March 2, 1929 J ~ 1 1 1 n 1 II 1 ¦ 1 L Reg. U. S.Pat. Off. J. _ i«i ¦ i m. .«[-.- J m *w> cxsfs *5i THE CHICAGOAN 1 PIONEERS OF THE VERY LATEST MODE IN 1895 this stylish young lady, the per fection of fashion a-wheel, completed her smart cycling costume with a French sailor hat imported by Field's. Speed limits have changed, but the fashionable woman of 1929, returning from the first test of her new airplane, lingers in the French Room, Fifth Floor, over the latest Agnes model, a ravishing twine turban just arrived fromParis. MARSHALL FIELD & COMPANY THE .CHICAGOAN TONIGHT INFORMATION concerning pleasant places to go and things to do after dark — Theatre, Restaurant, Music, Cinema, Books — can be cheerfully and knowingly had by telephoning The Chicagoan any evening between 7 and 11 p. m. The number is HARrison 0036. STAGE Musical Comedy ROSALIE— Illinois, 65 East Jackson. Har' rison 6510. Marilyn Miller and Jack Donahue are the twin stars around which revolves a whole Ziegfeld galaxy. A large, stately, tuneful and eye-filling show. Curtain 8:15. Sat. and Wed. 2:15. HELLO YOURSELF— Four Cohans, 119 North Clark. Central 8240. A comedy in the nimble college manner, re-enforced by Waring's Pennsylvanians, Hello Your- self is well worth a front row visit. Cur' tain 8:15. Sat. and Wed. 2:15. ML/SIC IH MAY— Great Northern, 20 West Quincy. Central 8240. A musical pageant in the Shubert manner out of Vienna. A swinging, melodious evening, too. One of the best of its type. Cur' tain 8:20. Sat. and Wed. 2:30. RIO RITA— Auditorium, 58 East Con gress. Harrison 1240. Ziegfeld returns this popular piece to the Auditorium for four weeks more of the Mexican border. A big, lavish, funny piece with one tune worth remembering. Oh, sure, see it. Curtain 8:15. Sat. and Wed. 2:15. LOVELY LADY— Garrick, 64 West Ran dolph. Central 8240. Mitzi closes her very successful musical offering February 23.' In her place AN.D SO TO BED. to be reviewed. LUCKEE GIRL— Majestic, 22 West Mon roe. Central 8240. A very lively and popular jazz show, singing "Whoopee" and displaying Billy House. Not a dull moment after the asbestos lifts. Curtain 8:20. Sat. and Wed. 2:20. Drama THE ROYAL FAMILY— Harris, 170 North Clark. Central 1880. A shrewd, funny, pointed comedy which has the town rolling in the aisles nightly. See Charles Collins' review on page 26. Cur tain 8:30. Sat. and Wed. 2:30. THE FRONT PAGE— Erlanger, 127 North Clark. State 2461. Cheers for the Hecht-McArthur farce on the newspaper business are still loud on North Clark street. A salty, gusty, funny play, ad' mirably cast and acted with the speed of a saloon shooting. By all means. Cur- tain 8:30. Sat. only 2:30. DIAMOND LIL— New Apollo, 74 West Randolph. Central 8240. Mae West and some 20 hams in a gaudy, incredible, THE CHICAGOAN PRESENTS Spring Salon, by Gaba Cover Current Entertainment Page 2 After Dark 4 Editorially By Martin J. Quigley 7 The Theatre in Chicago, by Charles Collins 9 To Drink or Not to Drink, by Wal' lace Rice 11 The WGN Studio Page Goes Sand' burg, by Quin Ryan 13 The Landing of the Pilgrims, by Francis Coughlin 14 Old Notre Dame, by Burton Browne.. 16 The Saddle and Cycle Club, by William C. Boyden, Jr... 17 "The Chicagoan's" Town Talk... 19 Ernest Byfield, Chicagoan, by Rom? : ola Voynow .,.., 23 The Stage, by Nat Karson 24 The Stage, by Charles Collins 25 Music, by Robert Pollak... 28 The Roving Reporter, by Francis C. Coughlin 30 The Chicagoenne, by Arcye Will 32 Newsprint, by Ezra 34 Cinema, by William R. Weaver 36 Books, by Susan Wilbur 38 libidinous farce — what if it is inadvert ent? — present the Town with some of the most laughable hoakum ever panted over the footlights. Curtain 8:30. Sat and Wed. 2:30. THIS THING CALLED LOVE— Selwyn, 180 North Dearborn. Central 3404. A light comedy with Violet Heming, Juli ette Day and Minor Watson tenders a fair evening at theatre. Curtain 8:30. Thursday and Sat. 2:30. THE TRIAL OF MARY DUGAN— Adel- phi, 11 North Clark. Randolph 4466. A melodrama authentically staged in court and resplendent with Ann Hard ing, this piece goes on and on and on. Yes, if you haven't already seen it. Cur tain 8:30. Sat. and Wed. 2:30. JARNEGAN— Woods, 64 West Randolph. Central 8240. Richard Bennett gets back at the movies through a stage version of Jim Tully's bludgeoning. To be re viewed. Curtain 8:30. Sat. and Wed. 2:30 (presumably). APPEARANCES — Princess, 159 South Clark. Central 8240. Doe Doe Green is a stellar colored comedian in this hodge-podge, which is, nevertheless, a good evening. Curtain 8:30. Sat. and Wed. 2:30. THE SCARLET WOMAN— Cort, 132 North Dearborn. Central 0019. Pauline Frederick is a lady appearing in a small town with a baby unequipped with a proper male parent. Comic, worth see ing, neatly done and most adequately acted. Curtain 8:30. Sat. and Wed 2:30. DEAR BRUTUS — Goodman Memorial Theatre, Lakefront at Monroe. Central 7085. A revival re-revived of Barrie's comedy. What more can be said? This is marking time for WHEN WE DEAD AWAKEN, an Ibsen play scheduled for February 26, and an ambitious effort for the capable and earnest Goodman Play ers. Curtain 8:20. Friday mat. only, 2:30. SKIDDING— Studebaker, 418 South Mich igan. Harrison 2792. A comedy highly praised in other cities arrives for its first view here. To be reviewed. Curtain 8:30. Sat. and Wed. 2:30. REVIVALS — Chateau, Broadway at Grace, Lakeview 7170; Kedzie, 3202 West Madi son, Kedzie 1134. These theatres re- offer last year's notable hits and afford a chance for the negligent theatre-goer to complete his schedule of plays. All pretty well done. Call theatres them selves for program information. THE PALACE — 159 West Randolph. State 6977. Headliners on the Keith- Albee circuit, and many of them head- liners indeed. Twice daily 2:15 and 8:15. Telephone for weekly programs. [continued on page 4] The Chicagoan Martin J. Quigley, Publisher and Editor; published fortnightly by The Chicagoan Publishing Co., 407 South Dearborn St., Chi cago 111 New York Office: 565 Fifth Ave. Los Angeles Office: 5617 Hollywood Blvd. (Pacific Coast Advertising Representatives — Simpson & Riley, Unio'n Oil Building, Los Angeles; Russ Building, San Francisco.) Subscription $3.00 annually; single copies 15c. Vol. VI. No. 12 — March 2, 1929. Entered as second class matter, March 25, 1927, at the Post-Office at Chicago, 111., under the act of March 3, 1879. THE CHICAGOAN 1$00 dbake oltoJte JyhjLM Lake Shore Drive proper can never be one foot longer. Its termini are fixed — the Navy Pier at the South, Lincoln Park on the North. Each year a location on the Drive will be increasingly desirable and harder to get. Only the Northern portion of the Drive faces the sunrises and moonrises over the clear, unbroken sweep of Lake Michigan. Here is its most favored section. Here stand many of Chicago's most imposing homes. Here is a neighborhood zoned against com merce, free from the smoke pall of more Southern locations, close to the Park, close to the heart of the city's life. And here, on the sunny corner of the Drive's single finest block stands "1500"— a magnificent building. Never again, after "1500" is entirely occupied, will such an unusual opportunity be afforded Chicagoans to acquire a perma nent home at this most desirable point on Lake Shore Drive. Small wonder then, that over 80% of the apartments have already been sold to some of Chicago's leading business men — best known families — over a score of them. A few beautiful, spacious arrangements yet remain. Chicagoans who appreciate and demand fine living should see them at once. ROSS & BROWNE Sales and Managing Agents 80 East Jackson Boulevard • Wabash 1052 Agent on Premises 4 TMQCMICAGOAN CINEMA UNITED ARTISTS— Randolph at Dear born — An alert audien palace. Perhaps the best. No orchestra. Continuous. McVICKERS— 25 West Madison— Balaban and Katz here display their best films. Continuous. ROOSEVELT— 110 North State— Another and smaller "good film" house. Continu ous. CHICAGO — State at Lake — Pictures and hippodroming. Approximately continu ous. Lots of orchestra. ORIENTAL — Pictures, but who cares. An imposing band, relic of Mons. Paul Ash. MONROE — -Monroe at Dearborn — Refresh ingly unmusical, good cinema. ORPHEUM— State at Monroe— Highly vo cal both on and off screen. GRANADA — Sheridan at Devon — Leading cinema north. MARBRO— 4100 West Madison— Leading west. AVALON — 79th at Stony Island— Leading south. MUSIC Chicago Symphony Orchestra, the 38th year. Orchestra Hall. Regular subscrip tion program, Friday afternoon, Saturday evening (the same program). Sixteen Popular concerts during the season, ap proximately every other Thursday eve ning. Tuesday afternoon series, a bit heavier than the Pop concerts, the second and fourth Tuesday of each month. Call Harrison 0363 for program information. Peoples Symphony Orchestra — P. Mari- nus Paulsen, conductor. Eighth Street Theatre, 741 South Wabash. Concerts by this new (three years old) group are increasingly notable among informed mu sic lovers. Concert dates are February 24, March 10 and 24, April 7 and 21, May 5. TABLES Downtown BLACKSTONE HOTEL— 656 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 captain. PETRUSHKA CLUB— 165 North Michi gan. Dearborn 43 88". 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. Delightful tea facilities. Khmara is master of ceremo nies. Kinsky is chief servitor. PALMER HOUSE— State at Monroe. Ran dolph 7500. A centrally located tavern, gracious, comfortable. An exceptionally good orchestra — formal music. Juan Mul- ler is maitre d'hotel. The Fountain Room is a favorite lunching place. COLLEGE INN— Hotel Sherman. Frank lin 2100. Loop. Lively. Modernist. Excellent victuals. Ray Miller's band. Stage stars. Celebrities. Julius Braun is captain. [listings begin on page 2] 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. 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. HUBERTS OLD ENGLISH GRILL —316 Federal. Webster 0770. Impos ing victuals which go far to explain why the "tight little Isle" is distended. GRAYLINGS — 410 North Michigan. Whitehall 7600. A deft and acceptable victualry, pleasant, well attended by good people and most conveniently situated. Food is apt to be more to feminine than masculine taste, but it is, nevertheless, 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 headwaiter. 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. Waffles. BELMOHT 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 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. JULIENS— 1009 North Rush. Delaware 4341. Great eating at plain tables under the supervision of Mama Julien, now, alas, a widow. A show place, mildly! The dinner promptly at 6:30. CIRO'S— 18 West Walton. Delaware 2592. Highly notable edibles lovingly done in an exclusive eating place mostly in formal dress. Louis Steffins is table chief FRASCATI— 619 Cass. Delaware 9669. A pleasant, competent Italian restaurant with deft service, nice people, notable dishes. JIM IRELAND'S OYSTER HOUSE— 632 North Clark. Delaware 4144. Sea foods in profusion until 4 a. m. or thereabouts. An after-theatre choice alike satisfying to soul and to esophagus. 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 LOUISIANE— 1341 South Michi gan. Michigan 1837. Victory 10533. Creole cooking is here a ritual acted out on the splendid pompano (rapturous fish!). Music for dancing. Time for din ing. Mons. Max is headwaiter and an expert guide to the cuisine. SHORELAHD 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 35th. 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. 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. TI4E CHICAGOAN 5 P irst in p inancial J\/i ews First to print the final Bid and Asked clos ing prices of the New York Stock Exchange. First on the street with the complete pic ture of the day's stock market close. First in volume of financial quotations pub lished each day. First in accuracy on all stock market quo tations. First in demand when complete and authen tic financial news is required. CHICAGO DAILY JOURNAL 6 THE CHICAGOAN Established I<?67 -*ZiqJison ^kjmded CHICAGOAN ELSEWHERE in this issue Mr. _ . A Charles Collins, The Chicago- t Q I t O an's alert and knowing observer of things theatrical, discloses the startling information that three times recently, at three different theatres, he at tempted to leave the play halls via emergency exits and in each instance found these doors loc\ed. These experiences have awakened in Mr. Collins' mem ory recollections of that tragic afternoon when disaster swept the Iroquois theatre. Having written the story of the Iroquois fire from first-handed observation for a Chicago newspaper, it is easy to realize that for him this matter of locked exit doors is a distressing subject. Mr. Collins has gracefully — and pointedly — directed at tention to a condition of neglect. Chicago, above all places, should have learned its lesson. The combination of time and the human element tends naturally to blur the import of any such lesson, but to those responsible for the public's safety there remains the duty of such practice of eternal vigilance as will leave to the Chicago public not alone a memory of horror from the Iroquois disaster but also the heritage of a higher degree of personal safety in public buildings. ? THE truth about Chicago's gangland is the civic mis sion which The Tribune is now indulging in. That fine reporter, Mr. James O'Donnell Bennett, who might well be writing something that would tend to offset rather than to emphasize Chicago's newspaper reputation, is now, unfortunately, lavishing his talents upon this lurid serial which has to do with the history of the gang business in Chicago. It would seem that even to the most ravenous circu lation department there should be quite enough of this sort of stuff dealt with in the usual and regular publication of news of the Town without the disinterment of persons and events which, happily, have been dead and buried. But not so with The Tribune. There, apparently, circu lation is circulation; the luminous figures on the south elevation of the Tower must be increased and meanwhile the Town may look after its reputation as best it can. I INLESS the public is not yet privy to plans already ^J laid, The Honorable Calvin Coolidge, after March fourth next, will be out of a job. A little later on a considerable segment of the nation's population will, of course, commence to busy itself with helpful suggestions to Mr. Coolidge. Various important corporations, univer sities and law firms will have their day in the news. He will be drafted here and drafted there and for a time it may look as if his choosing days are over. In an endeavor to anticipate that day, now only a few > ¦¦ weeks off, when the air will be filled f I d I I V w^^ suggestions as to future spheres / of influence for Mr. Coolidge, The Chicagoan now hastens forward with a word to the trus tees of the Chicago World's Fair in 1933, and, incidentally, to Mr. Coolidge: Why not — we repeat why not; — invite Mr. Coolidge to become associated in some appropriate manner with the coming exposition? The coming event, which will be of world interest and world significance, would be a fruitful field for Mr. Coolidge's talent for negotiation and talent for organiza tion; it will be an undertaking without parallel in kind in our day. Mr. Coolidge should be spoken to. NOW, while we have our hand in on the business of making suggestions, we will record another: This one is addressed to the authorities who rule the institution of jury service. To every business man above the rank of clerk the very term, "jury service," conveys a forbidding impression. It is not, as some of the voluble adornments of the bench like to declare in their endless orations on the matter, that the average business man is a voluntary slacker about jury service; it is not that he is lacking in a decent sense of his duty; it is not that he does not realize that better and more conscientious juries are needed. The difficulties lie in another direction. The business man's calendar is not susceptible to those convenient treat ments of juggling which apply in the case of court calen dars. If the exactions of his business are the exactions of a business of any importance, then it is usually difficult and always a hardship for him to be blanked out suddenly from the affairs immediately under his direction. In the present system, only two courses are open : Either to let the business suffer, or else, with the usual lowering of self-respect a notch or two, to make a more or less fictitious plea and become excused. Our solution — and we claim no resplendent virtue for it as it is only the application of a little commonsense — is that the jury authorities at some specified period send to prospective jurors a questionnaire in which the latter will be permitted to recite what particular dates during the ensuing year will be available for service. Such a simple procedure would at a single stroke elim inate the majority of the excuses now being offered; it would enable a business man to arrange his affairs to allow for the necessary time for jury service and it would obtain for the courts a quality of jurors not now obtain able under the existing archaic practice. — M ARTIN J. QUIGLEY 8 TH£ CHICAGOAN JJringing to Cshicago The Saks.Fifth Avenue Idea In Fashion v^oats — Dresses — onoes — JWiJiinery Jrlanabags — Jewels — oports Apparel .N egligees ana .Lingerie SAKS-FIFTH AVENUE NORTH MICHIGAN AT CHESTNUT STREET CHICAGO TUECWICAGOAN 9 The Theater in Chicago An Imaginary Dialogue Ends in Awesome Reality Characters: .Myself and Any Other Person. PLACE: Anywhere on Michigan Ave nue out of the wind, the mire and the trundle of traffic. Person (alertly): I understand you are writing an article about the past, present and probable future of the thea ter in Chicago. Self (with a gesture of negation): The editor of The Chicagoan is a humorist. Person: But surely there is much to be said Self: Much has been said. Much is being said. Much will be said. But what does it matter? Person: I should think the subject would inspire you. What traditions! What an historical perspective! You could speak of by-gone