For Forfoic^bf Ending mce 15 tents ilent streams of super-power . . . unbounded flexibility . . . comforts to carry you to the ends of the earth. These, are the Mercedes-Ben^. . . And are brought about by the most notable achievement in automo tive engineering of recent years — the Supercharger. A crowning refinement permitting of an excellence and performance in motoring that leave nothing to be desired. Model S, two passenger torpedo, transformable Breuete" illustrated above, is capable of speeds up to 1 20 miles per hour. Model K, 4 passenger torpedo, transformable sport, at the right will attain 110 miles per hour. Upholstered in Alpina genuine Lizard. Coachwork, of both models by /. Saoutcht'k of Paris. Tl4t CHICAGOAN 1 "When Liquid Rubber Rose ..." ~T T WAS of paramount importance to me •*¦ to follow the story of liquid rubber. Instinctively I turned to The Journal. In financial news The Journal is pre-eminent. It is first with the latest. It is the most complete. It is the most accurate. And my day hasn't really started until I've read John Parr's article on Wall Street, exclusive in the CHICAGO DAILY JOURNAL TWECWICAGOAN TONIGHT INFORMATION concerning pleasant places to go and things to do after dark — Theater, Music, Restaurant, Cinema, Books — can be had promptly by tele phoning The Chicagoan between 4 and 12 p.m. Inquiries are answered com petently, knowingly and with unfailing regard for the civilised interests. The number is HARrison 0036-7-8. STAGE Musical Comedy ROSALIE— Illinois, 65 East Jackson. Har rison 6510. Marilyn Miller and Jack Don ahue in a tremendous and tuneful pageant after the Ziegfeld manner make as brave and beauteous a show as has been here in months. Dr. Collins approves on page 23 of this issue. Curtain 8:15. Sat. and Wed. 2:15. MUSIC IH MAT— Great Northern, 20 West Quincy. Central 8240. A tre mendous and tuneful pageant in the Shubert manner, lavish, opulent, songful and swinging. Reviewed also on page 23. Curtain 8:20. Sat. and Wed. 2:20. LUCKEE GIRL— Majestic, 22 West Mon roe. Central 8240. A neat musical comedy, nicely done and starring Billy House and Doris Vinton. Not too for mal, either. See remarks on page 23. Curtain 8:20. Sat. and Wed. 2:20. LOVELY LADT— Garrick, 64 West Ran dolph. Central 8240. Mitri, in the title role, comes on stage nightly to prove the fitness of the title. A neat, pleasing little show worth attending. Curtain 8:20. Sat. and Wed. 2:20. HELLO YOURSELF— Four Cohans, 119 North Clark. Central 8240. A very brisk, amusing, tuneful, joyous piece in the collegiate tradition. We do not say it is copied from "Good News"; we only cite a resemblance to that merry piece as high praise. Curtain 8:30. Sat. and Wed. 2:30. Drama COQUETTE— Selwyn, 180 North Dear born. Central 3404. Helen Hayes a moving and a tragic star in a fine piece of theatre wherein young and old ideals meet in ruinous conflict. See it. Cur tain 8:30. Sat. and Wed. 2:30. THE FROW PAGE— Erlanger, 127 North Clark. State 2461. The lurid headlines of this farcical masterpiece begin to go stale on the street edition, even if it is far and away the best feature yarn yet on the newspaper business. By all means. Curtain 8:30. Sat. only 2:30. THE BATCHELOR FATHER — Black- stone, 60 East Seventh. Harrison 6609. A knowing and salty play concerned with THE CHICAGOAN PRESENTS Chicago Lincoln, by Constantin Aladjalov .......,..^..i..'.v...Cover Current Entertainment fair the fort night ending February 23.....:\.l..Page 2 For the Inner Chicagoan 4 Notes and Comment, By Martin J. IJuigJey .....:;&........... 7 Our Cheapest Sentiment, by^James Weber Linn 9 Ringside Moments, by Nat Karsqn 10 Cheerio, by Charles Westley % 1 1 The' Little Lady Herself, by Simon L. Rameynn ., 12 Prima Donnas of the Press, by Arthur Meeker, Jr.. 13 Adieu to the Auditorium, by A. R. Rats 14 Why Arizona? by Irene Castle Mc Laughlin 15 Red, by John Reynolds 16 Adventures in Insomnia, by Francis C. Coughlin 17 "The Chicagoan's" Town Talk 19 Model Existence, by Gaba 20-21 A Page of Stage, by Nat Karson 22 The Stage, by Charles Collins 23 Counter Repartee, by Sid Hix 24 The Racquet Club, by Arthur Bissell 25 A Poetic Acceptance, by Donald Plant 26 Father Quille — Chicagoan, by Shan van Vocht :.... 27 Croquet Equestrian, by the Roving Reporter 29 Music, by Robert Pollak 32 The Chicagoenne, by Arcye Will 34 Cinema, by William R. Weaver 36 Books, by Susan Wilbur 38 the offspring of a gentleman who was never married. Good clean fun. Closes February 16. Curtain 8:30. Sat. only 2:30. SIX CHARACTERS IN. SEARCH OF AM AUTHOR— Goodman Memorial, Lake- front at Monroe. Central 7085. The capable, earnest Goodman Players do this difficult and splendid tragedy with fine professional skill. By all means. Curtain 8:20. Friday mat. 2:20. THE TRIAL OF MART DUGAN— Adel- phi, 11 North Clark. Randolph 4466. Melodrama — and excellent. Blonde Ann Harding is accused, the spectators sit in court, the real murderer is found and altogether one is sure of a pleasant eve ning at theatre. Curtain 8:30. Sat. and Wed: 2:30. APPEARANCES — Princess, 1 59 South Clark. Central 8240. A helter-skelter drama of good and bad moments, but enlivened hugely by Doe Doe Green, a find on the comedy stage. Might try it Curtain 8:30. Sat. and Wed. 2:30. THE SCARLET WOMAN — Cort, 132 North Dearborn. Central 0019. Well, not so scarlet. A fetching pink, maybe! Pauline Frederick is good, the play pleas ant, an evening worth while. Curtain 8:30. Sat. and Wed. 2:30. DIAMOHD LIL— New Apollo, 74 West Randolph. Central 8240. Mae West sings "Frankie and Johnny," while the more knowing customers roll in the aisle. The funniest — inadvertedly, of course, but what's that to do with it — spasm yet on the boards to this observer's knowledge. See page 23. My Gawd, yes! Curtain 8:30. Sat. and Wed. 2-3o' THE ROTAL FAMILY — Harris, 17o North Clark. Central 1880. A comic based on the actor within the actor plot and amusing stuff. To be reviewed. Cur tain 8:30 (presumably). Sat. and Wed 2:30. THIS THING CALLED LOVE— Woods 64 West Randolph. Central 8240. A light comedy displaying Minor Watson, Juliette Day, Violet Heming. Fair eve ning. Curtain 8:30. Sat. and Wed 2:30. SHAKESPERIAN REPERTOIRE— Stude baker, 418 South Michigan. Harrison 2792. The Stratford-Upon-Avon-Festi- val-Company presents the Bard according to the following schedule (curtain 8:15- Sat. and Wed. 2:15): Feb. 4 — Taming of the Shrew; Feb. 5 — Hamlet; Feb. 6 — Wed. (matinee) — Julius Caesar; Feb. 6 — Wed. (evening) — Merry Wives; Feb 7— Henry IV. Part I; Feb. 8— Midsum mer Night's Dream; Feb. 9 — Sat. (mati nee) — Merry Wives; Feb. 9 — Sat. (eve ning) — Taming of the Shrew; Feb. 11 — Richard III; Feb. 12— Merry Wives; Feb. [continued on page four} 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, Union Oil Building. San Francisco Office: Russ Building. Subscription $3.00 annually, single copies 15c. Vol. VI, No. 11 — for the Fortnight ending February 23. (On sale February 9.) Entered as second class matter, March 25, 1927! at the Post-Office at. Chicago, 111., under the act of Mareh 3, 1879. Copyright 1929. [The Chicagoan's telephone number is Harrison 0036-7-8.] TWtCWICAGOAN 3 Chicago welcomes! praises! The N EW Herald and Examiner IT is winning not only the praise and welcome of Chicago's lead ers,, but the enthusiastic approval of newspapermen the country over! It represents long months of ex periment — the kind that shapes the careers of all great metropoli tan dailies. It brings newpolicies ! New treat ment of the news! New features brimming with entertainment. Every month, almost every week, enjoy a New Herald and Examiner. Among other things, you will admire the new Herald and Exam iner for its more intelligent han dling of crime news . . . for its quicker perception of civic needs and its aggressive, intelligent sup port of new projects. The new Herald and Examiner has achieved such an impressive sum total of superior qualities that it is now recognized as one of the most important, one of the most intensely dramatic newspapers in the world. Thousands call it (he most interesting newspaper in Chicago! For the new Herald and Exam iner has retained, in addition, all of its regular, exclusive features which no other Chicago paper has ever been able to duplicate. .... World figures writing on world events . . . the greatest variety of brilliant departments found in any newspaper ... a fresh, original, dramatic touch in news writing . . . a modern type makeup that is interesting and easy to read from front page to bad . William Wrigley. Jr. says — "J depend on Arthur Brisbane in the Herald and Examinerforaquick, intelligent digest of the day's news. When he sums' up world affairs, he interprets them with one of the greater t funds of knowledge f have ever discovered" has added definite improvements. If you have not read a Herald and Examiner recently, get one tomorrow. You will be surprised at the extent of these improve ments. You, too, will discover and Walter Dill Scott, president of North western University, says — ''Some of today's best books. I find are published serially in the Herald and Examiner. I cannot help but feet that in giving this service, to its readers, the Herald and Examiner is rendering a definite and worth-while service" Mrs. John B. Drake. Jr. says — "I find the Dowager's column particularly pleasing, alert and entertaining. The Dowager has a way of saying things in an interesting manner Her style is informal and entertaining. This styte seems characteristic of the whole paper" It is characteristics such as these that bring the endorsement of Chicago's leading citizens. They are the distinctive qualities of a better newspaper.a more inter esting, more modern, more com plete, more progressive newspaper. Mrs. Ruth Hanna McCormick says — "The Herald and Examiner's editorial support of national and state road programs, waterway development, im provement of aviation and. locally, it. efforts toward meeting the needs of Chicago all constitute public service of the highest order" Let the New Herald and Exam iner keep you informed on subjects most vital to you. Let the New Herald and Examiner entertain you —every day in the year. Start to read and enjoy it tomorrow. AN INTERESTING NEWSPAPER George Rector, of the famous Rector' '« Restaurant, says—uMy hat off to Pru dence Penny and her recipes in the Herald and Examiner. She has helped to make cooking an art* Ber menus are interest' ing, even to an old hand at the game" 4 TWi; CHICAGOAN 13 — Wed. (matinee) — Taming of the Shrew; Feb. 13 — Wed. (evening) — Julius Caesar; Feb. 14 — Midsummer Night's Dream; Feb. 15— Hamlet; Feb. 16— Sat. (matinee) — Midsummer Night's Dream; Feb. 16 — Sat. (evening) — Merry Wives of Windsor. MACBETH — Auditorium, 58 East Con gress. Harrison 1240. A lavish produc tion with splendid sets after sketches by Gordon Craig and featuring Florence Reed, Lyn Harding and William Farnum, this business has won unstinted critical praise. See page 23. However, in the opinion of this observer, it is punk, ham, garbled, and delivered in Polish. And in this opinion we concur with Mons. Levin of The Daily J\ews and stand ready to exchange cartels for combat with fire- axes in the alley back of the Congress. Curtain 8:15. Sat. and Wed. mat. 2:30. 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. CINEMA UHITED ARTISTS— Randolph at Dear born. The Town's best cinema. McVICKERS—25 W. Madison. Balaban and Katz at their best. ROOSEVELT— 110 N. State. Balaban and Katz at their next best. CHICAGO — State and Lake. Good pic tures, pretty good music, lots of gold braid and 5,000 seats. ORIENTAL— 20 W. Randolph. Jazz opera and fairly good pictures. GRANfADA— Sheridan at Devon. The best cinema North. AVALON— 70th at Stony Island. The best cinema South. MARBRO— 4100 W. Madison. The best cinema West. TABLES Downtown BLACKSTOHE HOTEL— 6? 6 South Mich igan. Harrison 4300. An inn long known as a kind of institute of civilization. Al ways a high point. Margraff's music. August Dittrich is maitre d'hotel. STEVENS HOTEL— 730 South Michigan. Wabash 4400. Largest of Chicago hotels, 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 from 6:30 to 9:30 p. m. Stalder is headwaiter. COHGRESS 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 mu sic. Juan Muller is maitre d'hotel. 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. COLLEGE INN— Hotel Sherman. Franklin 2100. A well known place, offering the [listings begin on page two} best entertainment available, usually by authentic stage stars. Braun is head- waiter. BAL TABARIN— 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. Saturday only. Dick Reed is headwaiter. See Mr. Coughlin on page 17. 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. GRATLINGS — 410 North Michigan. Whitehall 7600. A deft and accept able victualry, pleasant, well attended by good people and most conveniently situ ated. Food is apt to be more to feminine than masculine taste, but it is, neverthe less, excellent. Far and Near North 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 llG3.{i^T3.it!Cr THE GREEN MILL— 4806 Broadway. A late purveyor to the wakeful in the Wil son Avenue district, the Mill boasts Solly Wagner's band, a slick dance floor, enter tainers, a lavish revue and satisfied cus tomers. Dave Bondi is headwaiter. SALLY'S— 4650 Sheridan Road. A break fast place with no reservations and few inhibitions patronized by a gay night gang until, say, 9 a. m. Merry. Im promptu. Amusing. 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. LAKESHORE DRIVE HOTEL— 181 Lake- shore Drive. Superior 8500. The glitter of the genuine gold coast, wealthy, suave, aloof, impeccable. John Birgh is head- waiter. 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. 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. CHEZ PIERRE— Ontario and Fairbanks Court. Superior 1347. An old and popular refuge against sleep. Floor show, dining, dancing and considerable entertainment. The patronage of con firmed night livers and sight-seers alike Music by Hoffman. Paul is headwaiter See a further consideration under AD VENTURES IN INSOMNIA, page n TURKISH VILLAGE— 606 North Clark* Delaware 1456. A joint guaranteed to keep any party awake. Try it. RED STAR INN— 1528 North Clark Delaware 3942. German dishes sumptu ously done in vast portions. As quaint and soothing a dining room as exists here abouts. 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. JULIEH'S— 1009 North Rush. Delaware 4341. Great eating at plain tables under the supervision of Mama Julien, now alas, a widow. A show place, mildly' The dinner promptly at 6:30. CIRO'S— 18 West Walton. Delaware 2592 Highly notable edibles lovingly done in art exclusive eating place mostly in formal dress. Louis Steffins is table chief FRASCATI— 619 Cass. Delaware ' 9669 A pleasant, competent Italian restaurant with deft service, nice people, notable dishes. JIM IRELAND'S OTSTER HOUSE— 632 North Clark. Delaware 4144. Sea foods in profusion until 4 a. m. or thereabouts An after-theatre choice alike satisfying to soul and to esophagus. CAFE OLD STAMBOUL— 39 East Oak Delaware 1825. A Turkish kitchen un der the hand and eye of Mons. Mosgofian the Stamboul serves a weird and tooth some platter. Highly perfumed and something of a show place. Out South CAFE LOUISIAHE— 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 din ing. Mons. Max is headwaiter and an expert guide to the cuisine. SHORELAXD 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 de Barbary. CLUB APEX— 330 East 3 5th. Douglas 4878. A black and tan patronized by nice people out for a lark. Only if you, like that sort of thing, and then — fine. Jimmy Noone's band. Frankie Sine is headwaiter. SUHSET CAFE— Across the street from Apex. A larger and livelier colored- white club, pleasantly unrefined with some of the best people and some of the less best. Mistuh Porter is headwaiter. Charley Edgar's band. Try it some night GRANADA CAFE— 6800 Cottage Grove! Hyde Park 0646. The dancingest of all night places, young, alert, innocent, lively and crowded. Guy Lombardo's swoon ing rhythms, happy customers, late hours. Better reserve a table in advance for a week-end night. Billy Leather is head- waiter. See a more extensive survey on page 17. RAPHAEL'S— 7913 Stony Island Avenue. Regent 1000. A lavishly appointed dine and dance place on the far south side. In these days of crowded refuges Raphael's remains comfortably spacious. THE CHICAGOAN s the moving finger writes Motor history is made An ever-changing message appears nightly on the great sign north of the river. New words, new ideas — moment by moment. They symbolize the restless, irresistible tide of progress in the motor industry. For what Cadillac is pioneering today will become standard practice within the next few years. Consider this: Cadillac, today, as in the past, is more than abreast of the times. The 8 fundamental improvements anticipate and provide for the needs of car owners far into the future. Notable among these improve ments in mechanism and body design are— the Silent Shift Transmission, the Duplex four-wheel brakes, the Security-plate glass. Read that sign. It points the way to satisfied ownership and unalloyed pleasure in driving. CADILLAC MOTOR CAR COMPANY, Chicago Branch n The New v^A The New JLA. The New FL 6 TUE CHICAGOAN & >onsorin delate Jjlue and iSlate vrre j We predict a smart career and a lashionable one lor these two new colors lor opring . . . presented first by lhe Oalon in an exclusive, modernistic creation ol irresistible charm . . . another prool ol the Oalon s artistic prestige in the field ol lashion. the tjalon of WOLOCK & BAUER Michigan Avenue at M.adison Otreet CHICAGO CI4ICAG0AN JUST at the moment when the conclusion becomes in escapable that the Sanitary District of Chicago has been operated more or less as an institution for private gain, the timely intelligence is issued from Washington that Chicagoans during 1927 paid, in taxes two and one-half times as much as in 1917. In the present clamor about diversion of public funds this news will be no balm to the feelings of the taxpayer. Even without statistical support, the taxpayer normally harbors the impression that tax collections, under adroit political manipulation, have been mounting unreasonably and without due return. This factual assurance that taxes in Chicago since 1917 have increased two hundred and fifty per cent will leave the taxpayer somewhat less tolerant than usual of such mat' ters as the expenditure of something over a million dollars for a sprinkling of cinders over an alleged bridle path along the north branch of the drainage canal. Now that the inquiry is under way, the authorities should become impressed with the fact that publicity without pun ishment is a hollow gesture. Such cases result only in a pandering to the impression of the man in the street that graft is an inevitable accompaniment of public service — creating a public attitude which is a refuge for the dishonest public servant and a discouragement to the official who does not regard his election or appointment as a lien upon the public funds. ? LOCAL units of the Coast Guard have been mobilised for - the defense of the lake front against rumored aggres- sions of a fleet of rum ships. Whether the invading ships are real ships or only phantoms is a question that cannot be answered at this time. There is, however, ready assurance that the forces of law and order are poised for any eventuality, including the bobbing ice cakes in the lake and the near-zero temperatures. It is unfortunate, for the personal welfare of the Coast 3uard, as well as other considerations, that this rum ship scare, which is susceptible to currency at any time, is not confined to the Summer months. During such periods the public's access to the lake front is more pleasant and more practicable. The Coast Guard's preparedness is a spectacle that the public would enjoy and in this case at least the end of popular entertainment would be served. ? A UGMENTATION of the personnel of the local con- A\ stabulary has been most earnestly advocated during the past few weeks. It now appears that at least a few hundred more stalwarts will be recruited to the force. Considerable interesting information and discussion has been adduced in the campaign for more police. Among the arguments is the plea that more police will aid Chicago in redeeming its so-called fair name. The more elaborate police establishments of New York and London have been referred to. The Journal has obliged with a number of graphs, pie-charts and comparative figures. Adequate policing of the city is, of course, one of the necessary steps toward a better day. But it is necessary also to discourage the dissipation of the energies of the police department in continually locking up persons who are continually let go by the courts. As to this matter of the city's fair name, whatever sort of a name it has is the product of the news columns of the daily press. And it is there only that a desirable label may be created. ? THE ability to get things done in public life so often generates the cry of "Czar" from the littler people in the ranks that adherents of Mrs. Ruth Hanna McCormick will become hardly at all disturbed over the charge that Mrs. McCormick, even at this early moment before taking her seat in Congress, is seeking to set up a "czardom" in Illinois politics. For purity's sake the charge should be revised in the feminine — to "czarinadom." With this small concession, Mrs. McCormick may then proceed peacefully to the Congress. ? RIGHT in the midst of the crumbling of one masculine stronghold after another in the advance of the emanci' pated feminine, the spiriting news comes from La Salle Street that the Rookery Building barber shop, flying in the face of the times, has made so bold as to promulgate a rule against service to ladies. While it is yet too early to call the victory complete, there is encouragement in the announcement of the defending forces that they have the situation well in hand. It is to be hoped that the defense will succeed without recourse to any of the guerrilla tactics that are being mentioned, which include photographs showing m'lady just how she looks to the surrounding males. ? THE decision of the Chicago Athletic Association to abandon its semi- paid track team of expert athletes is the heralding rumble of an approaching movement among various of the large athletic clubs which is going to be advantageous to the ordinary, non-expert member. Too much emphasis has been placed by the athletic clubs upon the illusory achievement of winning teams. This has meant the subordination of the interests of the ordinary member who is without any special prowess, while the best facilities of the club have been reserved for the expert who, usually, is only a member by courtesy. It is the ordinary member, after all, to whom the clubs owe an obligation, if for no better reason than the fact that he pays the bills. Physical fitness is the objective of the ordinary member, while the expert points himself toward medals and records, the question of fitness already having been disposed of. The health, sports diversion and physical fitness of its membership may not achieve mention on the sport page, but it is, nevertheless, something that the clubs might well give precedence to over the matter of medals and records. — M ARTIN J. QUIGLEY. 