October 26, 1929 Price 15 Cents I • R*Q. U. S. Pat. Off. , m w HERE'S WHAT YOU GET IN STUTZ OR IN TEN OTHER CARS COMBINED Each of ten well known makes of motor cars stresses one of these Stutz-Blackhawk features: Car l . . Scfety glass throughout Car a . . hour Speeds forward Car 3 . . Valve-in-head engine Car 4 . . Noback — holds car on hills Car 5 . . Twin Ignition Car 6 . . Double-Drop Frame Car 7 . . One-thrust Chassis Lubrication New Series Stutz and Blackhawk Cars, Car 8 . . Ryan-Lites Car 9 . . Overhead Camshaft still finer cars, at prices hitherto thought Cono .. Worm Drive impossible. This announcement has Among the major features found only on Stutz or Blackhawk are: l Low center of gravity a Feather touch brakes 3 Side-bumper steel running boards integral with frame changed the whole picture of values in the fine car field. These New Series Cars provide better riding quality, increased braking power on Stutz, still more liberal headroom, an even more impressive measure of performance-with-safety. Now, more than ever, it takes ten other cars to give you ten ofthe salient features of Stutz and Blackhawk. V E D Q U c}few <5erleA SAFETY STUTZ BLACKHAWK CARS STUTZ CHICAGO FACTORY BRANCH, J500 SO. MICHIGAN AVE., CHICAGO, ILL. The New Series Cars introduce a new note of artistry in interior design, an added smartness of line, finish and appointments. Values are by far the most attractive ever offered in the fine car field. Stutz-Blackhawk now presents four established lines of fine cars (46 body styles) at the following range of prices, f. o. b. factory: Blackhawk (127^ in. wheelbase) $1995 to $2735 Stutz Standard (134Kin.wheelbase)$2775to$3675 Stutz Custom (145 in. wheelbase) $3745 to $3995 Stutz Salon (145 in. wheelbase) $4595 to $lo,8oo INC. TUECUICAGOAN 1 the: MAN W H O O R II E R E D CHRISTMAS CARDS EARLY Personal Christmas Cards Now on Display ana Orders BeingTaHen for Engraving. First Floor, North, Wabash MARSHALL F I E V. O & C O M PA N Y TI4E CHICAGOAN STAGE Musical Comedy FOLLOW THRU— Apollo, 74 West Ran dolph. Central 8240. A lively and di verting musical romp in the Good News manner and concerned with the golf in dustry. It is well worth an evening and should run till Armistice Day. Curtain 8:1?. Sat and Wed. 2:15. HOLD EVERYTHING— Four Cohans, 119 N. Clarke. Central 8240. A lively and diverting musical romp, also in the Good News manner and this time concerned with legalized boxing and its performers. Prize fighting is not as funny as golf, the show isn't as funny as Follow Thru, which was not as funny as Good News! However — curtain 8:15. Sat. and Wed 2:15. BROADWAY NIGHTS— Majestic, 22 W. Monroe. Central 8240. A review in the Shubert manner, replacing the splen did American Opera Company's opera in English, lovingly reviewed by Robert Pollak on page 38. Curtain 8:15. Sat and Wed. 2:15 (the show, not Robert Pollak). SHOW BOAT— Illinois, 65 E. Jackson. Harrison 6510. Ziegfeld's tremendous hit profusely praised by Dr. Collins on page 30, this one did not overly tickle your observer. However, try it on your own ears. Curtain 8:15. Sat. and Wed 2:15. FIORETTA— Erlanger, 127 N. Clark State 2460. An Earl Carroll show, large and lavish about which the correspondent does agree with Mr. Collins on page 30. Curtain 8:20. Matinee Sat. only 2:20. Drama JOUKHETS 2ND— Adelphi, 11 N. Clark. Randolph 4466. A splendid war play glorifying the English gentleman and resolutely dug in for the winter. By all means. Curtam 8:30. Sat. and Wed. 2:30. THE KIHGDOM OF GOD— Harris, 170 N. Dearborn. Central 8240. Ethel Barrymore in an indefinite run, to be followed by THE LOVE DUEL. Charles Collins reviews the Kingdom on page 30. Curtain 8:30. Sat. and Wed. 2:30. No Sunday performance. FIRES OF SPRING— Cort, 132 N. Dear born. Central 0019. Eugenie Leonto- vich in a sprightly vehicle, also reviewed on page 30. Curtain 8:30. Sat. and Wed. 2:30. ROMEO AHD JULIET— Goodman Me morial, Lake front at Monroe. Central 7085. The Goodman players do an ex cellent job of Shakespeare. See also Dr. Collins' remarks on page 30. Curtain 8:30. Matinee Friday only. No Sunday performance. "THE CHICAGOAN" PRESENTS— Football, by Nat Karson Cover Current Entertainment Page 2 Dinner and After Dark 4 Editorially 9 The Municipal Follies, by Francis C. Coughlin 11 The Black Horse Troop 14 Grand Italian Opera, by Romola Voynow 15 O, The Brave Little Theater, by Fanny Butcher 17 Logic, by Alan Dunn 18 Lloyd Lewis — Chicagoan, by Henry Justin Smith 19 Town Talk 21 Show Boat, by Karson 23 Suggested Civic Emprise, by Sandor 24-25 The Stage, by Charles Collins 30 The Cinema, by William R. Weaver.. 