days at dear old Hooley's, and — ah — er — ah — you know-all that sort of thing. Self (in the voice of a seer): A covered wagon creaked through the mud; the villagers set up a cry, "Here come the players!" and presently the wagon rolled away. That was the past. ... A railroad train chuffs into a terminal; the townsmen set up a cry, "Here come the players!" and soon the train departs. That is the present A Zeppelin will drift droning across the smoky horizon; the citizens will set up a cry, "Here come the players!" and in a few weeks the airship will float westward. That is the future. Person (disappointed)'. You sound like Ethel Barrymore saying "There isn't any more— that's all there is." But Chicago has many playhouses. ... I hear that Ziegfeld is going to build another. Self: My dear Person, the theater in Chicago, or the drama, or the stage, or the show'business, or whatever you wish to call it, is merely an affair of comings and goings. It is a clamor eternally into one civic ear and out of the other. It is a strolling peddler who sets up his booth at a wayside tavern a little while and then tramps away, leaving behind, perhaps, the refrain of a ballad scratched upon a window'pane with a flawed diamond, or a tale of bawdry for the gossips to mumble By CHARLES COLLINS gleefully, or some lost star-dust that the children play with. Person: I suppose you mean Chi cago isn't a producing center. But I've heard it is becoming one. Self: I too have heard that myth It is a part of Chicago's folk-lore, like Father Dearborn's honest whiskers and Mrs. O'Leary's unruly cow. I was once innocent enough to believe in it. But now I congratulate Chicago upon her theatrical frustration. Person: Don't you think it would be jolly if actors and actresses and playwrights and managers actually lived here? To have real premieres, with suc cess or failure in the balance? To see celebrities scattered all over the audi ence? To be creative instead of taking plays at second hand? Life in Chicago then would be much more romantic! And our gifted people, our writers and artists, wouldn't always be moving to New York as soon as they make a reputation. Self: Perhaps. . . . And yet I would not trade Michigan Avenue for Broadway. . . . Consider how fortu nate we are. New York experiments, j vr***^ 'We'd like to see a few wedding rings — something excruciating" 10 THE CHICAGOAN and we select. We get the fine cham* pagne; Broadway keeps the sour lees of the vintage. The shows that come to us — a year late, usually, but what of it? — are like seasoned securities. We are lucky to be spared the cats-and- dogs of stage speculation. . . . More over, because we are divorced from Broadway, we have a more wholesome- minded audience to offer the drama. Person : But we haven't a Theatre Guild. Self: New York sends us one ready-made. Person: Still, it would be fun if Chicago had a Broadway of its own. The city would be so much more — what shall I say? — metropolitan. Self: Poor Person, I grieve for you! You are burning with the Chicago com plex. You yearn for closer contacts with the mysteries of the theater. You have heard the song the sirens sing^ they vanish through the stage-do<3ir. When the Drama League announces ~a luncheon for stage notables, you run to it, panting. You could die happy if a large roomful of club women were to hear you addressing Ina Claire by her first name. ... I fear you are in curable. I shall soon hear that you are moving to New York. Person (eagerly): I was in New York last month. I went to the theater every night. I saw all the hits. Self: And when they come to Chi cago next season, you will go to see them again. You will button-hole your friends in the lobby, announcing proudly that you saw this show in New York and that it's a shame So-And-So isn't in the cast any longer. Person (importantly): Let me tell you about that new play of Eugene O'Neill's Self: Please don't. Person (vexed): Don't you want to hear about what's going on in New York? Well, you ought to, since it's your business to write about the stage. Self: I shrink from your kind of fer of a synopsis of O'NeiU's latest dramatization of Freudian psychology. Six other Chicagoans recently returned from New York have already told me the story. . . . And I wish that I had been brave enough to strangle five of them. . . . The happy critic should permit the drama to take him by sur prise. Person (reproachfully): I don't believe you are really interested in the theater! Self : When I am watching a play, Itam transfixed with interest. I often go to the theater alone, in order to safeguard my enraptured attention from the amateur play-goer who cares less how the players are acting than how the critics are reacting. . . . But once outside the theater, I claim a right to other interests. Person: I should think your work would be too engrossing to permit of other interests. Self : That is why I go about look ing hag-ridden. That is why I some times yearn for the silence of a Trap- pist monastery. For everyone assumes that a man of stage associations can not be interested in anything else. They therefore engage me in conver sation on the subject. Their favorite gambit is, "What's the best show in town?" After that, the deluge. Person (affronted): Which means that I'm boring you. Self: No matter; you are helping me write my article for The Chi cagoan. Person (with a trace of venom): I'd hate to be as bored as you are. You have the reputation of being the most bored man in Chicago. Self: Oh, I have a few little hob bies to keep me from perishing with ennui. Person: As for example? Self: Relativity, the quantum theory, the progress of medical science, the backgrounds of early American culture, the stock market, the murder mystery series in Liberty, the litera ture of four languages, football, jai alai, chess, jazz dancing, heraldry and the art of fiction. Person (wisecracking) : Take off your whiskers; I know you! Your name is Philo Vance, the high-brow de tective! Self (smiling for the first time): Touche! .... But we haven't pol ished off this topic of the theater in Chicago. Ask me another. Person : Why isn't Chicago a pro ducing center? Self: Because modern transporta tion puts Broadway almost at our door-step. Chicago died as a produc ing center when the Twentieth Cen tury express train was born. Person: Well, anyway, we have the Goodman Theater. Do you think there is hope for it? Self : See the files. Person: What was your most vivid experience in a life-time of writ- ing about the theater? Self: The most vivid experience has always been last night's show. So it has not been altogether a wasted life. Perhaps I am the most bored man in Chicago because I have been the most amused. Person: But isn't there one thing, one great first-night, that you will al ways remember? Self: There was one last-night that I cannot forget. It happened a quarter of a century ago, but it often comes back to me at the end of a show when I am inching my way with the departing herd up a narrow aisle. . . Then I think of locked emergency exits, and scorched corpses piled up be fore them. . . . Women and children in holiday dresses, seared and cindered. . . . We had to wade among them, almost, when we were covering the Iroquois fire. Person: You would end up by be ing depressing! Self: Well, you asked for history. Person: Thank Heaven there are no more locked emergency exits. Self: Mark this, then, as a foot note to history: Three times recently, at three different theaters, after a play ended I have sought to leave by an emergency exit. And I have found the doors loc\ed! Bourgeoise I abhor smart magazines! They reek of things I cannot spell, things one Should, indeed, but smell; Caresse de Rose, Plaisir de Nuit! Non-Fisher body mine! Que Je suis gauche, alas; Nor is my skin toned by Two creams! I am thin Beyond prescribed concavity; Barb, then, to note milady's Streamline grace, her poise; Her this, her that; her trim Chignon, her cloche hat; Blindfold, her perspicacity In reach for slenderizing Cigarette! Ho-hum! Mine to enjoy the glut Of the hoi polloi; Judge, Life, and Time, or Liberty! — chevy chase. THE CHICAGOAN n Do Moderns Know How to Drink ? A Frank Disparagement of Today s Ti fillers DO THE young people of today know how to drink? In the sense of being able to get certain quantities of diluted alcohol down their throats, they do. But in the various senses of (a) being able to choose the best bev erage or best combination of materials, (b) to keep it, or them, down, (c) to take and keep a great deal of it through an extended period of time, (d) to keep going at a brisker pace with full consciousness of their surroundings, (e) to get good work done soon after, — they do not. On the contrary, their choice is limited, both in materials and imaginative knowledge; their capacity to have and to hold is even more lim- By WALLACE RICE ited; so are their periods of happy awareness; and their condition next day is both sad and non-productive. Here a seeming digression must be made. Not long ago, The Phoenix, pub lished by undergraduates of the Univer sity of Chicago, reprinted "The Drink er's Commandments" I wrote years ago, and asked rather incredulously if the author was living. In this query one suspects the coloring of the imag inary picture painted long ago and still accepted by the credulous and inex perienced, by those who regard the temperate — that is, unintoxicating — use of alcoholic beverage as certain to lead the user to an early and unhappy grave, unwept, unhonored, and un sung. As the Commandments were wholly in the interest of temperance, which is still one of the four Cardinal Virtues among Christians, it is pleasant to announce that the seventeen years which have passed since I wrote them, like the twice seventeen which had gone before, have only proved their validity. Here they are: These ten commandments youll observe If drin\ you'd master, and not serve. 1 First, study where to draw the line: Portrait of an Optimist 12 If eight will answer, why ta\e nine? II Of your days being learn the state: Sometimes three go as far as eight. Ill Dilute your liquor always, or Your stomach has to go to war. IV Sit down and ta\e your time; for \now The only pleasure's drin\ing so. V Tall{, jest, and laugh: in this way pass The merry fumes of many a glass. VI Eat frequently; with spells of food Three times the drin\ can be withstood. VII When your head reels, then stop at once, Or else you'll be both sic\ and dunce. VIII Stay up till calm; you'll feel next day Much better than the other way. IX Avoid hold-overs: there's a road May bring your bac\ too heavy a load. X And, if with drin\ing you must brawl, For love of Man, don't drin\ at all. * Experience, bought with years and pain, In these brief maxims spea\s again. THESE dicta, not in the least obiter, were of course written of the state of affairs which had existed in the world, civilized and uncivilized, from the time of Noah, the favored of God, down to the constitutional amend ment and its enacting legislation in tended in the face of all valid precedent and history to inject a Mohammedan dojflna into the faith of a Christian people. Of the manners and customs arrived at through the wisdom of the ages and adapted to these United States before this, details should be given. Forgetfulness, aided by the awful stuff we are getting, has already set in. The American of old, however his inventiveness showed itself in mixed drinks, took his liquor neat. "Whiskey" was the usual order to the bartender, and it meant whiskey straight. The customer was given two small glasses, . one to pour the liquor into, the other filled with cold water. His "gentle man's drink" was both small and di' luted, whether by pouring the water into the whiskey or both into himself; already half water, his accepted mixture was seldom more than 15 to 25 per cent pure spirits. In Virginia, Kentucky, and points south, toddy, in the American sense, was the customary potable, made with sweetened water and whiskey. Juleps were also common. These bring up another question, for all had sugar or syrup in them. So had cocktails, cob blers, punches, smashes; even a whiskey sour as made by the incomparable Harry Stiles had grenadine syrup in it, and the Ramos gin fizz no less. What has happened to the drinker now, that makes him avoid sugar and fill himself with fruit juice? Fruit cocktails are to eat, not to drink. And water? Even the highball as introduced into these parts in the late 'eighties was made in a champagne tumbler, though with sparkling water rather than plain. The dilution was enough to keep the internals from re volt and without flooding them. In every case the sugar served to make the drink palatable, and also acted as ballast. But it was never intended to serve instead of Scotch and soda or brandy and soda, drinks that should take half an hour each for consump tion. Drunk quickly, they hold water enough to founder a horse, or when called cocktails acid enough to sour the sweetest stomach, or both. THE object in drinking was not to climb an arid peak from which the only place to go was down, but to attain a pleasant plateau where the brooks babbled, the birds sang, and the breezes blew — and stay there. It was not to get drunk, which in B. L. T.'s inspired definition implied not only kissing the bartender goodnight but buying a pond lily to wear. It was to feel friendly, act friendly, be friendly. Getting drunk was another matter en tirely, leading to monkeyshines, quar relsomeness, and stupor. No sensible person expected to sensibly diminish the visible supply unaided. It had been pointed out long before that the convivial man was not a drunkard, and did not become one. The last thing he wanted was to lose any of his good time, to fade out of the merry picture, to fall into a coma and wake up God-knows-where. This was the drunkard's idea of heaven, and it was hell. If prohibition has come to add to its terrors, it is largely due to the yokel who had to be brought THE CHICAGOAN home in the bottom of a wagon. He wanted to be poisoned and couldn't be happy until he was. Of course we can't get what we want now. In Illinois it is a crime for a phy sician to prescribe wine; whiskey is the only possible remedial agent. If St. Paul were here and took his own ad vice to drink a little wine for the stomach's sake, he'd be liable to fine and imprisonment. Wine as a beverage that maketh glad the heart of man is not considered by youth in that light at all. The whole nation of agreeable stimulation has given place to the idea of a shot of dope. A young man to whom I was trying to explain the part that light wine should play in the scheme of things thought he was set tling the question against me when he said he had some wine that a pint of would keep me from walking straight. He wasn't even right about that, as I told him, but the only purpose he could see in drinking was to get wabbly — locomotive and digestive apparatus and intelligence — all wabbly. AND the most infernal mixtures come out of the general mess. What another misguided youth called a cocktail when he proffered it to me the other day was made of gin, Scotch and lemon juice. An old friend, old enough to know better, mixes gin and bourbon. A younger one, whom I sus pect of knowing nothing, in possession of an aged whiskey which was the envy of his friends, mussed it up with creme de menthe until he had to be remonstrated with. A brand new in vention, intended to be taken in quan tities, actually has cream slithered into it — possible with some liqueurs after dinner, but not otherwise. And so on, ad nauseam. No wonder they have to call in a physician the next day. In the older days we called in a bartender, no less adept in his profession, to begin with — and there it ended. And the next day we felt well, felt better, did a good day's work, and thanked God for His mercies. Study the Drinker's Commandments, O ye golden youth. And think upon us and of the bottles of old that we didn't finish, of the places where drink could be had that we didn't go into, of the nights that we turned to music, and of the cares that infested the day which folded their tents like the Arabs and as silently stole away. Now the bootlegger, the prohibition agent, and the police do the stealing. THE CHICAGOAN 13 The WGN Studio Page Goes Sandburg And a Literate Announcer Preserves the Proceeds for Posterity By QUIN A. RYAN Cows (After Kilmer) I know I'll never see, somehow, A poem lovely as a cow. With sober mien and somber eye, Content to let the world go by. To wind and unwind o'er the lea And doze beneath the willow tree. A cow predestined, if you please, To be a plate of cottage cheese. Or marked by fortune, with her ilk, To make a chocolate malted milk. A cow on which a world may munch, Who died to be a basket lunch. Ah, Death, where is thy sting of grief, If follow butterine and beef? Office Triolet No Michelangelo could work The sun rebounding on your face. A gleam of gardens seems to lurk. No Michelangelo could work, My lithe and comely order clerk, With you thus gilded at your place. No Michelangelo could work The sun rebounding on your face. Ambition I wish I wuz a little coot, The smallest thing-em-bob in town, To slide inside the postal chute And beat the elevator down. The Passionate Dictator to His Love I avow I love you comma And my tender thoughts are myriad Even for your dad and mama And dash oh I love you period ? ? ? Mother Goose on High Cost of Living If all the world were apple pie, And all the seas were ink, And all the trees were bread and cheese, T would be worth much more, I think. * * * The Blunder 'Bus I'd rather ride atop the 'bus Than any other place; So every little passing twig Can hit me in the face. Chicago A city shocked (in voce sotto) At ladies smoking in an auto. 14 THE CHICAGOAN The Landing of the Pilgrims A Modernized Version Faithfully Restoring the Lost Expletives By FRANCIS C. COUGHLIN [NOTE: Felicia Dorothea Hemans' ageless work is here presented with interpolations in the damn-it-all modern vogue. Lusty asides by seamen and bystanders enliven the erstwhile restrained presentation of a notable and historic scene. For