8 THE CHICAGOAN FIFTH AVENUE COMINC-TO 840 NORTH MICHIGAN A/ENUE EARLV IN MARCH L_ THE CHICAGOAN 9 Our Cheapest Sentiment A Pleasantly Pointed Analysis of the Demfisey Complex By JAMES WEBER LINN YOU know what I mean by the sporting world. The prize-light ers, their managers and promoters; the race-track gangs; the habitual gamblers on sport; even the peripatetic foot ball players who "turn" professional. The personalities of the strange world are the source of more biographical sentimentality than has ever been pro voked even by maudlin dying poets or mean condemned murderers. Now and then a man who has been acquainted with their reeking lives tells the truth about them in a short story, and then you may have such a classic of repul sion as Ring Lardner's 'The Cham pion." But the customary references to this section of the underworld are to be found in the sport-sections of our newspapers. These references give the public what, it is believed, the public wants. And they often introduce such false biography, butter over crudeness with such fine words, and color moral ignorance with such pretended gentil ity, as must make angels weep. Beyond all questions, most if not all of these sporting-men have physical courage. So have wolves and bond- salesmen. A ribbon-clerk is quite as likely to lead a forlorn hope as a patent-leathered hobo turned shipyard worker. Only, the ribbon-clerk and the bond salesmen are decidedly less likely to alloy their courage with wolf - meanness, or wolf -indifference to group ethics. These sporting men are occa sionally fond of little children, even go ing so far now and then as to talk baby-talk to such of their own off spring as may happen to be born in wedlock. As much, however, can be said of, for instance, art-dealers, whose glories as a class one does not often see illuminated in the public prints. In a good many cases, too, these sport ing-men are faithful to their given word. Of many janitors, however, and even ministers, the same can be said. Indeed, except among the historians of the sporting- fraternity, such common honesty is taken for granted. Only among the sport-gangsters is it cele brated as the single saving virtue. Physical courage and endurance, then; occasional family decency; and not infrequent common honesty, are the high peaks of the sport character. What a pitiful collection of points of praise that is! More, far more, may be said without exaggeration of the ordinary dog. Yet if man, to be praise worthy, need not be even on the dog's level in hopes, dreams, affections and ambitions, what becomes of our human pride? ONCE, long ago, I was a sports re porter. Then and since then I have met many of these leading fight- handlers, gamblers, pro- amateur foot ball players, bookies, home-run hitters, the prize what-nots of sport. I cannot recall one who was interesting either for what he thought, or interested in doing any good for the world. Some were interesting for what they had done, it is true. Steve Brodie who had jumped off a high bridge; Gene Tun- ney, who destroyed the Dempsey myth, and in so doing won me, never a be liever in that myth, the equivalent of the price of this article; Babe Ruth, ^$w&n^ 10 THE CHICAGOAN who secured for himself the highest salary ever given to a ball-player; and Red Grange, who once made four touchdowns against Michigan in fifteen minutes — or was it fifteen touchdowns in four minutes? But I never talked to one who had one original idea to rub against another. Very few of them had ever done an hour's honest labor with his MIND in his life, or was cap able of it. And certainly no one of them ever dreamed of aiding the prog ress of mankind, or, so far as I could discover, ever thought of life in any other terms than as a kind of cheese which mites may eat into, till finally, bloated with rich provision, they die. Did you read the article, in a recent Saturday Evening Post, by our fellow citizen Julius Rosenwald, in which Mr. Rosenwald explains the theory of his philanthropy? I am not, here or else where, concerned with the correctness of that theory. But nobody can fail to note that Mr. Rosenwald takes it for granted that success entails respon sibility. The business of men who have made money honestly, thinks Mr. Rosenwald, is to spend it wisely. So think Henry Ford, and John D. Rocke feller. So has thought many a Chicago citizen who after a long, courageous, reasonably intelligent business life has died (uncelebrated by the posthumous serial publication of a half dozen "of ficial" and unofficial autobiographies and biographies in the newspapers) and has left much of his fortune to give opportunities to the young or re lief for the less fortunate. Who ever heard of a "sportsman" doing the same? GENE TUNNEY ballyhoos his fondness for Shakespeare from New Haven, Connecticut, to Palm Beach. Gene has earned a couple of million, and married, one hears, several more. Shall we yet have the Tunney Foundation for Shakespearean Re search, at Yale or elsewhere? Or the Tunney Society for the Relief of Super-annuated Blacksmiths, in honor of Tom Heeney? We shall not. We shall never see Mr. Tunney formulat ing any philanthropic theory, or ac- cepting any social responsibility what ever. He is a "sportsman," and sports men are as ignorant of such things as they are of the difference between or ganized charity and flinging hot dollars into a crowd of scrambling newsboys. Not that I would pick on Gene. He is, at that, head and shoulders above his crowd, a fact which accounts for his unpopularity among them. After the Philadelphia "battle of the cen tury" I nearly got into a fight with the man I had won money from, because I gave as my reason for betting on Tunney the fact that he could read and write. "Maybe he can," was the answering growl, "but I never heard of a fighter before that was any better off for that." The gang of "sports men" resent even Gene's rudiments of education and mental refinement. I :ite him merely as the best of his sort, tnd so illustrative of what a sort! Well, yawns the reader, what of it? vVhy the excitement? For this reason : that "sportsmanship" is so commonly :ited as the ideal American ethics. Young men are told that competitive >ports "build character." Our passion ate profiteers of physical recreation and sxcitement are made national heroes. The ordinary common decencies shown oy a few of them are exhibited as deals. The cheap and mean routine rf their horse-play is advertised as Jood-nature. Their gambler's indiffer ence to thrift is put forward as an il- ustration of moral courage. The ex- :reme of our national philosophy is summed up in the phrase "Play Square!" The quintessence of our na- :ional advice is expressed in the com mand, "Be a sport!" WHAT about "Think Straight?" What about "Be a gentle man?" These — and even these are iardly the noblest conceivable ideals! —are lost in the shuffle of the marked :ards of the sport. The sport would, if le had read Browning, paraphrase nim: a man's grasp should exactly THE CHICAGOAN n equal his reach, and what's a heaven for but eternal polo with golden balls and mallets, and no Volstead Act be tween chukkers? Sport is only, when you have said the most for it, a delightful method of killing time. Personally — though the fact is not germane to these remarks I would rather watch a football game occasionally than study the political psychology of Andrew Jackson's fa mous attack on the Philadelphia Biddle whose great-grand-nephew has now risen to be gentleman-manager of a prizefighter. I would rather play golf with my gang than read Nietzsche or go to church. But I don't fool myself with the idea that the two years I played scrub football even under die tutelage of A. A. Stagg helped my "character." Stagg did, and does; but the game didn't, even though I broke my own nose and another fellow's col larbone. I don't fool myself with the idea that "there is the truest idealism in the golfer's code." In fact I know more than one man as honest as the day is long in his profession, who regu larly cheats at golf. After more than forty years of deep interest in sports, I can testify to personal knowledge of hundreds of fine gentlemen who have played games well, and still do; but I never knew one man who ever LEAR.NED to be either a gentleman or a philosopher from his play. They give of their best to it; they do not get their best from it; anybody who makes sportsmanship his creed and sportmen his heroes is living in a fog. A futile protest, this. Acrid, if you like. But the spectacle of constant clouds of sentimental cheap perfumery sprayed round the exploiters of a physical function is hard to bear. Cheerio And Farewell I'M going to quit. I'm sick of Chi cago. I'm a failure. I'm going to South Africa. I'll go to South Africa and I'll raise— I'll raise— well, I'll raise something or other down there. I'll get hardened. I'll ship on a cattle boat, that's what I'll do. I'll get in a quarrel with some big bruiser and he'll knock me cold. But I'll learn to fight. That's what I've got to do. I've got to learn to fight. You don't learn to fight in Chicago. You just dance and play bridge and drink gin and go to the theatre and talk about books. And where's it get you? Nowhere. She doesn't care a hoot. No* even half a hoot. I'll go to South Africa — Johannesburg or Hindustan or some place down there, and I'll go to hell. I'll drink myself to death. I'll get the plague. I'll bet I'm getting the plague now. But she wouldn't care. No body 'd care. I'LL go out west. That's what I'll do. I'll get away from everybody around here. Yes, everybody. I'll get a job on a farm and I'll get all brown and strong, that's what I'll do. I'll settle down near a small town and I won't even take my tuxedo with me. If anybody says anything about a tux edo I'll give them— well, I won't do anything but lead a small town life. Who wants to live and work in Chi cago anyhow? You make a lot of money or you don't. What's the differ ence? You've got to learn to fight. I'll join the army. I'll get killed some where. She won't care. She'll say: "Oh, he got killed, did he?" That's all anybody '11 say. Me stretched out lifeless on some desert or something and they'll say: "Oh, he got killed, did he?" That's all they care. Just as long as I can fill in for a dinner party or a week-end I'm welcome. Well, I'm sick of it. I'm through! I wouldn't stay in Chicago any longer if they gave me the city. No sir. Nobody cares a hoot. I'm going to Alaska; I'll be a gold miner or something. And they'll say: "Well, I hope he finds some gold" and forget all about me. Yes sir, this is the turning point in my life. I'm going to Alaska right off, just as soon as I get these engagements filled. — CHARLES WESTLEY. 12 THE CHICAGOAN "Little Egypt" - Stellar Chicagoan The Little Lady of the Streets of Cairo. Chicago and Other Parts By SIMON L. RAMEYNN THAT Freedha has a poetic soul goes without saying. But, unfor tunately, her knowledge of the lan guage of Chaucer and Chesterton is a bit circumscribed. In her youth she was denied, by stress of circumstances, certain of the advantages which accrue upon attendance at school. When other little girls were learning to recite nursery-rhymes Freedha was chewing esh-ham, which is Egyptian for plug- tobacco, and trouping with a gang of Syrian minstrels in the coun try round about the Jordan. Freedha never had an oppor tunity to learn the folk-songs of the hin terland but she has a poetic soul, neverthe less. I talked with her the other day, for about three hours, and I know. And, though she made no mention of it, I could tell from the fire in her eyes, and the ring of her voice,, that what she meant to say, but couldn't, was this: "Bac\ward, turn backward, oh Time in your flight "And ma\e me a child again just for tonight!" For, be it noted and remembered, it was as a child that Freedha attained to fame and glory. Ask anybody here abouts who has even the slightest recol lection of the high-spots of the World's Fair in 1893 and — learn about Freedha from them. For Freedha was the cynosure of all male eyes back in those gala, festive days. Ask Dad. Get him to tell you the story of the little Syrian girl with the fresh, olive-tinted skin and eyes that sparkled like snow- crystals in the morning sun, who danced like nobody's business and who gave birth to a whole race of imitators and inferiors. Freedha the irresistible, iridescent, inimitable, incomparable and inspiring artiste of the famous Street in Cairo which was, by all odds, the piece de resistance with the masculine crowds of our World's Columbian Ex position; Freedha of the silken veil covering the lower part of her face but little else, for whom they conceived the idea of the modern spot-light and the seductive tum-tum-tum of the roll of the drums; Freedha who made possible the Shubert Brothers and Flo Ziegfeld. For the benefit of those who cast their first vote for Calvin Coolidge it may not be amiss to set it down here that Freedha is none other than the original of the immortal "Little Egypt." But — and this is important — if you happen in to the little res taurant in the 700 block on S. Halsted Street, which Freedha and her Greek husband — a good man, she in sists — own and operate, say noth ing about this "Little Egypt" business. Whatever you do, don't call the lady "Little Egypt." Freedha has a way of getting excited about it. When she gets excited she gets nervous and when she gets nervous she throws things. Freedha don't want to be called "Little Egypt" because that is not her name and, be sides, "Egypt is a country, like United States, not a girl." Back in '93, in the Street in Cairo, they called Freedha "The Little Egyptian." When she had established herself as the premier attraction of the Midway Plaisance and began to pack 'em in, twelve shows a day, seven days a week, at 50 cents a \oo\, the opposition got busy. The Turkish Village opened up with a Jew- ish lady from Warsaw and called her "Fatima"; the Persians made a place for another who hailed from Newark, New Jersey, whom they called "Cairo"' and some other outfit — Freedha was so angry when she spoke of it that she couldn't recall which of the auslander groups it was — hired a damsel who was "no good at all" and named her "Little Egypt." Freedha has always looked upon this transgression as a sort of in fringement of her copyright and hence. her fury at the mention of the name. AS a part of this record it might like- i\ wise be mentioned that Freedha was by way ©f being a dancer, unique, distinctive and, for those days, very much of a novelty. The like of her, and her art, had never been seen in this land of the Pilgrim Fathers previous to our Chi' cago Fair of '93. Be fore her coming, most dancing was done with the feet. But with Freedha, dancing was above this. Not that she was esthete, or high brow, or anything like that. She didn't V go around boasting of ^d her ability to use her Jggggf head. The truth is that Freedha, with her dancing, used neither head nor feet but a sort of inbetween movement. X have heard it said, in less elegant circles than this, that Freedha's strong point was the midriff. It is a matter of record that several of the then outstanding medicos examined the lady, in the interest of medical research and decided that she was not so much ambidextrous as she was tummydex' trous. Her great forte was to stand on a small stool about ten inches in diam eter with a bottle of Pomery Sec mounted atop her head and do her stuff. I save you the details except to [continued on page 37] THE CHICAGOAN 13 Prima Donnas of the Press Turning the Tables, Ever So Gently, on the Society Editors of the Daily Papers By ARTHUR MEEKER, JR. 44 ANY little tid-bits, dearie?" i\ "I'm so sorry — I'm in a hurry — I really don't know — ." "Now tell me, isn't your mother going away after Easter?" "No, she isn't." "Well, your father, then — I heard something about a fishing trip in Florida — " "No, father's going to stay right here, too." "Dear me! Well, hasn't your sister opened a new art shop or a cute little studio, or — " "No, that was last year." "Oh! But isn't she going away then at all?" "No, no, nobody's going away." "Well" — desperately — "don't you know anything I can put in the column, like Mrs. Rockefeller Mc- Cormick's starting a home for brake- men or one of the debutantes letting her hair grow in again or — " "No, not a thing." "Oh, dear, then there's nothing else to do — I'll have to rumor Mary Baker's engagement once more — and that's the fifth time since Thanksgiving — .'" HOW often have you held similar conversations with these Prima Donnas of the Press, these sleek, smart self-sufficient young women you meet at the Arts Club and the Assemblies, the modish wedding and gold coast tea, who, strangely, on the telephone abase themselves before you, become sup pliant and almost tearful in their search for the almighty "tid-bit"? And did you ever wonder what they think about when they're at home? How they really reckon their victims, the more or less exclusive eight hundred Chicago fashionables whose comings and goings they chronicle daily, year in, year out, in the chit-chat columns? Yes, probably you have. And prob ably, if you've met them, you know, as I know, that practically every Society Editor in town blithely announces that she intends to write a book about us some