34 Music, by Robert Pollak 38 The Chicagoenne, by Lucia Lewis.... 40 Go, Chicago, by Marcia Vaughn 42 Books, by Susan Wilbur 44 THE ]ADE GOD— Playhouse, 410 S. Michigan. Harrison 2300. A thriller out of the hair-raising Orient and ade quately cold, too. Well, if you like to be scared. Curtain 8:30. Sat. and Wed. 2:30. NEW YORK THEATER GUILD— Black- stone, 60 E. 7th. Harrison 6609. Ma jor Barbara, after Bernard Shaw occupies these boards until November 4, when it gives way to O'Neill's Strange Interlude November 25. Curtain 8:30. Sat. and Wed. 2:30. SIGJi X-Y-Z— Studebaker, 410 S. Michi gan. Harrison 2792. An exciting show well worth attending and authorized by George M. Cohan. Curtain 8:30. Sat. and Wed. 2:30. To close soon. PARIS— Selwyn, 180 N. Dearborn. Cen tral 3404. Irene Bordoni in what is described as a music comedy. To be reviewed. MY GIRL FRIDAY— Garrick, 64 W. Ran dolph. Central 8240. Doings which are new to this observer and which will not be revealed until after press time. To be reviewed. CINEMA [See daily papers for whereabouts; page 34 for more copious comment.'} MARIANNE — Marion Davies' first talk ing picture and perhaps the best musi cal comedy recording to date. THE LOVE DOCTOR— Richard Dix stuffs a lot of laughs into an ancient comedy plot. JEALOUS1: Jeanne Eagel's last words, reviewed at length in this issue. THE UNHOLY NIGHT: Roland Young and innumerable others in the most en gaging mystery play to date. SAY IT WITH SOHGS: A terrible story sung and lisped to success by Al Jolson and Davey Lee. BULLDOG DRUMMOHD: Ronald^ Col- man's first talking-picture and you'll be surprised. THE LADY LIES: The censors did their best, but it's still a pretty good picture. IN THE HEADLIHES: Grant Withers in the year's best newspaper story. FAST LIFE: Chester Morris gives a sterling portrayal in a not so sterling murder story. HER PRIVATE LIFE: Billie Dove does as well as could be expected in fact better, with Ethel Barrymore's Declasse. CONCERTS Galli Curci, recital, Orchestra Hall, Oc tober 20, 3:30 p. m. Lee Pattison, piano recital, Studebaker Theater, October 20, 3:30. Marie Morrisey, recital, Orchestra Hall, October 20, 8:15. [continued on page 4] The Chicagoan Martin J. Quigley, Publisher and Editor; W. R. Weaver, Managing Editor; published fortnightly by The Chicagoan Publish ing Co., 407 South Dearborn St. Chicago, 111. New York Office: 565 Fifth Ave. Los Angeles Office: 1605 North Cahuenga St. Pacific Coast Advertis ing Representatives — Simpson-Rifey, Union Oil Building, Los Angeles; Russ Building, San Francisco. Subscription $3.00 annually; single copies 15c. Vol VIII No 3 Oct 26 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 3 ^IVtiss Edith .M.ason oj the Cshicago Csivic Opera Lsompany wearing a Jratou model made expressly for Jn in the Jrearlie .Powell workrooms ler Photo by De Gueldre 320 MICHIGAN AVENUE, NORTH PEARLIE- POWELL 4 TW£ CHICAGOAN [listings begin on page 2] Vincenzo Celli, Premier Danser at La Scala, Milan, Orchestra Hall, October 27. Sole American appearance. Naomi Hewitt, cellist, Studebaker Thea ter, October 27, 3:30. Chicago debut. Grace Freeman, violinist, Playhouse, October 27, 3:30. The Whitney Trio, sole chamber music concert for the season, Kimball Hall, Octo ber 30, 8:1?. Margaret Conrad, violinist, Ruth Tegt- meyer, pianist, joint recital Kimball Hall, October 30, 8:15. TABLES Downtown BLACKSTONE HOTEL— 656 S. Michi gan. Harrison 4300. A hostelry de servedly known as a high point in local civilization. A splendid dinner to Mar- graff's band, superb service and genuine atmosphere of the authentic boulevard. August Dittrich is maitre d 'hotel. STEVEHS HOTEL—HO S. Michigan. Wabash 4400. A tremendous establish ment, yet smoothly brought to focus on the