full effect this work must be read ALOUD. The original poem, in italics, is to be rendered sweetly and reverently. Comment is scored from deep bass to that venomous monotone which is the natural voice of dis pleased sailors. Are you ready. Professor? Hearts and Flowers. Let 'er go!] ON BOARD THE S. S. MAYFLOWER The breaking waves dashed high On a stern and roc\bound coast, And the woods against a stormy s\y Their giant branches tossed; And the heavy night hung dar\ The woods and waters o'er "When a band of exiles moor'd their bar\ On the wild J^ew England shore. A Cockney Sailor Speaks : Well, 'ere we are. And hit's abhat the worst voyage Hi hever turned hin hon hany bleedin hocean. Gor Blyme, wot a passenger list. Wen they ain't pray ing fit to deefen a man, they're sea sick, and wen they ain't sea sick they're a-drawrin' up of resolutions an' makin' of lawrs to regulite heverything on board. Himpertinence from the steer age, Hi calls it! Tv^ot as the conqueror comes, They the true hearted came; 7v(ot with the roll of stirring drums And the trumpet that sings of fame; The Master of the Mayflower: Mister Mate, get up that consignment of spinning wheels for the Massachu setts Historical Society. Get all that Old Colonial furniture ashore. That's where our profit comes. Then out with the longboat and get these god forsaken steerage passengers off. Lively now! "Hot as the flying come, In silence and in fear They shoo\ the depths of the desert gloom With their hymns of lofty cheer. Governor Winthrop: I must re port, Sir, that your ship's company is composed of Godless men. They have tampered with the Plymouth Realty Company's stock of rum for the Indian trade. We have passed a resolution censuring them and — The Master of the Mayflower: Well, all I gotta say to you, Winthrop, is this: If youdda broke out with a set-up for the sailors now and then theydda left your lousy rum alone. It's terrible stuff. I'll have half my crew down with ulcers. The idea of you goin' around with that long face of yours and packin' 500 gallons of rum in your private luggage. If you trade that fusel oil to the In dians you better watch your step, Guy. Get me? Governor Winthrop: The In dians, Sir, are a heathen people. The Master of the Mayflower: Maybe so, but they ain't bad guys. They stand a drink when it's their turn. They know liquor. And them Indian gals, Professor — when you get ashore ask for Laughing Eyes over to the Sachem Lodge — Amid the storm they sang, And the stars heard, and the sea, And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang To the anthem of the free. The Master of the Mayflower: By Gad, Mister Mate, is that your idea of how to fetch a long boat to loo'rd. Port your tiller, Bosun. Pull up to that boulder and get a line ashore. And stop that infernal sing ing. Sing something you can pull an oar to. I'll flog every man jack of that landing party. How do you like that, you gang of five-thumbed, press- ganged farmers? Elder Brewster: Such language! THE CHICAGOAN 15 Brother, Hell awaits unless I wrestle with you in prayer. The Master of the Mayflower: Say, Brother, get the Hell off'n my quarter deck. This is a transportation company, not a tabernacle. See? The ocean eagle soar'd From his nest by the white wave's foam And the roc\ing pines of the forest roar'd — This was their welcome home. A Sailor: Quite a wind, ain't it? Second Sailor: Yeh, a right tidy little squall. Sorta embarrasses the ladies. Heh, Heh. Uh Huh— there goes Priscilla over the side. Upsidaisy! Haw! Haw! Haw! There were men with hoary hair Amidst that pilgrim band: Why had they come to wither there Away from their childhood's land? Captain Standish: Attention! Port Ahrms! Order Ahrms! Forward March! 1-2-3-4! 1-2-3-4! Crude Sailors: Pipe de Gyrene, Guy. Haw! Haw! Haw! De Salva tion Army. Yeh, me brudder was a top-sergeant when dis Standish was gold'hrickin' all over de Low Coun tries. De Spanish run de Captain from one end of Holland to de udder. If you could get dat athalete on a race track with a few Spicks after him you could win a hunk o' jack. Couldn't nobody catch up wid 'im. Marines, haw, haw. There was woman's fearless eye Lit by her deep love's truth; There was manhood's brow serenely high, And the fiery heart of youth. A Sailor: What a pack o' frosty eyed gals these turned out to be. Why just off'n Land End I met one on deck takin 'a stroll for herself in the moon light. Baby, I says, maybe you'd like a genuine sailor man to show you around after this pack of stiff-necked sheiks. So I shows her. And not a rise do I get. I tells the one about the Flemish soldier and the milkmaid — whew, nothing but the pious eye. So I gets mad. Lissen, Kid, I tells her. I been tryin' to amuse you. You can like my conversation or not just as you please. But how the hell do you ex pect to be entertained on ship board? Do you want I should be a steam cal liope or a trained animal act? And then, believe it not, I trun her down cold. I'd have nothin' more to do with her. What sought they thus afar? Bright jewels from the mine? The wealth of seas, the spoils of war? They sought a faith's pure shrine! The Master of the Mayflower: Mister Mate, check off those copper beads, the cheap gunpowder, the trade rum and that bogus jewelry ashore now. The ducking stool can go in a later boat. There's a shipment of con demned muskets comin' up. Wait a minute. I clean forgot the crate of bibles. Heave it down atop the fake wampum. All right. All clear. Lower away! Ay, call it holy ground The soil where first they trod The left unstained what first they found — And so forth, so forth, and so forth — A Mournful Voice: Amendment XVIII, Section 1. After one year from the ratification of this article, the manu facture, sale or transportation of intoxicat ing liquors within, the importation thereof into, or the exportation thereof from the United States and all territory subject to the jurisdiction thereof for beverage pur poses is hereby prohibited. Sec. 2. The congress and the several states shall have concurrent power to en force this article by appropriate legislation. 16 THE CHICAGOAN The Lon Chaney Quintette Renders "Cheer, Cheer for Old Notre Dame" THE CHICAGOAN 17 Chicago Clubs; An Inquiry IX. — The Saddle and Cycle Club IMAGINE, if you can in this weather, a sun-struck Saturday noon in the Loop, in the heart of July,— stagnant air, pavements palpitant with heat, de pressed crowds of sweat-damp wage- earners, dust, grime and carbon monox ide. Then mount a magic carpet, a Ford, even a bus, and in half an hour or less drop yourself at the Saddle and Cycle, just south of the Edgewater Beach Hotel. Let the lake wind carry the soot from your lungs. Roll on the grass, plunge into the outdoor tank in the shade of trees, join the baseball game, loll in a hammock, play tennis or croquet-golf. Then you will thank a benevolent deity and know at its very best the charm of this little country- club in the shadow of skyscrapers, this oasis on the sour Sahara of city life. Hedged off from the eternal motor- whir of Sheridan Road, the low, weather-beaten clubhouse sits on the edge of the lake, surrounded by un- dulant lawns, a sufficiently stoneless beach, native trees and tennis courts. There is no affectation in the name of the Club, no seeking for anachron- By WILLIAM C. BOYDEN, JR. istic prestige. In the Gay Nineties it really was a riding and cycling club, situated way, way out in the suburbs. In those days it took longer to get there, but the engulfing wave of shops and apartment houses has left the es sential spirit unchanged. We ride out from town for the same purposes and pleasures, but in more mobile vehicles. A typical Saturday afternoon: A soft-ball game at its height, bitterly waged and wagered, with Dad Fulton, "Y" at Yale in '18, Kim Salisbury, Hunt Wentworth, Pag Cady and others driving "homers" to the trees; tennis, and good tennis, with Luke Williams, Pres (he's called that in tennis circles, otherwise Bud) Boyden, Larry Calla han, George Huband in death grips; the milder racquetting of mixed doubles, with no husband permitted to partner his own wife; the tank, clear but for a stray leaf, with such gracile figures as Tommy Wheelock and the three Rend sisters draped on the marble ledges. AND croquet-golf! It demands a t\ paragraph of its own, for at the Saddle is played the croquet-golf Cham pionship of the World. Winding about the grounds is a nine-hole golf course, originally for approaching and putting, but now, (except for a Vic torian foursome headed by Nettelton Neff and still clinging to the little gutta-percha ball), used for this new game, new nearly everywhere but at the Saddle. Played as golf is played, but with a croquet mallet and a cro quet ball, it has been raised by its devotees to a Jones-Hagen level of per fection. Although it can be played by anyone and is by most of the members, do not think that this writer could any more win the Championship of the World at croquet-golf than he could hope to compete with the aforesaid Jones and Hagen at old-fashioned golf. No, in the auction pool preceding each tournament, your scribe sells at bar gain prices, while the daily scene in the Board of Trade Wheat Pit hardly rivals the excitement over the bidding for such names as Fulton, the old mas ter, brother Bud, Hal Strotz or Kim Salisbury. But upsets happen, — even Fulton encounters nemesis — , and last summer in the cool dusk a dark-horse, Alex Kirk, plodded the 36-hole finals, attended by his good wife, fractional "It's the uniform that gets 'em, Julius" 18 THE CHICAGOAN The Wales Visit — a Red Letter Day in Saddle and Cycle History shareholders in his winnings, and a goodly percentage of the whole mem bership, while the south windows of the Edgewater Beach were black with tele scopes. Family modesty forbids me to disclose who stopped the triumphal march of Kirk and won the imposing silver emblem of victory — and a bit wherewith to pay the rent. The long shadows stretch across the lake to beckon in the dusk. According to the best traditions of the grammar school theme "we arrive home, tired, happy and hungry for a good dinner." The terrace is "home," comfortable with swinging seats and tables, agree able with undemanding talk. But first there is a choice of three kinds of water, or rather three methods of con tacting with the same water, the shower bath, the tank or the lake, to ease tired limbs and to bring an even tide mellowness of soul, in better days identified as the cocktail urge. As the after-dinner cigarettes light up like fireflies, a small but adequate orchestra appears. Those who wish may, dance, or sit in contemplation of moonlight on the lake, or toy with a bit of bridge in the spacious card-room, where in the cooler days of fall and winter four fires blase on that many sides of a large chimney built into the center of the room. OTHER days of the week differ not in quality, but only in quantity, for it is still primitively fashionable to work for a living in these United States, and the week days find our Saturday's children chained to the tasks of necessity or ambition. So on a week-day the ladies predominate until school is out on LaSalle Street, the final quotations in, and another day has passed into the files of newspapers — about four o'clock in July and August. Who belongs to the Saddle? The question is fair but a little difficult. Social it undoubtedly is, but Society, I venture to say, it is not. The mem bership roll contains many honored names in Chicago's past and present, but position alone will not gain ad mission, if in the opinion of the Execu tive Committee the applicant is not one who will fit in to the activities I have attempted to describe. The success or failure of a new club is often attributed to the group in control. At the Saddle a splendid tra dition controls. But tradition is not a hardy perennial and must be carefully guarded, so at the symbolic gates stand with unsheathed swords Charley Freeman, President of the Club, Bar rett Wendell, in whose nature tradi tion is inherent, Hunt Wentworth, Secretary, many others and the shades of many who are gone. These gentle men would be the first to tell me not to overlook or fail in appreciation of Curly, Louie and Paul, presiding genii and in themselves traditions. And they would also speak a word for "Turtle," waiter extraordinary and unique — a figure one might encounter in the Hofbrau House in Munich, squat, serious, zealous in service, yet always groping through a dim nostalgia for a keg of beer. <n* CHICAGOAN'/ TOWN TALK Oh Yeh? WHEN John A. Swanson was taking his oath as state's at torney of Cook county, newspaper photographers and news reel men crowded about him. The ceremony over, he was asked to pose for a news reel. The camera man suggested that he talk while the film ground, so that the picture would have animation. Judge Swanson was stricken with em barrassment and could not think of an intelligent thing to say. The camera man suggested he say "There is a Santa Claus," and so the Judge smil ingly repeated the phrase again and again through many feet of film. That was the message he was giving to the audiences who later gazed upon his animated countenance in Chicago theatres. Gentleman IT was a prep party. Young people. Chaperoned. When a young couple proposed a short drive in the gentleman's car, permission was gracefully granted. When, however, the pair did not re turn for an hour and a half the fussiest matron assumed a chaperon's visage. Fifteen minutes later, she spoke gently to the young man. There was a ready and entirely plausible explanation, by the young lady. The pair had stopped for a sundae. Of course. What else? The young man was very bland. "That's her story," he assured the mol lified matron, "that's her story. And I'll stick to it!" Impression SHE was a lady who believed in mak ing an impression. And she was properly haughty with the credit manager of a large department store. She gave a good address. Further than that she did not care to disclose, her husband, her business, if any — her income — these things she triumphantly withheld. She moved off in icy triumph with such high success her credit account was approved in a few days. Naturally she experienced a pardonable elation in telling of the in cident. Some time later she discovered that the brow-beaten credit manager had investigated by methods known only to credit managers. He had found the date of her divorce in a western city, ascertained that her former husband had re-married, knew the precise amount of her alimony and the details of payment, plus, of course, the de tails of the divorce. She no longer speaks of her triumph. Oak Park GEORGE ASA ADAMS, for many years hangman at the county jail, does not take to the idea of the electric chair, and so he is retiring. He has bought a new home in Oak Park and will withdraw from professional life. Janitor THE perfect janitor, if so rare a be ing might be synthesized out of pure, Platonic essences, should evince certain noble attributes to the exclusion of all baser components. He should be mild, punctual, moustached and taci turn. Particularly he should be taci turn. It is this high dream of perfect taciturnity which sustains a fastidious young Evanston matron whose janitor called the other day to repair tiling around the tub in the master's bath room. There had been complaints "They're admitting another couple, Ludwig. Can the trombone and get out your piccolo" 20 THE CHICAGOAN from the apartment below. These com plaints the matron's German maid in dignantly discounted to the toiling janitor. "It is crazy, this complaining," ex plained the maid, "crazy. It could not leak through, the water. Besides, we never use the bath tub. Never. Not once a month, hardly. You see Mr. always takes his bath downtown at the club!" The janitor smiled and arranged bath tiling, somewhat as a master chess player might arrange his pieces before a game with a novice. A mild, ironic (perhaps a taciturn) smile. Psychic FOR connoisseurs of ghostly phe nomena we present the following happenings in order of occurrence: (1) Mr. S. D. McGuire, father of Eileen McGuire, Service Club dancer, dreamed most vividly that Miss Eileen lay mangled and dying after a crash of some kind. Startled, he went to his daughter's room to assure himself of her safety. (2) Mrs. S. D. McGuire had sub stantially the same dream the same night. (3) A family friend, meeting Miss Eileen a day or two later, confessed to a similar dream. (4) Under the chaperonage of Mrs. Robert Eastman, Miss Eileen went to New York. (5) A school friend in that city re lated the same dream of accident and injury. (6) Miss McGuire has suffered no accident of any kind. The Chicagoan, we hasten to add, is concerned solely with worldly (Oh most worldly!) phenomena. It pro poses to remain exclusively so con cerned. Conservatory FIFTY people are admitted a minute. Lines of visitors, four abreast, fill every pathway from eleven o'clock until evening closing. Thus the Garfield Park Conservatory. Just now the flower room is reported as most popular. It is hard pushed, however, by the jungle room — an un- •derstandable preference surely, for the jungle room is a place of tropical vines and ferns, of vivid foliage and gay strange plants. Curiously, the procession is slowest when the winding paths lead near water. Here visitors saunter at their utmost leisure. Flowers, being under glass, are not picked. Children, being inside, are seldom annoying. Butterfly FIVE successive evenings the night elevator boy witnessed the home coming of the bachelor occupant of apartment 10 R. On three evenings, the homecomer had sung lively but scandalous ditties during his 10-story lift. Another, he had remembered to halt the elevator to return a taxi driv er's cap in exchange for his own opera hat. The last, he had playfully insist ed on zooming the elevator up and down, the while repeating Lincoln's Gettysburg Address, with gestures. It was then the elevator boy made bold to unbosom himself. Briefly he ached for a life had — or at least had at — more abundantly. There was, however, a question of economics, and this he wished to discuss with Mr. 10 R. "Is it