day, showing us up as the hollow shams we are. I've no doubt they all could, and perhaps some of them will, though the day the book appears will surely mark the close of their journal istic career. But has none of us ever thought of turning the tables and showing up the Society Editors? Listen, mes enfants, and you shall hear a few of the freak ish fancies and frolicsome notions of Mesdames les belles Imprudents, who shout our secrets from the housetops — the real people that lie behind those anxious voices always ringing up to know if your aunt hasn't bought a diamond tiara or whether (ahem!) a "little stranger" is expected at your house this spring. IN the first place, they are clever creatures, make no mistake about that. No matter what you do, you cannot fool them regarding your posi tion in the social scale. They have you placed in advance, all neatly labelled and hung for future reference on the exact rung of the ladder where you belong. Nobody is firmer about this than the Society Editor. A good many people, who do not realize it, seek to bribe their way into the column by various artful means. They go to Europe and send long de scriptions of their doings to the S. E. — "I just thought you'd like to know we're at the Villa d'Este," or "The Dutch Ambassador to Budapest gave a perfectly charming little dinner for us the other night at Ciro's" — or may be they shower her with embarrassingly expensive Christmas gifts — a dressing gown edged with chinchilla, a casket of priceless perfumes from Paris, a set of furs — no one, not even the offspring of oil magnates from Oklahoma, gets such perfectly marvelous presents as the average Society Editor. Does she take them? ("Say, can a fish swim, Mrs. Vanderbilt?") But, on the other hand, does this open- handed generosity have any effect on the chit-chat column? Just watch and see. No, there's no snob in the world so complacent, so unshakable, so defi nitely set in her ways as the Society Editor. She may pity you, if you live on Ellis Avenue instead of East Elm Street, or if you had the supreme mis fortune to be nee Bollenbauer instead of Blair, but she will not write about you. DON'T blame her for this, — she really can't help herself. What do you suppose her publisher would say if she reported the activities of the West Side Winona Club rather than those of the Casino, or let her kind- heartedness run away with her to the extent of featuring the engagement of Miss Sadie Finkelstein to Mr. Lemuel Markowsky the morning after the opening of the Chicago Civic Opera? After all, ladies must live, and busi ness is business. True, there are a few families which, while not of the first importance, still merit a certain consideration owing to any one of a number of reasons, such as business connection with the paper, advertising, and so forth. These fam ilies, as is only natural, have female relatives whose likenesses they occa sionally wish to have reproduced in the public prints. In such cases the Society Editor is powerless. She bows to the inevitable. But, snob to the last, she usually manages to secure the final word in the matter by relegating the likenesses of the female relatives to the early editions of the paper only, substituting later in the edition that greets your eye on the breakfast table a more suitably snooty selection from her extensive choice of photographs. This is a trick well known to the trade, and the unsuspecting female relatives who suffer from it are known collec tively to the composing room as "Street Edition Brides." So don't be too disappointed if you fail to make the grade, and take this tip from one who knows: NEVER send your picture to a Society Editor unless you are reasonably sure on three points: (A) That you are not a Clubwoman, (B) That you do not and have never lived in Clybourn, Cicero, or any of our other less elegant faubourgs, and (C) That you don't wear glasses! (This last is as important as the other two put together.) AS regards the four great human events, birth, marriage, divorce, 14 THE CHICAGOAN ¦ "ForAuld Lang Syne* The final strains of Opera find the Gal lery indifferent — ff yPS the second balcony luke warm — m»!lw Lfl ;# the first balcony po lite but bored — m ¦y the boxes chill- V pssw**^ and the house shout ing its lungs out! -.is :: "It's all in a day's work to a union scene shifter. "Roll 'em op, Joe. And don't let them high-hat guys get in the way with their sayin' goodbye. One side, youse. Get- tahell out'n the pa rade." ;>i I Id*; ^^fc^fc. and death, the Society Editor is really genuinely interested in the first two only. The last named has, of course, its own special and decent corner in every well regulated paper, and as for divorce, it is rather too risque a sub ject for the antiseptic even-a-baby-can- playwith-it atmosphere of our social columns, and is better left to the news editors, to whom every adulteress is a "prominent society queen," or to the scandal sheets. But — babies and wed dings! (Or would it be more genteel to say weddings and babies?) What field days they are to Mesdames Cha peron, Lorgnette ii Co.! Nothing rejoices the heart of the So ciety Editor so glowingly as to be first to announce an important engagement. "I had the Weyerman-Tucker exclu sive," she will say with pride, at an informal meeting with her rivals (which is usually tea at the Arts Club) . But— - "I was scooped on the Featherstone baby," she mourns to her office inti mates in tones of deepest woe. To be scooped on a baby — how monstrous! One can only surmise that she has been played false by her two favorite pets, the Stork and the Tattle Bird, whose sturdy wings are frequently called to bear the responsibility for the more improbable of her improvisations on the eternal subjects of Weddings and Ba bies. For the rest, the Society Editor bil lows on her way busily, if not exactly silently. She is seen everywhere, goes to everything with far more regularity than the smartest of the smart young women about town. She is not seldom a great deal better dressed than the best dressed matron in the room. And she is apt to be at least three times as amusing. (Don't fall into the error of imagining that, because she has trained herself to write in the irritatingly fluffy, slip-shod style she is hypnotized into thinking the public prefers to the old school "elegant-collation-of-thirty-cov- ers-was-served" she couldn't do a lot better if she tried.) On the whole, in spite of a tendency to ascribe twins to childless couples of sixty and a touching inability to see why any woman who lives south of the river should not be dubbed a "popular University hostess," she is much more intelligent than she is credited with being. And, finally, she does fulfill a very definite mission, a mission that has be come of considerable importance in these chaotic days. She takes Society seriously, a thing Society itself ceased to do at least fifteen years ago. THE CHICAGOAN 15 Why Arizona? An Informal Comment on the Rigors of Winter in the New West By IRENE CASTLE MCLAUGHLIN IT must have been the mention of the word "hot" that got me. I found myself being talked into step ping out into new territory (for me) even before Christmas was well under way. I'd always gone to Florida in Janu ary and adored the sweltering heat of it — the baking sands and bracing salt water. Surely I wasn't going to be robbed of a certain delight for a doubt ful pleasure? But I was! My cold persisted — advice poured in on all sides — I took the doses suggested with vary ing discomfort and no effect. The thermometer dropped to about four above — my toes and fingers ached in the short walk from the house to the garage — so with more than my usual weakness (probably due to after effects of the flu) I signed up to take a cottage at Castle Hot Springs. CHRISTMAS, New Years and the baby's birthday kept me so frantically busy that I didn't suffer the usual foreboding that no good would come of it. The night we left — early in Janu ary — was so cold that I would have entrained for any point even a few miles south of us. My well-wishers at the station seemed filled with envy — my trunks were packed with white shoes and linen dresses — my shivering spirits began to rise. They did not noticeably sink again until the third night on the train proved still bitter cold and, on stepping off at Gallup to send a telegram, I found myself in a blizzard! The next morning we were called at 5:30 — need I say more! Struggling off the train in the pitch dark we ate a silent breakfast in our heaviest fur coats at a wayside restaurant beside the tracks. I couldn't remember hav ing been up at six before, but I was under the impression that day broke along in there somewhere. I've now found that it's nearer eight. For two hours we waited for cars to collect us and take us to Castle Hot Springs. Perhaps we wouldn't have been so im patient if we had ever made the trip before. You wind up, over and around mountains on a narrow, serpentine road for an hour and a half. The mountains are bleak, stony and bare, except for the cactus, that stands, I should say, in solemn majesty — but re minding me more of tombstones to those who had perished of drought and famine. ALONE horse or cow on the mountainside only added to my misery, as I could see nothing they could possibly graze upon and all the stream beds were dry. In the midst of these gloomy reflections, I was jerked back to our own miseries by the baby's being actively and unmis takably sick. A short stop to repair the damage as best we could (though those who have experienced such hard ships will realize how futile were our efforts) and we continued to a whin ing demand as to how much further we had to go — from the baby. Having given up any idea of seeing the vegetation promised by Hot Springs enthusiasts, we suddenly dropped into a palmy garden spot — our destination. It was true — there were orange trees — and full of oranges to prove it, and a stately lane of palms. But by this time my taste for these things had faded. I was suffering a great longing for Florida — and it was so much nearer home! It was still cold and I was too tired to rise above my natural depres sion. HERE were cowboys on every side — many more than guests — and the lady customers all wore overalls or chaps (however you spell them — I mean pants), big cowboy hats, cowboy boots and a scarf knotted loosely around the neck. They had not for gotten their lip rouge and somehow I couldn't get over the feeling that they were kidding. Everyone looked made up for a fancy dress party. The cow boys let out manly whoops once in awhile — according to an old western custom — but the whole thing impressed me much as Greenwich Village had once years ago — Bunk! A horse is $75 a month or $5 a day! Can they be worth it? As I haven't anyone to ride with I'm not going to grab one up. All I can think of is the six hunters I left behind me. Too bad they can't work out here winters. If only they could do the footwork. I've made friends with one little trap dog (having sworn to put such things completely out of my mind for two months). He's a plain little lad who took a great shine to me (of course I spoke to him first, as perhaps I shouldn't). "Skippie" pitched into him the minute we met and got rolled right on his back for his trouble — so im mediately found other pressing interests near by and pretends not to see him at all whenever he joins us on walks. "Skippie" and Symie are having a whirl — racing all over the countryside and perfectly at home — not being on the shy side anyway. ILL probably add to my insanity if I stay here two months or develop a very strong defense for future batters (if you know what I mean). My cold's no better as yet and my disposi tion is just as bad, but I'm eating mighty well, due to that good old American plan by which each paying guest fights to get something back on his initial deposit. I've heard the cowboys sing and it can't be that that makes them so ir resistible — in fact I fail to see their charm. I have a faint suspicion that they are infrequent bathers and I must say they're the laziest class of men I've ever seen — including actors. But why 16 THE CHICAGOAN differentiate? — they're actors, too. Their nasal twang and southern drawl and lazy shuffle are all acting. They wear giant clanking spurs and heavy hats and high heels because the stage is set with a western scene and the male, being full of little boy desires — - must play the "Bad Man" — even to a poor house. Men you would never suspect of such weakness, get a great kick out of playing the "Virginian." (I wonder if they even fool the horses?) Every wife should bring her tired husband out here and let him have his fun. Even the wives might well enjoy them selves if they haven't seen much of cowboys before. If I hadn't lost my taste for 'em years ago — while work ing in movies — I'd probably find Hot Springs as irresistible as those who talked me out of Flor ida — to come here. It looks like an Eastman Kodak ad to me. 'But then, you see, dear, I really am a Bolshevist at heart" THE CHICAGOAN 17 "Adventures In Insomnia" More Orchestral Dm — Introducing the Cut-f or -Dinner Suite IT'S a game played with cards. Some what arbitrarily the four card suites are assigned to four different night places. Let us say, with a kind of loose symbolism, spades represent the Chez Pierre, hearts the Granada, diamonds the Bal Tabarin, clubs the Fountain. The most vivacious member of the party cuts for choice. Spades it is. Call Superior 1347 and arrange for tables at Chez Pierre. Turn east from the drive as directed by the Chez Pierre red arrow on Ontario street and turn right for the entrance on Fairbanks court. Into most night clubs you walk. At the Chez Pierre you take an elevator to the fourth floor and emerge to sackbut and hautboy, incongruously played in a kind of Egyptian tomb chamber. A great many tables. A dance floor cen ter. Very probably a floor show in progress; Chez Pierre entertainment is long drawn out and elaborate. Tread softly; you are on holy ground. For the Chez Pierre is lately noted for the lavishness of its prohibition raids. Every so often it resounds in newsprint because a squad of G-boys has stormed valorously in to annoy diners and peer under tables — and stormed just as valorously out to let further action pine in the Federal courts. It will have been a fortnight, when these lines appear in print, from the most grandiose gesture of them all. Six Federals, handsome and chivalrous, accompanied by six Federal ladies, chaste and beautiful, entered the club. At a given signal they rose and com manded festivities to cease. They went from table to table in search of scoff- law evidence. What they found is a matter of dispute — the affair has not yet been settled. But they enforced something or other. A valiant youth, citizen and voter, stood on the plain privilege of the meanest American; he demanded to hear by what right un known gentlemen approached his table and interfered in his lawful evening. Him the six government gentlemen col lared, and not deigning to answer, escorted from his party to the Federal building where they read a document. After that he was free to go. Other By FRANCIS C.#COUGHLIN diners were not physically disturbed. Indeed, the whole evening was some thing of a lark. Yet no one seriously maintains that liquor is sold, "manufactured or trans ported by Chez Pierre authorities. There are night clubs, alas, and in Chicago, where intoxicants are served cheerfully and at handsome profit to the management. But Chez Pierre is not one of them. It is an innocent place catering to diners and dancers. To be sure some diners and some dancers indulge — but hardly at the insistence of the cafe. For the most part, patrons are genial and wakeful people out for an evening. They listen to the floor show, converse amiably, enjoy their food and depart — as night 'I'm afraid I shall always be just a great big boy' 18 THE CHICAGOAN clubs go — at a respectable hour. The place is reasonably priced, brisk, tune ful and moderately merry. Indeed, an observer of night life is somewhat at a loss for adjectives when describing the Chez Pierre. It is neither wastrel nor wicked, nor is it loud and brawl ing. It does not glitter noticeably, neither is it dull. It is not exclusive in the sense that only a card-bearing nobility is allowed entrance. It is large, but not tremendous. And while inter esting, it is certainly not breath-taking. Hoffman's band is good. Paul is head- waiter. Supposing that a card of the spade suite has been exposed in the cut, one may look forward to an adequate eve ning with nice people, a pleasant dance orchestra, good food, and — with the co operation of a friendly druggist — a civilized number of iced highballs. One may look forward, in short, to the Chez Pierre. Dress is optional. BUT supposing the cut deck reveals a heart. Then summon the car and go south to the Granada. The Granada is a dancing club. It is young and alert, lively and crowded. Its patrons wear the collegiate stamp in clothes and bearing, which is to say they are polite and personable young people, very agile on the dance floor and nimble in conversation. And there is considerable whoopee, a byproduct of high spirits and carefree outlook. And principally there is Guy Lom- bardo's band, which alternately evokes smooth and voluptuous music, far and away the best cafe dance music avail able — one's own feet must be judge of such matters — and sits individually at cafe tables to chat with patrons during intermission. A novel and pleasant custom for night club bandsmen. A knowing patron, comfortably seated and his ears lapped in harmony, may now point out the very corner in which a headline incident took place not so long ago. An unfortunate event, this shooting. Unfortunate be cause it is so completely misleading as to the character of the place. There is no more peaceful and amiable inn on the shores of Michigan than the Granada. Just a brace of hoodlums happening to meet — one opened fire; it might have happened on the boule vard. Almost, it might have happened in church. But the corner is notable, and mentioned in passing. Sit quietly at the Granada. Sip your gingerale in comfort. Notice the people about you. These are not the wise and wary brand of night club goer, anxious to squeeze enjoyment from the evening for the hard satisfac tion of a thing well won and adequately paid for. Rather Granada people are young, eager, fresh. The glamour of night life does not please them as a connoisseur is pleased. Rather it en raptures them as the glamour of things enraptures the young. Perhaps it is youth. Perhaps Lombardo's music. At any rate it is a strange, new thing in night club atmosphere. And so, if you can, enter into that spirit. Billy Leather is headwaiter. The telephone, Hyde Park 0646. Sixty-eight Hundred on Cottage Grove. Better dress. IF diamonds are turned up in the cut of cards, then dress by all means for the evening's choice is the Bal Tabarin, in the Sherman House annex, on the dingy north side of the Loop. Enter on Lake under a dun. canopy. As at the Chez Pierre, take a special elevator. The Bal is quieter than most clubs. It is aloof and knowing and pleasantly restrained in its enjoyment of life after curfew. It is a long, seemingly narrow room with seats along the walls and tables flanking the dance floor. The orchestra at one end. Music soft and lights softer. Against the shadowy walls one catches the glitter of dia monds and the sleek phosphorescence of starched linen. Life is not all cream and cakes at the Bal Tabarin. It is something to be enjoyed politely, suavely, even a bit warily. One sees elderly people, too, at the Bal. And one sees well known faces, this lawyer, that official, yonder a handsome waster, and beyond a stage star, to the left a social big-wig, and, just a bit too prominent, a visiting buyer revelling on his expense money. Acts at the Bal are good. Music is better. It is all competent, brisk stuff sliding quickly over sentiment and in tricate in devices for beat and rhythm. There are — one is grateful to note — few ballads and many alert fox trots and the floor is not too crowded. Dancers are suave and competent, but they are not up to Granada standards; the Bal is too formal for that. Its dancing and conduct are of the boule vard and its people are boulevard people. Down