individual's needs. A wise luncheon choice. Doc Davis's band for dancing. Stalder is headwaiter. CONGRESS HOTEL— Congress at Michi gan. Harrison 3800. A mild show place rather dashingly conducted and famous for Peacock Alley and the Balloon Room, with Johnny Hamp's knowing band. Ray Barrette is headwaiter. PALMER HOUSE— State at Monroe. Ran dolph 7500. A gracious inn admirably centered in .the Town, The Palmer House offers a good table and a refreshingly good hotel orchestra. Muller is maitre d'hotel. PETRUSHKA CLUB 165 N. Michigan. Dearborn 4388. A night club in the Russian manner frequented by the people whose names are genuinely news. Kinsky is chief servitor. Khmara is master of ceremonies. All in all the best of down town places for a night of it. COLLEGE INN— Hotel Sherman. The ir repressible Gene Byfield is hereby invited to contribute, in his own inimitable style, a line of guidance to this historic tavern which line we shall undertake to print here next issue. Lloyd Huntley's band. Braun is headwaiter. ST. HUBERT'S OLD EHGLISH GRILL —316 Federal. Wabash 0770. The splendid victuals of Albion are here served up impeccably in a most soothing atmosphere. A notable luncheon choice. KAU'S— 127 S. Wells. Dearborn 4028. The lunching place of LaSalle Street notables, who are as meticulous in secur ing sound dining as they are in selecting sound investments. MAILLARD'S— 308 S. Michigan. A mod erately snooty luncheon in good sur roundings and with alert people, Mail- lard's is a very adequate noontime jaunt. SCHLOGL'S—7,1 N. Wells. A restaurant noted for its literary flavor and not less worthy for fifty years of excellent vic- tualry. A show place. Richard is the waiter. BREVOORT HOTEL— 120 W. Madison. Franklin 2363. American foods are here prepared in state to make a brave con test before the diner waves a parting napkin. Sandrock is maitre d'hotel. TIP TOP INN— 206 S. Michigan Blvd. Harrison 2628. A Pullman Building haven overlooking the Institute and Lake Michigan and overlooking nothing at all in food, comfort, atmosphere, service. Mons. Hieronymus is proprietor. COFFEE DAN'S— Dearborn at Randolph. Billed as "The Original Coffee Dan's — which is news indeed, if true — this night restaurant packs them in on Randolph street. It is loud, with hammers to pound on the tables, informal, attended by all grades of celebrities, very hey-hey and reasonably priced. South CAFE LOUISIAHE— 1341 S. Michigan. Michigan 1837. Creole dining most elaborately presented at a knowing board all under the eye of Mons. Max, who is headwaiter, or Mons. Gaston, who is high priest and strolling philosopher amid the tables. One should consult these gentlemen before ordering a meal, prefer ably some hours before. It is grand PLEASURE INN— 231 E. 3 5th. A show place in Chicago night life presided over by a Gloria Swanson. Well, if you like that sort of thing. GRANADA CAFE— 6800 Cottage Grove. Hyde Park 0646. Ted Weems' band gives rhythm to a young dancing crowd far out South. Any time a satisfactory evening. North LAKESHORE DRIVE HOTEL— 181 Lakeshore Drive. Superior 8500. A suave and fashionable inn, entirely of the Gold Coast, well served, the best people, magnificent accommodations. DRAKE HOTEL— Lakeshore Drive at the Boulevard. Superior 2200. Largest of the class inns and an extremely civilized place to dine and dance any evening. Jack Chapman's band. Peter Ferris is headwaiter. EDGEWATER BEACH HOTEL— 5300 North at the Lake. Long Beach 6000. A very wholesomely conducted retreat for the diner and dancer pleased with a tune ful evening in the company of nice peo ple. Ted Fiorito's band is good. Service is adequate. Wildenhus is headwaiter. BELMOHT HOTEL— 3156 Sheridan Road. Bittersweet 2100. The Belmont is here mentioned as an extremely comforting kitchen handy to the mid-north side. Service is good. No dancing. THE GREEK MILL— 4806 Broadway. Sunnyside 3400. A large and late danc ing place with a lavish show, good music, good people. And reasonably priced. Vern Buck's band. Ralph Burke is head- waiter. VANITY FAIR— 803 Grace. Buckingham 3254. A modest enough place, but open until all sorts of ungodly hours. Fair entertaining. Keith Beecher's band. John Conroy