true," asked the operator, "that the entertainment of ladies is ex pensive?" "Ehu," lamented 10 R, "it is. It is!" "Very expensive?" "We are met," continued 10 R, "on a great battlefield of that war — Well, go on." "But could you," pursued the ele vator operator, "could you entertain on three dollars a week?" Three dollars, he added, was his weekly allowance for the social life. Voodoo VOODOO doctors do a thriving business in Chicago. We have checked up on seven such practitioners within eight blocks of each other, in the neighborhood of Thirty-fifth street and Michigan avenue. Colored maids declare that the near south side is replete with them. They serve not only the colored population but find many white clients. They specialize in removing spells. If a mother wants to make her runaway son stay at home, she may buy a charm for five dollars — or a dollar if she hasn't five. The picture of the run away is nailed, face down, under a carpet or rug, near the threshold of the door of the home. Then "spells" are pronounced night and morning. The boy will eventually come home, if he is not dead. When he comes home he must be told of the voodoo on him. He knows then that if he ever runs away again some dire misfortune will Members of the Book of the Month Harold BeV befall him. So he stays at home. The charm is said to be most effective. Almost any kind of sickness can be cured by the voodoos and many col ored people of the city, particularly of the housemaid class, will consult a doctor and follow his instructions but they will consult the voodoo woman THE CHICAGOAN also. The voodoos specialize in bone aches and muscle pains. Those ail ments, the housemaids will explain, are almost always caused by a curse laid by some enemy. The cure is to find the enemy and then by incantations and the use of photographs send the curse back to the giver. Until that is done, the ailment will linger in the body of the sufferer. Once a curse is sent back to the person who laid the spell, it will re main until death. An old man bent with rheumatism may well be that way because he laid the rheumatism on someone once, and then received it back again through a voodoo. Voodoos sell love charms, but few of the Chicago voodoo doctors offer to recover lost money. They advise their clients to consult physicians for their ailments, to receive treatment for their aches, but they assure the clients that a full cure can come only through voodoo. Cofi THE best dressed policeman in Chicago is Captain Charles Mc- Gurn of the Fillmore police station. He is also the best groomed policeman in the city — or at least no policeman is better groomed. His suits are tailor made and are always immaculate. Which may be one of the reasons why he is almost always addressed as "Sir" by those who pass, for one reason or another, before his desk. Yet his is "a hard district." He is one of the police captains who is changed about less than the average members of the force. Fly Coj> A YOUNG clerk in a banking and i investment house on LaSalle street developed a "detective mania." He read detective stories, subscribed to detective courses by mail, and even made friends with members of the city detective force, so that they took him with them on their work at nights. He tried to work out his own theories of every crime that drew the attention of the newspapers, and in the bank was continually turning his would-be detective powers to problems of the bank. His Hawkshaw tendencies final ly lost him his job. The bank officials discovered that he was of real use to them, created a new position for him, and now he is a sort of special officer for the bank — and is happy. Teafiot Tempest MARIE AGNES FOLEY, who manages the Jack and Jill thea> ter where children put on their own plays, announced the other evening to some of her patrons that she was pre paring a one act presentation of "Bel- phagor" by Nicollo Di Bernardo Dei Machiavelli. The Italian masterpiece 21 concerns the adventures on earth of the devil, who came to ascertain the truth of the declarations made by so many men in hell that their wives sent them there. Shortly an attorney from a local firm, representing the Theater Guild of New York, called upon Miss Foley to tell her to stop that business right now, because the Guild owns all rights to "Man the Superman." (Sounds a little like a policeman telling a motorist that he can't left turn here because it's wrong to eat oysters in July.) Miss Foley explains it by saying that the library edition of "Man and Super man" contains a scene in which the devil does this and that on earth, al though producers never include the act in presentation. The point of absurdity seems to be that the New York Theater Guild should send attorneys running about in excitement over a casual re mark made by the director of one of Chicago's Little Theater enterprises. Miss Foley admits she thinks it a lot of fun. Pianist IN 1915 the pianist for the Bryn Mawr neighborhood cinema was ap proved by a harrassed management. The pianist had, in some fashion, charmed the small boy front row out of its fidgets — the distressful uneasiness of young customers who had come to shout through the comedy and riot through the feature on long Saturday afternoons and evenings. This pianist had come to know his lively patrons by name. He quieted altercations, played the music children wanted, sang to them, talked to them, chided them until they would rather hear the pianist, almost, than jiggle through a society drama. The Bryn Mawr became a kind of children's club in time. The nickelodeon pianist, Uncle Bob. Yes, tune the children in on KYW. Rafid Transit THE bus line designated as 58 goes north from the loop and along the western fringe of Lincoln Park until it joins the route taken by other north side busses at the far end of the park. It seems that by unanimous vote of the passengers the journey (during the evening exodus from the loop) may be altered to suit. "Any you folks wanta go Lincoln Park West?" asked the driver on a recent subzero occasion. "If not we'll 20 THE CHICAGOAN THE CHICAGOAN 21 from the apartment below. These com plaints the matron's German maid in dignantly discounted to the toiling janitor. "It is crazy, this complaining," ex plained the maid, "crazy. It could not leak through, the water. Besides, we never use the bath tub. Never. Not once a month, hardly. You see Mr. always takes his bath downtown at the club!" The janitor smiled and arranged bath tiling, somewhat as a master chess player might arrange his pieces before a game with a novice. A mild, ironic (perhaps a taciturn) smile. Psychic FOR connoisseurs of ghostly phe nomena we present the following happenings in order of occurrence: (1) Mr. S. D. McGuire, father of Eileen McGuire, Service Club dancer, dreamed most vividly that Miss Eileen lay mangled and dying after a crash of some kind. Startled, he went to his daughter's room to assure himself of her safety. (2) Mrs. S. D. McGuire had sub stantially the same dream the same night. (3) A family friend, meeting Miss Eileen a day or two later, confessed to a similar dream. (4) Under the chaperonage of Mrs. Robert Eastman, Miss Eileen went to New York. (5) A school friend in that city re lated the same dream of accident and injury. (6) Miss McGuire has suffered no accident of any kind. The Chicagoan, we hasten to add, is concerned solely with worldly (Oh most worldly!) phenomena. It pro poses to remain exclusively so con cerned. Conservatory FIFTY people are admitted a minute. Lines of visitors, four abreast, fill every pathway from eleven o'clock until evening closing. Thus the Garfield Park Conservatory. Just now the flower room is reported as most popular. It is hard pushed, however, by the jungle room — an un- •derstandable preference surely, for the jungle room is a place of tropical vines and ferns, of vivid foliage and gay strange plants. Curiously, the procession is slowest when the winding paths lead near water. Here visitors saunter at their utmost leisure. Flowers, being under glass, are not picked. Children, being inside, are seldom annoying. Butterfly FIVE successive evenings the night elevator boy witnessed the home coming of the bachelor occupant of apartment 10 R. On three evenings, the homecomer had sung lively but scandalous ditties during his 10-story lift. Another, he had remembered to halt the elevator to return a taxi driv er's cap in exchange for his own opera hat. The last, he had playfully insist ed on zooming the elevator up and down, the while repeating Lincoln's Gettysburg Address, with gestures. It was then the elevator boy made bold to unbosom himself. Briefly he ached for a life had — or at least had at — more abundantly. There was, however, a question of economics, and this he wished to discuss with Mr. 10 R. "Is it true," asked the operator, "that the entertainment of ladies is ex pensive?" "Ehu," lamented 10 R, "it is. It is!" "Very expensive?" "We are met," continued 10 R, "on a great battlefield of that war — Well, go on." "But could you," pursued the ele vator operator, "could you entertain on three dollars a week?" Three dollars, he added, was his weekly allowance for the social life. Voodoo VOODOO doctors do a thriving business in Chicago. We have checked up on seven such practitioners within eight blocks of each other, in the neighborhood of Thirty-fifth street and Michigan avenue. Colored maids declare that the near south side is replete with them. They serve not only the colored population but find many white clients. They specialize in removing spells. If a mother wants to make her runaway son stay at home, she may buy a charm for five dollars — or a dollar if she hasn't five. The picture of the run away is nailed, face down, under a carpet or rug, near the threshold of the door of the home. Then "spells" are pronounced night and morning. The boy will eventually come home, if he is not dead. When he comes home he must be told of the voodoo on him. He knows then that if he ever runs away again some dire misfortune will Members of the Book of the Month ^'uo convene in indignation to exfael a Harold BtV bright reader befall him. So he stays at home. The charm is said to be most effective. Almost any kind of sickness can be cured by the voodoos and many col ored people of the city, particularly of the housemaid class, will consult a doctor and follow his instructions but they will consult the voodoo woman also. The voodoos specialize in bone aches and muscle pains. Those ail ments, the housemaids will explain, are almost always caused by a curse laid by some enemy. The cure is to find the enemy and then by incantations and the use of photographs send the curse back to the giver. Until that is done, the ailment will linger in the body of the sufferer. Once a curse is sent back to the person who laid the spell, it will re main until death. An old man bent with rheumatism may well be that way because he laid the rheumatism on someone once, and then received it back again through a voodoo. Voodoos sell love charms, but few of the Chicago voodoo doctors offer to recover lost money. They advise their clients to consult physicians for their ailments, to receive treatment for their aches, but they assure the clients that a full cure can come only through voodoo. Cofi THE best dressed policeman in Chicago is Captain Charles Mc- Gurn of the Fillmore police station. He is also the best groomed policeman in the city — or at least no policeman is better groomed. His suits are tailor made and are always immaculate. Which may be one of the reasons why he is almost always addressed as "Sir" by those who pass, for one reason or another, before his desk. Yet his is "a hard district." He is one of the police captains who is changed about less than the average members of the force. Fly Coj> A YOUNG clerk in a banking and i investment house on LaSalle street developed a "detective mania." He read detective stories, subscribed to detective courses by mail, and even made friends with members of the city detective force, so that they took him with them on their work at nights. He tried to work out his own theories of every crime that drew the attention of the newspapers, and in the bank was continually turning his would-be detective powers to problems of the bank. His Hawkshaw tendencies final ly lost him his job. The bank officials discovered that he was of real use to them, created a new position for him, and now he is a sort of special officer for the bank — and is happy. Teafiot Tempest MARIE AGNES FOLEY, who manages the Jack and Jill thea> ter where children put on their own plays, announced the other evening to some of her patrons that she was pre paring a one act presentation of "Bel- phagor" by Nicollo Di Bernardo Dei Machiavelli. The Italian masterpiece concerns the adventures on earth of the devil, who came to ascertain the truth of the declarations made by so many men in hell that their wives sent them there. Shortly an attorney from a local firm, representing the Theater Guild of New York, called upon Miss Foley to tell her to stop that business right now, because the Guild owns all rights to "Man the Superman." (Sounds a little like a policeman telling a motorist that he can't left turn here because it's wrong to eat oysters in July.) Miss Foley explains it by saying that the library edition of "Man and Super man" contains a scene in which the devil does this and that on earth, al though producers never include the act in presentation. The point of absurdity seems to be that the New York Theater Guild should send attorneys running about in excitement over a casual re mark made by the director of one of Chicago's Little Theater enterprises. Miss Foley admits she thinks it a lot of fun. Pianist IN 1915 the pianist for the Bryn Mawr neighborhood cinema was ap proved by a harrassed management. The pianist had, in some fashion, charmed the small boy front row out of its fidgets — the distressful uneasiness of young customers who had come to shout through the comedy and riot through the feature on long Saturday afternoons and evenings. This pianist had come to know his lively patrons by name. He quieted altercations, played the music children wanted, sang to them, talked to them, chided them until they would rather hear the pianist, almost, than jiggle through a society drama. The Bryn Mawr became a kind of children's club in time. The nickelodeon pianist, Uncle Bob. Yes, tune the children in on KYW. Rafid Transit THE bus line designated as 58 goes north from the loop and along the western fringe of Lincoln Park until it joins the route taken by other north side busses at the far end of the park. It seems that by unanimous vote of the passengers the journey (during the evening exodus from the loop) may be altered to suit. "Any you folks wanta go Lincoln Park West?" asked the driver on a recent subzero occasion. "If not we'll 22 THE CHICAGOAN go straight through the park and get you home quicker." Such sympathetic initiative was greeted by a low rumble of pleased enthusiasm. A phrase or two of "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow" was struck up and juggled back and forth by the crowd. General radiance prevailed. One might draw weighty conclusions on the transit situation. However, everybody "got home quicker." More About Skiing EARL AAKER, in addition to be ing one of the star ski jumpers of this part of the country, is a struc tural steel worker. Recently he was working on the raw end of a steel beam on the forty-second floor of a new building. There was a cold, high wind blowing and Aaker lost his hold on the beam and began falling toward the street, forty-two floors below. At about the fortieth floor he caught his arm over a projection and so stopped his downward flight. In telling of the near-tragedy Aaker said, "And you know, as I hung there, I looked down at the street and for the first time in my life I almost got scared." Aaker is one of the champion ski jumpers of the Ogden Dunes Club. At the Cary meet he was one of the record makers. At a meet at the Og den Dunes Club Aaker once had a nasty spill. He went off on a trial jump. As he landed a spectator ran across the track and Aaker came down upon him, knocking the small witted one out and injuring his knee so badly that friends carried Aaker to the club house, where he was bathed and band aged. He was unable to take part in the meet, but within an hour or so After all, Willard, what is Florida when we can sit at home with our own oil burner?" had recovered sufficiently from the shock and pain to leave his couch and go back to the slide. There, before anyone knew what Aaker was doing, he had put on his skis, limping along on his swollen knee, and had climbed to take the jump again. He took it, too, and made a perfect leap of 150 feet, although he could not do the tele- mark to stop, but fell headlong and had to be carried off. His persistence is explained by a superstition held by all ski-jumpers that, if you spill on an attempted jump, you must go back and do the jump over again and do it right or bad luck will follow you and you'll be killed on your next jump, or spill and make bad jumps forever after. And another interesting fact about ski jumpers is that they must start learn ing the sport young. A veteran at Og den Dunes says that he has known but one champion who learned late in life. That exception did not take up the sport until he had reached the vener able age of fifteen years. Real skiers begin sometimes as young as three years old. Street Scene A TREMENDOUS van and a di minutive sports car brushed at the intersection of Oak Street and Michi gan Avenue. Both cars stopped. The truck driver, who was big, broad shoul dered and shirt sleeved, though the streets were icy, climbed down delib erately from his seat and strode with swinging fists to the sports car. A po liceman rushed toward the scene. Thrusting a jaw covered with a black stubble of beard into the face of the driver of the sports car, the truck driver glared for a long second and then said, in a rx>oming voice, "Tut, tut, my good fellow, tut, tut. Such driving and such language." Then he spat out a wad of tobacco, climbed back upon his