLUB— 1137 South Halsted. Monroe 2271. New and Rus sian in a colorful district, this club is making something of a name for itself. A Gypsy orchestra. Closes in time for Sunday school. TURKISH VILLAGE— 606 North Clark. Delaware 1456. A joint guaranteed to keep any party awake. Try it. KELLY'S STABLES — Rush at Austin. Delaware 2142. The noisiest night place in Chicago, which is probably the noisi est in the universe. Crowded, informal (oh, very!), Greek letter and cheap. All the gingerale you can drink for a dollar. Johnny Makeley is headwaiter. LAKESHORE DRIVE HOTEL— 181 Lake- shore Drive. Superior 8500. The glit ter of the genuine gold coast, wealthy, suave, aloof, impeccable. John Birgh is headwaiter. DRAKE HOTEL — Lakeshore Drive at Michigan. Superior 2200. One of the places where you always meet someone you know, comfortable, highly proper, en joyable, complete. Excellent music. Nota ble service and cuisine. Peter Ferris is headwaiter. NINE HUNDRED— A new and admirable restaurant, formal for dinner, which con sistently numbers the best people among its patrons. As the name indicates, 900 North Michigan. Within healthful walk ing distance for lunch. BELMONT HOTEL— 3156 Sheridan Road. Bittersweet 2100. An alert and reliable inn long a favorite with dwellers on the mid-north side. Competent food, service, appointments. SHORELAND HOTEL— 5454 Southshore Drive. Plaza 1000. A superior dinner choice anywhere on the south side, an easy jaunt out from the Loop. Extremely palatable French cooking. Dinner music by Joska Barbary. BREVOORT HOTEL— 120 West Madi son. Franklin 2363. An aware choice for a downtown dinner, from 6 to 8 a string quartette of formal concert quality and dishes in the American style. ST. HUBERT'S OLD ENGLISH GRILL —316 Federal. Webster 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. RED STAR INK— 1528 North Clark. Delaware 3942. German dishes sump tuously done in vast portions. As quaint and soothing a dining room as exists here abouts. JULIEN'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. The dinner promptly at 6:30. 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 OYSTER 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. TWE CHICAGOAN Uvvs. Jolui B. Dtake, Jk. SAYS jus nmDJs » I FIND the Dowager's column in the Herald and Examiner particularly pleasing, alert and entertaining. This editor seems to know most of the interesting people in Chicago. She also knows when and why they are doing interesting things. "From the Dowager you find out who is going to Africa to hunt lions and who from Chicago will be on the He de France at her next sailing. Or if somebody s yacht is going around the world, you can be sure OPEN SCHOOL ON ROOF FOR YOUNGSTERS Mrs. Ogden T. McClarg Responsible for School Atop Lakejhore Home BYTHEDOWAGER. WELL-,he™„- v ,.«t«.ny. * all ihe noise ana «°*V y ,or them oriIy blu. Uk« »"d 'f„ Vdozcn of the %*&££?£>» ©* <*•* »« earning their ""^^ ;<«¦•£ that the Dowager will be among the first to tell you. She catches whatever is news. "The Dowager has a way of say ing things inaninteresting way. Her style is informal and entertaining. This style seems to me characteristic of the whole paper." Do you read the society columns of the Herald and Examiner? They scan the gay old city from the South Shore way out to Lake Forest They are unfailingly accurate, always gracious and charming. ..a pleasing notebook on the comings and goings of Chicago's most interesting people. Look at the column below and see what a pleasant few minutes is in store for you every morning in the Herald and Examiner. Mr.. Mct'lii'K'1".11" * -' .sr'"".. 1,'ave ki.i'l'-'*.-""" ,"i„ and Barbara to n»va 0 irfnlttW And lt»» >( several ,lcUr.l><"' Sh'tlie mo* twj( kii.der«.rlen. Roekelell "" Y„„ probably "»»f £¦ I'm" H.roU Mc- S"n,!r",irf^--^ . .llllll) ' ¦'""" ' . ''" ,' , , lot i..'.l«ctvMl. THERE are few young matrons in Chicago more ver* satile than Mrs. John B. Dra\e, Jr. Her real genius, it is said, may be found in the appointing of a perfectly ordered home. Childhood years on the famous Sin. issippi Farm have made her an accomplished horsewoman although her real athletic passion is for golf. Much of the time she devotes to recreation is spent at the palatial summer residence of her father on the Thousand Islands Mrs. John B. Dra^e, Jr. is the daughter of Ex- Governor Franco. Lowdtn. A piquant beauty, sin' cere graciousness and unaffected charm of manner areamongthe qualities thatgiveriermdisputaMeranl; among the outstanding young matrons of Chicago Mrs. John 6. Drake. Jr., one of the most charming young matrons in Chicago Society TJte most important story in the world Somewhere each day the most important news story in all the world happens. And there— on the spot— will usually be found a Herald and Examiner reporter. As you read his story, the drama of it will hold you, for Herald and Examiner re porters have the instincts and the discipline of great news writers. One of the most brilliant staffs of writers and cartoonists ever assembled on a single newspaper, produce the contents of each day's Herald and Examiner. 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. And the anonymous writers who report the world's daily drama in the news columns of the Herald and Examiner are the highest paid men and women in the profession. This great staff provides more than 435.OO0 families with a newspaper full of interesting, wide-awake news, alert edi torial comment and pleasant mental recre ation every morning. If you are not familiar with it now, get a Herald and Examiner tomorrow. Enjoy it. You will make it a morning habit. 6 THE CHICAGOAN iDnoes J01P Southern \^li imes On the golden sands . . . beneath the sunny southland skies you 11 see them. II you are a Iortunate fashionable who wall leave the winter behind, you 11 wear them . . . these Linen Slippers so beguilingly broidered . . . the smartest of all Southern Footwear styles and colors. Tangerine, Citron I ellow, Lavender, Palmette Green, Horizon Blue. the t3alon of WOLOCK & BAUER MICHIGAN AVENUE AT MADISON STREET CHICAGO CHICAGOAN WHEN Mr. William Randolph Hearst arrives at one of the infrequent moments at which he feels im- pelled to write a piece for his papers the observant reader is in for a neat little lesson in the art of writing the English language in its plainest, most direct and most under standable manner. When Mr. Hearst really wants some thing written he need place no dependence on any of his hired craftsmen; his own agile pen and dictated word result in saying something; and that something is said with a directness and effectiveness that is rarely paralleled in the public prints. Upon these occasions even his master penman, Mr. Arthur Brisbane, draws modestly into the background. Mr. Hearst celebrated the New Year with a long tele gram to his newspapers in which he announced a prise contest for a solution of the problem of getting the Eight eenth Amendment repealed. In it he pointed to two great influences for temperance — the Episcopal Church and the Hearst newspapers, reciting them in this order, and then added that he modestly put the Episcopal Church first. While it may be considered that a contest plan, of any kind and from any source, may not conceivably be a broad jump toward a solution of the Question, still Mr. Hearst's scheme seems insured against the production of the extraor dinary and perverted manifestations given rise to by the Mr. W. C. Durant dry enforcement competition. In the latter, one contestant urged that dry law violators should be hung by the tongue to an airplane and carried over the United States; another suggested government distribution of poisoned liquor through bootleggers. In defense of this second and — may it be said — some what inconsiderate plan it was argued that only a few hundred thousand persons would die and it would be worth this to get prohibition enforced. Both of these suggestions were made by what used to be referred to quaintly aa the gentler sex. ? THE New York Central Railroad has been called by The Tribune a bad citizen and the price put upon its restoration to respectability is the electrification of its system within the limits of Chicago. We would deal with the New York Central, at least for the present, on a considerably more reasonable basis and would be willing to acknowledge better citizenship by the performance of certain acts which would entail a consid erably less exaction upon its treasury. We would ask that the terrors of Twentieth Century Limited arrival in Chicago be somewhat lessened. If this is impossible, then Chicagoans, returning home, who board "The Century" in New York, should be plainly labeled and subjected in Grand Central Terminal to certain care fully thought-out annoyances and inconveniences so that arrival in the homeland should not be in such great con trast to departure from New York. While we profess no intimacy with the problems of railroading, we still make bold to suggest that we see no reason why a corps of station porters could not be organ ised which would at least create the illusion of being there for the comfort of patrons. With this done it would be less easy to believe that LaSalle Station porters comprise some sort of an enfranchised club with a highly restricted membership, enjoying a charter which provides for high return and small service. While, again, it may all be due to our lack of enlighten ment concerning the intricacies of railroading, still we won der why a great railway system which is enabled to trans port a passenger in safety and comfort, with a dash of luxury, from New York to Chicago is unable to do better for him than the agonies of the motor concourse in LaSalle Station. Here the passenger must first busy himself with frantic search for luggage which he has earlier succeeded, by virtue of a properly deferential manner, in getting one of the club-fellow porters to load upon a luggage truck. After this operation the luggage disappears into the underground and its recovery hangs uncertainly upon the fortunes of the above-mentioned search. If the search happily ends in success, then there is the little matter of boarding one's own car or a taxi. If the former plan has been under consideration it is well to abandon it at once, making mental note that when the chauffeur telephones later he will be properly, censured for not reaching the boarding platform, although it will be realised that this is only done by accident or by miraclemen. And then with much patience and some agile jumping about a taxi may be had — or at least there are instances of record — and finally, if the gaseous atmosphere of the motor concourse has not in itself been too much, the home coming has been achieved. Yes, there are a few details this side of electrification that might be attended to. ? IN just fifteen minutes, while assembled about a luncheon table at the Blackstone Hotel last week, a group of Chicago sportsmen subscribed two million dollars for the reorganisation of the Arlington race course venture. This incident, it may be said, represents one of the greatest assurances for the future of the sport of thoroughbred racing that has been accomplished in this or any other day — or place. — MARTIN J. QUIGLEY 8 TWECI4ICAC0AN kangola^ a modern dull leather our classic pump in dull black, for instance, with a new pearl buckle* tke pump, 14.00 buckle, 5.00 sak$~f if th avenue new york women's shoes - • - fourth floor 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. THE CHICAGOAN 9 The Cinema's Gift o' Gab A Good Many Words About the Now Quite Wordy Motion Picture THREAD the West Park system, consult a Standard Oil road map, turn to the right and ask a policeman. He will know the way to the West ern Electric company's manufacturing plant. He will not know that three thousand men are there employed in the operation of a million dollars' worth of machinery which turns out all the talking-picture apparatus used in all the world. They are and it does.. Further, the dubious miracle just now By WILLIAM R. WEAVER on everyone's tongue and in everyone's ear was cradled, not at all tenderly, within this enclosure. But that is not the beginning of the story. The story of the talking-picture be gins in 1908. The financial panic of the preceding twelvemonth has passed. A nation reposes abiding faith in Presi dent Roosevelt. Peace and prosperity, as the subtitles have it, brood over a complacent people. (Close-up of doves in tree, cow crossing brook, children homeward bound from school house topped by shiny new light ning-rod.) A caravan sets out from the Edison laboratory in East Orange, New Jersey, carry ing the first talking-pictures. The wisard has contrived the miracle by placing a monster model of his phonograph back of a screen, connected by a timing-cable to a standard model of his projection machine in front. Musical selections are played. Speech is reproduced. "Perfected synchron isation!" "Seductive sound!" (Bala ban & Kats are unheard of on West Madison Street.) But nobody cares. Everybody wants to see that blonde Biograph Girl in a D. W. Griffith two- reeler. Speech? That is the province of the stage. State Street ignores the glowing emblems flaunted by the Bijou- Dream. The Edison caravan passes out of the picture. EIGHTEEN years flicker past. John Bunny has died, a war is being forgotten and mechanical-minded gen tlemen employed by the Bell Telephone Laboratories have constructed a receiver capable of amplifying a given sound "Do you know what it's like to be burning1 up inside with hopeless love?' 10 TWECMICAGOAN without distorting it. Electrical rec ording and reproduction have elimi nated needle-scratch. Synchronisation was never a problem. (Edison is busy devising a rubber plant that will grow in Florida.) A Western Electric rep resentative goes to tell the motion pic ture people that one of them may now endow his dramas with dialogue and be come even more fabulously wealthy. He returns with the astounding report that all have listened, to his salestalk as well as to his apparatus, and have politely but quite positively declined to become interested. All? All but one. This one is Mr. Harry Warner, of the Warner Broth ers (4 — count 'em — 4) of Hollywood, Broadway, and just now of Chicago. The Warner brothers, their fortunes at low ebb for the fourth time in two decades of motion picture activity, are in solemn conclave with their aides and advisors at the Congress Hotel. The footsore representative of Western Elec tric is calling. Harry Warner receives him, listens, perceives the well-known selling angle! A conference, for the business-minded Warner family is family-minded in business, and Vita- phone is acquired. The four hoarse- men (who pay handsomely for worse puns than that) write their own ticket. Wall Street, rallying again to the Warner call, underwrites it. This is April, 1926. Such a kaleido scope of events as directors have learned to employ in denoting the World War (battles do not reproduce well in sound) now smears the screen. Dia logue is attempted and temporarily abandoned; vaudeville acts are recorded in the first sound-proof studio, to be exhibited in conjunction with the fic tion features as proof that synchronisa tion is possible. The Warners scamper busily east and west preparing for the great public test. It will decide the fate of Vitaphone and the brothers. Four months are allowed for prepara tion. ON September 15, 1926, a gilt Mc- Vickers theatre, third in the tra dition, bristles with the snowy shirt- fronts of the Town's influence and in tellect — in that order. LaSalle Street, Press, City Hall and Lake Shore Drive cluster a bit consciously under glaring incandescents until now unsuspected of a cinema descendent from Booth and Barrett. The little big men of film- dom move stealthily along the fringe of the auditorium, exchange low, profes sional whispers, wag shrewd white heads. What will Chicago say of Vita- phone? Lights go down. Drapes part over a familiar expanse of darkly scintillant surface. Wordy, wary statements are unrolled upon this