is headwaiter. CLUB AMBASSADEUR—226 E. Ontario. Delaware 0930. A late and wakeful club with music, merry-making, handsome hostesses and a knowing clientelle under the smooth hand of Danny Barone. Ernie Hales is headwaiter. CLUB ALABAM— 747 Rush. Delaware 3260. Wakeful too in a Southern en vironment with a more lively dancing crowd than is ordinary in genuine night places. Southern and Chinese cooking, Hawaiian entertainers; hostesses also, and a break for anybody. Gene Harris is headwaiter. Eddie Jackson's band. KELLY'S STABLES— Rush at Austin. Delaware 2141. The very loudest night club habitually avoided by this observer, Kelly's is nevertheless a big time for a lot of people, most of whom you haven't met. It is late, lively, informal, cheap. Also it is a show place. John Dodd's band. Johnny Makeley is headwaiter. LAIGLON— 22 E. Ontario. Delaware 1909. A French parlor of delicates much attended these days and very well seen to in the kitchen. It is enlivened by a so-so band. It is furnished with private dining rooms. And altogether it is a good idea. Mons. Teddy is in charge. JIM IRELAND'S OYSTER HOUSE— 632 N. Clark. The business of this place is to furnish and prepare sea foods. It does so to great applause every night until 4:00 A. M. Jim Ireland usually oversees in person. JULIENS— 1009 N. Rush. Delaware 4341. An academy of the frog leg and scallop unsurpassed in the administration of these dishes. Tremendous portions served ad lib. Mama Julien oversees. Starting time 6:30 sharp. Telephone for reserva tions. ROCOCO TEA ROOM— 161 E. Ohio. Delaware 1242. A Swedish parlor offer ing the resolute and succulent Nordic herring in astonishing variety together with very notable groceries no less resolute. TURKISH VILLAGE— 606 N. Clark. Delaware 1456. A rousing place any time after 11:00 P. M., and not too doggone refined. THE RED STAR INN— 1?28 N. Clark. Delaware 3942. A German lyceum, eye taking and breath taking, in charge of Papa Gallaur, sponsor to enumerable Teutonic astonishers. GRAYLINGS— 410 N. Michigan. A luncheon choice moderately exclusive and well patronized by good people. It is more to feminine than to masculine taste, perhaps. LE PETIT GOURMET— 615 N. Michigan. A luncheon and dinner place well patron ized by superior people and something of a show spot. It too is perhaps more feminine than masculine. THE CHICAGOAN 5 In^epossesslncL proposition 9 A youthful shawl collar of racoon accentuates the smartness of this tweed sport coat, satin lined to match. In com binations of tan, brown and white, $135. And in the two-piece dress of wool crepe there is the flared skirt, the unusual yoke line and the detachable vest of Canton crepe to typify the versatility and effort less chic of the things of Peck & Peck. In Autumn's newest shades, $45. Off the face felt hat with shallow crown and brim pleated and tucked, $15. 38-40 Michigan Ave., South 946 North Michigan Blvd. IHf CHICAGOAN •3^1 IzlmlJir^Hi mm THE VINYARD 55-FOOT CRUISER ONE of the staunchest vessels of her size aftoat. Built with integrity and painstaking care, by a family of long-established boat builders to last a life-time. • Those who have earned the right to leisure, with the means to enjoy moderate, restful travel and accustomed to conveniences and se curity, do well to investigate these cruisers. • Twin 115-145 H.P. STERLING Petrel, medium speed laoo to 1500 revolution engines quietly and lastingly do their work with fuel economy and a minimum of attention. The speed is twelve miles. ONE FEATURE SERVES A DUAL PURPOSE • ¦ • Twin Carburetors, a feature of the six- cylinder Sterlings for years, are equipped with a form of check valve as a safety. Ingeniously ventilating the crankcase, oily vapor is drawn up through the car buretors, lubricating the valve stems and preventing sticking valves. • Many other details have been successfully developed, that the engines may better serve you. STERLING ENGINE COMPANY BUFFALO, NEW YORK THE CHICAGOAN 7 • PEAMLS! the fashion that centuries cannot changed Pearls for centuries nave" been identified with beautiful women, and they preserve to this day undisputed pre-emi nence as the jewel par excellence of beauty, birth, and breed