below, Clark street is a shab by parade. Abruptly off Randolph, brave in the tiny glitter of theatre signs, Clark is down at the heel and hungry; a street of panhandlers and idle men. Little the Bal cares. It dances late and chatters merrily. But if it does not care, it at least knows. And perhaps pleasure at the Bal is keener for the shabbiness of Clark Street. The Bal is for successful people; successful people are people who may have known want. They take their evening temperately, not risking too much happiness to fortune. Dick Reed is headwaiter. Bal Tabarin is open Saturday evenings only. SUPPOSING a club is cut. Then go to the Fountain at 39th and Cottage. Enter humbly along a dark passageway that brings one suddenly to light and sound. The room is smoky, close, intimate. A blue light shimmers in the tuba as it, in turn, reinforces the wail of a blues already frantic in the woodwinds and strings. The Fountain is hard, too. Not hard with the aloof, reserved boulevard polish, which is disdainful — but hard with ready, careless, uncurbed vigor, which is alternately friendly and contemptu ous. Dancing at the Fountain is an indi vidual exercise. One dances, un abashed, as one pleases. Be damned to anybody who looks askance. The Fountain is nothing if not democratic. Music is good. It is, moreover, music of facile loyalties. Out of re spect for the Conference football cham pions, the band renders "Illinois Loyalty" — a march impartially cheered. And then Notre Dame — great enthusi asm. And "Wave the Flag of old Chicago"— Yeah! Of course, "My Wild Irish Rose" and "I Got a Woman Crazy for Me." Both sentiments are applauded. They are, at the Fountain, swell ideas, all of them. Anything, at the Fountain, is a swell idea. The air clamors with swell ideas, most of them audibly discussed. A great many of them translated into vigorous practice. The Fountain is late; it is free and open; prices are moderate. And it gives the party a great big break. To date, your investigator is not able to report a single inhibition at the Fountain. Hooray! Love Gets a Sock You love me 'cause my body's slim, Because I'm white and long of limb. What if my veins were varicose, And I should wear elastic hose? — G. G. F. <7Ze CHICAGOAN'/ TOWN TALK Contrast PICTURES of babies, given him by admiring mothers when he was health commissioner, adorn the walls of the office of the forward-looking Coroner Herman Bundesen. Only pic tures of deceased friends were upon the walls when Oscar Wolff, his predeces sor, was in office. A Noble Exception SO many titled foreigners have made Chicago their home that a title pops out at one from the pages of the tele phone book with surprising frequency. The list grows monthly. A recent ad dition to the foreign colony is Count Corrado Vaselli, who has taken an apartment on Elm Street. He came to America with the Florentine choir, and lingered behind to sell antiques in Chicago. He has a beautiful tenor voice. His sister is a mezzo soprano with La Scala. Count Vaselli says he does not like selling antiques so well. The dust from the antiques is not so pleasant, it seems. Add Divorce Evil IT was an informal reunion of five old friends — very informal. As the club evening deepened past nine o'clock sentiment welled into song and song inspired more sentiment, which was the evening's ultimate undoing, for the liveliest member thought fondly of bis wife and recalled that he had engaged to meet her at eleven. His friends demurred. They pro vided excuses for him, excellent and voluble excuses. He regarded them amicably, almost as a lenient philoso pher might regard a nimble sophist. But he was unmoved. Very firmly he secured his hat. Meticulously he placed it on his head. "It won't do, Boys," he said, "it won't do at all. These excuses of yours are admirable in a way; they are well conceived, and, to an amateur in ex cuses, possibly convincing. But my wife, Gentlemen, has been married be fore. Good Evening!" Dedication MR. ARTHUR MEEKER, JR., lately author of American Beauty, the mildly acid novel of bad manners reviewed on page 38 of this issue, dedicates the book to "Allen." A brusque reportorial gentleman called Mr. Meeker shortly after his book appeared: "Mr. Meeker?" "Yes." "Mr. Meeker, you dedicate your book to a guy named Allen. Who is Allen? We want it for the papers." "Why Allen," explained the author, What I need, you brute, is Romance" 20 THE CHICAGOAN "is a character in the book, that's all. A character, you see, in the book. And I dedicate the book to him." "Oh, yeh?" "Certainly" said Mr. Meeker, "Didn't you read the book?" The answer delivered into a dead telephone is happily unrecorded. The Raskob Avocation THE automobile show brings to the surface of memory an incident of last year's exhibit. Harold Patterson gave a large and successful party one night at the Samovar. John J. Raskob was a guest. Late in the evening Mr. Raskob, with a happy smile, crossed the dance floor and took the orchestra leader's violin from his hands. Then Mr. Raskob, who was still with Gen eral Motors and had not yet identified himself with Mr. Smith, walked about the floor playing pretty tunes. He got a good hand. Mr. Raskob is an excel lent fiddler. The Good Vintner THE party had been going a long time. According to an enthusi astic poll of male celebrants, it was getting better as it went along. There was, however, a distressing minority report adopted in silent caucus — a re port sponsored by four young ladies who favored immediate adjournment sine die. And this minority resolution, though voted down by the strong ice box bloc, threatened secession. Matters had reached a deadlock. Se cession involved the withdrawal of four male escorts from a very convivial meets ing, and to this escorts demurred. The free withdrawal of four young ladies at an early hour in the morning had its unchivalrous side, also. Male die- hards paused in thought. On one hand, there was principle and the duty of providing an adequate male escort. On the other there was party. It seemed that party must give way be fore principle — a mournful state of af fairs. Then John, the vinter, interposed. John had joined the party late. His first delivery having been consumed, John had rushed out two additional gallons of his excellent wine. He paused to grow warm; he stayed to grow merry. Very blandly he offered a solution. He, too, must leave the party. Busi ness, after all, was business. Even a The Very Elegant People V Window 1 By Gfl POOR LITTLE RICH GIRL— Before she was sold down the river to Massa Moe Taskbaum, Eloise was intended for the finest frocks. Now she does the $5.75's for South State Street. bootlegger must ride a limousine. The gentlemen could see how it was. There fore, he offered to see the young ladies home in his car. He did. Intellectual Chic THREE lovely ladies, lunching at Huylers, were discussing "The Well of Loneliness." "A distressing book, but beautifully written. Radcliffe-Hall is truly a styl ist," said one of the women. "Oh!" protested the second, "you mustn't let anyone hear you say 'beau tifully written.' They will think you are one of the vulgarians who read the book looking for evil. You must talk of the psychology of the story." "And do you think it quite safe to say Miss Hall is a stylist?" asked the third. "After all, she is still a new writer." Financial Note COLLECTORS of coins, whether from an interest in numismatics or novelty, are showing moneys of the Irish Free State as the latest things in pocket pieces. Irish coins show the traditional harp on one face and animals of the island on the other. Wisely, they retain the THWARTED GENIUS— Paul, modeled by a distant relative to Chopin to took like the composer, does his stint in a vulgarly swank boulevard place. English coinage values in pounds, shil lings and pence. The half-pence piece displays the pig; the penny, the hen; thrippence, the hare; sixpence, the dog; the shil ling, the bull; two shillings, the sal mon; and the two shilling sixpence piece, the Irish horse. The figures, beautifully done, are ready indices of value. The face of the coin displays in Gaelic type the words "Saorstat Eireann," Irish Free State. Your banker should be able to sup ply you with the complete series. Coo-coo! PEOPLE who know Chief Engi neers, you disten to yarns like this: A prominent business man, radio fan and whatnot had tuned in what seemed by its faintness to be at least an Australian station. He had his head as nearly as possible inside the loud speaker, avidly listening for the station announcement. It came, but too faint to be heard; then the set which had been out of adjustment snapped THE GIBSON C a bygone age, El demure and gentl an establishment not on Prairie A^ THE CHICAGOAN 21 S/ho Live in Glass Houses Models IBA 31 RL— Relic of izabeth lends a e refinement to near but, alas, 'enue. IN A GILDED CAGE— Born to the links and the bounding tennis court, Helene pines in sables' and sapphires by day and is walled away behind bronze bars after 9 p. m. back into normal and he had blasted into his ear, "coo-coo! you're a member!" Obituary THE little white mouse who lived in the model log cabin on the fifth floor of the county building, which the county building reporters have fed for weeks upon matzos, water and apple to keep the scurvy away, with now ana1 then a touch of gin against the flu, has died. The reporters fear some janitor permitted the mouse a bit of decayed apple. Shades Are Trumfi WHETHER or not it comes within the province of this de partment, here is a bridge problem that has our friends burning the midnight candle at both ends. Really an apology is in order for the North- South-East- West thing, but that is, after all, the simplest way. So: South has three deuces: Diamonds, Hearts and Spades. MADONNA MODERNE— When Damya Stofonich, sculptor, saw the American game of football, he feminized (he would) a passing halfback. Sophia car ries on in a jewelry window West has the Jack and Ten of Dia monds and the Ace of Clubs. North (the dummy) has the Ace and Three of Diamonds and the Deuce of Clubs. East has the King and Queen of Diamonds and the Ace of Hearts. You are South. It is your play. Spades are trump. Take all three tricks. It can be done, of course. If it takes too long, we'll explain it. Contact A YOUNG executive, burbling over with the glee only a young execu tive can feel at Miami Beach, closed a small contract on that languorous riviera. He wired subsequent instruc tions to his firm in Chicago by night letter and added, gratuitously, details of the surf, descriptions of golf and golf courses, a paragraph on the sun, words on balm and breezes. He closed : "EVERYTHING FINE." He received confirmation, straight telegram, collect. A two page mes sage beginning "instructions OKEH." Followed a recital of illness, calamity, losses, and vexations. Also, a detailed report of current beach and golfing temperatures and a paragraph on zero weather. The collect wire ended, with nice regard for Western Union sensi tivity; "everything including busi ness GONE TO LOWER REGIONS STOP WISH YOU WERE THERE." THE bootleg business is not what it has been these last few weeks. In deed, our friend Eddie, ornament to the profession, discloses that the Chi cago liquor market is decidedly bearish. However, there is — or was — a stimu lating reaction in out-of-town trade, tiding the industry over a seasonal de pression. "You see," explained Eddie, "we really didn't mind a light week or so. In fact, a lot of the big boys weren't even in town. They were down-state cleaning up." "Cleaning up?" — we raised an inno cent eyebrow. "Sure," said Eddie. "Cleaning up at the Inaugural." Subzero Chivalry FIVE girls who live at the De Witt Hotel, Carol Rowland among them, want to send a testimonial for chivalry to the unknown driver of a milk wagon. During the blizzardy days of last week the gale swept down Pearson Street, across the vacant lots, at such a rate that young women coming from the De Witt could make no progress against the driving snow. This milk wagon driver deserted his route and rescued each girl in turn, taking her into his wagon and urging his plodding horse against the gale, until the girls were safely set down at Michigan Ave nue. And the blushing milk driver would not give his name to any of the girls he rescued. Drammer TSK! TSK! More of them. We must be getting about; two of these are new to us. "One word from you and I'll put ya behind prison bars!" "Come away from all this tinsel, Pansy; let me show you how to live." (The accent is on the "me" of course.) "So! 'Tis you, Jack Dalton!" "Shoot, Zeke, or hand the piece to yer Pappie." "My body belongs to you, massa, but my soul belongs to One who knows how to take care of it." "Ya c'n sell the whole farm, Hiram, but ya caint sell the little knoll thar whar my Nellie's buried." 20 THE CHICAGOAN THE CHICAGOAN 21 "is a character in the book, that's all. A character, you see, in the book. And I dedicate the book to him." "Oh, yeh?" "Certainly" said Mr. Meeker, "Didn't you read the book?" The answer delivered into a dead telephone is happily unrecorded. The Raskob Avocation THE automobile show brings to the surface of memory an incident of last year's exhibit. Harold Patterson gave a large and successful party one night at the Samovar. John J. Raskob was a guest. Late in the evening Mr. Raskob, with a happy smile, crossed the dance floor and took the orchestra leader's violin from his hands. Then Mr. Raskob, who was still with Gen eral Motors and had not yet identified himself with Mr. Smith, walked about the floor playing pretty tunes. He got a good hand. Mr. Raskob is an excel lent fiddler. The Good Vintner THE party had been going a long time. According to an enthusi astic poll of male celebrants, it was getting better as it went along. There was, however, a distressing minority report adopted in silent caucus — a re port sponsored by four young ladies who favored immediate adjournment sine die. And this minority resolution, though voted down by the strong ice box bloc, threatened secession. Matters had reached a deadlock. Se cession involved the withdrawal of four male escorts from a very convivial meets ing, and to this escorts demurred. The free withdrawal of four young ladies at an early hour in the morning had its unchivalrous side, also. Male die- hards paused in thought. On one hand, there was principle and the duty of providing an adequate male escort. On the other there was party. It seemed that party must give way be fore principle — a mournful state of af fairs. Then John, the vinter, interposed. John had joined the party late. His first delivery having been consumed, John had rushed out two additional gallons of his excellent wine. He paused to grow warm; he stayed to grow merry. Very blandly he offered a solution. He, too, must leave the party. Busi ness, after all, was business. Even a The Very Elegant People Who Live in Glass Houses Window Models By GABA POOR LITTLE RICH GIRL— Before she was sold down the river to Massa Moe Taskbaum, Eloise was intended for the finest frocks. Now she does the $5.75's for South State Street. bootlegger must ride a limousine. The gentlemen could see how it was. There fore, he offered to see the young ladies home in his car. He did. Intellectual Chic THREE lovely ladies, lunching at Huylers, were discussing "The Well of Loneliness." "A distressing book, but beautifully written. Radcliffe-Hall is truly a styl ist," said one of the women. "Oh!" protested the second, "you mustn't let anyone hear you say 'beau tifully written.' They will think you are one of the vulgarians who read the book looking for evil. You must talk of the psychology of the story." "And do you think it quite safe to say Miss Hall is a stylist?" asked the third. "After all, she is still a new writer." Financial Note COLLECTORS of coins, whether from an interest in numismatics or novelty, are showing moneys of the Irish Free State as the latest things in pocket pieces. Irish coins show the traditional harp on one face and animals of the island on the other. Wisely, they retain the THWARTED GENIUS— Paul, modeled by a distant relative to Chopin to took like the composer, does his stint in a vulgarly swank boulevard place. English coinage values in pounds, shil lings and pence. The half-pence piece displays the pig; the penny, the hen; thrippence, the hare; sixpence, the dog; the shil ling, the bull; two shillings, the sal mon; and the two shilling sixpence piece, the Irish horse. The figures, beautifully done, are ready indices of value. The face of the coin displays in Gaelic type the words "Saorstat Eireann," Irish Free State. Your banker should be able to sup ply you with the complete series. Coo-coo! PEOPLE who know Chief Engi neers, you disten to yarns like this: A prominent business man, radio fan and whatnot had tuned in what seemed by its faintness to be at least an Australian station. He had his head as nearly as possible inside the loud speaker, avidly listening for the station announcement. It came, but too faint to be heard; then the set which had been out of adjustment snapped THE GIBSON GIRL— Relic of a bygone age, Elizabeth lends a demure and gentle refinement to an establishment near but, alas, not on Prairie Avenue. IN A GILDED CAGE— Born to the links and the bounding tennis court, Helene pines in sables' and sapphires by day and is walled away behind bronze bars after 9 p. m. back into normal and he had blasted into his ear, "coo-coo! you're a member!" Obituary THE little white mouse who lived in the model log cabin on the fifth floor of the county building, which the county building reporters have fed for weeks upon matzos, water and apple to keep the scurvy away, with now ana1 then a touch of gin against the flu, has died. The reporters fear some janitor permitted the mouse a bit of decayed apple. Shades Are Trumfi WHETHER or not it comes within the province of this de partment, here is a bridge problem that has our friends burning the midnight candle at both ends. Really an apology is in order for the North- South-East- West thing, but that is, after all, the simplest way. So: South has three deuces: Diamonds, Hearts and Spades. MADONNA MODERNE— When Damya Stofonich, sculptor, saw the American game of football, he feminized (he would) a passing halfback. Sophia car ries on in a jewelry window West has the Jack and Ten of Dia monds and the Ace of Clubs. North (the dummy) has the Ace and Three of Diamonds and the Deuce of Clubs. East has the King and Queen of Diamonds and the Ace of Hearts. You are South. It is your play. Spades are trump. Take all three tricks. It can be done, of course. If it takes too long, we'll explain it. Contact A YOUNG executive, burbling over with the glee only a young execu tive can feel at Miami Beach, closed a small contract on that languorous riviera. He wired subsequent instruc tions to his firm in Chicago by night letter and added, gratuitously, details of the surf, descriptions of golf and golf courses, a paragraph on the sun, words on balm and breezes. He closed : "everything fine." He received confirmation, straight telegram, collect. A two page mes sage beginning "instructions OKEH." Followed a recital of illness, calamity, losses, and vexations. Also, a detailed report of current beach and golfing temperatures and a paragraph on zero weather. The collect wire ended, with nice regard for Western Union sensi tivity; "everything including busi ness GONE TO LOWER REGIONS STOP WISH YOU WERE THERE." THE bootleg business is not what it has been these last few weeks. In deed, our friend Eddie, ornament to the profession, discloses that the Chi cago liquor market is decidedly bearish. However, there is — or was — a stimu lating reaction in out-of-town trade, tiding the industry over a seasonal de pression. "You see," explained Eddie, "we really didn't mind a light week or so. In fact, a lot of the big boys weren't even in town. They were down-state cleaning up." "Cleaning up?" — we raised an inno cent eyebrow. "Sure," said Eddie. "Cleaning up at the Inaugural." Subzero Chivalry FIVE girls who live at the De Witt Hotel, Carol Rowland among them, want to send a testimonial for chivalry to the unknown driver of a milk wagon. During the blizzardy days of last week the gale swept down Pearson Street, across the vacant lots, at such a rate that young women coming from the De Witt could make no progress against the driving snow. This milk wagon driver deserted his route and rescued each girl in turn, taking her into his wagon and urging his plodding horse against the gale, until the girls were safely set down at Michigan Ave nue. And the blushing milk driver would not give his name to any of the girls he rescued. Drammer TSK! TSK! More of them. We must be getting about; two of these are new to us. "One word from you and I'll put ya behind prison bars!" "Come away from all this tinsel, Pansy; let me show you how to live." (The accent is on the "me" of course.) "So! 