surface, trail off mysteriously above as recruit legends, precisely phrased, ably edited, roll up from the nowhere below. Introducing the still somewhat majestic Will H. Hays, lean Yankee neck in arena-like collar and office-creased coat, at desk. He stands — the image measures fourteen feet from patent leather shoes to hair that matches — and in words of one syl lable and one thousand lung-power he utters the shout heard 'round the world. "VUaphone!" He mentions the Warner Brothers and Western Electric, favorably. He can be heard anywhere within rifleshot. There is a lasy infantry-fire of ap plause. Mr. Hays is hopeful of Vita- phone. So is Chicago. Hope is host tonight in McVickers. Confidence beams from the elaborate souvenir pro gram on the lap of the audience — and the gods. The show begins. THE New York Philharmonic Or chestra plays "Tannhauser." Good, Mischa Elman bows "Humoresque." Fair, a little mechanical. Roy Smeck tinkles a vulgar banjo. Excellent. Marion Talley is shrill to "Rigoletto." Martinelli's "Pagliacci" sustains faith. But it is Barrymore, the great John in his best Hollywood jest, that triumphs. He is Fairbanks, he is Valentino, he is "Don Juan" and he is Barrymore. This audience decides that he is Vita- phone. Vitaphone is good. The morning papers declare that Vitaphone is wonderful and print the names of notables a press agent says were present. Mrs. Rockefeller Mc- Cormick is one. The Town's premiere movie fan, however, issues no state ment to the press. A proud inauguration. But a false augury. Two years later Gene Markey is to coin "shouties" as a descriptive epithet so terrible that it will obliterate such lesser defamations as "talkies,"' "speakies" and my own prideful "noisies," to perish in turn before the highly respectable "audiens." The brothers Warner are to lose four mil lion dollars, one of them is to die, and the survivors are to make ten million dollars in 1928. Los Angeles echoes Chicago ancj New York approval of the premiere program. Lesser metropoli in propor tion. Warners rush on. Cinemas in ¦ TI4CCMICAG0AN n strategic positions, and willing to pay the $25,000 initial cost, install equip ment and Vitaphone becomes a fact. But shortly after becoming a fact it loses lustre. There is a perceptible lull in public enthusiasm. A competitor arrives on the scene and fading trade revives. MR. WILLIAM FOX, older in mo tion pictures than the Warners and financed by the fruits of unbroken success, announces Movietone. It is April, 1927. Movietone, Western Electric cradle-mate to Vitaphone, dif fers from the latter in that sound waves are recorded upon and reproduced from the celluloid film instead of wax discs. Mr. Fox wisely begins with newsreels (everybody likes them and there are no bad ones) and attains a realism not yet achieved. Warners have been noise- editing their pictures. But newsreels are not feature pictures. More doldrums. Movietone, like Vitaphone, is pronounced by Mr. John American Public to be quite all right but totally unnecessary. Indifference is cinema death. A fancied number of million dollars is a modest estimate of the investment. A very limited num ber of cinemas are equipped to utilise the pictures. More cinemas must be equipped — and persuaded to permit it. Talking pictures must be supplied to the public in volume so that the public may give birth to a volume demand for the sup ply. Mahomet's overhead is greater than his dignity. Western Electric is awarding licenses and supplying equipment contrived to accommodate either Movietone or Vita phone pictures. Any producer who wishes to do so may avail himself of the new adornment, at a practical fig ure. The price of cinema equipment is reduced and terms are arranged. All laboriously detailed operations, time- consuming revisions and alterations. Overhead races the more swiftly. GEORGE JESSEL is engaged to en act "The Jass Singer." He learns that he is to sing, having acquired a name for singing, and demands more salary. His contract is cancelled. Al Jolson is substituted. (There is only one earlier cinema experience on Mr. Jolson's record : He started a picture for D. W. Griffith, saw the first shots and then immediately took the first steamer for Europe, leaving Mr. Griffith with the unfinished picture and a law suit.) There is apprehension, but need presses. Jolson enjoys Hollywood, makes "The Jass Singer" with his tongue in his cheek, calls it a vacation. "The Jass Singer" makes more millions of dollars than anyone cares to estimate thus early in its history — it will run at least ten years, pioneering the talking picture in the world's remote places- — and it makes Vitaphone! As 1929 begins to write itself more readily, one thousand cinemas in the world are equipped to offer talking pictures. Four or five thousand cinemas are advertising them, for at least this many crafty showmen have installed talking-machines and microphones with which they more or less counterfeit syn chronisation. When 1929 perishes in the New Year's Eve drought of a sorely amended nation, four thousand cinemas will house watch-parties that will not only watch but listen. BUT that will be 1930. There will be more talking-pictures and less talk about them. While they are princi pally a topic of conversation, the fol lowing information is useful: If the left edge of a picture being viewed seems drawn in, it's a film rec ord — Movietone. If not, and if an occasional subtitle is protracted long enough to permit changing a record on your Brunswick, it's Vitaphone. If the advertisement reads "seductive sound" or is similarly subtle, expect the machinery to give you nothing that an orchestra or organ wouldn't. (The mechanism, once installed, is so much cheaper than Union musicians.) If it says "talking picture," expect dialogue. And even then — until Hollywood catches up with Broadway and unless all cinema managers become veracious — you may be wrong. If you want to know what Vita phone can do for a stage play, see "The Home Towners." If you want to know what a stage player can do for Vita phone, see "The Singing Fool." Synchronisation experts say the Gra nada is Chicago's best cinema, accous- tically. They don't know why. If you elect to slay an audien con vert, "pictures should be seen and not heard" is your best line. If you are tolerantly disposed — and you may as well be, for you're going to get them whether you like them or not — your cue is the "second infancy" wisecrack supplemented with the observation that the first silent pictures weren't so good, either 12 THE CHICAGOAN 'The Chicago Tribune" Loses a Subscriber THE CHICAGOAN 13 Chicago Clubs; An Inquiry VI. — The Union League Club By JAMES WEBER LINN SOME have asserted that the Union League is the purgatory in which those who have been through the hell of Rotary must serve their time before entering upon the Paradise of the Chi cago Club. This is sheer nonsense. The worst that can be said of the Union League, in comparison with the Chi cago, is that its members park in fields of asphodel, instead of walking the golden streets and playing golden harps. Its gods and myths, in other words, are different; but its forms of worship are much the same. The same rich incense of success rises from the same golden altars. From a distance, or to their proud wearers, a carnation in the but ton-hole is, after all, practically indis tinguishable from a gardenia. The great thing is to wear your prosperity like a flower in the coat, not like the remains of a rich breakfast on the vest. And this the members of the Union League fully understand. They are mostly "self -made"; they were put up for election by their friends, not by their parents; but they are equally proud of the job, and of their friend' ships. Not that the tone of the Union League is one of intimacy. The club and the club-house are alike too large for that. There are so many thousand members that to convey the necessary general information about the club it has to publish regularly an elaborate magasine, dignified and even civic in tone. The club-house, on Jackson Boulevard opposite the Federal Build ing, is one of the largest as well as one of the handsomest hotels in Chicago. George Washington himself could not throw a stone across the main dining- room. I do not suppose that Tommy O'Connor, whose disappearance a few years ago has proved so remarkably complete, joined the Union League and has been living there quietly ever since. Tommy was not the type. But if he had been, he might be. I was once invited to the Union League to join in a very small game of poker in a private room. I unfortunately forgot the name of my host. So there was a bit of difficulty at the desk when I came in. I explained the circum stances. The deskman was courteous, but for the moment baffled. "You see, sir," he explained, "we have six or seven hundred private rooms, and there is probably a little game of poker go ing on in each of them. But," he said, "I will ask Albert, on the seventh floor, whether he knows of any party that is expecting a professor." The reply in the affirmative was immediate. System, you see; but not intimacy. THE Union League Club magasine I have called dignified, and even civic. The Club itself is so. Amalga mate the C. A. A. with the City Club in your imagination — you couldn't do it in any other way — and you get an approximation of the tone of the Union League. Its leaders are conscious, not painfully but perhaps a trifle uneasily conscious, of their municipal responsi bilities. Their determination to do good has largely centered on work with boys. The club has long maintained a center, with a gymnasium, club-rooms, a library, and instructors in work and play. Recently it established another similar center, I believe, elaborate and efficient. On these foci of social elder- brotherhood it spends a deal of thought and money. There may be other clubs in the city, of the general type of the Union League, which do the same thing. I have not heard of them. But then, I had not heard of this "boy's work" of the Union League until a short time ago. They do not adver tise it, except among their own mem bers. The young ladies of the Junior League and the Service Club are regu larly and favorably mentioned for their philanthropies in the social columns of the newspapers; and if they regard that as a reward, they well deserve it. But the Union League is apparently not looking for such notice. The club does not exactly "do good by stealth," but it has seldom had occasion to "blush to find it fame." What percentage of the Union League Club membership lives in Oak Park I have no idea. I should say it was high. Higher by far at all events than the percentage that lives in Lake Forest. The application-blank, I am informed, carries no space for a state ment of the candidate's political affilia tions, but if you are hunting for demo crats in its great open spaces, carry a rifle. You will never get near enough to one to bring him down with a shot gun. Originally, the Union League was political in intention. It was opposed to copperheads and such. It is still opposed to "bolshevism" and — on the whole — to divorce. It does not so much regard bolshevism and divorce as mor ally wrong, but rather as socially con spicuous. The hope of the club is in the quietly solid citisen, who minds his own business in the day-time and reads a good book in the evening; whose wife is treasurer of her woman's club; and whose children go to a college not too far from home, the boys to play on the football team and the girls to study Home Economics, and join Kappa Kappa Sigma. Almost as many law' yers lunch at the Union League as at the Midday; and there are some min isters. 14 THE CHICAGOAN 'And what do you suppose the baby said this morning ?" Of all the major clubs in Chicago, the Union League has found the Vol stead Act costs it the least. The dis appearance of the old "club bars" brought gray hairs to many a house- committee chairman, but the bar in the old Union League was never much of a factor in club-life. Except once. Once S. W. Allerton, famous in his genera tion, came in alone and ordered two cocktails. The check was for thirty cents. He roared a protest. "Two for a quarter!" he thundered. "But you are alone, sir," was the answer, "and the club rule is that two cocktails for one person are supposed to be ordered one at a time." Whereupon Mr. Al lerton resigned. Today, even in a quarter-limit poker game in a private room, you can't find a drink in the Union League without taking up the tiling in a bath-room. BUT you CAN find committees. A dosen committees, maybe a hun dred, at luncheon every day. A few of them club committees only; most of them "civic" committees of all sorts, political committees, university commit tees, church committees, convention committees, committees for the promo tion of music, of foreign relations, of peace, of legal reform, of everything except privacy. And you shall find entertainments, too, on a vast scale, to which the members proudly bring their wives. Many of these entertainments involve speechmaking. The Union League is a great club for providing and listening to speakers. More really noble sentiments have been publicly ut tered in the Union League, one sus pects, especially on national holidays, than anywhere else in Chicago. Cyn icism withers in the atmosphere of the Union League, but patriotism is the club's first refuge. There, as Bryant might have said, eloquence still on oc casion wraps the drapery of its bunk about it, while the audience sits by in pleasant dreams. Excuse the reference to "Thanatopsis," please; my excuse is that I once heard it quoted, by no less an orator than Mr. James M. Beck, in the Union League. A huge club, a substantial club, a well-managed club. A stranger, on en tering it by mistake, would be a trifle pussled at first to decide whether he was in the Fourth Presbyterian Church or the Congress Hotel. And perhaps even after he became a member, he would still be pussled. {NOTE: Mr. Linn's article is the sixth in a series depicting fraternal life in the Town. Mr. William D. Borden's report of the South Shore Country Club will be the seventh.] THE CHICAGOAN 15 Adventures In Insomnia A Bachelor's Baedeker By FRANCIS C. COUGHLIN GO to Madam's some evening for a moderately late dinner, say at eight o'clock. There is nothing secretive about Madam's; to be sure someone passed a ridiculous law about beverages, but Madam will assure you her place is no saloon — two kinds of wine and absinthe, any sensible person knows, are essential to a meal. Take white wine with the fish, Madam urges, and red with the meat. Then, after din ner, call for a liqueur glass of absinthe and lump sugar. Dip the sugar into the absinthe, and absorb the liqueur chastely from the sugar. So much for illegality at Madam's. Only, if you value the opinion of Madam and her assistants, do not pro fane her table by asking for sweet wine. Sweet wine is a vice fostered by American ladies, and though it is furnished, it is furnished with ill grace — after all one must live — but no at tendant from the rosy chef to his low est scullion has the least illusion about your experience in civilised and apposite dining. Order sweet wine and you are just another sight-seer; very probably of interesting origin. NO, go to Madam's and be served with a clear and salty soup, touched with shreds of green things and shot through with the bright yel low of egg droplets. For two people, order a pint of white wine and a dosen baked oysters, each of which has gone to its martyrdom in a son benito of splendid sauce. These, consume de liberately, and with that easy, purpose less conversation which flourishes best in a wine parlor. Here, in a sense, is the crucial part of Madam's meal, especially if one be dining with an out- lander. If the stranger, foreign to Madam's, insists on rapid and efficient eating, dispatch him instantly to the nearest cafeteria. Pay his cab fare. Better he eat alone than the party wither into dullness. And next the meat, broiled fowl, or a thick steak or a magnificent