ing. They are forever in fashion as the one ornament that never fails to add to the sum total of a woman s attractions. That is, provided they are genuine Orientals or Teclas. Tecla Pearl Necklaces from $25 up Created in our Paris Laboratories 22 S. Michigan Ave., Chicago 398 Fifth Avenue, New York LONDON BERLIN Tecla Pearls, Sapphires, Rubies ami I', me raids in indivultial mountings for rings, bracelets, studs ami earrings 8 THE CHICAGOAN THE SALOh OF WOLOCK & BAUER cuon AS. vJpigina supremely cnic! featuring a Koh-i-noor Jewel Clasj) One of the Salon's most distinctive Afternoon Slibbers . . . fashioned of Moire and Satin . . . and bijbed in Gold Kid. A Salon Sandal of excjuisite beauty and smart sophistication. WHITE MOIRE BLACK MOIRE — or tinted in any lovely shade that you brefer Twenty-four- fifty COOLOCJU B A U G R MICHIGAN Ave NU6 M A D I / O N o> CHICAGOAN THE dedication of the Civic Opera House, whose exultant architec- ture has brought soaring romance to the western portal of the Loop at Madison Street, is an event in which The Chicagoan takes the pride of a native son. Match it, if you can, anywhere in the world. There are many great opera houses that are noble shrines for the musical pilgrim, and each is a flowering of the civilisation it represents. From Gamier s masterpiece, dominating the boulevards in Paris, to the Spanish-Ameri can flamboyance of the National in Mexico City, they form an impressive series of temples devoted to the glory of the human voice. They were all studied in the work of preparation for this enrichment of Chicago's artistic life, but none of them were imitated. The Civic Opera House is purely Chicagoesque, and therefore unique. Three years were spent in the fulfillment of this splen did dream. Mr. Insull, to whom congratulations are espe cially in order, concentrated the energies of experts in every field related to the problem, and urged them to the task like an inspired leader. The work is finished; the master- builders have taken away their tools; the shrine is swept and garnished for the coming of the Muse. Now let the artists enter and begin their magic! Overture! And then — "Ridi, pagliaccio!" ? THE appearance of a new edition of Kirk's hand-book of Chicago maps suggests the need of an oflicial map which will give the regional names and boundaries of the various neighborhoods and districts out of which the vast tapestry of this city has been woven. These names have value even when the identity of the region has become submerged. They enrich the background of civic life; they keep alive echoes of past generations; and they are useful for the quick location of any address. Wards, precincts, police zones and other arbitrary divi sions of a municipality have value for administrative pur poses, but they mean nothing to the imaginations of the people. It is the place-names, almost never marked on the maps, that encourage the house-holder or flat-dweller to believe that he lives in a district with a character of its own. The names that dapple the geography of London or Paris, most of them centuries old, carry a kind of poetry which defies such oflicial markers as W. C. 1 or 8me arrondissement. Charing Cross, Limehouse, Holborn, Bethnal Green — Montmarte, Faubourg St. Germain, Mont- parnasse, the Marais— names such as these are undying parts of the somber epic that is London and the stirring pageant that is Paris. Chicago, too, has its litany of place-names that should not be permitted to fade out of its life. Some of them are strong and persistent — the names of the great old suburbs: Hyde Park, Englewood, Ravenswood, Edgewater. Others have less vitality and are perishing — the names of cross roads or petty villages that stood in the tide of annexa- Editorially tion : Oakland, Douglas, Wicker Park, Bowmanville, and their numerous kind. They should all be mapped and pre served in the records. Their memories should be kept green by city ordinance. We cannot depend forever upon tele phone exchanges, old citizens'1 memories, and street corner shop-windows to save these pleasant and useful names from the standardising processes of American life. ? FLAG-POLE sitting is a gentle monomania, harmful