'Tis you, Jack Dalton!" "Shoot, Zeke, or hand the piece to yer Pappie." "My body belongs to you, massa, but my soul belongs to One who knows how to take care of it." "Ya c'n sell the whole farm, Hiram, but ya caint sell the little knoll thar whar my Nellie's buried." 22 THE CHICAGOAN Ttg/fateen^ Above (Oh, immeasurably, Gentlemen, immeasurably!) Nat Karson depicts Marilyn Miller and Jack Donahue, now teaming at the Illinois, in "Rosalie" — a show, stately, Ziegfeldian and good clean fun. And, below, Mae West as "Diamond Lil," who is Madame, not a lady, in the play by that name, and is, to the knowing theatre-goer, fust good fun. THE CHICAGOAN 23 The STAG E The Renaissance of Shakespeare By CHARLES COLLINS IT is bewildering to wade knee- deep, all of a sud den, in the dramas of Shakespeare. It is like riding H. G. Wells' Time-Ma chine back into his tory. Back into the old learning, the old poetry, the old dreams. A sharp, clean escape from the bawds, bootleg gers and blague of the contemporary theater. The transition is too violent. Freed from the vocabulary of the gut ter, from the wise-crack, the smut-joke, and the Freudian giggle, one gropes for words. Adrift in the classics, one fum bles for a new "line." . . . "Macbeth," staged ceremonially by the star-worshipping Mr. Tyler at the Auditorium, is an adventure in the the ories and designs of Gordon Craig, an early secessionist from literal scenery. It is Shakespeare in the term of mod ernism; therefore a novelty. I found it impressive without being thrilling. Its environment, no doubt, is respon sible for its lack of dynamic power. Any play, even as burly a melodrama as "Macbeth," is inevitably dwarfed in that Mammoth Cave of pageantry called the Auditorium. The simplifications of the Craig de signs, arranged to frame the play in a penumbra of its own tragic and su pernatural moods, occasionally have the effect of the older and more cumber some methods of Shakespearean staging — that is, they thwart the thrust and drive of the action. For Craig's tech nique appears to be that which has recently had the formidable label of "constructivism" wished upon it: — he erects platforms, flights of stairs, and eminences upon which the characters stand and declaim with a minimum of movement. The climbing, perching and posing which these massed poly gons invite encourage the players in a retarded pace of dialogue; and thus "Macbeth," which should march at a brisk military pace, becomes solemnly slow. But Craig's geometry is admir able for some of the scenes, especially the sleep-walking episode, which con tains the most effective shudder of the performance. Putting analysis aside, however, this is a memorable interpretation of one of the greatest tragedies in English, high in beauty and rich in dignity. It is the finest production of Mr. Tyler's long and notable career. The three stars prove themselves to be eminent Shakespeareans. Lynn Harding is everything that a Macbeth should be, externally and in voice. There is a certain hollowness to be detected, how ever, in the core of the blood-letting thane. Although people are saying that Florence Reed is reminiscent of "The Shanghai Gesture," I rate her as the best Lady Macbeth of my play-going. As Macduff, William Farnum strikes fire in the grand manner of poetic trag edy; the house rises to him as he la ments the butchery of all his "pretty chickens and their dam." An Aristocratic Shylock THERE have been shaggy Shylocks, wolfish Shylocks, patriarchal Shy- locks, all kinds of Shylocks, each rec ognizable as the Jew that Shakespeare drew except in one particular. There has never been, until George Arliss assumed the gaberdine and badge of sufferance, a financier Shylock. And that, more than anything else, was what Shylock was. A moneylender; in the primitive economics of his time, a banker. A man at home on the com mercial exchange of Venice, where merchants were princes and where business was an affair of dignity. So we find Mr. Arliss' Shylock, now at the Studebaker, a figure not out of place in the ornate Venetian world, richly if austerely dressed; with that quiet sense of power that money gives; a man proud of his sober house, his lovely daughter, his bulging money bags. So let me not hear any New Yorkish gabble to the effect that this is not Shylock, but merely Arliss in disguise. Here there may not be much of the burning heart of Shylock, but there is all of his cunning brain and his high Judaean spirit. This is as real a Shy lock as I have ever seen. The fact that Mr. Arliss isn't seven feet tall and hasn't the physical power of a football fullback or a camp-meeting evangelist is a point in his favor, for mediaeval Ghettoes did not breed giants. Mr. Arliss has a genius for clarity. His characterizations have the firm, sharp line of etchings; his reading is exquisitely intelligent; and every word of dialogue falls from his lips like new- minted coin, fresh and precise of mean ing. This Shylock confirms me in the belief that Mr. Arliss is one of the finest minds of the contemporary stage, one of the best examples of the actor as a reasoning animal. The production of "The Merchant of Venice" has the subdued elegance, the modest glamour of Winthrop Ames' touch as impresario. It shrinks from Elizabethan turbulence and garishness, and seeks, rather, to evoke a patrician charm. It is carefully studied; there are new touches of "business"; there are new treatments of scene and back ground. And in Frieda Inescourt, one finds a New Woman Portia — direct, boyish and keen. She is the prettiest of recent Portias, and although stronger in impertinence than in poetry, she is altogether captivating. Ah, There, Mae! AT last, in the fullness of time, the omens were verified and the por tents came true. Out of the steaming cauldron of American sex-life, around which the entire population has been doing witch-dances and performing voo doo rites ever since the Armistice, a grotesque image of pseudo-carnality emerged, as uncanny as ectoplasm, as gaudy and lubricious as the amorous dreams of an Everleigh Sister. It was the star-spangled goddess of the lingam and the yoni; the primordial Hot Mamma; Venus Americana, the Shim my-Shaker, the Sex-Appealer, the Maker of Whoopee. It was Mae West. For Mae West in "Diamond Lil," now at the handsome Apollo which was recently the shabby Olympic, is more than a flamboyant actress in a grotesque show — she is a symbol. She is of sociologic importance. She is the port toward which we have been drift- 24 THE CHICAGOAN 7 have a complaint — " 'Drug counter to your left, Sir." ing; she is the consummation of our national prurience, the abyss of sexly vulgarity into which we have been slithering. More than a decade ago the play-writing Hattons, who helped to start the ball rolling, announced as their slogan and their alibi: "Sex is funny." They must have foreseen Mae West. "Diamond Lil" is a play of the palmy days of the Police Gazette period, glori fying the prowess of a buxom Bowery bawd. It is a florid wallow in the atmosphere of the stews. Because of its vigorous vulgarity, its naive sexli- ness, and its unconscious humor, it is quite a show. Miss West acts the title role like a brass-band playing, "Hail, the Conquering Harlot Comes!" In that strain she is extremely effective. Operetta of Alt Wien "MUSIC IN MAY'" freshly i 1 staged at the Great North ern, is a successor to "Blossom Time" and "The Student Prince." It deals with Alt Wien in the early nineteenth century, and tells a pleasing story with copious melody. The score is rich with tunes that have the true Viennese flavor; the humor is less forced than usual; and the principals are gifted in song. I am especially in favor of Gladys Baxter, both for her rich voice and her patrician manner. West Pointers on Parade * t T\ OSALIE," at the Illinois, is a I\ glorified musical comedy spon sored by Papa Ziegfeld. It is sleek, sumptuous and gay, and its chief enter tainers are Marilyn Miller, the under graduates' delight, and Jack Donahue, the prince homely of hoofers. These two are a show in themselves; plus the Ziegfeld garnishings, they become a sybaritic revel. Miss Miller is singing better than before, and Mr. Donahue's dancing now merely supplements his humor. It is diverting to note that the plot is based on an incident of the tour of Princess Ileana of Roumania, with her mamma, the queen. Ileana gazed ap provingly upon a West Point cadet, and invited him to luncheon; and so the United States Military Academy, where earnest young men prepare to defend the nation, becomes the play ground of a Broadway libretto, with horse-laughs all over the place. Ur- ban's scene-painting does full justice to the cloisters of our military priesthood. Fat as Falstaff ANEW comedian of the go-as-you- please musical shows looms up in "Luckee Girl," at the Majestic. Looms is the word, for he is a mountainous mass of quivering flesh, a veritable Fal staff. His name, appropriately, is Billy House. Drafted from the vaudeville programs, and now engaged in his first wrestling match with a full-fledged plot, Mr. House may be hailed as a discov ery. Mort H. Singer of the Orpheum Circuit was his Columbus, and his robust comic style recalls the highly popular musical comedies that Mr. Singer used to stage, years ago, when Chicago was a "producing center." There is also, in "Luckee Girl," a promising young soubrette named Doris Vinton, whose rise seems certain. And a troop of dancing girls named the Kel- leys who form one of the best sorori ties in the ballet-business. A heavily featured song, "Make Whoopee," will doubtless be jazzed deliriously in the night-clubs, but to me it is nothing but frenzied noise. The show itself was adapted from the French, and it proves that American managers are wise in importing most of their stuff from Ger many. Touche THE following conversation we re create from that overheard in a public carrier: "Well, I registered to vote. Now I got to serve jury." "Mmmmm, too bad." "Yeh, ain't got no excuse neither. I ain't in business no more." "No?" "No. I used to work, an' of course that was an excuse. I didn't never have to serve." "That so? What did you do?" "Oh, up to a couple years ago I was a journalist — an editor, in fact." The gentleman snared for jury serv ice retired, he pointed out; he made a lot of money and retired. Cheerio! THE CHICAGOAN 25 Chicago Clubs; An Inquiry VIII.— The Racquet Club AT the southeast corner of Dearborn . and Schiller Streets stands the Racquet Club. When I asked its ar chitect, Andrew Rebori, what style of architecture it represented, he replied, "You can call it Liberated Georgian," by which he undoubtedly implied that the style is Georgian, adapted to the athletic requirements for which the building is primarily intended. Hence the Schiller Street facade presents a rather fortress-like appearance, with few and small windows. This is made necessary in order to accommodate the Court Tennis court, one of the very few such courts existing in the United States. Whether it be in Chicago, New York, Philadelphia, Boston, St. Louis, or any other city boasting of a Racquet Club, there is a subtle distinction at tached to its membership which implies an unusual combination of social pres tige and athletic interests, and conse quently there will be found in the membership lists of Racquet Clubs the creme de la creme, as it were, of the city's Jeunesse doree. Chicago's Racquet Club is no exception to this distinction, and its membership list discloses names of leaders in the younger married set, eligible bachelors and a sprinkling of bald and gray heads who still cling to the illusion that they are as young and active as they were twenty odd years ago (and many of them are, surpris ingly so). Nor are the ladies entirely neglected, for our premiere social decorator, Mrs. John Alden Carpenter, has fitted up a By ARTHUR BISSELL ladies department which is exquisitely beautiful, containing its own kitchen equipment and showers. The wives and daughters of members enjoy certain restricted athletic privileges, and the charming rooms are the scene of many gay luncheon parties. Indeed, the inner and outer man are taken care of at the Racquet Club in a way that few clubs can equal. The service is the last word in efficiency. Every want of the male is anticipated — its beautiful swimming pool, its up- to-the-minute showers and turkish baths, and all athletic appurtenances, including squash and racquet courts, Court Tennis courts, and bowling alleys, are perfect in their equipment and con struction. The cuisine is on a par with the equipment and service — no better food is to be had in Chicago or else where. An incident will show the quality of service rendered: A mem ber, noted for his epicurean proclivities, called one day for a certain rare brand of cheese. To the horror and conster nation of the steward, it was not in the club — but resourcefulness came to the rescue. Never admitting that the rare cheese was not available, the stew ard quietly 'phoned a prominent club purveyor and instructed that a mes senger be sent post-haste in a taxi with the rare brand of cheese. By the time the salad was served the cheese was there. I believe that might be called service. IN all its appointments the club is a model of quiet elegance and good taste. It contains a really magnificent lounge, beautifully paneled in walnut; a card room, decorated in a more mod ern manner; an attractive and stately dining room, and convenient locker and dressing rooms, all embellished with one of the finest collections of sporting prints in existence, loaned by its presi dent, Mr. Charles B. Pike, who has collected them from all parts of the world. The club also maintains twenty-eight bedrooms, each with bath, largely for the benefit of its non-resident members, and it operates a de luxe taxi service, together with a theatre and railroad ticket bureau. From that authority on clubs and greatest living house committee chair man, Mr. Howard F. Gillette, I have gleaned some interesting data concern ing the formation of the club. It seems that as far back as 1908 or 1909, Har- 26 THE CHICAGOAN old McCormick, Mr. Gillette, and a number of other racquet and squash enthusiasts discussed the advisability of founding a racquet club on the Near North Side; but the directors of the Uni versity Club, then contemplating their new building, proposed to equip it with squash and racquet courts and a swim ming pool, and the project was post poned. For some time the University Club courts answered requirements, but the rapidly growing interest in these sports, coupled with the fact that Chi cago could not boast of a Court Tennis court, finally revived the project, and in the year of 1922 the club was for mally organized. THE Racquet Club, besides minis tering to the comforts of the inner and outer man in the way of athletics, food, and all the little niceties that go to make perfect club service, offers other benefits to its members. Among the interesting developments of its many activities have been the Tuesday Club Nights. Originally boxing and wrestling exhibitions, they have grad ually taken on a more intellectual tinge, and such noted speakers as Commander Byrd, Von Luckner, the German sea rover, MacMillan, Martin Johnson, Zinova Pechkoff, officer of the famous French Foreign Legion, and other dis tinguished travelers and explorers have entertained the members with thrilling accounts of their adventures. Every year, during the children's holidays, the club celebrates a Father and Son Night for members' sons over 1 5 years of age. But lest readers of The Chicagoan should gain the impression that the Racquet Club is nothing more or less than a luxurious bed of ease, and that athletics are a lesser activity of the club, it may be well to mention some of the athletic features which really gave the club its cause for being. Its membership contains some distinguished exponents of racquet and squash, as well as Court Tennis. Harold Mc Cormick was for several years Amer ica's amateur champion racquet player. Robert Gardner and Howard Linn won the United States Amateur Cham pionship in racquet doubles in 1926. George Huband won the American Court Tennis championship in 1927. This year the club staged the United States Amateur Racquet Doubles Championship • and Charles Williams won the world's professional champion ship in Racquets from Jock Sauter on February second. Court Tennis has been aptly de scribed as the "game of kings, and the king of games." It dates from the Fifteenth Century. To quote from "A History of Tennis," by E. B. Noel and J. O. M. Clark, published by the Ox ford University Press, "Tennis in antiquity, in dignity, in the skill re quired for its mastery, in its inex haustible repertoire and variety of strokes, in the qualities, both mental and physical, that it demands, holds a place that is unique." Court Tennis demands a space, lengthwise, of 108 ft. 6 in., with a width of 38 ft. 6 in., the height of the ceiling ranging from 18 to 23 ft. with numerous projections and sloping roofs which it is impossible to describe in detail in this article. The rules and scoring in Court Tennis are a study in themselves, and the game is played with the aid of several mark ers and considerable paraphernalia. On account of its complicated con struction and the large space de manded, there are available but few Court Tennis courts in the United States, the more important ones being those contained in the Boston, New York, and Philadelphia Racquet Clubs, and the beautiful private court on Mr. Payne Whitney's Long Island estate. I refer anyone interested in studying this ancient and honorable game to the "History of Tennis," above mentioned, and also to a little manual on Court Tennis, Racquets, and Squash, written by Fred Christopher Tompkins, in structor in the Philadelphia Racquet Club. Among the Racquet Club leading Court Tennis players may be men tioned Leander J. McCormick, Lucien E. Williams, Allister H. McCormick, H. R. Gross, Barrett Wendell and Charles B. Pike. THE club also boasts of model bowl ing alleys, and this constitutes one of the most popular diversions. Among the • leading bowlers are Kenneth B. Carpenter, Huntington B. Henry, M. Paul Noyes, W. Waller, Jr., Dr. Eugene Talbot, Oscar Johnson, and J. O. Watkins. The club also has its flourishing shooting contingent, the team consisting of George Henneberry, Huntington B. Henry, Walter Pea cock, John B. Drake, Sr., and Edward Swift, Jr. Some of the leaders in Squash and Racquet are Henry Hooper, Jr., Thomas H. Fischer, Edward W. Ellis, Henry T. Stanton, Lucien E. Williams, Laurance K. Calla han, A. C. Dixon, Wayne Chatfield- Taylor, Albert De W. Erskine, H. M. Nacey, and O. E. Van Alyea; so it will be seen that the Chicago Racquet Club is not merely a dilettante club given over to the pleasures of life, but is an active, virile organization which, in a high class way, stimulates the gen eral athletic enthusiasm of the city. Founded only six years ago, the club's membership, consisting of 500 regular and 75 life members, is full, and an imposing waiting list is on file. Charles B. Pike, who might be termed the father of the club, has served as its efficient president since the club opened its doors in 1923. Officers and directors include such well known names as Homer L. Dixon, Earle-H. Reynolds, William H. Mitchell, Leander J. Mc Cormick, Paul E. Gardner, Charles F. Glore, Howard Linn, Joseph T. Ryer- son and Howard F. Gillette. "Simchak" Is Correct MS. SZYMCZAK, clerk of the ? superior court, has issued cards bearing, beneath his name and in par entheses, the pronunciation, "Simchak." He explains that his name came down to him unsullied from ancestors for whom he has nothing but praise and he has