cut of roast beef, so artfully done that it enters almost sensibly into the very substance of the body while it is tasted. And, of course, a quart of dry red wine, each drink of which purges the mouth in an instant of all food flavor, leaving the palate starved as before. Each successive bite alternates between feast and famine. And when, finally, the grosser delights of hunger have been dulled, a bitter French salad with a thin dressing of blended vinegar, oil and cheese recalls the palate once more to the hard leanness of earthy things. The diner is now ready for clear black coffee and soothing cheese and the palate reacts like a dreamer brought out of a vision by a twinge of reality and then miraculously translated to a higher vision the more confirmed in his illumination for a touch of earth. Then, last, as we have already men tioned a liqueur glass of absinthe and a few lumps of sugar. It is, say, 10 o'clock. Linger at Madam's until 10:30. One 16 THE CHICAGOAN may seek out the chef in his kitchen and talk with him. He will offer wine and sip it formally with you. Or, have another absinthe. Then come in to the Loop. STOP at a night club in time to see the after-theatre crowd arrive. Petrushka, the Bal Tabarin, the Balloon Room — all are tuneful, gay, glamorous and warm. All have a comfortable aura of worldliness about them; they are pleasant and wakeful in the pres ence of handsome women and well-set men. But do not say too long. Night clubs, even the best of them, satisfy rather quickly. After the night club, go to Paddy's. By nature Paddy is a professor. He is conservative, soft-spoken, more than a bit didactic. His chair is whiskey. One reaches the class room by insert ing a finger in the mail slot of Paddy's door and tilting the top lid ever so slightly. A bell rings and Paddy's monitor shows the visitor to the profes sor's laboratory. Follows a number of convincing experiments with cold and warm solutions. Yet the professor's manner is too austere, too scholarly for a night of it. Paddy, or perhaps his whiskeys — both theories have been ad' vanced and defended — can be soporific. In due time, go to Joe's place at the extreme north of the Loop. A long stair up to Joe's brings one to the ante chamber. A quick inspection through the door brings one to the bar. It is advisable to conduct oneself moderately at Joe's — the cellar is imposingly ade quate. Moreover a varied sifting of night wanderers drifts in, gentlemen in evening dress, a patrolman or two, chilled on the night beat, a reporter now and then, an actor's party wearing its various accents to the eyebrows, in determinate citisens red of face and knowing of eye who greet Joe as old friends, a brace of young fellows in collegiate clothing, a mixed party or two, a learned-looking old fellow in a beard and eye-glasses, two motormen and a street-car conductor. Here, too, is conversation in the affable, bar-wise pre-prohibition manner. Engage in it, or stay aloof as you choose. There is neither obligation nor rebuff. AFTER a time at the bar, retire to g\ a booth and there have several bottles of Canadian beer or ale, as the jovial wraiths of long-gone tipplers over many a similar bar seem to dictate. Talk becomes deliberate and the mind nimble on beer. If very fortunate, Cornelius may be present and if he is he may be invited to say a few words on metaphysics. No one seems to know what Cornelius' surname is. But he is a learned fellow in the abstrac tions of the universe just the same. With him one talks politics, ethnology, religion, finance, bar-rooms, race horses, music and aesthetics. It's all the same to Cornelius, as long as someone looks to his mug with appreciative prompt ness. It is now, depending on the tempera ment of the excursioner, perhaps 1 a. m., perhaps 4. Go with good con science to Joe's free lunch table and select supper, or breakfast if after 4. Joe spreads a grand saloon table. Pretsels and salami, a tempting bowl of cucumber and tomato salad, onions in profusion and pickles next to them. To one side a steaming kettle of wieners flanked by stacks of brown, white and rye bread. Head cheese, Swiss cheese, American cheese, and stronger cheeses. Cold pork, cold beef, cold ham. Horse radish for relish, and that notable saloon mustard perfected by the addition of a moistening of beer. Well filled, call at the bar with Joe's good-night cup, blow the foam from it and wish Joe well. DOWN below step into a warm cab which takes off silently over a street covered with new snow. The boulevard is quiet. The cab gathers speed. The night is friendly, vast, pregnant with an unguessable import ance. The universe seems about to speak. Go home! {Editor's Note: Artist J. H. E. Clark, co-survivor and illustrator of Mr. F. C. Coughlin's first live adventures, published in as many previous issues of The Chi cagoan, is the hero of a greater adventure experienced at St. Luke's Hospital on the evening described above. Mr., Mrs. and Miss Clark — 9 pounds — are doing nicely, thank you.] Hospital Exhibits A Few More or Less Typical Sanatorium Cases 1. Self -appointed book critic. Has read everything and continues habit. Recommends Chaucer to poor Italian laborer who can't even read English and novel by brother-in-law of No. 2 to No. 2. 2. Well known author. By the time she leaves she will have enough mate rial for three novels about nurses fall ing in love with (a) wealthy gentle man, (b) striving young doctor and (c) nephew of wealthy gentleman. 3. Wealthy gentleman who over worked one afternoon. Has nervous breakdown and enough money to keep himself in the best hospitals for ever. 4. Has proposed marriage to three nurses. All have accepted. Plans to get well fast and leave country or not recover and go to another hospital. 5. Case of D. T.'s. Other patients are sure he is a city editor or at least a reporter. 6. Tough gent who had one lung re moved by machine gun bullets of rival gangsters. Is recovering rapidly and making plans to take people for rides to hospital or undertakers. 7. Has returned from Holidays spent in Canada. Does not remember that he invited entire Royal Coasting Club to States for summer. 8. Ward wit. Always bussing around bedsides cheering up other pa tients with humorous remarks and puns on words "liver" and "nerve," such as "Do you think you'll livernother day?" and "That's enerve of that glooming." — D. CLYDE. Poetic Acceptances Mary Jane Lois Louisa McGaffney, Seven Years Old, Accents the Prize for the Best Puzzle Poem. of the Month Contributed to "U^si-Daisy Hours" of WBBBBB, "The Daily Blurb" Oh, thank you, Mr. Warfkowski, Indeed, you're awful good to me, To reward me the lovely prise, A Medal which I'll ever prise. The prise I accept graciously, I hope next month another wins, The lowing herd winds o'er the lea, And salmon often comes in tins. It is rather late tonight, So again I say thank you! I thought my thanks in verse I'd write, So now to bed, as good children do. — DONALD PLANT. THE CHICAGOAN 17 MR. MAXWELL BODENHEIM flicked an imaginary speck of dust from his cuff. "The world is so full of a number of things," he quoted, aptly enough. I was not to be outdone. "I'm sure we should all be as happy as kings," I completed. Mr. Bodenheim smiled in approval. "You must be very happy, being a king," he said wistfully. I might mention that I was disguised as a king, the morning I called on Mr. Bodenheim in his palatial garret on North Clark Street. A slightly tar nished crown, secured from a neigh borhood costume shop, was tilted over one eye. An ermine cloak was thrown carelessly over my shoulder. I felt that in this guise, Mr. Bodenheim would speak more freely of his art than he would knowing I was but an humble interviewer. "So you're a king, eh?" queried Mr. Bodenheim, astutely. "So I'm a king," I responded. That was that. I HAD hoped, while on this mission, to arrange for Mr. Bodenheim to make an excursion to Soldier's Field. "It would be nice," he admitted when I broached the subject, "but why should I go to Soldier's Field?" I frankly did not know. "Somebody ought to go, though," I said. "The other day I rode on a bus that offered free transfers to Soldier's Field. Of course I took one — wouldn't you?" Mr. Bodenheim nodded. "Nat urally," he said. "But why don't you use it yourself?" I shook my head. "What would I do after I got there?" "You might see the Army-Navy game." "That was last year — or two years ago." "Or the Eucharistic Congress." "I saw it in the movies." I PULLED my ermine cloak more closely about my shoulders as we stepped out into the morning sunlight of Clark Street. "Ashes to ashes," breathed Mr. Bodenheim in reverie. "Dust to dust," I promptly coun tered. Mr. Bodenheim seemed annoyed. "I prefer to do my own composing," he said stiffly. I attempted to adopt the regal pre rogative. "You seem to forget that I Interview Intime Ma x w e 1 1 Bodenheim By JOHN GIHON am a king," I began, intending to give the fellow a verbal trouncing, but Mr. Bodenheim did not hear me. He was busily inquiring among a little knot of gentlemen in front of a pool hall whether any of them cared to go to Soldier's Field. "Nix, buddy," responded one. "I was in the navy once before." Mr. Bodenheim shook his head sadly and we resumed our walk. Suddenly he darted up to a girl of fourteen or fifteen years who was walking along with mincing step. "Stop!" I cried. "She might be somebody's mother!" "I was only going to offer her the transfer," he said. "Do you think it best? Soldier's Field, you know — " Mr. Bodenheim nodded gravely. I SEIZED upon the ensuing silence to attempt to draw from Mr. Boden heim, for the benefit of The Chica- goan's palpitating readers, some ex pression of his art. "There are some who claim," I began bravely, "that your art is synthetic." "So is gin," said Mr. Bodenheim. "Some people say you use photo graphs," I continued, undaunted. "Bosh." "But personally," I assuaged, "I think your blues are exquisite." Maxwell Bodenheim stopped in his tracks. "King or no king," he roared, "what the hell are you talking about!" "Why," I stammered, "why — " Then the awful truth of my error burst on me. "I am sorry, Mr. Boden heim," I apologised meekly, "but I had you confused with Maxfield Parrish, the painter. You know — ha, ha — sim ilarity of names — ha, ha — " Mr. Bodenheim had collapsed. 'I've been so ill" 'Fiji's been ill, too — haven't you, Fiji?' 18 THE CHICAGOAN THE ^RONT 'V-/ V-A^yV.A_> ¦._/ Intimate Chicago Views Mr. Duffy Cornell of "The Herald-Examiner" Witnesses a Performance of "The Front Page" <Ik CHICAGOAN'/ TOWN TALK Dry Humor THE daughter of a gentleman prominent in the Town's affairs and high in the social scale, found that her name was not on the invitation list of either the Assembly or the Bachelors' and Benedicts' ball. She did not like it and her father called on some mem bers of the committee and told them, a bit bluntly, that if his daughter wasn't invited they would be likely to have a deal of trouble with prohibition agents should anyone thoughtlessly bring liquor to the parties. The committee members firmly and regretfully told the father they were sorry, but that his daughter's name had not been turned in by any of the young men giving the parties. The next move was an informal call upon some mem bers of the committee from a member of the prohibition force. And still the young lady's name was not placed upon either invitation list. So that's why both parties this year will go down in history as having been most law abiding, on the floor of the ball room and about the official punch bowl at least. Hypothesis A LATE rider on the boulevard tells this: His cab followed a new and powerful car out of a stop-light huddle early, very early, in the morn ing. The fast car gathered speed and took a half block lead. It wavered on the slippery pavement; its driver lost his head; slammed on the brakes. The new car plunged over the curb, crashed a lamp post, came sidewise into a steel refuse box and turned over. One wheel gone, three flat tires spin ning, the car a wreck. Cab driver and passenger retrieved the unfortunate driver. He was un hurt, logical, gentlemanly and yet thor oughly displeased. "Operator," he said, "I've been talk ing on this line. I tell you I've been disconnected." Advertising WITH no attempt or intention to arrange a number of facts in logical sequence, we mention non-news print advertising media. The Daily Jiews uses car-card adver tisements for its new Mid-Week Fea ture Section on "L" and Illinois Cen tral trains. The Chicagoan uses billboards on the boulevard and car-card advertise ments on the I. C. The American Mercury confines its local efforts to the lowly street car, where a modest placard sets forth the appeal of that tart, green book. Sartorial D perfection is commented upon at least once in every jury trial he con ducts. The snow white silk muffler that he always wears is a story in itself. It's a sort of tribute, in its way, to a friend of Mr. Stansbury's youth, who is long since dead. Back in the early 1900's, when Mr. Stansbury was in his 'teens, he was attending Kent Law College at night and reporting, days, for the City Press. Jack Lait, long since migrated to New York, covered the South Clark street police beat with Dave Stansbury, for the old Inter'Ocean, or perhaps it was the Record'Herald. During their years as young re porters they made the friendship of a gambler and racetrack man, who was called the White Moth. A striking figure of a man, big, with white hair, white eyebrows, pale skin and blue eyes. He is remembered, as a certain class of gambling gentlemen of those "Well, that's that — and the next time I marry I'm going to marry for love." 20 THE CHICAGOAN old flash days is, with kindly regard by managing men of Chicago. With a flair for the unusual, the White Moth wore white. And when cold weather forced a compromise in his street clothes, he wore a gigantic white silk muffler. The White Moth was kind and went out of his way to do favors to the two young reporters, to whom he took a fancy. A friendship sprung up be tween them that lasted throughout the White Moth's life. The young law student and reporter, Dave Stansbury, took to wearing a white muffler, like the Moth's, and he has never changed his custom. His mufflers are always white. Sign Language HOLLYWOOD gentlemen behind half -acre desks are seldom mind ful of architectural limitations gravely important to cinema managers who will, these gentlemen hope, exhibit their wares to a weary world. And so the cinema manager often finds himself con templating the dosen letter-spaces of his electric sign and the necessity of cram ming thereinto such titular master pieces as "The Cruise of the Jasper B," "When Knighthood Was in Flower" or "The Four Horsemen of the Apoca lypse." A kind of cinema short-hand has been developed to cope with this situ ation, but that is only one side of the story. Bigger and brighter signs is an other result. And sometimes, as in the case of the Grove theatre during a holiday exhibition of the conveni ently brief "Companionate Marriage," there are more letter spaces than let ters to fill them. On this occasion, the Grove management saved the situation, and the sign, by adding immediately below this title the charmingly season able legend: Kiddies Party. Feline A LITTLE old woman with a basket on her arm makes a trip every business day to all the big loop depart ment stores, between the hours of eleven and one. She comes to feed the store cats. In every department store a battery of tabbies is kept to fight mice. They are given the run of the stores, but so well mannered are the animals and so well do they know their business, that customers almost never notice them. The old lady appears at each store at a set time, with a neat parcel of food for each cat. The pusses know where they will find her and are always waiting. No one seems to know the woman's name, and her daily journey is her own pet charity, her mission of love. She has been making the rounds for years, beginning before the memory of many department store