to none but the patient. It puts a dash of grotesque humor into the commonplaceness of the down-town lunch hour. Therefore the flag-pole birds may roost as long as they please, without remonstrance from us. But tight-rope walking across the dizzy abysses of the Loop is an active and dangerous lunacy, highly disturbing to the bystanders. It causes cold shivers, goose flesh, angina pectoris, and the sickening sensation of falling down an elevator shaft. The recent exhibition by a professional dare-devil on a cable stretched between the Union Carbide Building and the Mather Tower, 240 feet above the street-level, was an unfathomable folly. For some obscure and trivial purpose — to advertise something for sale or to embellish a film melo drama — this adventurer was encouraged to submit Chicago to the chance of a sickening tragedy. He may be admired for his skill and intrepidity, but his sponsors and abettors should be furiously hissed. Three parties to this irresponsible episode, which wagered a life against the caprice of our fickle winds, are open to direct criticism. They are the managements of the build ings upon which the cable was mounted and the authorities who sanctioned the performance. The fact that no harm came of it does not relieve them from the charge of in ferior citizenship. They co-operated in an exploit which brought the dignity of a metropolis, for one afternoon, down to the cheap level of a county fair. ? FOUR ghastly prison mutinies within two months, cul minating with the horror at Canon City, Colorado, give the criminologists something new to think about. The scientific mind cannot fail to search for some relation ship between these savage disasters. To assume that the first riot, at Dannemora, touched off "a fuse of mob-hysteria is merely to evade the issue. On the other hand, an assumption that these similar outbreaks represent plotting by organised powers of the underworld may be going too far into the realm of melodrama. This much, however, is certain: These prison tragedies have happened in the tenth year of the Noble Experiment, which was guaranteed by its sponsors to empty our prisons. Instead of which, we find them so overcrowded that their exasperated inmates are running amuck. Prohibition, we fear, must accept some of the responsibility for this epi demic of riot, arson and massacre. 10 THE CHICAGOAN -L.AV11.N UJb • . • a new perfume! Made expressly for Saks-Fifth Avenue hy one 01 the most skilled parfumeurs in all Europe . . . with the subtle difference that gives it real importance. Small size, 15.Q0 Large size, 25.00 SAKS- FIFTH AVENUE CHICAGO THE CHICAGOAN n The Municipal Follies A Home Talent Mmtstrel Production By FRANCIS C. COUGHLIN ACT I (The rising curtain reveals a bac\ drop painted to represent the City Hall. The cast is stupendously expensive and too numerous to be mentioned here. On stage, as the curtain rises, Sambo, a gentleman of color, is discovered lolling before the municipal facade. Enter the Interlocutor.) Interlocutor: Good morning, Sambo. Sambo : Good morning, Mr. Inter locutor. Interlocutor : What are you doing around here, Sambo? Sambo : You mean whadda I do around here? Inter- LOCUTOR: Yes, what do you do around here? Sambo : Why I work here. Inter- LOCUTOR : Oh, you work here Sambo : Yes, Sah, I'm at work this minute for the City Hall. Interlocutor: How come you work for the City Hall? Sambo : Well, you remember that slogan: "Think for Chicago and vote for Dever?" (Chuc\les.) Heh, Heh, Heh! Well, I thought for Chicago, but I ain't savin' how I voted. Made me up a song about it. Interlocutor: Made you up a song? Can you sing it? Sambo : Sure can, Mr. Interlocutor (Does a few dance steps.) Interlocutor: Then sing it, boy. Don't keep all these people waiting. Sambo sings: Air, My Son Joshua. Ah'm just a little black boy Up from New Orleans Ah neveh had much fun Nor money in mah old jeans, Neveh got to go near Any old ballot box 'Til Ah thought for Chicago An' it got me to de gold rocks! (Shuffle and buck and wing.) we have a silver tongued quartette as sisted by a policeman's chorus in We Are Ramblin' Jay Walters, which in turn introduces a stupendous da-ra-ma. Let her