no notion of changing it for this or any other generation of simpli fied spellers. Walska Critique MR. ROBERT POLLAK, The Chicagoan : As the only truly honest and unprejudiced critic in Chi cago, allow me to salute you, with my best Sunday go-to-meeting, gold em broidered hat in hand. I mention this especial hat to show you how much honor I wish to do you. I was at the Walska "concert," and your critique struck me just right. I sat beside a dear soul (masculine) who groaned constantly and moaned at every vocal jab to his ear drums, "Oh! My God!!" Was that you, by any chance? I left almost directly — did you notice me — in chincilla coat and the aforesaid gold embroidered hat? Such men as Devries, Gunn, etc., should be shot for prostituting (no less) their position, by writing the praise and blatherdash and blah! blah! blah! which they did. Thanks, for reviving a fainting faith in critics. — B. F. Freeman, 1369 Hyde Park Blvd., Chicago. THE CHICAGOAN 27 CHICAGOAN/ THERE is something about a great spectacle, or a pageant, or drama of any kind that seems to catch and hold the enthusiasm of the Irish. Who are our greatest patrons of the circus, the drama, the movies? Who are the first to join up in times of na tional or international combat? Who stages the bull fights in Mexico and the Argentine and the prize-fights in Lon don, New York and Chicago? Who gave us our John McGraws, our Con nie Macks, to say nothing of the Knute Rocknes among us? Who, but the Irish? Monsieur Nero, whose name has long stood well to the forefront in any dis cussion having to do with the circus, was an Irishman. His family name was Neary and there are millions of his progeny in many parts of the world. Mr. W. Shakespeare, long claimed by the English, was, in truth, an Irishman. Nobody but an Irishman, for instance, would have thought to put into Ham let's mouth such swear words as "By Saint Patrick," and nobody but a South-of-Ireland Irishman could have penned the immortal lines of Wolsey touching upon the spiritual consolation that follows in the wake of "a humble and contrite" confession. You read a great deal nowadays about the Zukors, the Foxes, the Gold- wyns and the Al Jolsons of the cinema art and little, perhaps, of the Jeff Mc Carthys, the Sheehans, the Kennedys, the Dwans and the Meighans. This is because the Irish are a very modest people who shun the public gaze and go in more for the art of the enter prise than for the limelight and the shekels. So it is, too, with this busi ness of war. The only time you get an opportunity to mark off the Irish names in a roll-call of battle is when the list of the casualties comes in and the poor, modest heroes are helpless to protest the publicity. THE Marquis of Queensbury was an Irish sportsman who evolved the most perfect set of rules of fistic procedure that was ever bit upon and he did it only after generations of Irish had explored every possible avenue of approach to the solar-plexus. The thing that makes possible the national sport of the Spaniards, as well as that Father Quille By SHAN VAN VOCHT of our boisterous brethren to the south, is the product of the looms of Belfast. Imagine what a flop would follow were the matador to attempt to open nego tiations with the bull without the aid of that red-flannel Irish petticoat. And, as for the McGraws — the Irish spell it McGrath — and the McGillicudys and the Rocknes, it needs but to be men tioned here that there is hardly a town in Ireland that has not its Kellys, Col linses, Bolands, Quinns, Ruths, Flana gans, Hornsbys, Heilmans, Murphys and Delaneys. It is this inherent love of participa tion in great spectacles, immortal com bat and public demonstrations of Irish genius that has made the race a con spicuous one, much more touted in the public prints than the Czecho-Slovaks, for instance, or the Jugo-Slavs. The swarthy gentleman in the red turban and the very-much-soiled white panta loons, who rides the lead-elephant in the Monster Parade with which the per formance gets under way, only seems to be a son of the desert. The truth is that his name is O'Donnell — Francis Aloysius O'Donnell — and bis ancestors came from Connaught. And this same lad, after a lifetime spent in knocking about the country with hardly more than a week's stay in any one town, will insure, with his dying wish, that his mortal remains be shipped back to his sister Katie's home in South Boston, or to his brother Jimmie's place in Rogers Park, for decent Christian bur ial. And what a funeral! There will be more carriages than Harding had at Marion after two and a half transcon tinental tours had worked up public interest to fever heat. But Harding, alas, was not of the race. All of which is by way of saying that the Irish love pageantry. And beware of that particular species of the breed for which the circus, or the prize- ring, holds no attraction. Such a one will probably end up as a banker, or a pawn-broker, and leave his fortune after him to endow a dormitory at Princeton to the memory of his fourth wife. The good Irish, the Irish that are justly entitled to be called "the salt of the earth," go in for the dramatic and the spectacular. It is the pageantry of things which attracts them. HICH leads us to a discussion of Monsignor Centennial J. Quille. It is utterly impossible to un derstand this rare and curious genius unless you know something of the tra dition which lies back of him. You have to know the Irish, and their drama, and their love for the pagean try of things, before you may approach to an understanding of Quille. Fix in your mind the fundamental theory that the truly dramatic is but a succession of contrasts, strangely mixed and often times almost incredible, and you begin to see the light. Over on the West Side, two score years back, a frail little boy, inclined rather to pore over serious books than to play, finds himself ostracized by the neighbor's children. Forthwith he pro ceeds to adjust matters. He learns to fight with his fists, not box, mind you, but fight; at eighteen years he is rated to be the best amateur lightweight in the Middle West, able and willing to stand toe to toe with Joe Gans and Bat Nelson. At about this same time, our national game of baseball begins to attract his youthful attention, where upon he tries his hand at it. He starts out as a catcher, but because his team, after a season of tragic defeats at the 28 THE CHICAGOAN hands of a gang from the neighborhood of La Salle and Division Streets, is noted to be weak in its pitching staff, Quille becomes a slab artist. For three years, as a pitcher, he stands 'em all on their heads, and once, under the persuasive influence of one Jeff Dock- erty, a scout for the Boston Braves, he came near to affixing his signature to a contract to play major league base ball in the city of his mother's birth. And then along came Chauncey 01- cott, then in the hey-day of his career. The star boxer and baseball pitcher of the West Side was called upon to sing for the great tenor, who was so favor ably impressed with what he heard that he sought to take the young man along with his troupe. The records in the case seem to indicate that once again Quille came near to signing a contract, but changed his mind and went in for the priesthood. Whereupon the box ing, and the ball playing, and even the singing, had to be put aside for more weightier subjects, and for a period of about eight years the West Side saw but little of the boy phenom. HIS first assignment as a priest was to old St. Mary's on Wabash Avenue. Within his parochial juris diction were a number of the then great hotels, the theatres, half-a-dozen of the more popular dance halls of that day, the railroad stations and numerous freight yards and the criminal courts. A more perfect stage setting for this particular kind of a young priest can hardly be imagined. And how he did sail into the job! Working behind the scenes in the hotels, in the wine-cellars, kitchens, bake-shops and such places, were hordes of the children of his faith, many of whom, because of the irregu lar hours they were forced to labor, had become careless in the practice of their religious duties; Quille ferreted these out, made friends with them all, brought them around to St. Mary's and swelled the congregation to enormous proportions. So, too, with the actors. It was before the days of the Jolsons, the Cantors, the Jessels, the Nazimo- vas and the Mae Wests. Margaret Anglin was in the ascendency then, with the Cohans, the Foys, the Dalys, the Kellys, the Ryans, the Mclntyres and the Heaths. All these, when they played the local houses, became Quille's parishioners and he made it his busi ness to see after them. In and about the railway terminals and freight yards he took on with the porters and policemen, trainmen and truck drivers, tramps and — thieves. All these he gathered into his fold, as best he could, arguing here and scolding there, and occasionally pleading with all the eloquence of his priestly soul. Not infrequently he found it necessary to demonstrate to certain of the re calcitrants that he belonged to the Church militant, whereupon a gang of hoboes newly arrived from St. Louie, or half-a-dozen inebriated teamsters, loud-mouthed and brandishing wicked hand-hooks, were let in for the surprise of their young lives. The youthful Levite, falling back on his earlier ex perience with Mistah Joe Gans, made the most of the opportunity and ended up by begging a bed and free medical attention for a group of sadly torn, messed-up bad-boys at Mercy Hospital. OUT of the dance halls came the perplexities that led to the courts. Young Father Quille was compelled in the line of his duty as he saw it to spend days on end in and about the criminal courts. The problem of the unthinking, careless and what used to be called wayward girl, stumped him. He was a man's man, just as he had been a boy's boy. The only girls he had ever known much about were his four sisters, and three of these had grown up to become nuns. What was to be done? I make bold to suggest that even to this day, and despite a life-time spent in the study of this riddle, the Mon- signor is still stumped. But his failure to find a remedy has not lessened his eagerness to carry on and to lend a helping hand. In Cook County there are, today, three residence clubs for young women called Rita Clubs, in any one of which any girl would be glad to take up her place. These clubs are not correctional institutions, or "girls' homes,'' or anything else that might suggest reformation or a reformatory. They are resident clubs for working girls whose homes are outside Chicago. A nominal charge is made for board and lodging, and the annual deficit, which runs well up into five figures, is paid out of a fund which Monsignor Quille raises each year by personal ap peals to his friends. MUCH water has gone over the mill since those early days at St. Mary's. Twenty years back Father Quille took over the responsibility for the Working Boys' Home. To this he has added a residence club for young men, the combined plants, together with the girls' clubs, representing an invest ment in excess of a million dollars. The money to pay for all this, as well as the cash to meet the annual deficits, has been gathered in by Father Quille chiefly by way of appeals through the mail. He is said to be the most per suasive letter-writer in all the land, just as he is conceded to be among the most convincing orators of his day. Some years back, when the letter writ ing seemed not to be as productive of results as the circumstances warranted, and with more than 500 boys and girls depending upon him for food, he took to the lecture platform. He journeyed all over the Middle West pleading for his charges and his success was little short of phenomenal. His institutions, it should be noted, receive no aid from any of the organized charitable funds of this city or state. Even with the Associated Catholic Charities of the archdiocese, the Monsignor plays a lone hand, because that's the kind of a Mon signor he is. In his work for the poor he makes no distinction of race, color or creed. He rarely asks questions, either, though he is a stern disciplinarian and, at times, a hard taskmaster. He is a practical printer, having learned the trade in or der to teach his boys the craft. He is a first-rate cobbler, too, and an auto mobile mechanic, having come upon these as part of the training for the boys. He writes well, talks better, and is an indefatigable reader. He is prob ably known personally to more people than any clergyman in the United States. And what a strange conglom eration these acquaintances are: actors, authors, playwrights, singers, dancers, acrobats, professional baseball players, prizefighters, college professors, bank ers, editors and reporters, clergymen of various and sundry affiliations, chemists and conductors, scientists and sociolog ists, society belles and scrubwomen. Because he has in him, developed to the nth degree, that Irish predisposition to the pageant and the dramatic, he has taken all these into his heart; he has dramatized them, each with a part to play, all to the end that each may serve the purpose of his priestly life. For, it should be noted and empha sized, because it is important, that above and beyond all else that he is, Mon signor Quille is the priest whose sole aim in life is to advance his priestly work. Everything else is incidental to THE CHICAGOAN 29 this one purpose. Of himself, he is hardly more than a pauper. Though he is a prelate of the Catholic Church, you would never learn that fact from him. Usually he writes himself down as "Father Quille, the Beggar." EVERYBODY hereabouts knows about his direction of the great Eucharistic Congress, which, by unani mous consent, is agreed to have been the most profoundly impressive relig ious demonstration ever set up any where. Monsignor Quille was the di recting genius who, under Cardinal Mundelein, organized that stirring demonstration and saw it through to the finish. For sheer artistry, dramatic intensity and colorful spectacle, com bined with deep religious fervor and enthusiasm, the palm goes to the Eu charistic Congress of Chicago. And it is significant that a Cardinal named Mundelein should select for this im portant task a priest named Quille. His Eminence knows all about this Irish genius for the dramatic. * [Note: "The Importance of Being Ernest — Byfield," an informal sketch by Romola Voynow with a caricature by Burton Browne, will be published in the next issue of The Chicagoan.] Tke ROVING REPORTER Croquet Equestrian By FRANCIS C. COUGHLIN COMING into the Chicago Riding Club arena, and coming in has tily because of a freezing wind off the lake, one is first conscious of a pervad ing, horsey warmth, an atmosphere as rural and quiet and easy-going as that of a barn lot. And next one is conscious of blended exclamatory voices, not shouts, but loud conversation, and a ragged cheer seem ingly up from the ground cut off abruptly by a single note from a gong. Then looking down into the ring from an encircling balcony, one sees six horsemen in gay silks crowding, pushing, larruping after a soft ball, and that is indoor polo. As games are vocalized, polo is a quiet diversion. Tonight when there are few spectators it is perhaps more quiet even than ordinary. Messrs. Corpening, Fitzpatrick and Calhoun, astride for the Chicago Riding Club, have caught themselves a trio of polo players from the North Shore Riders — and are taking it, so to speak, on the nose, from the North Shore gentlemen. This to the open glee of assembled grooms who admit theoretical allegiance to the Chicago Riding Club, but who rejoice to see the home team ruffled a bit, especially when this particular game is none too important. So grooms peer through a wire screen east of the tanbark and make free comment on play — comment ranging from mock groans and that peculiar, fading, de risory whistle which means "you lucky bum!" to husked exhortations in highly questionable taste admonishing their employers to ride in and hit the damn- damn ball for a change. AT which M. M. Corpening, Red Number 2, charges into a scrim mage and lets his stick loose in a vicious yellow arc ending on the ball. The pack is down the arena instantly and again in a thwacking, churning melee. Corpening's pony waltzes in deliber ately (other ponies gallop or shove, but this bay jiggles along at a kind of shift ing, bobbing prance) , his master poised for another cut. There it is! Another 30 THE CHICAGOAN How to see Europe the way you want to see it Wouldn't you like to have the new booklet, "The American Traveler in Europe", which tells how your trip can be made carefree and amazingly simple? It is the result of months of care ful study and preparation by trained men who know Europe from end to end. Its pages are brimful with valu able travel news and suggestions. It tells how you can exploreEurope following an expertly planned itiner ary, based on your own ideas. ALL the arrangements for the ENTIRE trip can be made long in advance- steamer tickets, hotels, seats on trains, etc., and aeroplanes if you wish. You leave when you please— go where you like— stay as long as you choose and return at your own con venience. The coupon sent to any American Express office or to the nearest address below places a copy in the mails for you. 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 Name. Address . American Express Travelers Cheques Always Protect Your Funds red markers. "Goal," says the referee and posts up briskly on a white horse. The gong rings once. The referee snares the ball with his pickup stick and brings it to the center line. Riders huddle toward each other, and when the sphere rolls under their horses' hoofs, play is resumed. Looking into the grand strategy of polo for a moment — looking into the grand strategy of any sport from a comfortable seat in the stands is a de lightful, Olympian kind of observation which pleasantly puffs up the observer to all manner of sweeping conclusions — looking into polo rewards the ob server with a conviction that it is too highly individual, too technical, too elaborately equipped to foster a pre ponderance of team play. Polo will remain a game for the individual horse man, with a modicum of team play despite earnest efforts to achieve it, and a dashing, slam-bang, hurly-burly sport whether on turf or tanbark. JUST now in the arena, the melee moves from mid-field along the side wall close in to the Red goal. Fitz- patrick fails to drive the ball out of danger; Calhoun misses it after a val iant dash. Then just before the goal, play slows up. The ball rolls idly under dancing hoofs and players shoul der and jostle, peering down to locate it. Frank Bering makes the find. Very deliberately he leans over his horse's shoulder and very thoroughly he drives a goal. Again the referee with his pick-up stick. The next goal is a surprise. A con fused huddle of man and horse in mid- field. Herbert Lorber stretches tall in his stirrups and drops a terrific swipe. The ball arcs out of the press, skids along the tan-bark turf and rolls beau tifully to goal. Cheers! Grooms whoop and whistle. Another start results in a long, evenly matched see-saw with neither goal desperately threatened. A team works the ball down field and a de fensive player slams it back — Corpen ing excels at this long hitting. Or a horseman comes galloping down behind a scared ball, raises his stick in menace and yells "Take it!" thus signaling a teammate to take up the lambasting while he rides off an obstreperous de fender. Like as not the teammate misses the sphere completely and hauls back at a gallop to retrieve his error; polo is too fast for perfect passing and hitting; the completed pass is an ex- ^PRING IS JOYOUS AT BROADMOOR OoLOR — sunshine— scen ery — sport — luxury — in Spring, more than ever, there is always "some thing to do" at The Broadmoor. Bright, new green on the plains and Rockies and (this is very important) on the thrill ing golf course. Invigorating swimming pool with all the acces sories; splendid motors and horses; music; danc ing; little theater; exclu sive shops; luxurious resting-places; delicious Parisian meals; gymna sium; game courts; zoo; greenhouses; everything! Fly out! A private free Broadmoor hangar and motor service at airport. 