truck and drove off. Neither the policeman nor the driver of the sports car uttered a word. Ojtrey WELL, well and well! This sort of thing seems to go on for ever. Here they are: "You lie! Who lies? You lie! Bang! Bang!" "I loved that little gal, podner." "And six more Redskins went to meet their Maker!" "Don't lie to your old father, Bes sie. I seen you take them diamonds!" "Shh! Mamma's here!" THE CHICAGOAN 23 CI4ICAGOAN/ Ernest Byfield By ROMOLA VOYNOW ONE remarks, "I had dinner with the Byfields last night" and one stimulates nonchalance, like as not, for the Byfields are something of an insti tution in Chicago — an institution on the way toward becoming a tradition. Part of the tradition is the Byfield custom of giving Chicago an air. And Ernest Byfield, present head of the clan, is meticulous in living up to the ancestral obligation. ERNEST is suave, sophisticated, given to epigram. He says for ex ample: "The site of my birth is oc cupied at present by a filling station." Follows the psychologically perfect pause; then, "which can surely be said to have a symbolic significance." He was born at 33 rd street and Calumet avenue. The number of schools he attended was somewhat lim ited by the number in existence, and his career had a hangup finale at Ar mour Technical Institute and Cornell University. At the latter (Ernest was 16 when he entered) the call of the gridiron found him out. "But the first day of football practice, I tackled the coach by mistake," he explains, and this little mishap sent him back to his textbooks on mechanical engineering resolved to devote his life to intellectual pursuits! ONE year of this, or these, proved ample and Ernest came home to apply the tenets of mechanical engi neering to the intricacies of running an ice plant. Even two universities hid failed to dim the pristine clarity of his brain, and while still a child, Ernest bore out the successful commercial traditions of his family; he sold the plant just in time to prevent its down fall at the hands of electrical refrigera tion. The time had come to install himself in an office in the Hotel Sherman. "I got the job without any pull," he modestly admits, "except that my father happened to own the place." There he remained until 1914. "That was the year I got married," he Ernest Byfield will tell you, "and the other great war broke out." He emerged from the latter a lieutenant (aircraft produc tion) and from the former a divorced man and this of very recent date. His interest in aviation was not new. It had its inception one day three years before when he went up in a Wright biplane. "My pilot broke the world's low altitude record, and a farmer paid us for clipping some acres of clover for him." But in 1926, when he was racing across the country to reach his dying mother, his pilot broke all speed records for the Salt Lake City-Los Angeles flight. In 1926, too, the death of his father resulted in his becoming president of the Hotel Sherman corporation. HIS residence is in one of their hotels, The Ambassador. "In a kind of a roadhouse on the eleventh floor." And if the number of visitors is any criterion, a roadhouse it is. Here gather some of our younger and blither "Who's Who-ers." Here con gregate visiting young dramatists from Broadway, and a good number of the scribes who supply caustic comment for the local press. So many of his friends are members of the theatrical profession that they elected Ernest to membership in the Lambs' club. In this roadhouse of his, he boasts the Byfield collection of dressing gowns probably unequaled this side of St. James palace. Here, too, is an amaz ing collection of mechanical toys. Here, also, Ernest's fondness for scenic wall paper has been given full play. Here, according to his own light admission, he boasts without much earnestness, he "continually drinks to excess." He is rather more temperate about polo; he plays, but certainly not to excess. Although he owns his ponies, he confesses with utmost candor that he can scarcely ever tell them apart. He has never been photographed feed ing his favorite mount a piece of sugar — and in this lies his principal polo distinction. His tennis is said to be good — pretty good. Golf he abom inates; the barest mention of the Scotch game sets him pleading for mercy. ON those occasions when Ernest is accused — wrongfully — of be longing to the intelligentsia, he retali ates by disavowing any interest in opera, which he never attends. Thea ter, he likes better; he is a regular sec- ond-nighter. His own College Inn and the Bal Tabarin he esteems more highly than a whole Salzburg Festival — and says so. Frequently. Yet twice he dabbled with the arts. The first time, he spent 1200 francs for tango lessons — and people promptly ceased to tango. The second, he at tended a French cooking school, and since has forgotten how to scramble eggs. Besides he would rather con tribute an epigram than an omelette to a banquet. Now cocktails .... 24 THE CHICAGOAN Above Artist Nat Karson depicts the swirl of the Town in revue and rehearsal, first night and closing. Ufyer center, Mitzi and the Lucille sisters. Ufifier right, Haidee Wright of the Royal Family. Directly below, Pauline Frederick. And across, Billy House, Gladys Baxter, Solly Ward and Violet Heming. THE CHICAGOAN 25 nThe STK G E Holding the Mirror Uji to Thesfiis PLAYS that sa tirize theatrical temperament and character are al most always effec tive, for the vanity of mummers, like the thrift of the Scotch, is one of the world's eternal jests. "The Royal Family," recently added to the hits of the town at the Harris, belongs to this species, and is one of the best. This sprightly, im pertinent comedy augments its value at the box-office by pretending to com mit lese-majesty; the victims of its charming mockery are real! Fancy that, Hedda! — as Professor Tesman said when his bored bride reached for the horse-pistol. There is nothing that the lay-public likes better in a work of the imagina tion than to find clues that will serve to identify the characters with flesh-and- blood. Hence there is great glee over the fact that the behaviorism of the footlight clan so amusingly depicted in "The Royal Family" can be checked, with a certain degree of accuracy, against the legend of our most patrician group of kindred players. One guess, everybody — who are these people in "The Royal Family"? Why, the Cavendishes, of course! Anyone could identify them at a glance. If all of them cannot be clearly labeled, at least Ethel Cavendish and John Cavendish are as plain as print. Why don't they get out an injunc tion, or something? This is the popular verdict, so let it ride. It is my opinion, however, that all this gossip is unimportant. The play's merits remain unchanged, whether it is taken as a humorous ex pose of the famous Cavendishes or is, in reality, a whimsical and kindly dis tortion of the life of a family, not un known in stage history, by the name of Blythe. They are a florid, somewhat rattle- pated gang, these Cavendishes, and their domesticity is always in a whirl pool of temperament. They are as tempestuous and eccentric as the mu sician tribe of "The Inconstant By CHARLES COLLINS Nymph," but much more elegant. They begin acting before breakfast. They occupy a duplex apartment chiefly because of its opportunities for balcony scenes. They are forever threatening to retire and then changing their minds — all except Grandma Cavendish, who is a trouper of the old school, determined to die in harness. Some of their speeches, when the heredity of grease-paint burns hot in their blood, have a stirring quality of professional sentimentality. In its species, "The Royal Family" is superlative. It is acted with eager spirit and gay adroitness. Haidee Wright, as the indomitable head of the clan; Ann Andrews as the glamorous meal-ticket of the home; Otto Kruger as the stormy petrel of the motion pic tures; and Penelope Hubbard, as the young charmer of the coming genera tion — here are performances which make the interpretation of this play a vivid delight. And Jefferson De Ange- lis, as the gentle old manager of this bewildering and enchanting brood — here is a character study so ripe and mellow that, without claiming that it is meant to be Charles Frohman, one can say, "Even if the Cavendishes do not exist, this is the real thing." Pinions from the Swan WHO says Shakespeare is dead? For a solid month he has made glorious summer of this, the winter of our coughs and sneezes; he has been much more alive than the entire mem bership of the Authors' League. Mr. Arliss started the revival with his suave "Merchant of Venice"; then came "Macbeth," tri-starred and strangely impressive with the scene designs of Gordon Craig; and finally the Strat- ford-Upon-Avon company, an authen tic priesthood from the very temple of the Bard, trooped in with a repertory of seven of the immortal tragedies, his tories and comedies. This has been more than a series of theatrical engage ments snatched from the grab-bag of the booking offices; it has been a festi val. People go off on European culture- hunting expeditions for less reason. It is worth noting that the Town has rallied to this orgy of the classic drama. Shakespeare, the manager, would have gloated over the traffic at the ticket- windows just as Shakespeare, the poet, would have devoured the applause at the act-ends. Even with "Diamond Lil" and a Ziegfeld show as competi tion, the Swan feathered his nest hand somely. Not with long, dolorous faces as to a civic duty; not with earnest, knitted brows as to an intellectual struggle; but blithely and expectantly, as if to a feast of the poetic passions, the customers arrived. Shakespeare dead in the theatre? — "He lives, he wakes— 'tis Death is dead, not he." The Stratford Company, on tour as representative of the Shakespeare Memorial Theater to which many Americans make over-seas pilgrimage, spread its generous repertory before us with dignity, authority and charm. Taken as a whole, this was the most satisfying course in Shakespeare that I have sat through since Benson came here, some fifteen years ago, with an other troupe of Stratfordians. I grant that there were no stars in the organi zation, but in view of their general competence, their essential rightness in every department, I did not find myself complaining about the absence of a Forbes-Robertson. These torch-bearers from the Birthplace knew their business thoroughly; and they gave the plays, moreover, as if they were alive, not por tentous exhumations. The company was stronger in its men than in its women, and therefore it evaded the great feminine roles, with the exception of Katherine The Shrew. But it gave us a "Hamlet" in which the King, an amazingly neglected char acter, was acted as well as the Prince of Denmark. This happy fact almost doubled the fascination of the great tragedy. After seeing Wilfred Walter as the luxurious and suspicious Clau dius, one yearned to match him against Lynn Harding in "Macbeth." And George Hayes, who had played a ser vant in "The Shrew" at the opening, gave us a Hamlet of much persuasive ness, with every aspect of the character well in balance; a Hamlet who brooded beautifully and flew off the handle with a high Elizabethan thrill. This was a Hamlet good enough for anyone, no 26 THE CHICAGOAN matter how many past greatnesses you may have seen in the role. Mr. Hayes also led the company in "Richard III," and was a lyric mon arch in "Henry IV" (first part) , while Mr. Walter impetuously carried off honors as the turbulent Rotspur. But these two leading men had serious com petition when Falstaff exhibited his vast, oft-mentioned entrails as the pal YOU H© if of Prince Hal and the would-be se ducer of Mistress Ford, in the person of Roy Byford. Memories of Otis Skinner's hoary rapscallion of the tav erns paled before this vigorous and lusty tub of lard. Mr. Byford was prime, also, as the First Grave Digger in "Hamlet," and as Bottom in "Mid summer Night's Dream." A certain Kenneth Wicksteed con tributed a Polonius to compare with any of them; and a certain Oliver Crombie stepped out in "Henry IV" with an Owen Glendower, the wild- eyed Welsh magician, that was a joy. The simplified settings revealed that Stratford is up to date in its decorative technique, as well as archaeologically accurate in its costuming. Altogether, these travelers from the Shrine-on- Avon were so able that they aroused in me a desire to pull up stakes, some spring when the bank-account is fat, and fol low the footsteps of William Winter and James O'Donnell Bennett to the Birthplace itself, there to enjoy the full ritual of the natal day, and thence to return, wearing the turban of a full- fledged Shakespearean hadji. Stofi-Gafi at the Goodman aN experimental theater cannot jus- /"\ tify itself unless it experiments, once in a while, with a new manuscript of native authorship. Hence "Lizard Gap," new at the Goodman but soon due for replacement by Ibsen's "When We Dead Awaken." But this thin little comedy, dealing with small-town life among the Okla homa oil fields in a dim, inexpert John Golden manner, is not a successful ex periment. It represents, for the Good man, a lapse into futility. Put its title on the wall of the Goodman's smoking room, where the record of the theater's development is enscrolled, and let it be forgotten. And let its author, in his next manuscript, strive to avoid the plot-cliches of rural comedy and work manfully at his manifest flair for back ground and local color. The full strength of the Goodman's company did not appear in this piece. Some new personalities of promise were observed. Mary Elizabeth Evans had personal charm as the leading woman; Roberta Louden hit off a comic character neatly; and Carl Cass and Thomas K. Fuson, as natives of the oil fields, seemed to know their stuff. The combination of southwestern drawl in dialogue and leisurely stage direction caused a deadly slow performance. THE CHICAGOAN 27 J he mo6t oriqina woman in Chicacjo society" N\T6. John Alden Carpenter /ietA a new vogue in humor PARIS . . New York . . London delight in her. Not only because of her talents. But also because of her never failing gaiety, her sparkle, her genuine love of fun and life. (or in>",ia O1** ¦ .. rfw" .k.ir .... «.m» •'*"» "i. *••""', ,,.,„•¦ »•"."• "..u to *• Her gay, light touch is evident in everything she does, from building a room to enchanting a visiting prince in conver- sation; from founding a club to planning a charity ball. Like many sophisticates, Mrs. Carpenter's choice in humor is whimsical . . . refreshing. "One of life's daily consolations," she says, "is Ted Cook's Cook-Coos in the Herald and Examiner. I'm devoted to his delightful humor. Nor do I ever miss Bughouse Fables. They're priceless ... I don't remember the name of the genius who does them, but he is a real wit." It all started with a bank president, who quoted a Cook- Coo poem at a North Shore dinner party. Someone fol lowed him up with a Bughouse Fable — and this new and popular game was born! Ted Cook's brilliant clowning — a travesty on all news paper columns, humorous and otherwise . . . A modern Aesop's picture-comments on human foibles, subtle because they're so obvious . . . Everyone's reading them now! See the column at the left for society's newest diversion — every morning in the Herald and Examiner. The incessant search for genius "Your search for talent must be incessant and sleepless." These are the instructions given editors of the Herald and Examiner. "Remember that if you can discover one new ma n or woman of talent to add to your staff, you have secured a continuing, per manent advantage or improvement run ning 365 days a year and worth much more than a news beat that lasts a day . . ." As a result one of the' most brilliant staffsof writers and cartoonists ever assem bled on a single newspaper, produces the contents of each day's Herald and Exam iner. You know them: Arthur Brisbane . . . James Weber Linn . . . John Lambert . . . O. O. Mclntyre . . . Fontaine Fox . . . John Held, Jr., and Lloyd Mayer . . . Glenn Dillard Gunn . . . Ashton Stevens . . . Ted Cook . . . Warren Brown . . . Bobby Jones . . . B. C. Forbes . . . Merryle Rukeseyer . . . Karl von Wiegand . . . these are but a few of-the many names which make this newspaper famous. And the anonymous writers who report the world's daily drama in the news col umns of the Herald and Examiner are the highest paid men and women in the news paper profession. This great staff provides more than 435,000 families with a newspaper full of interesting, wide-awake news, alert edi torial comment and pleasant mental recre ation every morning. If you are not familiar with it now, get a Herald and Examiner tomorrow. Enjoy it. You will make it a morning habit. 