officials and her noon day appearance with her gift for the cats is as routine now and unnoticed as the cats themselves. The Meeker Manner MR. ARTHUR MEEKER does not know it, but he is the most re spected and beloved man in Chicago society by the reporters of the press who have come in contact with him, and particularly by the society report ers. It is because he has shown more kindness to reporters than anyone else of that great class whose comings and goings, pleasures and personalities are of continual interest. Reporting, and society reporting particularly, is not always a gay adventure and reporters sometimes find it difficult at a great social gathering to discover someone who will answer questions and save the newsgatherers embarrassment. That is where Arthur Meeker has laid up for himself riches of gratitude. When the baby of Edith Mason, of the opera, and her husband, Giorgio Polacco, was christened, the very able press agent for the opera saw to it that a reporter was admitted to write a grand story. But the affair was really quite intimate and the reporter was miserable, through no reason ex cept that he was out of place. Not knowing who he was, but seeing the dumb pain on the reporter's face as -he lurked behind the butler, Mr. Meeker took him in hand and saved the day. By c l a R ^ Sarah Brown, now society editor of the American, on her first society as signment was so miserable that she "Daf£ TheC HOTSY-ToTS*= * ment on fO0t to "^ trial run 0{ the ? before each »nd t^ of this li»i» gal. * give her a W ha"' FROM SUNNY SPAIN: "My name may be Jabizitski, but I've got a Spanish disposition, or temperament, or whatever you call it. See what I mean. Bess Mae Brown and her partner are just getting by in front of a stagehand." ORIENTALE : The career of Neleh Yesac (Helen Casey to friends) has been a twisted, tortuous, writhing one. But now she's a success — and loves most of all to bake pies for her ten kiddies. looked so guilty, she says, that the but ler pushed her off behind a palm. Yet she had to have names and descriptions of costumes or lose her job. Arthur Meeker, noticing her cowering in her corner, and not knowing who she was, THE CHICAGOAN 21 came over and spoke to her and helped her and charged the butler with giving her every assistance, and didn't ask who she was nor from what paper. Almost every reporter in town can tell of some' time when Arthur Meeker's courtesy has helped him. Some of them go so ers In )ark" ' CE BIERS BALLERINA: The present exer cise is called "Butterfly on a Bi cycle." Madame Moovovah's motto is, "Always keep right on your toes, boys," and to the boys toes by any other names are not as neat. far as to say they would keep a story out of the paper if he asked it. rhere is a move- ke obligatory a sbestos curtain cry appearance AND, while thinking of the Meekers, i\ there is a general impression that, whether he means to be or not, Arthur Meeker, Jr., whose writings have been appearing in magasines with a regular ity these last few years, is well on the j* boys always way tQ making himself the Ward Mc- Alister of Chicago. A few years ago he got a job as a reporter on a morn ing paper. A trip abroad tempted him and he gave up his job after a year or two, and since has been writing for magasines, with Chicago society and its customs as his subjects. Now young Mr. Meeker, while within the group of the old families of the town, stands off and has his own opinions and his own viewpoint, not always the most flattering. A view point, too, which publicly expressed was expected by many to get him into lots of hot water. His viewpoint and his opinions have not been confined to print, for he has a reputation of say ing what he pleases to whom he pleases. CORA THE CLASSICAL: Cora was coming along nicely until she read the wrong book. Went art-y all of a sudden. But Cora has forgotten all about "expressing herself" since she went out and got her ambition frostbitten. Well, the result, they say, is a little unexpected. If Mr. Meeker, Jr., says a party was a wow everyone knows it was all of that. If he says a debu tante is clever and attractive her stock rises at once. A situation to which the young man blandly pays no attention, but which is the subject of some medi tation. Crash ! THIS holiday season, every day crowded with parties and dances, has brought forcibly to the fore the problem of party crashers. Among the goodlooking young men of the Town are so many who own a dress suit, have nice manners and a desire to go places and meet people, that some hostesses have issued tickets to their invited guests, so that only the properly invited should be admitted past the doorman. For a long time young bondsalesmen and college men who knew someone who was invited to the party have been going along and, within reason, hostesses have been willing to admit impromptu guests in order to have plenty of dancing men. But when it got to the place where a hundred or so unexpected guests crashed the party something had to be done. So this holi day season more than one hostess has included a ticket with her invitation. AND here is how the tickets worked i\ in one case. A ball was given in a downtown hotel and the fact of ad mission by ticket only was sufficiently advertised to whet the imagination of the roving crashers. On the same night another smaller and more exclu sive party was given at another hotel. It seems that some of the boys within the sacred invitation limits decided they would rather attend the smaller party and so they put up their tickets for five dollars apiece. And it's said that the demand was far bigger than the supply and that the supper alone was more than worth the price of admission. Return WE would not, for worlds, make sport of the United States Post Office. It is a brisk, unobsequious and punctual department, something of a corner stone to our entire faith in gov ernment these sad times. It delivers our letters with an entirely commend able promptness, and we approve it whole-heartedly. Recently an acquaintance of ours had occasion to ship a gallon of wine to an out-of-town scofflaw. Knowing that postal authorities were prejudiced in such matters, this friend corked his jug tightly so that no tell-tale gurgle might charm the ear of the postman. The package he sealed and stamped in his own office. And he delivered it to the parcel post window in person. The return address, required by the postoflice people, he affixed in good faith. It was: Ella A. Boole, Evans- ton, Illinois. The lady, be it added, is head of the Woman's Christian 22 THE CHICAGOAN Temperance Union. Thus directed, the shipper felt sure that one gallon of excellent red wine would in no case fall into impious hands. So far as we are informed, no levity has yet been laid to the Post Office. Natural Selection IT'S easy enough for good looking young men, graduates of good schools and belonging to college clubs, to attain to the invitation lists of the city's most popular hostesses. But let a girl try it! Which shows that social organisation and activity is kept going by women. Outside feminine compe tition is not welcomed. Two pretty sisters last year were graduated from a good school. Their parents, with a substantial fortune, hoped to use these school acquaintances to get their daughters into Chicago so ciety. The girls attended a few of the junior parties, where they found plenty of school acquaintances. Men they knew helped them to attend a few small gatherings, and so the parents planned a grand, big, smashing debut party for the girls. Now no girl is safely and decently introduced to so ciety unless she has assisting her at her debut party a number of the season's accepted buds. These girls could not secure a single bud, to meet their re quirements, for the date they decided upon for the debut. The date was postponed from time to time throughout the fall — and now the girls and their mother are going to southern France for a little visit and from there on a trip around the world. And the girls are not without much charm. On the other hand, a girl who promises to be a star of a season or so hence comes of a family that has so little money that her parties will all be given by her mother's life long friend and her wardrobe will probably be limited, to say the least. For the Record IT seems somehow within the prov ince of this department to endow with a kind of immortality those highly colored lines — reminiscent of the "East Lynne," "Way Down East" school of drama — being bandied about drawing rooms, Pullmans and the bet ter bars in this our modern epoch. The following seem to be favorites: "Don't go near them lions' cage tonight, Mother!" "Come down off the flag-pole, George; the boys want to hoist Old Glory." "In mercy's name, stop them presses, Floyd; the mayor's confessed!" "So, it's mutiny on the high-seas! I'll smite the first man as lays a hand on them halyards." "Take the hand-cuffs off them boys, Fred; that wa'n't at all necessary." And of course the father of them all: "Git away from them swinging doors, little gal!" Saltis JUST what a big scoop (breaking a story first) can mean to a city editor will never be known to the average newspaper reader. It's a game and a challenge between the men who sit at the head of the copy desk feeling the pulse of the day's news and direct ing it into columns of type. When the city editors, by mutual desire, decided that Joe Saltis should be picked up on that ancient gun toting charge, a vast game began between the city editors. It cost the newspapers thousands of dollars. The Tribune assigned Jake Lingle, Mose Lamson, Shadow Brown and Jim Dougherty, with unlimited expense accounts, to the task of bringing in Saltis and a scoop for the Tribune. Herk Mulroy of the K[ews, with a corps of men and a pocket full of money, went at the same task. The Journal, the Heral&'Examiner and the American were all in the same game. One city editor says that more than $10,000 must have been spent by the newspapers, each of which wanted a scoop more than they wanted Saltis himself. How the American and the "Hews finally fought it out to a finish was told in the last edition of this magasine. But it has not been told that each paper had been promised Saltis' first inter view and the exclusive story of his sur render, by an intimate friend of Saltis, who played each paper against the other, kept everybody busy and happy and the expense accounts flowing freely. The exclusive interview to the American, which was planned by Saltis some days ahead, on his own initiative, went to Harry Read, city editor of the American, not because of any trades with Saltis henchmen, but because of certain friendships which were awarded Harry Read back in the old days when he covered the criminal courts building for the American. Story MYSTERIOUSLY the news has crossed the counter of our mod est breakfast restaurant that we are what the laity terms a "writer." In the last few weeks this item has cre ated a mild and satisfying stir of inter est. A very friendly interest, especially on the part of an elderly waitress. The other morning she spoke at some length. "Do you," she said, "write stories, or what?" This we answered: "Yes." "You just go around," pursued our questioner, "and remember what other people say and write it up?" To this we entered a modest dis claimer that although such action was annoyingly frequent practice among certain professional gentlemen — and we could name names, but no matter — we were comparatively free from it our selves. Generally we got our own stories and wrote them in our own way. "Suppose," said the waitress, "that a person wanted to write the story of her own life. Not a very long story. Then, should she write it her own way?" We said, "Yes." "Not fancy?" We said, "No. Not fancy." "Thank you," said the waitress. "I have a story that will shake the world." She turned away with a dirty plate, a cup, a crumpled napkin. The state ment was simple, prosaic, matter-of- fact. We said nothing. "Yes," she repeated, "a story that will shake the world." •The contact between us parted. Like a frayed string. It is idiotic to become sentimental. THE CHICAGOAN 23 CWICAGOAN/ THE United States is, at least for the moment, stock-market crasy. During the last six months the country has been bitten by a universal fever of speculative enthusiasm the like of which has probably never been seen before. Everybody's in the market, clerks, stenographers, small shopkeepers, the ladies of the afternoon bridge clubs. On the Boul' Mich, on buses and street-cars, in restaurants and theatres can be heard the now familiar techni cal language of trading and the current gossip of the ubiquitous tipster. "I sold my Sears yesterday — They say there's twenty-five points in Carbide yet — Hop on to Tank before it's too late — My broker says money may go to fifteen per cent — Maybe we'd better sell out Grigsby-Grunow." This is no place for solemn discussion of the causes and effects of a roaring bull market, nor for psychological con sideration of the facile lure of "easy money." The market is here and the public is in it up to the ears. At present writing the "lambs"— and in case you don't know the jargon, they are the small fry who are always left holding the bag when the break ar rives—don't seem a bit discouraged by the sudden collapse of the famous Hoover" market several weeks ago. They are still listening intently for ru mors, and for "hot tips." They are buyers and not sellers, and they wait eagerly for the identification of famous speculators with new market favorites. Who are these famous speculators, anyway? The matter of who they have been is American history. In the old marauding days of American in dustry they were such slimy individuals as Danny Drew, horse trader and smug churchman, who with the furtive Jay Gould cornered the money market in one of the most spectacular "bear" raids in history; old "Corneel" Vanderbilt, crusty ferry-man, builder of the New York Central, a vivid and constructive market operator, who, at least once, saved his country from a panic with much bad language and more ready cash. Fisk, Keene, Sage, Livermore, so we advance to the Exchange in the twentieth century. Jim Patten, a great member of the old guard, passes on into a heaven of ripe wheat and old crones. Engaged for fifty years in a business Arthur Cutten By ROBERT POLLAK that sows a crop of enemies, he never theless leaves nothing but friends. THE big operators of today are per haps more adroit but less pictur esque. Durant, Whelan, the Fisher Brothers, and Arthur Cutten, dominant factors in the now historic "Coolidge" market, are more symbolic than actual to the trading fraternity. They can not be singly as powerful as their specu lative forebears. The country gets too big and the market too broad. They suffer the impersonality (and probably want it) attendant upon the growth of American industry. But this makes the public only more curious. Naturally democratic, and hence inquisitive, the American wants to know something about his Lindbergh, his Tilden and his Arthur Cutten. And the fact that the latter runs fastest from the spot-light only whets the curiosity of the well- known man in the street. Cutten, by now and with reason a devoted Chicagoan, comes of .sturdy Canadian ancestry. His early home was in Guelph, Ontario, where he had the benefits of an ordinary schooling and a hardy out-door life. His father was one of the pillars of the little com munity, the sturdy type of Canuck that you see from Canadian Pacific flyers, bowling on the green hatless and coat- less in sero weather. Cutten arrived as a green youth in Chicago and went to work as a grain clerk with A. S. White, the war-time president of the Board of Trade. He devoted himself indefatigably to getting into the right groove for a business career and finally managed to acquire the funds for his own Board membership. Then began long and arduous training in the old Pit where he traded as an operator for himself, shoulder to shoulder with the canniest lads in the game. From the first he