55?e BROADMOOR COLORADO SPRINGS HOME OF THE FAMOUS AfANJTOU SPARKLING WATERS Spring and sumrrier reservations now, here, or at: The Ritz, New York; 23, Haymarket, London; 11 Rue de Castiglione, Paris. TWE CHICAGOAN 31 ception, even if no opponent, swarms into a disputed area. PLAYERS bicker among themselves. They hook sticks, and scrape knees, and whale each other's ponies across the shins. Now and then they vocif erate over fouls, and like all athletes express a hearty disesteem of the ref eree's professional talents. But the referee is bland and insistent, the scorer impartial. Protest or no protest, fouls are calmly registered. Somebody makes a goal. A trickling, insidious! goal barely inside the marker. The North Shore boys protest and ride back to starting scrimmage still protesting. A second later and they are hard at polo, the protest forgotten. Another long tussle. One player is scraped from his mount when the ani mal edges too closely to the arena wall. He is up in an instant, still holding his reins. Herbert Lorber comes through with another cannon ball drive. Cheers! Pete Zisco, potentate of the polo room, smiles and swears with de lighted facility. A gong, and abruptly the first pe riod ends. The arena is suddenly very still. Ponies droop, and come off snort ing, the short snort of a labored horse; they have been silent during play. Grooms, expert and caustic commenta tors on the game a moment before, come forward with blankets and are instantly servants. Riders dismount stiffly, stretch their legs, stamp about, and select fresh ponies. A TRACTOR wheels nimbly through an unnoticed doorway and frolics mechanically with a drag. It is a very efficient tractor; it seems fully as intelligent as a horse. Indeed, watching highly trained polo ponies perform, one is left with no inordinate esteem for the horse's sagacity. He is willing, yes. Hard-working. Docile. Nimble. But, alas, none too well versed in the game. He follows the ball when his driver kicks him after it. But he shows neither choice nor discretion in the matter. Just as blandly as he follows a ball he will veer away from one, leaving his mas ter to wave a futile stick in mid-air and yell, "Take it!" A surprisingly brief respite and play ers remount for the next period. Fresh horses spank out to their positions. Grooms become critics again. The ref eree canters out with his pick-up stick. Spectators snuff cigarettes and lean over the balcony. A ball rolls out. Hearts Sophisticated glace and iizx to the contrary, notwithstanding — the pleasant game of hearts, -with its fine lace and frills, refuses to become old -fashioned. It's no dif ficult decision -whether to party at home or revel an restaurante, for your Panatrope 'with Radiola assures twin -source se lection—the best on the air, and the hest worth keeping. On this anni versary of the saintly Valentine let Brunswick bring you ballroom ballads, muted and soulful — or bacchanal revelry as blatant as the night before Lent. This fine instrument ever provides perfect repro duction of both broad cast artistry and pho nographic re-creations. Offered by E COMMONWEALTH EDISON £*\ LECTRICSHOP>3 73 W. Adams Street, Chicago <7ht CHICAGOAN 407 So. Dearborn Street Changing residence? The Chicagoan will go along — making its first fortnightly arrival three weeks after notice — if you will fill in the appended form. (Name). (New address) (Old address) (Date of change). 32 TI4E CHICAGOAN Suggesting for TONIGHT A dinner of super lative excellence in the Main Res taurant of the Brevoort — con venient to the principal thea ters. String quartette, with piano, in a program of such pleasing quality as to suit the high standards maintained in the Brevoort. In the Main Restaurant each eve ning, including Sundays. No cover U& i charge. A highly diversified and rr§ different program each evening. ENTRANCE DIRECT OR THROUGH LOBBY HI : * ' . S3&6& East of aSalleSt. 77™-. MU/ICAL NOTE/ The Penultimate Ofaera By ROBERT POLLAK T HE penulti- mate perform- ance of the season: at the Auditorium j featured La Gar' den in the second I hearing of Arthur] Honegger's "Ju" dith." The opera,' as every school-boy knows, is based on the grim story of the Hebrew gal who, single-handed, storms the camp of the Assyrians, makes whoopee with Holo- fernes, their king, and then neatly cuts his head ofF, returning it to her en thusiastic countrymen in a large pack age. The libretto, by Morax if we re call correctly, was constructed all trim and compact for the hand of the com poser. It reduces the scenes of the stern Apocryphal incident to an essen tial minimum. Staging and decor were both unusually effective, particularly in the first act and the second scene of the second. The music of "Judith," like so much of Honegger's production, strikes the listener as inordinately bleak and bare, dictated by the promptings of a sharp intellect but unwarmed by a certain passionate flux that can be discovered in the scores of even such revolution aries as Schonberg. Honegger's score suffers more sharply because of its jux taposition to a savage and barbaric tale that needs the hot hand of a composer like Ernest Bloch. "Judith" as a musical composition has, nevertheless, its spots. The queerly twisting plaint of the besieged citizens of Bethulia, moaning over horns in di vergent counterpoint, the strident revel of the Assyrian hosts in the tent of Holofernes, strike out of the work with the prominence of sincerity. The principal job of the opera be longs to Garden, who put a period to her season's activity with a grand flour ish. She sensed accurately the essence of the role. It is a tough job in what ever clime or country for a gentle woman to decapitate a man, no mat ter how worthy the cause. And her ultimate remorse, when she returns as a heroine to her city, is as convincing an etching of character as any in her generous gallery. What is more, she sang well and heartily, bringing into the throaty tones of the lower register a unique pathos that seemed strangely pertinent to the action. Requiem ON the same evening the Audito rium ceased to function as the home of the Civic Opera. Nice old ladies came to hear "Romeo and Juliet,1' bearing the lavender-scented programs of the late nineteenth century. The names of Sullivan and Adler, architec tural pioneers, and Adelina Patti, whose Juliet was heard clear and strong on the night the Auditorium first opened its doors, hovered in the un conscious of four thousand customers. A strikingly sentimental occasion. A Stock Concerto UNDOUBTEDLY stimulated by a brief absence from the podium, Herr Stock returned to Orchestra Hall with the Brahms Third. Our theory that he is happier in Brahms than any place else was rather markedly borne out by this reading. It had fire and glow and spirit, power and subtlety. The orchestra sounded glad to have its regular conductor back on the stand. Wallenstein, principal cellist, gave first hearing to Stock's new concerto. The work is sincere, carefully wrought and not without moments of genuine interest. But it fails to impress to any great extent, first, because of the over- refinement of the solo part, and sec ondly because of the profusion of inter rupted incidents that destroy the unity of the composition. Stock's malady as a composer has hit many a conductor before him. It would seem that the professional interpreter cannot isolate himself long enough from the works of other and greater men to develop his own idiom. And as a result the com positions of many conductors have suf fered from a derived complexity that saps the strength of the music. Wallenstein did a magnificent job with the concerto, meeting every re quirement of technique and ensemble. He ran the whole gamut of cello didoes, including the playing of one passage sul ponti'cello, which was a new one on yours truly. And, lest we forget, another conduc tor named Inglebrecht was represented TUEO-IICAGOAN 33 on this program with a business called In Honor of the First Snow-Fall in Japan. During this contribution an austere member of the orchestra ma nipulated an instrument called the Turkish crescent, a large set of thin- sounding bells mounted on what ap- peared to be a hat-rack. At intervals, when the music grew insufferably dull, the fellow jingled the bells very seri ously, eliciting hearty guffaws all over the house. This is what is known in dramaturgy as comic-relief, a refreshing innovation in the halls of symphony. The Gordons THE Chicago Chamber Music So ciety, sponsoring a series of cham ber music concerts at the Blackstone Theater, presented the Gordon Quartet a little less than a fortnight ago in a program of Schubert and Ravel. The Gordons, as ensemble artists, progress toward the zenith. Gordon, Wagner, Evans and Hancock, who have played together now for seven years, begin to assume the cohesion characteristic of quartets like the Rose and the Flonza- ley's. Their close association with mu sical life in one city has kept part of their light under a bushel, but it will be only a question of time when they will possess a national and, perhaps, international reputation. Imminent Wagner AFTER the Tyler-Craig Macbeth goes on the road again the Audi torium will be turned over to a brief season of Wagner. Rachel Kinsolving has announced the appearance of the German Grand Opera Company in two complete cycles of the Ring of the Nibelungen, beginning February 17th. The German company is a barn-storm ing group that includes such veteran Wagnerians as Karl Braun and Ottilie Metzger. The company brings a sixty piece orchestra under the direction of Dr. Walter Rabl, general musical di rector of the Magdeburg opera and a conductor of wide experience. Regard less of the quality of the performance from the angle of direction and his trionics, it will be a privilege to hear again the uncut version of the Ring. The epic, after all, needs consecutive- ness to drive home its full power and appeal. And it is not impossible that the Civic Opera will keep close tab on the drawing power of Wagner at its erstwhile home, having in mind the re vival of the Ring and The Master- singers at its new house next year. lUnttqueb Sntertors. of Hasiting $£eautp / HE inherent decorative values of finely paneled walls, wooden or timbered ceil ings, and ornamental doorways have so intrigued the fancy of today, that the use of some or all of these elements is an im portant factor in the considera tion of home building or re modeling plans. Our antiqued reproductions of period decorative woodwork have transformed interiors in homes and fashionable apartments along the North Shore and in exclusive suburbs. Our service is at your disposal, and a staff of skilled craftsmen is available to incorporate your individualism into interiors of beauty and lasting satisfaction. "The skilled craftsman, whose pride is in his art o'ershadows all else." Eellp interior Craft* Co. Chicago, 111. Workshop and Studio 905-09 North Wells St. V DIAMONDS ^ imported direct from Amsterdam and Antwerp Round Diamonds Marquise Emerald Cuts Squares Pear Shapes Baguettes Kites - Moons Triangles Manufacturers of Platinum Jewelry College Fraternity Badges WARREN PIPER & CO. Diamond Importers 31 North State Street CHICAGO tH "When I think of you, I think of flowers", he said, proffering them to her, — "and when I think of flowers—al ways Wienhoeber's." NO 22 EAST ELM ST SUPERIOR 06CA 914- NO. MICHICAN AVE SUPERIOR 00*5 TWE CHICAGOAN There is neither mystery nor miracle to the modern elegante's skill in caring for her beauty. From HELENA RUBINSTEIN she has learned the correct technique of home-treatments. From HELENA RUBINSTEIN she has acquired the subtleties of make-up art. Helena Rubinstein offers, through her Salon a unique and complete beauty service. If you wish to know the "secret" of making your eyes look large and luminous, visit the Salons of Helena Rubinstein. If you envy the tawny gold skin so modish at the moment, on the Riviera, Helena Rubinstein will give you a tan glow as chic as it is alluring. Have you despaired of erasing fore head lines, of banishing blemishes, of restoring a double chin to its rightful state of single blessedness? Then you owe it to your beauty to visit Helena Rubinstein's Salons. You are most cordially welcome for advice alone or professional treatment or both. The Hair Department mer its your special attention. It offers the ultimate in scientific scalp treatment and hairdressing most smartly express ive of you. PARIS LONDON 670 N. MICHIGAN AVENUE Chicago Tfie CI4ICACOENNC Motorists Wise. Harmonize By ARGYE WILL ON the assumption that motor styles originate with the class and then descend to the mass, I limited my in spection to the Drake Salon to find what is new in motors to interest Milady. For 'you of back seat per suasion — women who command a driver — the Isotta Fraschini Sedan Limousine, body by Castagna, Milan, of green and nickel and upholstered in a rose fabric of wool and silk, is a dream! Price $18,700, a modest figure when you see all the comforts included. Little brushes, vanity case, telephone to chauffeur, besides an electric signal by which you can give directions, stop, go, etc. The Cabriolet Roadster, of the same make, is $16,800 and like the other has many facile contraptions, among them being the hew aluminum covering to the disc wheels, stone guard on the radiator (though I can't imagine driving in such gorgeousness where this would be a necessity) and mosquito grating on the head lights. The Lincoln Roadster of black with Matador (burnt orange) trim was mentioned as the most popular car at the New York show and I can easily agree. It's just a knock-out, that's all. Canvas top, glass side windows so no weather would be disagreeable, trunk rack and golf club compartment, large rumble seat, and just everything per fect. Derham body. Price $6,600. For a larger car, the Packard con vertible Coupe. Coloring, Mica Schist gray with emerald trim, Dietrich body, price $5,790, would be my choice. This also has a canvas top and, when desired, it can be folded back right into the body. There is an adjustable arm rest in the back and the two in dividual front seats are also adjustable, so that a' short person will net of neces sity have to stretch. And, without con tinuing the detail, most of the odd de tails of comfort are here as well as in the others mentioned. THE Cadillacs are all dressed up, with much paint, every "job" being named after a famous picture. The Blue Boy and King George VIII. were very smart. The latter being an all-weather phaeton with movable seats and unbreakable glass. Price, $6,350. I am afraid it Will be impossible for me to adequately describe to you all the improvements in mechanism of the new models but I assure you that every one is most agreeable in satisfying ques tioning sight-seers, and it's a pleasure to see the cars, even if you are not buying a new one just now. Ah, but hark to me, while you may buy the most perfect of all these oars, and the suitable gowns to wear with it, is your figure such that you will be able to hold your head high and say with righteousness that you not only belong but look as if you did? This is where Zaydee Vee Mausby, 216 N. Michigan Ave., will of all per sons come to your rescue if need be. Established in business for the last seventeen years, ten years in this same spot, and never having advertised, she nevertheless is one of the foremost spe cialists of our time. All the most fash ionable and well known women and actresses form her clientele and sing her praises, but not too loudly, for such secrets are usually guarded well for one's nearest and dearest. She has her own complete line of cosmetics, carefully worked over for years to reach their present state of perfection, form fitting garments that may be worn under the lightest chiffon dress and still reduce a too prominent curve, and then, of course, her heavenly treatments. These are impossible for me to de scribe as every one has prescribed for her just what she alone will need to become one hundred per cent more at tractive both physically and mentally. I've both heard of and had many kind of treatments, but never before, anywhere, anything to compare with these. The effect lasts for days. WOLOCK and Bauer, Madison at Michigan, are showing color ful embroidered linen shoes with three- color leather trim, $21.50. Strap, pump or ties, but the strap still remains the most popular. Bags to match are $14 and $15. Kid shoes will be the most fashion able, in the sunburn shades and gray. This is almost steel gray and, having so much blue in it, will blend with other shades far more easily than the ones of other seasons. TI41; CHICAGOAN For sport wear they have an outfit of bag, hat and short coat of imported suede for $50. It comes in black, red, blond or green, and resembles a very small check. Different styles, but I like the one with sleeves that slips on over the head and has a man's revere collar faced with crepe de chene and pocket handkerchief to match. AT Commonwealth Edison and Pub- i\ lie Service Company shops in the suburbs you can buy the Hanks- craft automatic electric egg cooker. A tray of green, opalescent china with four cups and the egg cooker is $11.50. All you have to do is put in the right amount of water for the consistency you desire, turn the current on, and when they are done it will automatically stop cooking and you will have your morning egg just exactly as you best like it. Two teaspoons of water for soft, three for medium, and five for hard- boiled. If you prefer, you can pur chase the cooker alone for $5.50. MARSHALL FIELD AND COM PANY have from time to time held forth the pleasure of shopping in the Store for Men. I just want to say that I found the gentlemen there not only most courteous but most helpful with suggestion. Not being accus tomed to shop for male apparel (did I say not permitted?), I felt that with the assistance of the well informed folk there I could buy a complete wardrobe for any man — that is, one that he would wear. Of course, most of you have dropped in now and then on the main floor for gifts. That's always worth while. Let me urge you, next time you are in the vicinity, to go in and see one of the finest shoe and underwear shops that it has ever been my pleasure to visit. On the second floor, Store for Men. AJ -X. u V 2k £ h Looked up to as Chicago's premier \^* ¦ « hotel . . . naturally Chi- \^^ | / cago's smartest parties are given a Shoreland setting. Here are unparalleled facilities for large or small parties . . . dinners, dinner- dances, luncheons, banquets, weddings, receptions. A remarkable and truly French cuisine, an organized service-staff. Shoreland parties are always successful parties! Sty* HOTEL SHORELAND Fifty-fifth Street at the Lake . . . Telephone Plaza lOOO For the Brilliant Season a deftly literate magazine frankly concerned with things above average, and always a civil ized commentator on the Town. "The Chicagoan," 407 So. Dearborn St., ¦ Chicago, Illinois Send "The Chicagoan" one year, $3 — two years, $5. (I have checked my choice as you will notice.) ¦ ¦ T^ame Address 36 TI4E CHICAGOAN How About Me? 