28 THE CHICAGOAN ggi i jp>- 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 charge. A highly diversified and different program each evening. ENTRANCE DIRECT OR THROUGH LOBBY MU/ICAL NOTE/ The Duo- Artists on Parade By ROBERT POLLAK OH, Mr. Maier? Y e s, Mr. Pattison. You played that last arpeggio very well. Tour antics on the \eys are well dc signed to please, and your Bach is just as good as your Ravel. Say, Mr. Pat tison? Yes, Mr. Mater. You certainly can run chromatic scales. We have earned the plaudits loud of this cheer* ful Sunday crowd. Don't you thin\ so, Mr. Pattison? Absolutely, Mr. Maier. ANGNA ENTERS sounds like the L title of a one-act play. As a matter of fact it belongs to a very beautiful lady of, we are given to un derstand, Scandinavian extraction who presented a program of episodes in dance form at the Arts Club on the night of February 3. Miss Enters' tal- ent as an actress is given the majority of opportunity in these episodes. She appears as a gawky, charming school' girl dawdling over her piano lesson, as a brisk cake-walker of 1897, as a simpering Neo-Grecian of the French Court, and as an ingenuous peasant girl in contra danse. Her gift, if we take it as a kind of super-vaudeville for high-brows only, is of no slight proportions. And in two moments of pantomime in which she recreated the stiffly naive and hieratical gestures of the old church paintings, she became an intensely real and moving spectacle. Kenneth Yost furnished excellent pian- istic background with musics of Johann Strauss, Debussy, Frescobaldi, Gretry, Beethoven and — yes, sir — John Phillip Sousa. ambiguous motto and is bridged at its center by a brief lento that would or dinarily be regarded as the slow move ment were the piece in the strict sonata form. It is probably the best epitome of the abstraction Anger in all the literature of the orchestra. Its moods of calm never last for long but give way to insistent threat and implacable warning. Couched in the idiom of Scriabin Miaskowsky's music neverthe less speaks its own mind. He stands certainly as one of the most striking of contemporaries. The Casella Concerto left, at least with this reporter, an impression of seriousness and dignity, qualities rather unusual for the Italian who is ordinarily witty, inquisitive and in clined to be precious. Szigeti, to whom the work was dedicated, was undoubt edly responsible in part. Besides being one of the most compelling of present- day interpreters he has a sympathy for the place of his instrument in con temporary composition that is, in our opinion, unsurpassed. This perform ance was perhaps one of those occa sions where the unadulterated magic of the interpreter prevents the listener from concentrating on the score. The Concerto remains a stirring albeit hazy memory. The rest of the instant program was bad, bad. Rubin Goldmark's Negro Rhapsody is, at best, good Chicago Theatre material. A patchwork of themes belonging to the colored race rather than to Mr. Goldmark strung together in the manner of the Balaban and Kat? school of orchestration. And then, two poems of Sibelius, "The Swan of Tuonela" and "Finlandia." Once the white hope of the frozen North Sibelius begins to go the way of Grieg and Tschaikowsky. His music rattles like stones in a tin can. Russians, Italians and Finns A Baritone of Baritones THE Seventeenth Program of the Chicago Symphony season brought a rehearing of the Miaskowsky Seventh Symphony and the appearance of that distinguished violinist Joseph Ssigeti as soloist in the Casella Concerto. Mias- kowsky's work, a free poem, is in geniously constructed upon a tonally THE Eighth Program of the Tues day Series, on Lincoln's Birthday was something to get completely inco herent about. The orchestra, in the first place, contributed the bread and meat of the Brahm's Third and the Rhine Journey from "Die Gotterdam- merung" and, for dessert, the skilful THE CHICAGOAN 29 and amusing suite, "Apina Stolen from the Dwarfs of the Mountain" and Marionette, written by Barbara Giur- anna, the wife of one of the conductors on the staff of the Chicago Civic Opera. At the invitation of Frederick Stock, who knows a very great singer when he hears one, Heinrich Schlus- nus, baritone, returned to Chicago as soloist in lieder of Schubert, Mahler, and Beethoven and an aria from Boro din's "Prince Igor." This is one of the grandest voices ever given to any man, a round, rich baritone, luscious in tex ture, perfectly controlled, ranging far and wide with ease and simplicity. But Schlusnus has more than a voice. He has that wide comprehension of vocal literature that enables him to proceed as intelligently with Leoncavallo as with Hugo Wolf. He achieves the proper mood as only a genius can; each song picture is as individual as an etch ing of Whistler or Forain. A Spanish Guitarist A BITING Sunday afternoon bring- k ing Segovia, virtuoso of the guitar, and the lank and gloomy Rach maninoff. Segovia, on his first Ameri can tour, gathered up the repertoire of the ancient lutenists and a modest bulk of composition done especially for him self and his friendly looking instru ment. The result is more pleasant than thrilling. Certainly no one could play the guitar any better. His Bach is richly contrapuntal. He runs brisk scales. The dry sound of the guitar is not unlike the harpsichord. But Rachmaninoff is playing the piano about a block away and it im mediately becomes evident why lute, harpsichord and guitar have slipped into comparative obsolescence. One of the greatest pianists of this or any gen eration, the dour Russian (known on Broadway as Blue Serge) demonstrates every possibility of the modern piano forte. Especially tickling were his own concert versions of Kreisler's Liebesfreud and Liebslied, both extraor dinarily difficult, both more Rach- maninoffian than Viennese. On popular demand by the Red Seal fans he played the w.k. prelude in C sharp minor. And how sick of it he must be! [NOTE: Chicago music, from Theodore Thomas to Ganna Walska and perhaps a bit beyond, is the subject of a special article by Mr. Pollak which will appear in the subsequent number of The Chicagoan. On every music rack in Town, March 9.] ©(ASCL^G^ A TRIPLE WARNING THERE are three places where nature sounds her warning in the combat with that harsh despoiler of loveliness, Neglect. The danger signs are a drooping underchin, a crepiness of throat and a deepening of lines at the corners of the eyes and mouth. Dorothy Gray discovered that Neglect will swiftly steal away a woman's youthful appearance, no matter how young she is in actual years. This is a needless tragedy. If you would retain — or regain — the youthful charm of a clear-cut chin-line and smooth, fresh skin, follow the simple scientific treatments which Dorothy Gray has evolved. These remarkably successful treatments are readily available to Chicago women ati the charming Dorothy Gray salon, 900 Michigan Avenue, North. Here, and at leading shops everywhere, you may obtain the Dorothy Gray preparations for your home use. Do drop in and let ws give you "Your Dowry of Beauty," a valuable booklet which clearly explains the Dorothy Gray method. DOROTHY ORAy 900 MICHIGAN AVENUE, NORTH Through the arched doorway of the Jarvis-Hunt Building Telephone Whitehall 5421 NEW YORK LOS ANGELES SAN FRANCISCO WASHINGTON ATLANTIC CITY O D. G. 1929 30 THE CHICAGOAN Will you wait in line or will you book in advance Will you chance to luck for steamer reservations, seats on the train, hotels, sightseeing and other travel essentials on your trip to Europe ? Or, will you step serenely aboard the ship to your stateroom with the knowledge that your trip has been expertly laid out from end to end— with steamer, rail, 'plane and hotel accommodations safely booked? Under the American Express In dependent Travel Plan an interesting itinerary is skilfully worked out on your ideas. Everything, down to the smallest detail, is arranged far in advance of the date you sail... thus eliminating disappointments, worries and delays. This perfected plan is fully de scribed in the new booklet, "The American Traveler in Europe". Send coupon for a copy to any American Express office or to the nearest ad dress below, and plan where to go, how to go and what best to see. 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 TAe ROVING REPORTER The Chicago Stadium — "Paddy Harmon* By FRANCIS C. COUGHLIN OFFICES of The Chicago Stadium Corporation in the Conway Building are refreshingly brisk and in formal. Not that business, and a great deal of business, is not transacted in these offices — but one is relieved to note an absence of the pooh-bah so often attendant on commercial man agement. Gentlemen enter and leave cheer fully, almost socially. Callers refer to the head of the firm as Paddy, and there are no frowns discharged by starched underlings at the blasphemer. Indeed, through an open office door Patrick T. Harmon, President, is plainly enough on view, today in a pearl gray hat which he wears at the presidential desk. (Literally, he has not had time to take it off.) And, most refreshingly, the frosted open door to the president's office is labelled only P. T. Harmon. Yet here is a $7,000,000 corporation. Audience with President Harmon is easily arranged. There is no formality. Simply, he sees a visitor in the recep tion room and says, "Come in." The visitor enters. President Harmon ex tends his hand with the quick pressure and single nudge of the old style hand shake and bids the visitor speak his mind. Whether the visitor speaks his mind or not, "Paddy" Harmon speaks his. It is, it appears, three weeks to the day from the Chicago Stadium open ing. An opening given over to the banker's track meet, on March 8. Fate willing, March 9 will see a champion ship boxing contest in the new arena. Even as he speaks "Paddy" Harmon turns to arrange a trip to Tulsa, Okla homa, there to sign Tommy Loughran to fight Mickey Walker. There is a six-day bike race the 16th. After that a circus plus the noted 101 Ranch. Some time between, Messrs .Miller and Cansaroni box themselves a contest. And over the 'phone, on another wire, "Paddy" Harmon offers to bet an un known caller a suit of clothes that the Stadium is filled on its first night. Things move rapidly, indeed, for Presi dent Harmon. w E speak of the stadium itself. Beside the stadium, it is plain to see, these other things are minutiae. "Paddy" moves with the quick, decep tive swiftness of a certain type of blocky physique. His mind moves swiftly, too. It hangs an instant on decision, on the proper word. Then it is off forcefully, quickly — like, the simile suggests itself — like a boxer's left lead. His voice is deep; it is curi ously high over the 'phone. "A $7,000,000 proposition," says "Paddy." His tone is not reverential. Men of the showman's blood do not reverence money. They use it as a useful and matter of fact gauge. The new stadium occupies a double block bounded by Madison, Wood, Lincoln and Warren Avenue. It is conveni- ently located on surface car, bus, and elevated lines. Though it is capable of expansion, its present capacity is 25,000—8,000 more than the crammed arena at Madison Square Garden. It will contain, besides a boxing arena, a 10 lap bicycle track, a hockey field and ample exposition and convention space. Its tremendous arched roof braced by 12 90-ton trusses, each 28 feet in depth and 266 feet long is a personal and intimate matter, as "Paddy" Har mon discusses it. Why, take a detail of the hockey field. Heretofore, hockey ice had to be twice frozen. A base of solid ice over the black water basin. Then an air space, infinitesimally thin, and a top coat of ice so that the field itself might be white against the black hockey puck. By providing a white tile flooring this second freezing is elimi nated. The solid ice clear to the base affords a much more satisfactory field for frantic skaters in the Canadian game. OR take the organ. The Stadium organ will be the most remark able in the world. Somehow, the ecclesiastical groan has been taken from the pipes. The new organ will be al together more sprightly and nimble than any organ yet projected. It will be placed in one of the giant trusses. Its music is first to be shot into a blending box, and the final, blended, tones released in the arena. Psycholo gists point with pride to the possibility of speeding up bike racers with prop- TI4E CHICAGOAN 31 erly emphasized music done to a lively beat. "Paddy" Harmon smiles. That lead got home. He shifts his offensive. After all, what will be the effect of the new stadium on boxing? Well, there are a number of con siderations. It is larger, of course, than Madison Square Garden. Chicago, in general, is the best fight town in the country. Look at the Dempsey-Tun- ney scrap. Particularly, too, consider the present social status of boxing. Glance, for example, at the member ship of the Chicago Stadium club. In sober truth, the membership might well be exchanged for a list of box-holders at the Civic Opera. Great Chicago names stand out as the list is read — they are the names, usually, of younger men of the noble houses along the Drive. These men, through membership in the Stadium Club, a membership which is offered only to subscribers of $2,500 or more toward stadium financ ing, are guaranteed ringside seats at all important bouts. Which means, in the end, that the old, tough ringside will be replaced by young and enthusiastic sportsmen. It is a significant arrange ment for boxing in Chicago. A mean ingful comment on the shrewdness and foresight of the man behind the stadium. "Paddy" Harmon smiles a quick, shrewd smile. He is a showman, a good one. He has the feel for his au dience. A type of mind which or ganizes and promotes. It files away in formation and has it ready for the quick mental finger which is to re-sort that file. He smokes quickly, too. Lit tle nervous puffs. One notes that he uses a cradle 'phone — and the cradle 'phone is somehow incongruous before his ruddy, pleasant face. "Over here," "Paddy" is suddenly on his feet, "over here is our publicity department. They have some interest ing material on file. You can check my figures. I may have forgotten one or two details." (He had not. The details were all painstakingly correct.) What the publicity people did have, however, was a list of officers. It con cludes this sketch. It is a certain guar antee of the business acumen of Pat rick T. Harmon who is giving up his dance hall interests, he thinks. The list of directors follows: CHICAGO STADIUM CORPORATION Patrick T. Harmon, President UTOPIA meaning of course, "his torical drama" (if -we retain our Greek)— willfce on tke air Marck Fourtk for tkose wko -will accept it. Brilliantly enacted* its vivid portrayal de pends upon its reception. Fortunately for you SwtUMMvUk Panatrope uvithRadiola can he trusted to convey the truest significance of tkelnaugurationtkrougk tonal perfection. Eager for important events* tnis masterful radio-pkono* grapk ackieves all tkat is wortky— wketker it is tke fidelity of tke kroadcast or tke precise re-creations of contemporary artists. Offered by E COMMONWEALTH EDISON f\ LECTRIC SHOP3 72 West Adams Street, Chicago Sidney N. Strotz, Sec. and Treas. Harold C. Strotz, Chairman. David Beaton, Jr., Insurance; Vin cent Bendix, President, Bendix Brake Corporation; Sheldon Clark, Vice- President, Sinclair Refining Co.; Ar thur W. Cutten, Capitalist; Charles E. Driver, Vice President, Blyth, Wit ter 6? Company; George W. Dulany, Jr., Chairman, Board of Trustees, G. W. Dulany, Trust; John F. Jelke, Jr., President, John F. Jelke Company; B. A. Masse, Vice President, Palmolive- Peet Company; John J. Mitchell, Illi nois Merchant Trust Company; James Norris, President Norris Grain Com pany; Guy M. Peters, Attorney, (Burry, Johnstone & Peters) ; L. Mon- tefiore Stein, Partner, Stein, Alstrin & Company; Clement Studebaker, Jr., President, Illinois Power & Light Cor poration; Orville J. Taylor, Attorney, (Taylor, Miller, Busch & Boyden). [NOTE : Mr. Coughlin's new series, "With Knife and Napkin Through Chicago," be gins appetizingly in the next issue of The Chicagoan.) 32 TI4£ CHICAGOAN Shoes of charm and finesse —with the deft sim plicity that only the aware designer can achieve ? t ? Small wonder ** shoes from Martin & Martin" is one of Chicago's smart traditions. Martin & Martin Shoes For Men and Women • iVeio York • Chicago 326 South Michigan ? Chicago rhe CWICACOCNNE What the Weather Man Doesn't Know By ARCYE WILL PERHAPS home cooking promised by many restaurants has been done to death, like the steak they serve, but despite the risk of being bhomidic, I contend the Black Oaks at 7631 Sheri dan Road — you know the Frank Wright "bungaloo," — affords just that. The meals are cooked to order and their specialty is Filet Mignon, Southern fried chicken and delicious creamed mushrooms, served nicely in home surroundings. $2.50 each, per and a person. Luncheon for $1.50 includes bridge for the afternoon with cards and score pads. In these cold days, for those whose pet sport this is, what could be sweeter than trumping your partner's ace while being toasted on the 'Other side by a glorious wood fire? There has at last been invented a machine for repairing the damages done to Mesdame's silk hose. These will shortly appear at the foremost de partment stores and will cut the price now charged at least in half. For a free demonstration— by appointment- gather unto you your saddest neglects and go to the State and Lake Bldg., Room 802. The Gotham Knitbac Co., which is a subsidiary of the Gotham Silk Hosiery Co., sponsor this. It seems to me that they are using a great deal more color in the summer clothes. Especially the three piece outfit which invariably has a contrast ing blouse. IN Mandel's Sport section, there is a crepe de chine three piece suit of rust and maroon glace, the skirt has flare pleats and the coat a scarf col lar. This also comes in maroon and turquoise and is very smart for an often-to-wear costume. The printed frocks are still much in view but in quite unusual designs. One of black, yellow and chartreuse, with the Vionnet yoke, split collar and pleated front, priced $19.75, would be good under a fur coat right now. The Quintet, five piece suit of feather weight tweed, check effect for $49.50, is a real buy for a traveler. Separate skirt on yoke. A sweater of the darkest shade in the tweed, and a crepe de chine blouse of a pale shade such as egg-shell with the green and string with the tan. This can be worn either inside or out and then a scarf with a modernistic design at the end to be worn with the coat. Dove and coral are the tones used in another three piece ensemble of sleeveless blouse with a Boulanger neck, bow tie and diagonal flare to the skirt. Price $39.50. All of these coats are about hip length and perfectly straight, much like a cardigan jacket. IN the dress section there are a great many black dresses, lots of them with a touch of burnt orange, and I hear there are to be hats to match, but, of all the difficult shades for the aver age person to wear, this takes the burnt, biscuit, so look honestly in the mirror before giving in to this fashion. MARTHA WETHERED, in the Drake, has a lovely yellow crepe with long sleeves trimmed with tan and green and a deeper green tweed coat to match. In the evening things, many simple pastel chiffons. One of peach bloom, and suggested to go with it a Rose satin cape, heavily shirred across the shoulders. Across the street, in the Misses' department can be found a lot of