go, Perfesser! (Quartettes sing We Are Ramblin' Jay Walter. Air, I'm a Ramblin' Cowpuncher.) We are ramblin' jay walkers Our pace is our own If the Council don't like us They can leave us alone; We can stroll past a copper The red light defy And if traffic don't kill us We'll live till we die. Policemen sing: We are traffic policemen No parking's our song And with private garages We'll worry along As we eke out the pay check (Fees are what they are) And always watch over The privilege star! (Policemen and jay wal\ers join hands and caper around the stage sing ing the last refrain. A motor horn is heard. All fall down and on aris' ing, s cr ambl e rear 12 THE CHICAGOAN conventional weeping moustaches, a seedy suit, an ancient derby.) Policeman : Hey! Where the Hell do you think you're going? Mr. People : Isn't this — isn't this the City Hall? Policeman: Who the Hell do you think you are? Mr. People: I'm Mr. People, Common People. An old family, Officer, but now gone to seed. We used to own this place. It seems like we can hardly pay taxes on it any more. Policeman : Well, whadda ya want in the City Hall? Mr. People : (In a fawning whisper.) I'd like — I'd just like to pay a little taxes. (Policemen and jay wal\ers fall bac\ aghast. Mr. People climbs out of his ancient car. counts a few pennies from his poc\etboo\, shrugs his shoulders li\e a drug fiend and starts to cringe into the City Hall. There is a scream off stage, right. A disheveled female runs on and clasps Mr. People about the \nees.) Female: (Shrie\s.) Don't. Don't. Don't. Stop him, Officer. Save him. Policeman : Who is this woman? Mr. People: She looks familiar. Sounds familiar, too. It might be my wife. Yes, I'm sure that's who it is. Gentlemen, allow mc to present you to Mrs. People. Mrs. People: (Kneels in appeal to all.) Will no one save my husband from him self? Policeman: Not so much noise. Save who? Mrs. People: Oh, save him, Officer; spare him for his family, for his children. (Weeps. ) Policeman : (Touched.) How many children has he, M'am? Mrs. People : Three million, five hundred thousand. Oh, save him. Policeman: (Glares at Mr. People, who cringes.) What's wrong with him? Mrs. People: I blush, Officer. But what is my shame to the needs of our wretched family? Their father is a tax addict. He began paying taxes gradually. Just a little social tax with the boys now and then. But one tax always leads to an other tax. Finally he hardly came home at all. He stayed away for days pay ing taxes with other tax fiends. He neglected us. He starved his brood. He pawned our wedding gifts. He sold our furniture. Every cent he could lay his hands on he spent for his vile taxes. Taxes are an obsession with him. He can't pass a tax window. He's always paying taxes. Oh, Oh, Oh! (Weeps.) Save him from him self! Policeman: (Declaims in Shakes- pearean manner.) Madam, forgive me mine unmanly tears For though the law doth deluge as the rains No statute 'gainst his lunacy appears Nor any hope, save Heaven alone, remains. (A chord of music.) (A police whistle sounds left. The police form a column two by two and march off to the strains of a dead march. Enter a crowd of citizens, right, one with a soap box. They mingle with jay wal\ers and the People family, the latter center and bathed in a yellow spot.) First Citizen : (On the soap box.) Comrades, must we cringe forever un der the tyrant's lash? (A burst of weeping from Mrs. People. Mr. Peo ple nods his head in assent.) Where are the police to save us in our hour of need? A waiter: Gone out for a drink. F. C: Where are the courts, the incorruptible judges? A bootblack: Out to the dog races! F. C. : Where is the Sanitary Dis trict? A Taxi Driver: Loose on bond! F. C: The city treasurer? A Banker: He was down on La- Salle street this morning. Begging small change. F. C: The Sheriff, then? A Ham Actor: He sleeps, the years are heavy on his eyes. F. C. : The State's Attorney? A Steel Worker: In conference. Been there a year. F. C. : I call then for the Coroner. (ls[o answer.) The Coroner. (H.0 answer.) Where is the Coroner to sit on the civic corpse? Has anybody seen the Coroner? (A little fellow pushes a baby buggy out of the