played a lone hand, never losing his nerve, and developing an inscruta bility and an obstinate courage that were to stand him in good stead later. It is only within the last two or three years that his name has become front page stuff. People began to identify him with a line of stocks, notably the meteoric Baldwin, New Haven of bad past and brilliant future, Loose- Wiles, a food stock that is a fascinating mar ket story in itself. He began to pick them with uncanny accuracy and the public pricked up its ears — Montgom ery Ward, Harvester, Radio Corpora tion of America, the sippiest of them all, and, in recent months, Sinclair Oil. How many millions he has tucked away in actual and paper profits is anybody's guess. But he predicted four hundred dollars for Montgomery Ward when it was just over the century mark, and the gentleman from Canada doesn't buy in job lots. HOW does he do it? The answer is exceedingly simple, yet it pre supposes a sagacity and self-control that are not ordinarily allotted to the specu lator. He is, first of all, no day to day operator. He is usually a "bull" on securities or commodities and he has the patience and courage to wait through intermittent breaks where the little trader turns tail and runs. His enemies have accused him of trying to corner the wheat market. If Cutten buys millions of bushels of wheat it is as a constructive "bull." In other words, when delivery day comes for grain fu tures he is willing to pay cash on the nail and market the food-stuff through the ordinary channels. Cutten gets good information and 24 THE CHICAGOAN "Jump, woman — why don't you jump?" "Oh dear, I do hope the papers get my name correctly" the more successful he becomes the more highly informed are his business friends. He has no patience at all for the tipster or the get-rich-quick artist and supplements all market news he receives with elaborate statistical analy ses. This slow and sure method com bined with the kind of speculative vision that characterised the elder Mor gan, the gentleman who never sold America short, has made out of Cut- ten a financial legend. And consider ing his keen insight into the changes in modern industry, and his long dis tance viewpoint, he should be a healthy speculative influence for many years. THE machinery of Cutten's opera tions is not complicated. He has a cubby-hole of an office on LaSalle St., one private secretary and a West ern Union stock ticker. He buys and sells through a group of Chicago brok ers and goes to New York, a thousand miles nearer the actual scene of battle, on an average of once a month. He is a man of medium weight and build in his middle fifties, unostentatious and quiet, not a splurger. His impassivity could be no more complete, and win, lose or draw, he maintains the poker face. He amuses himself first of all in the market because that's fun of a grim, hard-boiled kind. He plays a little golf at the Chicago Golf Club in Wheaton and lives there on a fine stock farm that is his pride and joy. He does not advertise his charitable activities, but the fact that he maintains a large camp up north for poor lads and is active in its administration is pretty generally known on the street. And lest the picture here drawn prove to be too hard of outline, be it known that Mr. Cutten is a married man and a very devoted one; and that when the old Board of Trade began to come down he dropped a figurative tear and quickly purchased some stained glass windows and a couple of the for midable stone ladies that brooded over LaSalle St. for half a century. But for everyday purposes the strain of sentiment is not easily apparent. Rather the sharp, dry, driving answer that one fellow got when he asked Cut- ten what stocks to buy: "Buy the Cutten stocks." That's been the best market advice in the country for two years — and how! London Dear Chicagoan: DESPITE Premier Baldwin's com ment that Londoners are suffering from publications of one sort or an other, the Vegetarian's society in wrathful indignation distributed tracts of protest against Sir Jagadis Bose's experiments with plants. The Hindu professor at his last lecture showed a plant which rang an electric bell as it fed, and another which died in "shud dering convulsions." The vegetarians fear that following a few more of these revelations, our faith in the moral basis of vegetarianism will be shaken. Publications of quite another sort are the new Bank of England notes which were issued last Thursday to replace the one pound and ten shilling notes now in use. The new issues are not particularly welcome, because the Gov ernment forbids marking the bills or otherwise defacing them, which affects- bank cashiers and business firms. THAT a number of titled and fash ionable women, and men also, should spend an afternoon this week competing in public at a big hotel for a cocktail-shaking championship is one of the indications of the trend of Lon don life which the illness of the King THE CHICAGOAN 25 has failed to dampen. Certain of the more progressive London houses in line with this movement are now exhibiting small cocktail bars as part of the fur niture of an artistically designed draw ing room. Eros, the little deity which presided over the traffic tangles of Piccadilly Circus, is to be replaced now that the new subway station has been opened. Public outcry has again succeeded in bidding the authorities do its will, and unlike the thick growth of rhododen drons which! made certain sections of Hyde Park almost impenetrable, and which following certain scandals the Home Secretary ordered removed, Eros is once again to smile on Londoners and visitors alike. BY way of making Christmas mer rier, the Home Secretary known as Jix was instrumental in passing cer tain measures calculated to produce humor. One is to declare cats aliens, and so demand a period in quarantine for all cats imported in Great Britain; another is to authorise the payment of the equivalent of thirty-two cents to a woman living in Cologne, which amount, she is officially informed, is the balance of her son's earnings as a prisoner of war in England. The man died some time before the end of the war. The novel ceremony of "unveiling" a pudding was performed when the King's giant Christmas pudding was received on behalf of the Court. For a week the public had been invited to assist in its stirring, and amidst the crush one could see the mysterious op eration of assembling the hundred-and- sixty-four sections which composed it. The huge mass soon resolved itself into a pyramid draped in white. Each brick of the pyramid was a section of pudding weighing 14 pounds and esti mated to feed 42 people. The list of the consumers has not been made pub lic, however. Another ceremony, more of a pag eant in nature, was the installation of the Archbishop of Canterbury. Led on a veritable round of the more im portant places in the Cathedral, his Primatial cross borne before him, the Primate ended the tour in the Presby tery, where he blessed "the city, the country and the people," after which, according to the rites, the archiepisco- pal trumpets sounded with joy. — E. S. KENNEDY. Tke ROVING REPORTER The Fire Fans* Association By FRANCIS C. COUGHLIN "Oh well do I remember the fire of '58 I was d'wal\in' through the mire, 'y God, When along comes Bill Jones, a*run' ning to beat the band And he says ' 'T Cod, thare's a fire.' Well, I runs home and I puts my gum' boots on And I \isses my wife, "Mariar, 'y God, An I gets to the vullage in the very nic\ o' time 'Cause the whole durn town was a^ fire!" CHO: When we run with the ol' merchine, 'y God When we run with the oV merchine. There was Mose and I\e and Si, An Bill, and you an I When we run with the ol' merchine! An early folk song as mov ingly rendered by Mr. Donald Plant. THUS imperishably recorded we have the early American fire fan, a frantic and bearded fellow larrup- ping after his hand-drawn fire wagon, the volunteer campaigner of a hundred bucket brigades. Time, indeed, has changed the fire engine; it has replaced the wooden store front and inflammable whiskers (a great pity, these two, seen from the viewpoint of a classical fire lover); it has superseded the bucket brigade and unharnessed the noble fire horse for ever. Yet even Time has spared the gum-boot. And most decidedly Time has smiled on the fire fan so that he larrups off to a blase as hopefully as his grandfather did, arriving — as always — in the very nick of time. True, the fire enthusiast has under gone a modification — he now arrives by motor, that is the usual thing. And the practice of fire extinguishment, once a happy, informal, community affair, has become highly organised and mechanical with an aura of science about it and a shimmering retinue of equipment. Moreover, some 30 of the most en thusiastic fire-goers have formed The Chicago Fire Fans' Association, of which organisation James Kirkley is president and Joseph A. Bates is secre tary. An organisation given definite form in 1910. THE Fire Fans' Association has for its primary object the attendance of worth-while fires. Its members, too, sponsor the physical and psychic well being of city firemen. Each year the Fire Fans supervise an intercity base ball series in which Chicago firemen face a team from the New York fire department. Life and accident insur ance, always a difficult matter for fire men, are seen to by the Fire Fans. Each baseball series adds well over $100,000 to the firemen's mutual aid fund and the sum goes far to provide a sound actuarial basis for insurance needs. Through an enthusiastic study of fires and fire equipment, the Fans are quick to recommend new devices in fire fighting: the wall crusher (a pneu matic punch capable of driving through the strongest wall to afford easy access to the blase, as well as ventilation), the light-car (a truck equipped with power ful flood lights to combat darkness and smoke), the chemical extinguishers (vital in oil fires) and just recently six new ambulances, adequately staffed, with a medical student in attendance — a bitterly needed aid in fire and ac cident emergencies. Commissioner A. W. Goodrich, himself an ardent Fire Fan, is quick to adopt new ideas and to recommend their incorporation in the city's fire campaigns. SO much for concrete aid in mate rial and equipment. Yet talking to a Fire Fan the conversation swings irrevocably to mention of Rev. William J. Gorman, more intimately named Father Bill. Father Bill is chaplain of the Chicago Fire Department. It is he who sees personally that injured fire fighters are conveyed to the best hos pitals the town affords. He bucks up his men, eats smoke with them, ad monishes them, too, one imagines — if the occasion warrants — and more than once he has knelt in the tangle of hose leads amid the throb and clatter of fire engines, to wave and flicker of flame 26 THE CHICAGOAN against smoke, to administer the last rites of the church. Should a fireman die, it is up to Father Bill to break the news. But while a fireman is in hospital, even though chafing at the ridiculous slight- ness of his injuries, Father Bill watches over him. And woe to the reckless fellow who tries to leave hospital too soon. Not for nothing is a man ap pointed chaplain to the most rigidly disciplined fire department in the world. Looking back upon these para graphs, I find that I have mentioned Fire Fan members as enthusiasts. There are, it should be explained, en thusiasts and enthusiasts. There is the mild luke-warmness of the golf addict, the half-hearted spirit of the baseball fanatic, the lackadaisical formalism of the Christian martyr and the easy nonchalance of a Moro run amuck. But the Fire Fan, gentlemen, is an enthusiast! PERFECTLY rational Fire Fans have been known to leave the din ner table, at once abjuring a formal party, a warm meal and a possible two weeks of domestic felicity to dash out to the Italian quarter when a 2-11 sounds. One member of the sect is known for certain to have left an astonished would-be signer of a con tract, pen poised in mid-air, to stroll informally to the blase. At a big fire, the organisation gen uinely busies itself. It provides coffee and sandwiches for the firemen, some times for 12 hours on end. Now and then a Fan is awarded the honor of toting a "doughnut," i. e., the rolled, heavy circle of empty hose. Fans tug at the wet, cold hose leads on an icy street. They check, with conscious pride, the arrival of fire companies at the alarm center. They sniff the smoke as a woodsman sniffs the piney air. And with immense knowledge they observe the progress of the fire and its extinction. A Fire Fan's conversation becomes elaborate and technical when he dis cusses the feats of his fire department. The Town, he orients by alarm boxes — a bewildering method of description to the layman. For instance take the feat of Engine Company 13. Box 32 was pulled as a test. Engine 13 hit that corner in exactly 36 seconds. Translated, it means that an alarm was turned in at Dearborn and Wash ington and that in 36 seconds the fire company from Lake and Dearborn was on the spot. Or take Truck 11, stationed at 36th street and State. In 1928 Truck 11 went out on 1346 runs, an average of some 3.6 runs a day, and a record for a Chicago fire company. Truck 5, Blue Island at 12th St., turned in 1307. T 'Who's with him?" 'I don't know her — looks like Freudian wish' ALKING, too, one comes orr odd pieces of fire wisdom. That a cut from smoky glass is highly infec tious; the dreaded tetanus seems to infest smoky glass. That in the Loop almost every scaffolding of a tall build ing catches fire sometimes during the building's construction — and a wood fire 20 stories high is a most difficult problem. That ventilation, fully as much as water, is sovereign against fires. That smoke nauseates a fire THE CHICAGOAN 27 fighter. That the stock yards present one of the most omnipresent fire hasards in the world, yet are kept safe through constant vigilance. And one hears, too, that the Chicago Fire De partment is the fastest and best equipped on the planet. All of these things may go part way to explain why men are fire fans. And yet perhaps a closing sentence by James Kirkley, president of the Fire Fans goes farthest: "I go to fires," he explains, "because I like to see a ter rific and complicated fight well fought by a fine gang of men. That's really the big kick I get out of it." Light THIS is a story about a gentleman from Montana who received his college degree from the University of Nebraska. It has a moral. Mr attended and enjoyed a hockey game at the Coliseum. After the game he stood for an instant under a street light in the rather desolate stretch of Wabash, 1600 south. Approaches a seedy and shivering stranger who cringes up to the man un der the street light and announces, "I'm a thief!" "Well," said the gentleman from Montana, "you shouldn't be a thief. It's bad business, stealing things from people. Sooner or later you'll get into trouble. Mark my words." "The police — ," faltered the stranger. "The police will dog you," confirmed Mr , "they will bay at your heels. They will hound you. You will be like a rat with a terrier after you. Besides your own conscience will lead you a dog's life. You'll be all mixed up." "I have here (a secretive movement) a stolen diamond." "Ah," said Mr "You take me for a rascal, do you?" "How much?" whined the stranger. "Five dollars!" offered Mr "It's worth $1,500 at least." "Well, $10!" "Well—" Eventually it got to be $13. "And now then," said Mr of Nebraska, "if you will tell me the place from which you stole this ring, I shall return it." The thief named a hotel downstate and disappeared. Mr wrote the hotel stat ing briefly that he had in his posses sion an article of value he believed to have been stolen from a guest and sug- 'Hmpf, up to 45 again — no brassiere for me today' gested that the hotel people — provided they could name the article and pro pose a suitable reimbursement — get in touch with him. He signed the letter with a fine virile old name well known in American history; he signed John Cornwallis. Exactly 24 hours later came a knock at Mr 's door. Two police men. The law wanted that notorious fence, Cornwallis, John. And the law would abide neither delay nor evasion. Mr could then and there produce Cornwallis or he could accom pany the officers., The rest is easy. Mr in stead showed his ring and told the story. When the officers had recovered their breath and eased their weskits they sent the gem to be assayed. It was no dia mond, naturally. But the moral as supplied by is enlightening. "It taught me one thing," he rumi nated aloud, "if it didn't teach me any thing else it taught me one thing: Never be sympathetic." Juvenile Department THE father who tells this prefaces it becomingly. It is not, he says, the common or parlor variety of paren tal boast; nor even (we doubt this) from the mouth of his own admittedly precocious offspring. He adds that he has told it at many dinner tables with gratifying success and resolutely re fuses to accept the Tribune's paltry dol lar for it. Helen, it seems, is four. Her pro nunciation has been sealously guarded against childhood's pretty inaccuracies. Her enunciation compels an almost grotesque attention on the part of her elders. In precise English, then, she is said to have said, "I do not care if the Winter proves rigorous, for I am going to be in my mother's ami." And wept to learn that Miami is not her mother's exclusive possession. 