taffetas. Black and cream being very popular and smart Also dainty flowered ones for the afternoon and evening. Knitted dresses more elab orate than the ones seen at Franklin. Round neck with a side lacing is one very good style. At Fields Fashion Bureau is a lovely yarn coat, string color, with large round spots of orange, brown and yel low scattered irregularly on it. Dress to match of plain string crepe with the touch of color at neck and hem. A brown and cream figured long linen coat bound with brown grogram ribbon has a natural linen dress to complete the ensemble and is very good. Wash dresses jure unquestion ably the smartest, and the simpler the better. White as always is charming, es pecially when carried out in detail. A two piece crepe dress has a short white velveteen coat to go with it and is far smarter looking than just saying it sounds. THE CHICAGOAN 33 DESPITE all the reports and numer ous models now being shown, it seems that the poor old long suffering felt is still with us. White, flesh, and the soft tan shades the most popular. Most of them have a small brim often a bit longer on one side than the other and as usual, self trimmed or with a band of grogram. In the straws, Paramin combined with felt, Ballibuntal, Baku, and Sisol, coarser than Baku, otherwise the same, are the only ones mentioned. The Brown Hat Shop, Room 1044, Fields Annex, has some very smart models. Several for bridesmaids of Capeline felt with a large velvet bow, and their specialty is to match any frock perfectly, while still framing the face attractively and making you look likewise and not just wearing the smartest thing in town. George Hoppeman, Room 1034, same building, is the last word in hair dressers. A permanent for either long or short hair is $25. First hair cut, $5 and trims $2. Many smart people are his steady customers and are walk ing testimony of his genius for a be coming contour. He says "And still they come," so I guess the voters for nothing but long hair are a long way from being unanimous. Any of you having satin wood fur niture, I would advise using Vernax, sold by Vernay, 19 E. 54th St., N. Y. C. By rubbing thoroughly and often you may be able to prevent its crack ing or chipping which unfortunately happens in this climate. This wax is of course good for any other fine fur niture. Madam, Our Pardon (Note to Postmaster: How About This?) The Chicagoan : Is there any im portant reason why a subscriber to The Chicagoan must wait a week or so longer to receive his copy of the clever magazine than the newsstand customers? Every issue since I became a subscriber has reached me at least a few days later than I see it for sale on stands; and I am still minus the cur rent copy which I saw displayed Wednesday on newsstands. If I am to have it — I want it while it's new. Otherwise the snappy say ings which I pilfer therefrom are stale and limp when I spring them upon up-to-date Chicagoans. — Mrs. Leon Clarke, 7135 Euclid Ave., Chicago. When seeking entertainment do you pre fer to sit with people who laugh at the right time and cry inaudibly? Would you avoid the type of amusement that is, oh! so popu lar? Do you like distinct evidences of talent in performers? Do you like "talkies" that you can hear? If We Have Classified You Right, Read On! Then join the discriminating ones who have enjoyed Eddie Cantor, Leon Errol, Jack Oster- man, James Barton, Buster West, Gilda Gray, Trixie Friganza, and a host of other stars. Be among those who have discovered how to avoid "circuits," "New York units," and hinged ushers. And Further The dance? Why certainly — gorgeous ballet creations on the stage; costumes that recall that memorable night at the Folies Ber- gere. After the last stage performance every Friday night, you may dance in the lobby to the music of splendid orchestras. Where? Of course! MARKS BROS. GRANADA & M ARBRO Sheridan at Deron THEATRES Madison Street 4100 West v3/ (R« sJ It costs no more! Give your party where added to your own ingenuity and cleverness is an expert staff and special serv ice organized to help make your party a triumphant success. Here, too, is prestige — a truly French cuisine — and party rooms for 5 or 1000 guests — each an ideal getting. Give your party here — it costs no more! HOTEL SHORELAND Fifty-fifth Street at the Lake . . . Telephone Plaza lOOO 34 THE CHICAGOAN -^ GRAND ADVENTURE IN GOLF oCAlD out by Donald J. Ross on an inspir ing terrain that gave every natural advan tage; seasoned by ten years of constant play; comfortably playable 300 days a year; ser viced by a Club House complete to the last detail; praised by mast ers of the game; no other course is quite like Broadmoor ! Now another 18-hole course is being built, soon to be opened. In the Club House, a new $50,000 addition affords a gymnasium, game courts, lounges, a grill, kitchen, and ballroom. And right at the course is one of the world's truly fine hotels ! BROADMOOR COLORADO SPRINGS HOME OF THE FAMOUS AfANITOV SPARKLING WATERS ^ Always open. Write for complete ~ ^information; your questions will be answered NEWSPRINT Optimistic in the Main By EZRA BLOATED with the advertising incidental to the automobile show, triumphant an' nouncements by out-of'town news- papers of record years they had in 1928, practically every newspaper in the city has had that "healthy" feeling when picked off the newsstands during the past fort' night. In scanning through, all of them may not have contained as interesting reading matter as their weight promised but, all in all, the press of the city has improved during the past twelve months. More thought — and undoubt' edly more money — has been devoted to the editorial content of the newspapers in the last year than at any time in the previous five. The urge for "class circulation," as the phrase goes, has undoubtedly car' ried a great deal of weight. It is im' possible to attract the people as regU' lar readers with pu^les, prise guessing contests and boasts of the amount of advertising carried. They insist upon something, either entertaining or in' formative, to read. Confessions of wronged women and the genealogy of our prominent gunmen fail to lure them. EIGHTEEN months ago the lay press of the city was at pretty low ebb. The newspapers had become 100 per cent business institutions. The want ad solicitor was more important than the veteran reporter. Even the managing editors — but, we will pass that. This is not intended to be pathos. The pendulum is now swinging the other way. In the past twelve months four papers have made visible strides forward editorially, in the following order: the Herald'Examiner, the Jour' rial, the J^ews and the Post. The Tribune, aside from a promising spurt during the presidential campaign, has shown little change. The American is still the American — not quite so much so perhaps, but still the American. The Trib, with its big circulation and its notable advertising totals, ap' parently believes in leaving well'enough alone. The American seems to fill a place in the community — we have no tabloids — and it would probably be poor publishing sense to make any ex tensive changes. But the progress of the past year has been limited to the other four. EVEN without the addition of Ring Lardner and an intriguing new column by Ashton Stevens, the Exam' iner still would have to be commended for "snapping up" all the way through. It is more ably written and edited than ever before. Only two things remain to be done, and asking them would be like asking Henry Ford to change his radiator a few years ago. One would be keeping Opper off the front page, and the other would be a general re arrangement of the editorial page to make it a bit more adult. The advance of the Journal dates from its acquisition by Thomason. Al most immediately, it started ahead. Today, it is easiest to read of any of the evening newspapers. At the same rate of progress, it will be a great, in- stead of a merely good, newspaper in another year. A cartoonist, a crack writer, and a Teddy Linn could be added to advantage. And Cannon, now on the staff, dabbling with sports, may be able to supply the Linn. Improvement in the J<[ews appears largely a matter of editing and allow- ance of more space up front to its editorial department. The Mid' Week Section has been an important addi tion. The Post blossomed overnight into a surprisingly good paper, but seems to lack snap. It's nice — possibly a bit too nice — to be commercially successful. THE Tribune remains satisfied. Its circulation figures indicate that it has reason to be. It drops any sem blance of supplying the radio owners with information about any programs other than WGN. What of it? B. L. T. passed on; Ring Lardner and Percy Hammond moved to New York, and Mencken disappeared from the Sunday page. The figure still grows, and the advertising totals continue. The American — here's something in- teresting. On my desk, I have a book- TWE CHICAGOAN 35 let which measures about 25 by 18 inches. In it are reproduced advertise' ments the American printed during the past year as "a tribute to Chicago's achievements both cultural and spirit' ual." THE Journal's campaign for a big' ger police force apparently is to give the city 750 more coppers. This is a pretty fair achievement for any newspaper. The campaign was taken up by most of the other newspapers, civic organisations and important indi' viduals, but it was the Journal that started it. A SHTON STEVENS' new column m\ in the Examiner has sparkled from the start. With his wide acquaintance and his years in news' paper work, Stevens probably has enough anecdotes to keep his column interesting and attractive indefinitely. He adds to the mornings. PROBABLY no musical reviews in the last decade have been as widely read as those on the Ganna Walska concert. Not a newspaper critic in the city added to his reputation by his writing on this event and one or two shattered the illusions built around them. Poetic Acceptances Charles Hanson Towne Accents a Second-Hand Horticultural Estate Three days ago he offered me his farm, And I accepted in the quiet room That farm of blooming flowers' fair delight. There I shall be beyond the teeming world. There I shall love red sunsets and red barns, There daisies, buttercups and roses red, There crocuses and phlox and daisies send Their matchless scents all floating to the clouds. They're Gods own loveliness on this old earth. I love red sunsets, daisies and the rose, I love the drowsy bees and buttercups, So I accept with untrammeled joy The farm where I shall be with bees and Him. — DONALD PLANT. -H <*. <h B E S T V W O R D are the safest, sanest, most effective and rejuvenating way to Skin Beauty MILKY-WAY MASSAGE AND CLEANSING CREAM, the ALL PURPOSE CREAM, pure enough to eat (literally). 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Buy all sizes at Marshall Field 8C Company toilet counters Selected Beauty Shops in all parts of the city sell MILKY-WAY products and give *fcM!LKY WAY As\ us your nearest shop. to BEAUTY" FACIALS THE MILKY- WAY COMPANY 536 Lake Shore Drive Delaware 2572 For the Splendid Season— —a magazine exactly suited in viewpoint, touch and gusto to the exacting needs of a civilized reader during the crowded and critical months of March, April and May. "The Chicagoan " 407 So Dearborn St. Chicago, Illinois Send "The Chicagoan" one year, $3 — two years, $5. (I have encircled my choice as you will notice.) 7^{ame. Address. 36 THE CHICAGOAN Face Fashions for the South To be smart, the face that follows the sun must be in harmony with the tropic scene. And to be correct as well as smart, the face must bear the cachet of HELENA RUBINSTEIN. HELENA RUBINSTEIN has set a new standard in tropical make-up. Those chic enchanting gold-hued skins seen at Palm Beach and on the Riviera are of Rubinstein inspiration. A Helena Rubinstein creation is the "secret" — with Valaze Powder to match (3.00) — or the dusky exotic Huile Gypsie (5.00) with Valaze Powder in a harmonizing tone. Before you face southward, drop in at Helena Rubinstein's Salon and learn the technique of this fascinating make-up mode. Learn how to care properly for your skin under the tropic sun. PARIS LONDON 670 N. Michigan Avenue Chicago PALM BEACH — SUNSET BLDG. SUNSET BOULEVARD Helena Rubinstein Beauty Creations are ob tainable at better shops, or order direct from the Salons. HTie CINEMA Shhf — The Doctor s Secret By WILLIAM R. WEAVER TALKATIVE pictures of the fortnight add in' teresting data on the destiny of the cinema and the cinema goer. A little curiously, the cinema seems to be going one way and the cinema-goer another. Really a de- lightful development. Splendid. The Chicago theatre, just now dedi- cated exclusively to vocal villains and Roy Cropper, was the scene of "Inter- ference." It was also the scene of "The Doctors Secret." The two pic tures afford basis for various conclu sions. Both are adaptations of stage originals and both, of course, have been expurgated and amended more or less. Less, and this is one of the interesting aspects of the matter, than usual. "Interference," as Dr. Collins ob served after attending the stage original in a boulevard playhouse some weeks ago, is a well contrived and reasonably probable story concerning credible English folk of the better sort. The cinema transcription is creditably accomplished by Clive Brook, a British player imported and silenced in 1920 and now suddenly affluent thanks to the sharp rise in the inflection market, and by William Powell. Evelyn Brent, whose husband is a Hollywood execu tive, and another lady whose name I do not recall enunciate responses with out stammering. The picture is the first exhibited in Chicago which does not emanate guttural offstage music while the players are speaking. It is also quite good. The play has, of course, emotional situations. It has, also, a palpably par donable poisoning. Speeches explain everything, justify the homicide and promise restitution, but the censors — Chicago is one of the few cities that continue the maintenance of this nuisance — do not attend boulevard playhouses. Or, if they do, they feel certain that people who attend cinemas do not. For they compel the exhibition of the film to be interrupted during the ten seconds in which Mr. Powell pours cyanide into Miss Brent's wine glass. This is the play's grand gesture. Hap pily, subsequent speeches convey that information plainly and the point is saved. IN "The Doctor's Secret," too, there is plot material of the sort that not even Griffith succeeded in conveying silently to Chicagoans without cen sorial revision. In this play — perhaps you'll recall that Elsie Ferguson did it silently in 1920 and it's Barrie's "Half an Hour" by the present or any title — good actors proceed to enactment of the script much as they would proceed in the Studebaker, the Illinois or the Garrick. And they are good actors. Ruth Chatterton, H. B. Warner and Robert Edeson are the principals. The supporting cast also speaks English. Although the camera is shifted about occasionally, to achieve the varied viewpoint made habitual in twenty-five years of eye appeal, the action is cen tered in three settings corresponding exactly to the three acts of the drama. The point of divergence, the spot marked by cross denoting departure of the cinema-goer per se, is more clearly- discernible in the case of "The Doctor's Secret." The play opens with Miss Chatterton and her lover, who speaks but a few words and dies early, in an emotional exchange of confidences. The civilized world knows that Miss Chatterton does this sort of thing ad mirably. She does it in "The Doctor's Secret" as she does it at the Blackstone. But among the 5,000 citizens who view the scene in the Chicago theatre for seventy-five cents are some five hun dred who find it all a very funny busi ness. Miss Chatterton does not leap from a horse's back to her lover's neck as Ruth Roland would convey the emotion; she simply tells him she loves him but it cannot be or words to that effect. Giggles are her applause. For tunately, she does not hear. The play proceeds, and with com mendable alacrity, to the scene where in Miss Chatterton and Mr. Warner exchange unpleasantries presumably- common where the gentleman's money has bought the lady's hand, and the giggles multiply. Mr. Warner's gusty baritone, echoing a bit huskily in this vast auditorium but still a good radio THE CHICAGOAN 37 What about the water you serve ? ' I ^HE fastidious hostess would as ¦*- soon serve a dinner without a salad course as to serve bitter, cloudy water to her family or guests. So she serves Corinnis Waukesha Water serenely certain her hospital ity is above reproach. For Corinnis is always crystal-clear, always sparkling with purity and always delightful to taste. Due to its widespread popularity Corinnis Waukesha Water costs but a few cents a bottle. We deliver it to your door anywhere in Chicago and suburbs. Shipped anywhere in the United States. Why not order a case today? Particularly Important Use Corinnis Waukesha Water in your electric refrigerator for the freezing of your ice cubes. Corinnis ice cubes cool drinks without detracting from their delicate flavors. HINCKLEY & SCHMITT, Inc. 420 W. Ontario St. SUPerior 6543 Sold also at your neighborhood store orinm WAUKESHA WATER baritone, is extremely funny to the man and woman trained to weep when Pola Negri dons a black wrap or Greta Garbo doffs a white one. Obviously, they do not know the signals. Like the Californian whose epic stupidity was the year's best gridiron story, the cinema-goer races to the wrong goal and releases a good oldfashioned guf faw. Grave ushers patrol the aisles, threateningly. The players are undis turbed. THUS the paths of the so-called art and its myriad admirers part company. Players of ability can and will perform plays of merit for camera and microphone. People who care for players of ability and plays of merit will attend their exhibition. People who don't — and that, of course, in cludes the innumerable devotees of Balaban and Katz— will not. (Just what they will do I've no idea but I suspect they'll go radio.) And then, perhaps, there'll be a really good reason for conducting a department called "The Cinema" in a magazine like The Chicagoan. It seems too much to expect. Yes and No The Doctor's Secret: Divulged, favor ably, above. (I would.) Lucky Boy: George Jessel proves, loudly and repetitiously, that he is not Al Jolson. (I warn you.) Black Orchids: Greta Garbo in love, Java and little else. (Well, you know Greta.) Captain Lash: Victor McLaglen victim ized by Claire Windsor. (If you can pic' ture that.) 