'I'll Get By" — Voice with Guitar. Nick Lucas, "The Crooning Troubadour" "How About Me?' 4156 "The Sun is at My Window" — Fox trot (Throwing Kisses at Me). And the theme -song of "Lucky Boy," fox trot. Jack Denny and his Orchestra with vocal chorus by Dick Robertson 'My Mother's Eyes" 4170 'My Tonia" — (Theme song of "In Old Arizona") Fox trot. Arnold Johnson and his Paramount Hotel Orchestra 'My Inspiration is You'1 4158 Prelude in C Sharp Minor— (Rachmaninoff) The Cleveland Orchestra, Nikolai Sokoloff, Con ductor, and Lehar's "Where the Lark Sings" 15189 Always something new on Brunswick Records There's new snap, rhythm and pep in Brunswick Records PANATROPESRADIOLASRECORDS Vhe CINEMA Herr Erich von Stroheim s Best Motion Picture By WILLIAM R. WEAVER AFTER a deter- i mined dec ade of disagree ment with the ways and means of Herr Erich von Stroheim I am about to break down and confess discovery of his artistry, courage, abil ity — give it any name you like. For I have seen "The Wedding March''' and, shining through it, a great light. Unhappily, a great light which a great many people seem to have discerned while yet I pondered his militant dis regard for what has come to be known, even in Hollywood, as commonsense. My error. I am unacquainted — and probably this has something to do with my en lightenment — with the exact number of celluloid miles and the exact height of the hard gold mountain traversed by the bullet-headed Austrian in pro ducing the nine reels that constitute his finished entertainment. I do know that he never begins the final scissor ing process with less than three hun dred thousand feet of film on hand and that he never succeeds in cutting this amount to less than thirty thousand before breaking his contract and fleeing the studio and his employment. The eliminations finally bringing the picture within the bounds of cinema consump tion — from thirty thousand to nine thousand feet in this case — are per formed by relays of hastily summoned experts, unfamiliar with the story being told, each relay cutting away a few chapters and passing the picture along to the next. Thus bendeth Art to Commerce — and to the possibly in artistic but important fact that no human being can look at a seven-hour motion picture and retain both sight and sanity. ON the face of it, and so it has seemed to me until now, a di rector ought to be able to envision the completed picture and manufacture just exactly its component parts. So argue the commonsense advocates, the bankers and bookkeepers who have brought Hollywood out of chaos, but not so Von Stroheim. He begins work with a story that exists only in his mind. How many times it is altered in the making no one knows but he. There is a suspicion that he hasn't a story to begin with, that he plunges in wildly and splashes about until he gets his bearings, then proceeds to im provise, revise and experiment until he has something different from anything he has seen. This is probably true. "The Wedding March," for instance, is in no substantial particular like any other picture or stage play or novel or short story. And of course that is its principal virtue. Stof> and Go The Wedding March: Herr Erich von Stroheim's best motion picture. (Watch for it.) Interference: The best screen transcrip tion of a stage play to date. (Hear and see it.) Abie's Irish Rose: Now need we go into that? (Who can tell?) Naughty Baby: Snappy stuff with Alice White, in a soluble bathing suit, signal ling "Me, too, Clara Bow." (If not moody.) The Redeeming Sin: Quite the worst of the vocal adventures. (Never.) The Terror: A vocal thriller with an excellent cast and a story. (If you thrill pleasantly — positively. ) Scarlet Seas: Richard Barthelmess and Betty Compson in his bloodiest exhibit since "Tol'able David" — and his best. (Yes.) The Shopworn Angel: Nancy Carroll and Gary Cooper in the best little war picture since the war. (Attend.) The Rescue: Ronald Colman and Lily Damita in catch-as-catch-can claptrap that doesn't. (Never.) The Case of Lena Smith: Too, too bad. (Hein.) Red Wine: Conrad Nagel almost goes wrong again. (Possibly.) The Flying Fleet: Excellent aeronautics, mediocre entertainment. (Well?) Four Sons: Splendid wartime drama for mother, the boys or anyone else. (See this one.) Conquest: What happens when movie actors wax vocal without the aid of a playwright. (Heaven forbid.) Simba: 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.) TI4E CHICAGOAN 37 "Little Egypt " [continued from page 12] suggest that the time was 1893 and that Freedha was both a wow and a knock out. She hung 'em on the rafters, and tore 'em out of their seats, and when the Exposition was all over, and the promoters had called it a day, it was but natural that Freedha was turned loose on the country in order that those who had not an opportunity to share her art at Chicago, might not go down to a dank and dreary grave. Unfortunately for Freedha, however, her success had been so phenomenal and the intake at the box-office so eminently satisfactory, that other dan cers saw the light. After a season or two with Sam T. Jack and his re nowned Serenaders, Pat White and his Morning Glories and two transconti nental tours with the circus of Messrs. Forepaugh and Sells, her star began to dim a bit. The trouble was that the young ladies of this nation appeared to have been transformed over night into a. nation of "cootch dancers," as the vulgar called them. On every corner there were girls to be had, capable of dancing something like Freedha's dance, who were willing and anxious to per form for one-tenth the money. Where upon Freedha quit. Twenty-five years ago she married her good man, settled down to the easy life of running a Greek restaurant and now dances no more. She has hopes of a general re organisation for the Chicago Fair of 1933 but that is another story. FREEDHA was just 16 when she came to Chicago. She is a Syrian, born in the ancient city of Damascus and within shadow of the palace which once housed the stately form of the il- lustrous Apostle of the Gentiles. Damacus was then, as it is today, the rendezvous for the pilgrims to Mecca from northern Asia. Frequent cara vans made the journey thence to Bag dad and to Cairo, with camels and mules, horses and merchandise. On one such excursion Freedha's papa saw fit to bring his only child and then, arriv ing at Cairo, and running into some unforeseen financial reverses, the pair tarried a while, or until papa could straighten out his affairs with a local banker and return to his native heath. But for Freedha there was to be no re turn. Freedha was destined for greater things. Her star pointed afar to the West, to a new and distant country where life was young and easy. The petite Damascene liked Cairo from the start. The town attracted her with its gayety of laughter and the lilt of its song. Strange to relate, she developed a particular fondness for the wandering troubadours of the country who went about the streets much in the fashion of the pre-Volstead Ger man bands in Chicago except that the Egyptian ensemble carried in its entourage two or three very attractive girls who danced while the band played. Freedha liked that part of the program and set herself to master the intricacies of that strange and curious gyration. She learned rapidly. With in the year she had become the star performer of all the Cairo outfits and when the big, rich Americans came to assemble the personnel for their con cession on the Midway, it was but natural that Freedha should be selected to go along. The salary was $150 a month and "all expenses paid'''- — more real money than Freedha had ever even heard mentioned before. IT was a veritable Noah's Ark that brought the contingent from Cairo to New York. Besides Freedha and two of the Egyptian bands, there were two other dancers, and magicians, wrestlers, acrobats, strong men, camels, elephants, zebras, lions, tigers and mules. Freedha remembers them all and insists that she had the time of her life. She liked Chicago even better than Cairo. Everybody here was so kind to her, and encouraging in her art, that she determined during her first week that Chicago was to be her home for the future. Of course the unpleasant ness that arose following her cyclonic hit on the Midway soured her a bit, but she is a woman stout of heart and managed to survive. Then, too, she chanced upon the young Greek whom she was later to take to wed and that counted for something. Of her days in America Freedha has naught save praise. She is an Amer ican citizen and "proud about it." So, too, is the hubby. Both have prospered handsomely. The stupendous salary of $1,000 a week which she collected for the better part of three years she sun\ in South Side property, chiefly two-flat houses in the Syrian colony. She helps occasionally at the restaurant and drives a big Cadillac when she feels the need of relaxation. She is a Chris tian and, during the course of my three-hour talk with her, sought half- £oiiuknri~ The Gilom to* (Park,- 7lk>QMmfo (ianlm- Tfie \hj HMial- GomhotM 7k Joke MvyteQwrn Hotel i&fo(MaMfr 38 TUECUICAGOAN 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 Double. $5.00 to $6.00l to $7.00j a-dozen times to impress that fact upon me. But she finds religion in the United States a trifle confusing. She can't understand why there should be so many different Protestant sects, all claiming to be followers of the Naza- rene, yet all, seemingly, in open and avowed conflict. Though she never in dulges in alcoholic beverages she is op posed to Prohibition and thinks the country would be better off without it. She has had no children of her own but she professes a great love for the little ones, and the Christmas season finds her playing Santa Claus to hun' dreds of dark skinned, almond-eyed bamhinos, or whatever one calls Syrian babies. Her philosophy of life is all-embrac ing. Her purpose, she told me, is to be a good wife and a good citizen, to love Chicago and America and obey the law and, above all, to love and help the poor. She stressed this point more than once. She told me in the gathering twilight of her daily prayer that "God take me first and leave him," meaning thereby that she be not called to sur vive her husband. "If he die first and I live," she told me, "I give all I have to the poor. It is my way and I have it so." No men tion was made of the disposition to be made of the lady's estate in the event that hubby survives her. FREEDHA is still good to look upon. She is robust but not stout. Her coal-black hair is just beginning to gray but she is vivacious, alert, keen and energetic. And she can still dance. Of this I bear witness because, when I insisted that she could not, and kept at it, she became irritated and pro ceeded forthwith to show me up. And what a dance! No wonder the Co lumbian Exposition drew great crowds! Incidentally, the promoters of the project for 1933, might learn some thing to their advantage from Freedha. She, at least, knows what the crowd likes. That curious, haunting melody with which our present-day orchestras sug gest the dance that was Freedha has always held a particular interest for this reporter. You, who read this, have heard it a hundred times. It goes something like this: Da-da-da da da, da-da-da-da'da-da-da, da-da da-da da- da'da-da-da-da-da, da-da-da. That classic was written especially for Freedha, "Little Egypt," by no less a personage than the Hon. Sol Bloom, Member of Congress from New York and, back in '93, a concessionaire along the Midway. Sol, so the story has it, was a resourceful fellow and a daily attendant at the exhibitions in the Street in Cairo. He hit upon the tune, gave it to Freedha and received in re turn two Annie Oa\leys for his right, title and interest therein. As time went on, and Sol witnessed the wide spread popularity of his composition, from which he received no royalties, he left Chicago flat, gave up the exposi tion business entirely and proceeded to the Bronx and to Congress. One more word about Freedha: I asked her what she thought of our present-day style of dancing, where upon the good lady proceeded to a verbal hemorrhage. "Disgustingly vul gar," she roared at me. "Unfit for decent people." She then proceeded to thank God that she had no daughter in these wicked days, to be exposed to the shameful and sinful dances which, Freedha says, are an every-day indulgence in the parlors of the so- called best homes of the town. "Phew!" she whistled. "Thank God, I ain't a young girl in these days.1' BOOK/ *' American Beauty" By SUSAN WILBUR ARTHUR MEEKER, JR., is a fourth generation Chi cagoan. Which, at twenty years or so to a generation, ought to put him where he could write a really conclusive historical novel. All about John Kinzie's buying that cabin on the Chicago River from the Santo Domingan in 1802. How he, in the person of his ancestor, hap pened to be captured rather than killed in the Fort Dearborn massacre in 1812. Duck hunting on Mud Lake. What dishes were a specialty in Beaubien's tavern and whether the coffee was good. And so fill a book without so much as touching upon anything so recent as the Chicago fire. And then write another covering the period from 1870 to what happened at someone's ball in, say, January, 1929. What is one's surprise then to open "American Beauty," the first of these two novels, and find that it's not about mm i 1 yilllllli^Ullfli! 1 L TWE CHICAGOAN 39 For people of exacting* taste this pure sparkling water fresh from Corinnis Spring THE discriminating hostess enhances the perfection of her cuisine with Corinnis Wau kesha Water. Its crystal-clear purity and exceptionally good taste make it a table water par excellence — a water you can serve to your children without fear and to your guests without apology. The Cost is Low! Order a case of Corinnis today. We deliver it to your door any where in Chicago and suburbs. Also shipped anywhere in the United States. You'll find it sur prisingly low in cost — one of the finer things in life which every one can enjoy. Particularly Important Use Corinnis Waukesha Water in your electric refrigerator for the freezing of your ice cubes. Corinnis ice cubes cool drinks without detract ing from their delicate flavors. HINCKLEY & SCHMITT, INC. 420 W. Ontario St. SUPerior 6543 (Sold also at your neighborhood store) WAUKESHA WATER Chicago at all, but, to begin with, about Paris and the great Lanvin sale, and, what's more, that the American girl who is late to the sale because of her mother's tiresome habit of getting the bathroom first doesn't even hail from Chicago but from California. But there's an even greater surprise in store particularly shall we say for readers of The Chicagoan. Namely that "American Beauty" is a really good book. And the next question is how to write this review so that it will sound as though "American Beauty" really were a good book. To praise it won't do. A colleague of mine tried that and everybody thought she must be hiding something. On the ground that a prophet is without praise in his own country. And consequently that if anyone does get praised in his own country, it's proof that he's no good at predicting. Caricature, every word of it. From the paper dresses that Lady Daventry gets them to wear to the races one rainy day, to the love affair itself, where Angelica, widely press-agented American beauty, gets engaged as is apparently a habit with her to the nice young man instead of to the millionaire she is being exposed to. But it's the sort of caricature that is pictured, only more emphatic. Amusing, annoying, exciting, and yet, in a literary sense, genuine. Odds Blood THERE is probably no worse sen sation in the world — psychological sensation at least — than to feel oneself out of fashion. For a woman, that is. Men of course can sometimes get by with it. . I have for instance seen a man wear his father's dress suit and point out with satisfaction that materials in those days were better than they are 015 NORTH MICHIGAN 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 Fraternity Rooms Ball and Banquet Rooms Circulating Library Billiards Chess Cafeteria Athletic Exercise Room Allerton Glee Club in Main Dining Room Monday at 6:30 P. M. World's Largest Public Indoor Golf Course IS Holes — Sand Greens ALLERTON HOUSE WEEKLY RATES PER PERSON Single - - $12.00— $20.00 Double - - $8.00— $15.00 Transient - - $2.50—$ 3.50 Descriptive Leaflet on Request CHICAGO CLEVELAND NEW YORK 40 THE CHICAGOAN For the Right Light TRADE MARK The Personal Reading Lamj^ 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 a dozen popular colors. Vote:— Booklite is scientifically made to safeguard the eyes. Insist on the genu ine with Mazda bulb. Trade mark pro tects you against inferior imitations. At all best shops and department stores. MELODELITE CORPORATION 130 W. 42d Street New York 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. now. But a woman doesn't. Before starting out in zero weather with noth- ing but silk stocking between her hem and her golosh top, she may think for a moment of her last winter's coat neatly packed in moth balls. But it usually doesn't get any farther. However, it isn't so much about fashions in clothes that I'm worrying at the moment as it is about fashions in reading. Here I sit, utterly, irre- mediably and hopelessly out of style. Yes, believe it or not, I can't read detective stories. To me a murder can never be a point of departure. To me a murder remains merely a death, re grettable, presumably avoidable. And what's more, I'm not at all sure that I approve of other people's reading them. Though I- admit that it may be cowardly for me to say so with Wood- row Wilson not in a position to answer me. (Though for that matter he has just got a book out over the ouija board.) But when you come to think of it, suppose you should be able to gratify the ambition once expressed by a reviewer on the Chicago Evening Post, namely, to read one good detec tive story every evening and two on Sunday, what's to prevent your absent- mindedly committing a murder your self some day? EVEN as I write this, however, I realise that it's fallacious. For, likely as not, reading a lot about mur der prevents your committing it. There is a rumor, to be sure, from England — whence an awful proportion of our mystery stories has been coming. — that the fashion may be dying out just a little. But that doesn't prevent our having just had a banner month here in America. Fifty-five new mys tery titles, a bookseller told me, not to mention the new reprints. And to think that I've handled about forty my self and can't tell you a thing about any of them. That is, about any of them except Henry Kitchell Webster's "The Sealed Trunk." I do read Henry Kitchell Webster. Every detective story writer has his formula, and Mr. Webster's is minus murder. Every thing else — excitement, clues, chases, but no policemen, better still, no bodies. However I've heard about one of the others. "The Spectacles of Dr. Cagliostro," by Harry Stephen Keeler, another Chicagoan, is said to have pre vented all housework in the home of a young Chicago novelist for a complete WELL-KNOWN MEMBERS OF THE BETWEEN- THE -ACTS CLUB BEN LYON star of "Hell's Angels" . . . when a cigarette doesn't satisfy and there isn't time for a cigar you're in luck to have a tidy packet of Between-the-Acts in your vest pocket. The 15^ cigar in ten install ments! lOforl^ BETWEEN THEACTS LITTLE CIGARS Smoke 10 and see . . . It's worth 15c to know bow good these little cigars are. If your dealer can't supply you, mail us 15c (stamps or coins) for a package. P. Lorillard Co.. Inc.. 119 West 40th Street, New York City. LUNCHEON— DINNER— SUPPER Petrushka is more than just a Chicago restaurant and night club. It's a Chicago institu tion. Its true originality has given it that reputation. fJetniafjfca Club Ely Khmara, Mgr. 165 North Michigan Avenue Telephone Dearborn 4388 eight-hour day. He came home in the evening and there were the dishes and beds just exactly as he'd left them in the morning. And In The Next Issue CHARLES COLLINS sums up the past, present and probable future of The Theatre in Chicago. WALLACE RICE, whose "Five Decades In a Bar Room" has clothed an ancient art with new significance, presents a query — in the same key — good for a thirty-minute debate in any drawing room. WILLIAM C. BOYDEN, JR., writer of the now historic article on the Harvard-Yale-Princeton Club, addresses his typewriter to the Saddle and Cycle Club. BURTON BROWNE contributes another of his touching pic torial tributes to the battle hymns of American colleges — this time Notre Dame. LESTER GABA, inventor of Twenty-first Century Furniture in the preceding issue, offers "The Spring Salon" in full color. AND, of course, The Chicagoan's fortnightly resume of the Town and its civilized interests by Francis C. Coughlin, Robert Pollak, Susan Wilbur, William R. Weaver, Arcye Will, Maureen McKernan and the ablest artists in this or any metropolis. NEWSSTANDS will display the issue February 23. Sub scriptions — three dollars the year; two years, five dollars — may be entered at the business offices, fifteenth floor, 407 South Dearborn street. A convenient means of obtaining the number by mail is provided on page 35 of this issue. "At smart parties 1 find that my favorite, Lucky Strike, is the chosen cigarette" Mrs. Jerome Napoleon Bonaparte, a leading li»ure in New York, Palm Beach and Newport soeial life. ¦ ¦»- For a slender figure 'Reach for a Lucky instead of a siveet 55 ** It's toasted" No Throat Irritation -No Cough. © 1928, The American Tobacco Co.. Manufacturers