28 THE CHICAGOAN H'h.e SlfK G E Reviewing the Big Parade of New Shows By CHARLES W. COLLINS THE fortnight of Alexander Moissi's appear ances with Rein- hardt's company in "Der L e b e n d e Leichnam" marked a revival upon the Chicago stage of the drama of dignity. Here was an exhibi tion of acting as a fine art; of play- writing as a thoughtful interpretation of life; and of stage-direction that stim ulated the imagination with an adroit and simple solution of difficult technical problems. This performance reached the high-water mark of the European theatre as vouchsafed to Chicago in the present generation; that is to say, it equaled the work of the Moscow Art Theatre. In perfection of casting it may have surpassed the Russian visi tors; but comparison along this line is hardly in order, since it matches a one- play company against a repertory or ganisation. As for Moissi, he fulfilled his repu tation with a character-study of Rus sian moodiness and waywardness that was sweeping in its charm. They say — those who have seen him in a range of parts — that he has the true quality of greatness; and Chicago's first glimpse of him aroused no skepticism toward that opinion. He is a plain little man, looking, in the central role of Tolstoy's last drama, much like Morris Gest's younger brother, even to the point of a borrowed dress shirt, but his charm of personality has the magic penetra tion of the X-ray. His voice, lyric and vibrant, is difficult to forget. He has, to a high degree, that trait of seeming to be unique in his species, which is the most striking symptom of genius in the theatre. Another American Tragedy IN "Coquette," too, we find the drama of dignity in restoration. There is no raucous, blowsy "modern ism" in this poignant little American tragedy, at the Selwyn. It assumes that its audience is sensitive to normal emo tions, and it tells a story that might happen in any decent home which shel ters a man-trapping flapper, Southern style, and an old-school father, full of Virginia chivalry and fantasies about the purity of women. With Helen Hayes as the companionate girl whose lies transformed her lover into a corpse, her father into a murderer and her self into a suicide, "Coquette" com pletely popularises the unhappy ending. It even melts dramatic critics who haven't shed a tear since infancy. New York gossips asseverate that after Miss Hayes did a Hedda Gabler, Percy Ham mond tottered toward his office, weep ing like a crocodile. Miss Hayes, who ever since the days of her wonder-childhood has been an actress first and an ingenue incidentally, plays the charming, misbehaving hero ine without any of the buncombe of The highly destructive (in "Coquette") Helen Hayes of the Selwyn THE CHICAGOAN 29 For the Southland Everything in the way of wearing apparel can be purchased at cost and less during — Fifield's Reorganization Sale BATHING SUITS KNICKERS GOLF HOSE NECKWEAR BEACH ROQES FLANNEL TROUSERS CAPS and HATS SHIRTS Novelties and Accessories JiM. Sale only at 328 South Michigan Avenue Near Van Huron Street "flaming youth," and makes her more real than any entry in Judge Lindsey's case-book. For persuasiveness of char acterisation, this is among the most not able achievements of the theatrical year. In view of the natural, on-the-level, up-to-date Americanism of the gay lit tle sad young minx whom she creates, the most fitting tribute to her is : Atta girl, Helen! A Drama of the Draft THE process of de-bunking the Great War, which began in the theatre with "What Price Glory," is successfully continued in "The War Song," now at the Harris with George Jessel as its Hebraic pride and joy. This is a comedy of civilian irony against the patrioteering attitudes of ten years ago, softened into popularity by the gags and wise-cracks of a Broad way song-plugger. In the character of a rising young egotist of Tin-Pan Alley whose filial piety causes him to believe that the affairs of his family are of more im portance, to him, than the crusade to make the world safe for democracy, young Mr. Jessel proves himself a pun gent and plausible comedian. I am not sure whether Mr. Jessel is acting or merely playing himself in material more or less autobiographic; but the import ant point is that he presents, with amasing naturalism, a type of brash young man with which the highly Semitised show-business is over-run. "The War Song" is New York real ism stippled with hokum, and with Mr. Jessel enforcing its quack humor and its genuine pathos, it seems destined for a prolonged sojourn here. Clara Langsner, who plays the worried old mother, is the star's most effective as sistant. Illegitimate Humor IN "The Bachelor Father," which re cently came to the Blackstone, il legitimacy rears its head, as a comic theme, for the first time in the Ameri can drama. We progress in candor and in cynicism, it seems; this play is com pletely Gallic in its humorous attitude toward offspring that might be called by-blows, but which are usually labelled by another word beginning with B. We even improve on Paris — for here there are three Bs, with the same father but different mothers. H. Reeves-Smith is the old baronet who, having scattered children about the world like a god of fecundity, gath ers them about him with crabbed cynic ism to discover the joys and sorrows of the paternal emotions. He gives a prime performance in the ripe British tradition of crusty country gentlemen. June Walker plays the most important, because American, member of the three Bs attractively, although her character is merely a fable in slang. This is a Belasco cast, so nothing is wrong. Alias Mitzi Hajos MITZI of the musical comedies came to the Garrick in holiday time to divert the juveniles and their middle-aged uncles, who found "Lovely Lady" everything that a Mitsi show should be. It may be somewhat more risky in its situations than a fairy tale, but the juveniles don't know when to be shocked and their uncles are im mune. It's about a young woman who had to hire a card-board husband in order to keep up appearances, and it contains a bed-room scene without a sting. The piece is beautifully staged and costumed; the Albertina Rasch bal let is worth watching; and Wesley Pierce is a new kind of dancer. — But alas! Mitsi's silhouette is not what it used to be. 30 THE CHICAGOAN A group of distinguished musician* in program* of quality seldom heard else 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. MU/ICAL NOTE/ The High, Clear Note of the New Year By ROBERT POLLAK IN keeping with the general spirit of holiday we have only sweet words to whisper in the cur rent issue, and the sweetest of all are for the Chicago Civic Opera's produc tion of Der Rosenkavalier, Richard Strauss's sophisticated drama with music. With this performance the local organisation proves that it can give that complete aesthetic satisfaction that is only very occasionally to be discovered in opera-house, theatre or concert hall. The work was mounted and executed with the perfect regard for directorial and musical detail that we usually expect to find only in the Festivals at Salsburg or Vienna. Com bined with this careful treatment we rediscovered a score still freshly de licious and subtle and a Von Hoff' mansthal libretto that stands upon its own legs as a play of the first order. Large responsibility for the unique excellence of the performance lies with Leider, Kipnis, Olssewska, and Mason. The local critical faculty damned Leider 's interpretation of the wistful Countess with but faint praise thereby revealing their complete ignorance of the requirements of the role. The key note of the Countess is her reticence, her mature meditative quality, her ele gant lyricism. She is both lover and philosopher, cognisant that she can hold the stormy young Octavian only until a girl sweetheart appears, and then deliberately driving him into the arms of the little Sophie, no matter what the cost is to herself. When she sends him away as bearer of the rose she must epitomise the quiet grief of a great lady. Whatever passion she feels is smothered beneath an exterior of wise and friendly melancholy. All this Leider perceives with the quick intuitiveness of the great artist. From a thundering, large-voiced, heart-strong Brunhilde, she becomes a delicate lyric soprano, a perceptive and subtle lady of the baroque world, her very quietude stamping the role with a unique emphasis. Olssewska came here partly on the strength of her Octavian. Strauss, with one ear always listening to Mosart, creates a lineal descendant of Cherubini. But Octavian is the tem pestuous variety of adolescent, all rapture and unchastened emotion, dis tinctly in love with love. He must needs be a complete contrast to his mistress, the Countess. Again, Olssewska perceives vocally and dra matically and places herself near the top in the gallery of Octavians that the world has acclaimed during the last quarter century. Only to see her, a ravishing picture, brunette and silver, in the. second act is gift enough. KIPNIS, as the boorish Baron, must be the bull in the china shop. Falstaffian he is, a. gross glutton, but has none of the redeeming features of the philosopher or the good loser in love or petty business. He clowns, boasts, rages, and is completely dis honored and frustrated. A rich role fon Kipnis, one demanding an actor more than a singer, and as he is both he carried it off in a way that would have delighted composer and librettist. Mason as Sophie is the callow maiden, dimly aware that she is the pivot in a triangle the implications of which she is afraid to realise. Her creators require of her a young and bashful attitude toward the role, vocal qualifications of the highest order, and an awkward naivete. Vocally she fits the bill to perfection. Polacco conducted with frank under standing, realising every lovely melody in the rich score, and passing through its subtle description of character and action without over-refinement or at tenuation. Minor roles, details of staging and lighting, were all the product of study and synthesis. This was a never-to-be-forgotten perform ance. At Orchestra Hall IT has been a fortnight of rare but important musical events. At Or chestra Hall the Symphony gave first hearing to Ernest Bloch's Epic Rhap sody "America" simultaneously with several other leading American or chestras. As winner of Musical THE CHICAGOAN Americas $3,000 prise and a work from the hand of one of the most significant of contemporary composers, this rhapsody cannot be considered with our wonted flippancy. Built roughly upon the lines of a symphony in three movements it treats musically with the landing of the pil grims, the American Indians, the simple pleasures of the old South, the stir and pain of the Civil War, the jass and skyscraper epoch, and, in hymnal, the triumphant America of the future. It is, first of all, mightily thrilling, done by the hand of a master of orchestration skilled in every idiom of composition and intensely grateful for the experience he has had from life in this country. Aware of the magis tral touch of the composer and his honest attitude toward his musico-social problem, one cannot fail to respect him. Whether the rhapsody is made to last is another kettle of fish, and we have our doubts. The great recognition of Bloch's im portance has rested, after all, on the deeply Jewish character of his music. Ever since the premiere of the Trois Poemes Juifs we have been conscious of a new and important voice in the his tory of composition. Not that Bloch is a mere collector of Hebrew folk songs. On the contrary he builds less on folk material than Moussorgsky. His particular nature has fitted him for the expression of the torture, the barbarism, the high ecstasy of an old race. In "Schelemo" or the Suite for Viola and Orchestra we hear the in dividual speech of Bloch as we would the Wagner or Tristan or the Brahms of the Fourth Symphony. These are the higher mannerisms of greatness that we describe as idiomatic. There is little of this Bloch in the American Rhapsody. Instead we find a rather incoherent organisation of American folk tunes based sometimes, as in the second movement, on the most unimaginative diatonicism. Here there is a trace of Bach, there a sample of Stravinsky. Only in the wild initial section of the third movement does he speak as his true self. And, apart from the tremendously stirring char acter of the music, the enormous work gives the net impression of a magnifi cent facade behind which there is only space. [Note: Impending musical events of the better sort — notably St. Olaf Choir, at Orchestra Hall on the 21st — are recorded regularly in "Current Entertainment," page 4-] Doubled! Your keenness for bridge — to say nothing ol your knowledge of the fine points — is "doubled," mayhap "redoubled," by your listening to the broadcast wisdom of the Bridge experts on the radio. Panatrope 'with Radiola makes these master players accommodating guests at the bridge table in your living room. For other hours of the day this superb radio-phono- graph offers you music, humor, topical news. "Doubled" again -both the broadcast programs of the better stations and the comprehensive Brunswick library of rec ords await your pleasure. Ottered by ^^ SS ^^ -9— "WT? Commonwealth Edison £4 ¦???•!• JCvLECTMC SHOP3 7a West Adams Street, Chicago .CHICAGOAN 407 So. Dearborn Street Changing residence? The Chicagoan will go along — making ifs first fortnightly arrival three weeks after notice — if you will fill in the appended form. (Name) -. (New address) — (Old address) (Date of change) 32 THE CHICAGOAN "You're the Cream In My Coffee" "You're the Cream inMy Coffee" — Fox Trot from "Hold Everything" with vocal chorus and another wow hit by the Colonial Club Orchestra with vocal chorus by"Scrappy" Lambert "To Know You is to Love You" 41 18 "Maybe this is Love" — Fox Trot from "Three Cheers," the big Broadway hit with Will Rogers and Dorothy Stone. Equally popular is the catchy, rhythmic oriental number "Pompanola" 4124 "Roman Carnival Overture" — Berlioz Parts I and II by the Minneapolis Symphony Orchestra, Henry Verbrugghen, Conductor. Vividly impres sive, magnificently rendered. 50156 Kamennoi-Ostrow — (Herbert-Rubinstein) arranged by Victor Herbert. Parts I and II. A masterful descriptive work beautifully played by the Brunswick Concert Orchestra. 