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.) y>>* "GIVE YOUR LITTLE BABY LOTS OF LOVIN'" "Give Your Little Baby Lots of Lovin'"— Some Fox Trot. And another peppy one, both by Abe Lyman and his California Orchestra "Won't You Tell Me, Hon?" 4175 "Caressing You" — Fox Trot with choruB by Eddy Thomas. Played by Meyer Davis' Swanee Syncopators— and another with vocal chorus by "Scrappy" Lambert "Don't Remind Me" 4179 "All by Yourself in the Moonlight" — Some Fox Trot with snappy rhythm! By the Colonial Club Orchestra and another fast one— "Monna Vanna" 4186 "The Monte Carlo Song" — Two swift, catchy numbers by the Yacht Club Boys "I'm Wild About Horns On Automobiles that go 'Ta-ta-ta-ta!'" 4188 Always something new on Brunswick Records There's new map, rhythm and pep in Brunswick Records PANATROPES-RADIOLAS RECORDS 38 TUE CHICAGOAN Booklite clips on the cover of your hook. Lights both pages perfectly without interfering with page turning. Weighs 3 os. Costs $3. Complete with standard Mazda bulb and 8 ft. silk cord. In a gamut of pleas ing colors. TRADE MARK The PersanaJ Reading Lamp is sold by dept. stores and the best book, gift and spe cialty shops. Be sure you get the genuine Book lite, scientifically made to safeguard the eyes. The remarkable popu larity of this light has encouraged inferior imitations. This trademark Y~> op. j. is your guarantee of tiyjOrWJl perfection. MELODEIITE CORPORATION 130 West 42nd Street New York Warren Piper will sail on the AQUITANIA on February twenty-eighth to visit our European agencies. While abroad he will personally select important additions for the collection of jewels carried by our establishments in New York and Chicago. WARREN PIPER & CO. ¦^ Diamond Importers 31 North State Street CHICAGO BOOK/ American and English Booh Totals By SUSAN WILBUR THE current is sue of the Publishers' Week ly announces the number of books that were pub lished during 1928. It comes to some thing over seven thousand. A count has also been made by some equally reliable English authority upon the number of books published during the year in England. This count comes to something over fourteen thousand. At first sight it looks simple. The Eng lish import our seven thousand and then write seven thousand more of their own. Second thoughts give trouble however. Point Counter Point and Elizabeth and Essex would get counted twice. Not to mention a dozen or two, or maybe a thousand or two more out of our seven thousand. And it doesn't look as though the 1929 count when it comes would be any less puzzling. Take the current fortnight for instance. One of its most important new novels is "Memoirs of a Fox-Hunting Man" by Siegfried Sassoon. Another is "The True Heart" by Sylvia Townsend Warner. From a practical viewpoint, "Mem oirs of a Fox-Hunting Man" is some thing that no Chicago paper chaser, or prospective paper chaser, or on the other hand no sedentary collector of hunting prints or reader of Surtees can afford to do without. For it is a full length picture of die real thing as it was just before the war. The story opens shortly before the hero gets his first pony, and follows him step by step, to the year when he has a stable of four horses and lives at the kennels with the master of a really exciting hunt. Apart from his groom, how ever, this hero might not have made very much of a horseman. In fact given some guide, philosopher, and friend as determined to make him do something that didn't take his feet off the nice safe ground and put them into stirrups, as that groom was to make him a horseman, and one feels that the story might have been different. Nonetheless, the very blunderingness of his discoveries about everything from how to tie a stock to how to run a point-to-point, makes the book not only very whimsical, but quite defin itely educational. I emphasize the practical side of "Memoirs of a Fox-Hunting Man." This is because I feel quite sure that any other reviews of it that you may read will be certain to mention nothing but the poetical side. Which is of course the most important one. IT will be harder however to find a practical side to "The True Heart." For what Sylvia Townsend Warner has written is simply a fairy tale that bumps into a lot of realities as it goes along — an orphan asylum, a farm in the marshes, another farm with seven children on it. Covent Garden Market in the early morning, and Buckingham Palace with Queen Victoria in it — and comes to an end which, surely, is quite contrary to eugenics. This is, by the way, an excellent summary of the contents of the book. Except that I ought perhaps to men tion that when asked if she doesn't recognize a disorderly house when she sees one, Sukey replies that she hadn't thought it polite to mention the order or disorder of a house that she hap pened to be drinking tea in. However, I realize that it may be a little mis leading to anyone not already familiar with Miss Warner's own particular way of studying psychological sim plicity and linking it to native heaths. ONE might have supposed that if Emil Ludwig had been going to the Mediterranean it would be to get a little rest. For since his Napoleon became a best seller in America some thing like two years ago we have had from his pen such an assortment of biographies — Bismarck, Goethe, Jesus Christ — as to give the effect of a very much overworked author. However it is perhaps only the translator who has been working overtime, and anyway when Ludwig went to the Mediter ranean, he apparently decided that his American readers needed the rest at least as much as he did. Hence "On Mediterranean Shores" just published by Little Brown and Company. There is of course not much that is new — from the tourist point of view — to be THE CHICAGOAN 39 Health First DRINK CHIPPEWA NATURAL SPRING WATER AT HOME OFFICE CLUB IT IS THE PUREST AND SOFTEST SPRING WATER IN THE WORLD Phone Roosevelt 2920 today Chippewa Spring Water Company of Chicago 1318 South Canal Street The one absolutely cer tain guarantee of the best theatre seats on the best theatrical aisles is the or der of those seats through Couthoui for tickets Branches at all the lead ing hotels and clubs. K said about these lands, and as Herr Ludwig refuses to say anything that isn't new, most of his chapters are rather short. Most of them however give the effect of being much to the point, and many a guide book bound traveler will relish the author's doubts concerning a variety of things — the color scheme of the Capri grottoes, the mural decorations of Stamboul tea- shops, the artistic merit of Egyptian gods with bird and animal heads. THE WHITE GIRL, by Vera Caspary. (J. H. Sears W Co.) $2. The story of a negro girl white enough to "pass." And of the more or less inevitable tragedy when she falls in love with a white man and has to face the possibility of his finding out the truth — supposing that she does not have the courage to tell him. The first part of the story is laid in Chicago, the latter part in New York. Miss Cas pary can write well and she knows her New York world of young self-sup porting and gold-digging females. But it is questionable whether her heroine would be quite as destitute of race pride as Miss Caspary makes her. Armchair Entertainment Noah's Cargo: Some Curious Chapters of Natural History, by George Jennison. With thirty-two full-page illustrations from ancient mss and woodcuts, from engravings and photographs. (The Mac- millan Company.) A learned and divert ing miscellany upon animal keeping and animal collecting from ancient Egypt to Barnum, not forgetting the price of gaselles in the time of Louis XIV. Written by the former head of the Zoological Gardens at Manchester (Eng land). Rag Opera, by Harlan Ware and James Prindle. (Bobbs Merrill.) A long- needed romance of the tent show in our own Middle West. Pa Holts pilots his repertoire troupe through the Kickapoo Valley for another anxious season. An authentic yarn of present day Rag Operas ably set down by two Chicago writers, one of whom spent this season •fulfilling the dubious duties of leading man in a similar company not so many years ago. Expiation, by Elizabeth. (Doubleday, Doran and Co.) It boils down to this: Is a sinful woman more likely to possess the Christian virtues than any number of virtuous women? Joseph and His Brethren, by H. W. Freeman. With an introduction by R. H. Mottram. (Henry Holt and Co.) Knut,, Hamsun's "Growth of the Soil" retold with observation and originality in terms of English soil — which is, by the WELL-KNOWN MEMBERS OF THE BETWEEN-THE-ACTS CLUB JACK MULHALL Starring In First National Pictures Between the appointments of a busy day this fine little cigar saves money. Between- the- Acts , ten short smokes in a handy pack age, real cigar quality, real Havana charm. BETWEEN THEACTS LITTLE CIGARS Smoke 10 and see . . . It's worth 15c to know how 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. THE CLARK CLUB 720 Rush Street Exclusive Residence for Girls Telephone Delaware 4607 A Veritable "Who's Who'' of polo stars is provided in the handicap lists now appearing in the current issues of POLO "The Magazine op the Game" QUIGLEY PUBLISHING CO. 407 South Dearborn street Chicago 40 THE CHICAGOAN Who go to Petrushka? Those who crave the original — the unusual — the superb — in en tertainment music cuisine. LUNCHEON V0w<?w\ DANCING DINNER EVERY SUPPER EVENING \mtm TELEPHONE DEAR BORN 4388 >M^LD Gowns Costumes— Wraps to Order 840 N. Michigan Ave. Telephone Superior 2092 A specialized service in choosing a school absolutely free of charge to you. For busy parents and Questioning hoys and girls reliable information about the kind of school desired Why select hurriedly when expert advice can be had by writing to , THE CHICAGO DAILY NEWS School and College Bureau Dept. P, IS N. Well* Street Chicago, Illinois way, a different thing from English "countryside." The Burning Ring, by Kay Burdekin. (William Morrow and Co.) A fairy tale for such grownups as don't like to be caught too often reading "Puck of Pook's Hill." American Beauty, by Arthur Meeker, Jr. (Covici, Friede.) A clever and en tertaining satire upon the assorted ex- patriates, titled and otherwise, who fre quent the French watering places in search of free board or munificent mar- riages. The Sealed Trunk, by Henry Kitchell Webster. (Bobbs-Merrill Company.) A Chicago mystery which pursues its breathless course, by taxi and elevated, through scenes that will be familiar to some people and not so familiar to others: dance halls, newspaper offices, studios, railway stations, and bungalows on top of hotels. The Spectacles of Dr. Cagliostro, by Harry Stephen Keeler. (E. P. Dutton and Co.) One of those mysteries that hold you to the very end, regardless of sleep, housekeeping, social engagements, or what have you. Prima Donna, by Pitts Sanborn. (Long' mans Green & Co.) People who think that opera singers are dumb will be sur prised! And those who think that genius is an infinite capacity for taking pains will be fortified in their idea. For here is the record of what a prima donna thinks about — off the stage and on; what she does — off the stage and on, at night as well as in the day time; and even a record of what she eats and drinks. And the man who reads the book may take it! as a warning to stay away from singers.; However, the book deserves to be taken seriously. ! A Voyage to the Island of the Arti-! coles, by Andre Maurois; translated by David Garnett; with wood engravings by Edward Carrick. (D. Appleton and Co.) j In his recent voyage to the Island of the Articoles, Andre Maurois, author of, "Ariel," "Disraeli," and so on, satirizes ' everything from solo voyages to author ' worship and Utopias in general. Some people say that artists ought not to havej anything to worry about. Others say that \ if they didn't have the wolf to spur them i they wouldn't be artists. But in the Island j of Articoles, it is found that when artists ¦ have nothing to worry about they have! also nothing to write about. Consequently ! a psychological museum is one of the characteristic features of the island. Amusing but by no means Wellsian. The Magic Island, by William B. Sea- brook. Illustrated by Alexander King. I (Harcourt, Brace.) I Haiti and voodoo. One of the most' dramatic and horror-inspiring stories that we have seen in some years, and it is not the mere detail that makes it horrible — it is the way the thing rings true. Mamba's Daughter, by Du Bose Heyward. (Doubleday, Doran.) February choice of one of the book clubs. Comedy and tragedy of the Porgy neighborhood and other sections of Charleston. Orientals (L'Aventure de Therese Beau- champs), by Francis de Miomandre. Translated by Ralph Roeder. Illustrated by Alexander Canedo. (Bretano's.) In America the older generation prides itself on its virtue, in Paris apparently it prides itself on its former ability to man' age things so that it didn't need to be virtuous. When Madame Larive sees a perfectly good Celestial going to waste in the person of Mr. Lung, her daugh ter's lodger, she reflects sadly that her own most foreign opportunity had been a man who was an Austrian on his moth er's side. Towers Along the Grass, by Ellen Du Poise Taylor. (Harper and Brothers.) Dakota, Chicago, Paris, Venice, shrewd observation, verbal fireworks, an inter national mystery — whose principal has a ruby-set gold tooth — and a heroine who specializes in the Petrarchian form of love. Society note: Mrs. Taylor, who now resides in Paris, is at the moment taking a week or two off to verify her impressions of Chicago. While the Bridegroom Tarried, by Edna Bryner. (E. P. Dutton and Company.) A perfectly good man wastes his lifc trying to solve the woman problem, which somehow at the crucial point always turns up triangles. The Dutton book of the month for January. Moussorgsky, by Oskar von Riesemann. Translated from the German by Paul England. (Alfred A. Knopf.) German thoroughness advantageously applied to the music of Moussorgsky and to the story of his life. Accident, by Arnold Bennett. (Doubleday Doran & Co.) $2.50. In which a slightly complacent father finds, through observation of his daughter- in-law and of an older married woman- both being fellow passengers on a wreck- interrupted railway journey — that women are really extraordinary creatures, and that if his own wife has sometimes failed to be interesting she is nevertheless much pleasanter to live with than a feminine volcano: even though, contradictorily enough the two feminine volcanoes of the book seem able to produce flowers as well as lava. The Nature of the Physical World. by A. S. Eddington. (The Macmillan Company.) $3.75. This is a fascinating and disturbing book. The author, one of the foremost astronomers of the present day gently apprises the reader of the fact that, de spite his title, science knows no physical world. Modern physics has become the measurement of certain phenomena and all its discoveries are simply "pointer readings" on various sorts of scale. But as to what is measured science knows nothing. Mr. Eddington thinks that the "what" is something mental — or as old- fashioned people say, spiritual. Incident ally he dismisses the idea of "determin ism" altogether — not only from the realm of psychology but from that of atoms. What we have hitherto called the uni formity of nature is merely a statistical uniformity. The book is written not only with authority but with wit. And In The Next Issue " ARTHUR MEEKER, JR.," an intimate word-picture of Arthur -£*• Meeker, Jr., by Arthur Meeker, Jr. "P|IRECT FROM THEODORE THOMAS," in which the -"-^ writer of "Direct from Brattleboro, Vt.," appraises Chi cago music, by Robert Pollak. 'HE CHICAGO RIDING CLUB," tenth article in a series on smart Chicago clubs, by Francis C. Coughlin. BOHEMIA ON PAPER," continuing a patient consideration of the near-North Side, by Samuel Putnam. "ltlARTIN J. QUIGLEY'S editorials, Charles Collins' play -!•"•¦• reviews, Susan Wilbur s literary comment, Arcye Will's fortnightly shopping report — and, of course, The Chicagoan's Town Talk, a suave survey of the civilized interests. M ARCH 9 is the newsstand date. Mail deliveries occur March 8. Subscriptions may be entered at the business offices,, fifteenth floor, 407 South Dearborn street. By tele phone—Harrison 0036. P AV (C K AV R D Packard has pioneered as in modem industry as earlier Americans in opening a western empire to progress Packard has ever looked beyond the boundaries of accepted practice to new horizons. A policy of pioneering research, established thirty years ago, has guided not only designing engineers, but those charged with the development of Packard manufacturing methods. Packard technicians have provided the specialized tools and machines, the new steels and the advanced processes for fabricating materials, which translate the original creative engineering into prac tical usefulness. Packard engineers have refined and im proved the famous straight-eight motor, with its nine-bearing crankshaft. They have perfected the new and unique Packard Shock Absorbing System. And Packard designers have enriched the fundamental beauty and distinction of Packard bodies. The latest refinements and improve ments which have added to Packard's supremacy in the fine car field are the natural result of a spirit never satisfied and an intent ever to excel. A S R III I M A N \V HO OWNS ONE Just the right note So many things are not quite right in this perplexing world, that a touch of authority is actually refreshing. . . . And that is why people of sensitive taste hold fast to Camels. That perfect blend strikes just the right note in the scale of cigarette enjoyment. © 1929, R. J. RcynolJ. Tobacco Company, Winston-Sale"1' #• '