20087 There's new snap, rhythm and pep in ^myC* Brunswick Records _ PANATROPESRADIOLASRECORDS NEWSPRINT The Hearst Amendment WILLIAM Randolph Hearst, owner of the Herald-Exam- iner and American in this city, links in a string of metropolitan newspapers throughout the United States, opens the New Year with about as smart an idea as has been produced in publication circles since the Literary Digest stumbled onto its national straw vote and reaped millions of dollars worth of free advertising. Mr. Hearst flatly declares that prohibition is a farce and a failure and offers, through his newspapers, $25,000 for the "best plan to repeal the eighteenth amendment and sub' stitute in place of prohibition a more liberal and more American measure, which will secure for the public more genuine temperance, with less offen sive interference with the fundamental rights and personal liberties of the citizen." This column is not concerned with the moral, political or religious side of the question. We look at Mr. Hearst's statement from a publication view point only — and it is smart, tre mendously so. THE staff of the Herald- Examiner must have fairly beamed when this thing came through. It would have been a "natural" for the Trib. But it's too late now. If it were a lottery, the Tribune could come right back by offering $50,000. But this idea does not invite an answer of that kind. For the past ten years, most of us have been bored to death by friends who insist upon telling what they'd do about prohibition if they were so-and-so. "If I were Coolidge (or Hoover, or Smith, or Small, or Thompson, or Yellowley, etc., ad infinitum)'''' — has introduced more tvearisome conversational solos than all of the other trite openings put to gether. And now we all have an answer: "Don't tell me about it. Tell Hearst and get $25,000 for it." It might be suggested that Hearst stole the idea from W. C. Durant, who recently staged a national con- EZRA test himself for ideas as to how to make prohibition effective. Hearst has done more than "steal" the idea. He has manipulated his proposition, so as to turn Durant 's publicity into an advance ballyhoo for the main show to follow. This column, at least, will follow the campaign through the pages of the Herald-Examiner. Some way, everything seems to get a bit jumbled in the American, and this promises to be too interesting to be confused. Slogan THE TRIBUNE, which a few years ago manufactured the very effective slogan, "1925 Will Reward Fighters" (or was it 1926? — doesn't really matter — it came just at a time when business seemed uncertain as to whether to advertise or not and had a tremendous effect on increasing advertising appropriations) has an- other gem in its: "You have lots of time to read on Sunday." Whether the volume of advertising in the Sunday papers has been de creasing and needs some kind of a stimulant, or has been so heavy that it deserved even greater efforts, the slogan itself is a mighty effective one. The reader may not agree, but the advertiser, seeing those nine words repeated over and over again, just can't help being sold on it. Like most good slogans, it should be left just a slogan. It seemed a mistake for the Trib to analyze it by devoting nearly a column to a speech delivered by Col. Robert R. McCormick to the Tribune advertising department. The Colonel said in part: "There is a complaint among some publishers that the Sunday newspaper has been losing ground over the country. We are going to demon strate that this isn't true. . . . Golf players don't play at the game all day- Sunday. The rest of the time they read the paper and turn to the sport pages for the latest news of their favorite sport. Movie goers don't go more than a few hours to the theatre and the rest of the time they have time and will read movie news and movie ads. Automobiles take perhaps four hours of the average Sunday THE CHICAGOAN 33 motorist's time and he has many hours left to seek new ideas on mo- tordom, on traffic, as set forth in the Sunday papers." Now, I ask you? News Sense THERE was a touch of pathos and heroism to the fire, which at tacked the lobby of the Apollo (the old Olympic) theatre a few days ago, which many people have missed. The fire, or rather smudge, was not very serious in itself, but it filled the entire Ashland block with smoke, and in the Ashland block are the quarters of the Associated Press and the City News Bureau. Despite the blinding, suffocating billows of smoke, every man in both offices remained at his typewriter, pounding away so that the people of Chicago and vicinity would not be deprived of their regular diet of news. Examination of the newspapers that afternoon and the following morning failed to reveal any items worth either a good cry or a painful choke, but the traditions of the Fourth Estate are just as precious as those of telephone operators and elevator men. "What's On?" FIFTY per cent of the letters which come to the newsprint department insist that it continue to chide the news papers on their handling of the radio. There is very little to be said which has not been said before. The Ex aminer makes the most intelligent ef fort to keep radio owners informed as to the available programs. Some of the papers run their departments as if the subject completely baffled them. The Tribune stays consistently on the policy that W.G.N, is the only pro gram of interest to anyone. If 30 comics, however, can roll up a circulation increase of 160,000 in the period of a few weeks, there is still hope that one of the papers will thor oughly test the circulation possibilities of an intelligible and informative radio department. An item in The Tribune yesterday con cerning Mrs. Benjamin Baskin, 19 years old, who gave birth to a boy in an elevator of the Medical and Dental Arts building, stated that the cab in which she was brought to the building was a Yellow. Lawrence Foss, 1342 South Harding avenue, asserts he was the driver and that the cab was a Checker. ¦ — From "The Chicago Tribune's" invalu able "Beg Your Pardon" department. Well, anyway, it wasnt' a Ford! <&i Course §ou Enoto / HE exquisite effects ob- tained long ago, when paneled or timbered walls, ornamental doorways, and beamed or wooden ceilings, were in vogue, have seized the imagination of the present day, until home beautification plans are not complete without the inclusion of choice decorative woodwork. Beautiful old as well as recently erected homes along the North Shore and in exclusive suburbs, and fashionable apartments, are transformed by our skilled craftsmen plying their art in genuinely aged woods. There is warmth, richness, and lasting beauty in period paneling whether you select Gothic, Tudor, Elizabethan or Jacobean. Hellp interior Crafts Co. Chicago, 111. "The skilled craftsman, whose pride is in his art o'ershadous all else." Workshop and Studio 905-09 North Wells St. For the Brilliant Season "The Chicagoan," 407 So. Dearborn St., Chicago, Illinois Send "The Chicagoan" one year, $3 — tu/e years, $5. (I have checked my choice as you will notice.) T^ame. Address. 34 THE CHICAGOAN "After the Ball" About 2AM., she felt it slipping — her face. By 4 o'clock her extra chin was on her chest. "Came the dawn." She tottered to the mirror and faced the awful truth — her face was gone What to do? Have a lifting? Or meekly take her place against the wall, with the Victorians . . . She decided to consult with one who is expert in the science and art of re constructing faces — HELENA RUBINSTEIN. And there in Helena Rubinstein's exotic Salon she realized what a vast difference there is between scientific beauty-builders and inert creams which lend the skin a passing fresh ness. The real test of one's beauty technique comes "after the ball." Visit Helena Rubinstein's Salon for the ultimate in scientific treatments for the skin, contour, hair, hands and eyes. Benefit by Helena Rubin stein's years of study and research. Learn from this master beauty spe cialist how to give yourself treat ments at home. Even one of her celebrated treatments will prove a revelation to you! rhe CI4ICACOENNL" Careers for the Carefree By ARCYE WILL PARIS LONDON 670 N. Michigan Avenue, Chicago 8 East 57th Street, New York WHEN we hear that there are nearly 100,000 less people in Manhattan than there were eight years ago, and that our own up and coming city has attracted that many new resi dents during the past year, is it any wonder that Saks Fifth Ave., are to adorn our own Boul. Mich, shortly? But a few years ago they inau gurated the new mode in department stores on Fifth Ave. The last word in luxurious merchandise and service. Theirs the innovation of inducing society matrons to become members of their staff. Mrs. August Belmont and many others. As a result they were able to coordinate style throughout the store. The vocation of stylist was introduced to insure all depart ments carrying articles that fitted into the general mode of the movement. Here you are advised in your selection of a new riding habit, say, by an experienced horsewoman — one who knows how to ride in comfort and yet be smart. Hats to go with the right frock, gloves, etc., likewise. Who of you will be the first to be attracted here? I'll promise you it will be fascinating work and I call it work only because there is emolument. BY now you are all dashing full speed to the different sales, and it would be breaking in where angels fear to tread, to suggest slowing up enough to give yourself a chance to compare values. To me, of all things, the linen sales are most appealing. How I adore them, and how especially grand everything seems to be this year. You know, for just ages, I've stood firm in the belief that nothing could be nicer than white linen sheets but I've changed. Yes, I've "gone mod ern" and now I like the pale pastel ones. Especially peach, palest yellow and orchid. They come in a very good grade of cotton (if the weave is even they will last much longer) and are usually guaranteed fast color. If you want to be dressy, a trick idea is to cut the sheet right through the hemstitching at the top and in sert a two inch heavy filet or any lace you desire. This is better than buy ing that way, as I can't say much for the lace they usually put in, except in the very expensive white linen ones. AT 2725 North Clark, half a block i south of Diversey, is a peachie new indoor golf game. Have some waffles next door at Ricketts and then spend half an hour practicing your approach shots. It's the best I've seen for that accomplishment anywhere, and sum' mer isn't so far away that it isn't of importance. Caddie places the ball on a mat at your feet and you must pitch over a water hazard to the green. There are five graduated rows of cups and low score, as usual, wins. Five cents greens fees for every nine holes, or balls. Thursday is tournament night for men, and women are cor dially received any afternoon. PROBABLY the oldest rouge on the market is Warnessons, main office, 62 W. Washington. Warranted not to fade, and perfectly harmless, it is for stage or street use. It comes in only one color cake and put on under your own special blend of powder conforms to your coloring perfectly. Their Eucalyptus cold cream is an excellent antidote for chapped hands as it is absorbed quickly and leaves no greasy feeling. ARE we sufficiently air minded? I i\ asked the question at the Air THE CHICAGOAN What Qmwfytb hiu <ftwiio7i- TkeGwttcmtj TlteQMmifo 7fie \hj Wthd- 7he Soke. Micn&iJsvim Hotel fofoQpkMp- Passenger Bureau, located in the Palmer House, Monroe St. side, and learned that while routes are well patronized they are not crowded, also that as soon as they can get delivery of new equipment, new passenger routes will be put in operation. To Detroit, fare is $30.00. Time, 3 J/2 hours. Indianapolis, fare is $22.00. Time, 1 hour 55 minutes. Cincinnati, fare is $35.00. Time, 4 hours. Atlanta, fare is $65.00. Time, 7K2 hours. Ideal way to reach the Southland. Now then, they tell me that if you are average, these fares will surprise you. Most people seem to think air rates are much higher. Fog is their only schedule disrupter, so, if you can't see across the street don't expect to fly that day. It is interesting to know that dur ing the holidays air mail was heavy enough to warrant their operating as many as four and five planes extra over many of the routes. The larger planes are fully equipped and you may wander around as though you were on a yacht. You are permitted twenty-five pounds of luggage, and an average suit case weighs sixteen pounds. You know, of course, that sight seeing flights over Chicago are made twice daily, at 3 and 8 p. m. Five dollars the fare. Also if you get up a party of six or more they will ar' range to take you at your convenience. IF you desire to carry a great many articles with you I advise purchas ing a suit case and hat box of three ply veneered wood. Tan linen cov ered. They come in almost any size and are smart while not expensive. Another piece of luggage seen at Fields was a small cowhide over night bag with a brief case attached to the outside. Price $35. This can be had either with a plain leather lining or a most complete file. For summer golf hats that have been bleached a bit on the top by the sun the American Hat Bleachery will for $3.00 dye and reblock so they look like new. Many of us have our fa vorites that we can replace in no other way but this. Beside this, they do all sorts of new blocking or any kind of remodeling or cleaning that you desire. Their ad dress is 130 N. State St. Values up to #35 Now $13.75 or $15.75 ^Wv^-W'i- - :, MIDWINTER SA.I*E beginning Monday, January 14 Practically every shoe in stock, both men's and women's — the season's choice patterns for day and evening wear, formerly up to $35 — now repriced at $13.75 or $15.75. Martin & Martin Shoes For Men and Women New York and Chicago 326 South Michigan Avenue ? Chicago 36 THE CHICAGOAN 190 East Pearson Street Telephone Superior 8200 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 Special Monthly Rates Upon Application [Daily Rates: Single, $3.50 to $6.00l Double, $5.00 to $7.0oJ HThe CINEMA Just Exactly Who's Who in the Nordic Cinema By WILLIAM R. WEAVER IF you like to ap pear expert and knowing when the conversation turns to the cinema — and who, and what con versation, doesn't? — the following facts, figures and foot notes are convenient, and reliable. They are results of a survey conducted by the Exhibitors Herald-World, leading trade publication of the motion picture in dustry, with the co-operation of nine ' thousand cinema owners and managers in the United States, Canada and Eng land. Box-office profits, ultimate bar ometer of public opinion, afforded the extremely practical basis of reports as sembled. Clara Bow, you may say with be coming finality, is the most popular star. She is so proclaimed by 255 cinema owners, whose bank books are their evidence. In 132 cinemas, how' ever, Colleen Moore is queen. Billie Dove supremely delights the audiences of 74 others, Bebe Daniels reigns over 63, and Dolores Del Rio brings great est joy to the eyes that focus on 53 screens. Thus the names, in order, of the five prevailing favorites, the ladies whose celluloid and more or less cardiac adventures the English-speaking world pays most lavishly to witness. Mary Pickford, Marion Davies, Laura LaPlante, Norma Shearer and Joan Crawford compose the second ranking quintette. Janet Gaynor, Greta Garbo, Norma Talmadge, Esther Ralston and Dolores Costello make up a closely bunched third division. The trailing field, thirty-two eminently eye- able thoroughbreds in a minority opin ion, is led by Chicago's entry, Sue Carol. The stately Irene Rich is rear guard and Florence Vidor is not among those present. A deplorable footnote to the mental status of the Nordic world. YOU are quite safe in challenging anyone you know to name the most popular male star. It is Lon Chaney. In 171 cinemas his name leads all the rest. Tom Mix, whose pictures are side street pastime in Chi cago, is second. In 112 theatres he is king. John Gilbert smiles over a do main of 98 auditoriums and Harold Lloyd is monarch of 88, Richard Dix of 86. This quintet leads a field piloted by William Haines with Douglas Fair banks in twelfth place, Emil Jannings in fifteenth, with Charles Chaplin close on his heels and John Barrymore four positions back. When you add that forty-six male stars are more popular than Adolphe Menjou, while only twenty-five are less so, you will have exposed an intellectual status of which a proud race is not only unashamed but unconscious. Among the so-called starring teams — maybe the motion picture industry is a stable institution after all — Wal lace Beery and Raymond Hatton lead Karl Dane and George Arthur by a nose, undoubtedly Hatton's. Janet Gaynor and Charles Farrell, in spite of "Seventh Heaven," are but half as well liked. Ronald Colman and Vilma Banky are fourth, exactly one jump ahead of Jack Mulhall and Dorothy Mackaill. Fay Wray and Gary Cooper are next, flanked by five plodding tan dems neck and neck (in the turf sense) with Greta Garbo and John Gilbert. In the animal kingdom the dogs have the field to themselves and Rin-Tin-Tin has a lead1 of four laps over Ranger and Rex. BUT, your listeners are opinionated enough to interject, so much de pends upon the character of the pic tures in which the stars appear. Be prepared, then, to recite the ranking order of pictures which everyone pres ent has seen. "Ben Hur" is the big favorite. In 251 cinemas, in 1928, it drew more patronage than any other picture. In 214 cinemas this honor went to "The Big Parade." "Seventh Heaven," completing a pleasantly varie gated trio, brought crowning satisfac tion to the owners of 155 screens. "Ramona" and "Speedy" are fourth and fifth with 149 and 140 box-office championships respectively. "What Price Glory," "The Shep herd of the Hills," "Red Hair," "The Patent Leather Kid" and "King of Kings" are a no less ill mated secondary quintette. And any fanciful notion THE CHICAGOAN 37 i/our /uiSorite Hotel add CHEYENNE MOUNTAIN JpVjEN in midwinter \J} balmy weather prevails in the lee of majestic Cheyenne Mountain — at Broad moor. A remarkable highway (open every day last year) zigzags to the top, where the view rivals that from neighboring Pikes Peak, accessible only in summer. At the quaint summit inn you can have delicious food and sleep in luxury, to see the spectacular glories of sunrise. Throughout the year The Broadmoor — a truly fine hotel— offers horses, motors, fasci nating golf, swim- ming> greenhouses, dancing — and metro politan service that will satisfy the most fastidious taste. 3Te BROADMOOR COLORADO SPRINGS HOME OF THE FAMOUS MAJVITOU SPARKLING WATERS Reservations direft, or at: The Ritz, New York; 23, Haymarket, London; 1 1 Rue de Castiglione, Paris jr that a given theme is more keenly rel ished by Anglo-Saxons than any other theme explodes dully in contemplation of the second ten. It embraces: "The Legion of the Condemned," "The Cat and the Canary," "The Circus," "Laugh, Clown, Laugh," "My Best Girl," "The Gaucho," "West Point," "Sorrell and Son," "London After Midnight" and "Wings." Mr. John Barrymore's "Tempest" is next to last in a listing of 104. With these more or less startling facts and figures at your disposal, you should be competent to hold an aver age drawing-room at bay indefinitely. The period covered by the survey is 1928. This being 1929, your course of personal action lies plain and clear. See Florence Vidor's pictures, Adolphe Menjou's, John Barrymore's, Emil Jan- nings', and see the pictures directed by Ernst Lubitsch, James Cruse and Fred Niblo. The mob, as the figures plainly show, will not be present in such numbers as to detain you at the portals of the cinema or mar your pleas ure within. Eyeable and Otherwise Four Sons: Splendid wartime drama for mother, the boys or anyone else. (See this one first.) Conquest: What happens when movie actors wax vocal without the aid of a playwright. (Heaven forbid.) SlMBA: Excellent camera explorations somewhat feebly and altogether point- lessly dramatized. (Take the kiddies.) The Air Circus: Much air and no circus. (Skim over it.) The Haunted House: "The House of a Thousand Candles" with built-in noises and sign-posted shudders. (Unneces sary.) Synthetic Sin: Colleen Moore and what more is required? (Positively.) The Loves of Cassanova: European, verbose, novel, interesting but not enter 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 pleasandy 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 Amer ican.) Will you bean inside roomer or will you book abead? Your European trip will be a happy memory for years to come... if it is arranged the right way. Instead of waiting until space can be found on the ship . . .instead of an annoying and vexatious "very sorry" when you ap-; ply for hotel accommodations or seats on the train., .your trip can be ope long pathway of pleasure. Under the American Express In dependent Travel Plan you enjoy your own choice of accommodations both going and returning and while you are in Europe. You follow a leis urely itinerary . . . expertly mapped out in advance . . .with the assurance that wherever you go, your space is reserved. The booklet,"The AmericanTrav- eler in Europe", fully describes this unique plan and tells what to see in ease, safety and comfort. Write to any American Express office or to nearest address below. American express Travel Department 70 East Randolph. Street, Chicago or 259 So. Meridian Street, Indianapolis, Ind. 366 Broadway, at E. Michigan, Milwaukee, Wis. American Express F. I. T. Dept. 12 Please send "The American Traveler in Europe" to Address . American Express Travelers Cheques Always Protect Your Funds 38 NVO0VDIt1D3t11 For the Right Light- Trie Personal TleadmgLam]? 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 $3. 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. Trade mark protects you against in ferior imitations. At all best shops and depart ment stores. MELODELITE CORPORATION 130 W. 42d Street New York DIAMONDS imported direct from Amsterdam and Antwerp Round Diamonds Marquise Emerald Cuts Squares Pear Shapes Baguettes Kites - Moom Triangles Manufacturers of Platinum Jewelry College Fraternity Badges ?.WARREN PIPER & CO. * Diamond Importers 31 North State Street CHICAGO BOOK/ Bright Pink By SUSAN WILBUR A WEEK or two ago, Mr. Yellowley having made the rounds was able to arise the next morning and announce in all sobriety that it had been the quiet est New Year's Eve on record. And nobody contra dicted him. But if he had said a thing like that back in the nineties, Chicago might not have taken it as a compli ment. In Mary Synon's "The Good Red Bricks" there are wars, and prize fights, and love killings, but if you really want excitement turn to the part about New Year's Eve. Miss Synon's nineties are not mauve. The author is a newspaper woman, and whatever her father and others may have told her about the good old days she has turned into stories such as a clever newspaperwoman might conceiv ably be sent out on. Her hero and heroine would be quite at home on the Front Page. In headlines of any siz;e. And their families make a noble at tempt to live up to them. That is to say, Sally's father, being a politician, gets live years in Joliet for graft — of which the author, however, kindly ab solves him even though she cannot re mit his sentence. And Joe's brother is shot by someone else's wife — though again the author assures us that it wasn't his fault that he got messing about with Mrs. Gorman to begin with. In other words Miss Synon's old Chi cago is not the old Chicago that one is usually invited to contemplate — ex cept of course by private reminiscers. THE scene is Harrison Street, across from the County Hospital. And the hero is Joe Gates, a fighter of less than 150 pounds, who wins the cham pionship of his class, loses it, and then puts on a few pounds and starts out in another class. And his headline qualities as a fighter are not made less by the fact that his wife is Sally Gates, music hall singer, who has just finished putting over "The Banks of the Wa bash." And like a good newspaperwoman, Miss Synon does not forget her human interest stuff. Sally's mother waiting at home for her father to finish Joliet. Sally wishing that she might be just a wife instead of bothering about music halls. Joe thinking that he is fighting simply to get enough money together to go through medical school. And so on. While on the other hand her prize fights are kept as technical as the sport ing page. But it's hard, after all, to make the past lurid. Things that were bright pink to begin with have a way of turn ing to mauve the minute you start talk ing about them. After thirty years, even the Everleigh sisters are more than likely to bring a tear to the eye. Peder Victorious AS a best seller O. E. Rolvaag has . been an exception to all rules. It was, I believe, a book club that started his "Giants in the Earth" a year ago last June, but somehow the thing kept on going. The booksellers have been reordering it ever since, and at Christ mas time it was back among the best sellers. "Peder Victorious," published this week, is likely to be just as much of a favorite. In it, Peder, who was born soon after that journey across the prairie, and came to consciousness among difficulties that ran all the way from Indians to the vagaries of Dakota climate, grows to manhood, the second generation of Norwegian pioneers, talk ing English, and to the consternation of his mother reading the Bible in Eng lish — perhaps praying in English. Pioneer stories have, of course, been very much the fashion for several years now. But for the most part if they aren't bleak they're inchoate, and some of them are both. Mr. Rolvaag's are as good a chronicle, and better, than most — the Norwegian communities of which he writes have been if anything his most admiring audience. And "Peder Victorious" is local to the last shingle on the roof of the new barn, and to the last drop of punch that lubricated the ridge-pole thereof. But it's a locality which, though awfully serious really, is quite unable even at an infanticide trial to keep its eyes THE CHICAGOAN 39 (onsulting Decorator Interiors and Furnishings for Town and Country Homes Architectural Suggestions Herbert G. Moore 820 Tower Court Chicago TELEPHONE SUPERIOR 8868 "And all these wonderful flowers you've given me were selected by your florist — Wien- hoeber?" she said. "That's won derful, and you are wonderful to select Wienhoeber." Thus did the young man's New Year's pledge to "tell all" redound to his everlasting credit. Ernst Wienhoeber Co. No. 22 East Elm St. Superior 0609 914 No. Michigan Ave. Superior 0045 from twinkling. And the fun is matched by a touch of the legendary: Per Hansa dead stalks across it as large as St. Christopher — and refuses a cup of coffee. Paragraph Pastime Peder Victorious, by O. E. Rolvaag. (Harper and Brothers.) Canto two of the saga of the Norwegians who went to Dakota in "Giants in the Earth." The adolescence of the second genera tion, and a day by day account of life on the Dakota prairies, touched by Norse humor, and the Norse imagination. The Well j>v Loneliness, by Radclyffe Hall. (Covici, Friede.) Even if it was suppressed in England — one theory has it that it was because the Ambulance Serv ice of the British Army was entered upon in search of characters, and the Army is above lay criticism — Miss Hall's book is in no sense salacious. It is a serious study of the emotional and social predica ment of a woman who is psychologically a man, and it takes the tragic aspect of a theme which has been treated both as tragedy and as comedy. Apart from its theme the book is an extremely well writ ten novel, especially the first part, which deals with English country and hunting life. The Way the World is Going, by H. G. Wells. (Doubleday, Doran 6? Co.) Worth reading and worth keeping ten or twenty years to see how many of Mr. Wells' predictions come true. But it will irritate all hundred per cent Americans — possibly for their own good. What Is the Mind, by George T. W. Patrick. (The Macmillan company.) The first book we have seen which in a popular way tells the general reader what the human mind is and how it works. One copy of this book is guaranteed to rid the largest and oldest house of ghosts. Platonists, New Thoughters, and believers generally in the gaseous forms of ghosts will just hate the book. Orlando, by Virginia Woolf. (Harcourt, Brace 6? Co.) The biography of a man born in Elizabethan times who turns into a woman shortly after the time of Charles II and is thirty-nine years old in 1927. But that is because he and she is a poet and poetry as we all know is eternal. Transport, by Isa Glenn. (Alfred A. Knopf.) Husbands and wives, jarred from their mutual moorings by the motion of the ship (perhaps) and having only a limited space in which to study triangulation, do it in a snappy and even sensational way. ALLERTON HOUSE Official Residence Intercollegiate Alumni Association Composed of 98 Colleges To live here is to be at home — when away from home! 701 N. Michigan at Huron Chicago Extensive Comfortable Lounges Resident Women's Director Special Women's Elevators Ball and Banquet Rooms Circulating Library Billiards Chess Cafeteria Fraternity Rooms Athletic Exercise Room Allerton Glee Club in Main Dining Room Monday at 6:30 P. M. Ample Parking Facilities Adjoining ALLERTON HOUSE WEEKLY RATES PER PERSON Single - - $18.00— $20.00 Doable - - $8.00 — $15.00 Transient - - $2.60—$ 3.60 Descriptive Leaflet on Request CHICAGO CLEVELAND NEW YORK 40 TWE CHICAGOAN LUNCHEON— DINNER— SUPPER hfi!RDM Out of Petrashka's kitchens come those delicious Russian- French specialties with just a bit more appetizing flavor than one can get elsewhere. Petruabfca Club Ely Khmara, Mgr. 165 North Michigan Avenue Telephone Dearborn 4388 015 NOItTH MICHIGAN Importers Now selling all remaining fall and winter model gowns, wraps and coats at one-half price. 6 N. Michigan Ave. Chicago 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 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 6? 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, Cafes 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. 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 of 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.,* for acceptable tickets. Couthoui for tickets 'Branches at all the lead ing hotels and clubs. INDOOFk POLO CHICAGO'S indoor polo organizations 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" $5 THE year; $8 FOR TWO TEARS; $10 FOR THREE YEARS Quigley Publishing Company 407 S. Dearborn St. Chicago Horowitz in recital, sketched for "The Chic goan" by Elise. DURING the Brilliant Season when theatre, music, club and the better cinema are so vitally a part of the alert Towns man's environment, The Chicagoan is, we feel, unusually fortunate in being able to present authoritative comment on these phases of the Town by three knowing gentlemen, a bit too lively and literate to be called critics. WE refer, of course, to Mr. Charles Collins, observer to the theatre. Mr. Robert Pollak, for music. And Mr. William R. Weaver, for noteworthy cinema. A CONSIDERATION of Chicago clubs by members of the organizations themselves comprises an aware and informa tive series now in progress. Mr. Francis Coughlin's "Adven tures in Insomnia" seem destined to continue while the Town is up, about and gay after dinner. And always The Chica- GOAn's Town Talk is an obbligato to busy boulevard and suave salon. THUS the course of a magazine mindful of a single pleasant duty — the presentation of a faithful, fortnightly resume of the civilized interests. THERE is no coupon. Subscription may be entered at the business and editorial offices, fifteenth floor, four-o-seven South Dearborn, Chicago. Three dollars the year. Five dol lars for two vears. Tm a (Lucky QirV because Vve found a new way to keep my figure trim. Wken- ever the desire for a sweet tempts me, I light up a Lucky Strike. It's remarkable how nicely the toasted flavor of Luckies satisfies me* Toast* ing has taken out all im purities — all that is left is the thrilling Lucky aroma. I certainly am lucky to he <The Lucky Qirl.'" (C&uMaj (UaJIas HciU<>^ The Original Lucky Poster Girl .¦fi9© teis 3&£M H2steM®ai°S3® ®§m