crowd.) Little Gent : I have, Mr. Speaker. F. C. : What was he doing? Little Gent: He was selling baby THE CHICAGOAN 13 booklets. I bought one. F. C. : He plans to breed up a race of slaves to take our places when we have been ground into the dust. Be fore that day, Comrades, our valiant bones shall pave the street! A Voice : It's time they used some thing substantial! F. C. : Let us implore our rulers to show mercy. If not, then we shall rise in our just wrath. (All \neel facing toward the City Hall. Groans and sobs imploring mercy. The colored spot on the People family runs through all the spectra.) All: Mercy. Help. Be lenient, Great Ones. Mercy. Mercy on the people. All is lost. All is lost. Sobs. (The stage grows dar\. As the nadir of misery is reached a bugle sounds off stage in a fanfare of hope. Singing is heard coming nearer and nearer. It is a marching song. Suddenly the marchers are plainly heard. Enter rran\ J. Loesch on a swan as in "Lohengrin." He leads a band of crusaders.) Song in swelling rhythm: Air, Tipperary. It's a long way to civic virtue It's a long way to go It's a long way to civic virtue And a stony road to hoe, But it's goodbye to Al Capone, farewell, Bugs Moran, It's a long, long way to civic virtue (All raucously) : And so's your old man! It's a long way to clean elections It's a long way to go It's a long way to clean elections And a road no man can know But it's goodbye to graft and boodle, good bye, black and tan It's a long, long way to civic virtue (All including the audience) : And so's your old man! (Tremendous cheers. Mr. and Mrs. People climb on the swan behind Fran\ Loesch and the procession of crusaders marches off right followed by the sing ing citizens.) (Curtain.) INTERLUDE (Three gentlemen in top hats get up from three front row seats and clamber over the footlights onto the stage. Two light cigarettes, one an underslung pipe. All pace bac\ and forth. They are the critics: Ashton Stevens and Charley Collins with the cigarettes. Frederick^ Donaghey with the pipe.) Collins: Well, what did you boys think of it? Donaghey: Oh, I don't know. What did you think of it? Stevens: I've heard some of that music be fore. The words seem new, but I remember the music. What do you think? Collins: The City Hall looked familiar. Donaghey: Too flat. Not enough depth to it. Collins: It's supposed to be an illusion. Stevens: Personally, I can take my illusions or let them alone. I'll have to remember that It's a good crack for the column. Trouble with this piece is, the acting isn't finished. Donaghey: Aw, it's home talent stuff. They want it reviewed and when you pan it they hol ler it's home talent. As if that made any dif ference. Collins : Didn't that cop quote Shakespeare? Donaghey: William Shakespeare, born 1564, died 1616. Lived at Stratford and London. Mar ried a woman named Hathaway. Poet and dra matist. Stevens: Wait a minute. Let me get that down. Collins: Well, you have to admit there were a number of interesting vestiges of former drama in this thing. Stevens: Hello! Collins: (Mildly piqued.) There are, too! Stevens: Oh sure. I didn't mean there weren't. I was just saying hello to Ernie Byfield. There he is down there. Hello, Ernie. Saw your name in the paper. Come over and see us some time. Who played Collins : was the girl Mrs. People? Stevens : I don't know. It's in my pro- Say, gram. Donaghey : that would be a fat part for Mae West, w o u 1 d n't it, boys, hey? Collins: Oh, I don't know. Too light for her. This piece is modern and hard- boiled. Too sophisti cated for sex. Stevens: I think it would be too seri ous for Mae. I'd call the play a civic satire, I believe. But there's no love interest. Collins : That's a defect. Besides, it's [turn to page 46] 14 THE CHICAGOAN MOST MILD, ANACHRONISTIC VIEWS ARE SPONSORED BY THE DAILY NEWS LET ART LEAD FORTH THE SABLE HOST AND CREDIT, PLEASE, THE EVENING POST IF BLOOD MUST FLOW AND TRUMPETS BRAY THE VALIANT TRIB SHALL LEAD THE WAY YET GAZE ERE ANY TRAITOR DURST IMPUGN THE STAINLESS SHIELD OF HEARST ^Z&ftdoi^- TO SOFTER MOODS AND SOFTER MEN THE COMMERCE JOURNAL LENDS ITS PEN BUT HERE WE CLOSE THESE MODEST RHYMES UPON THE CONCEPT OF THE TIMES Hewsfiafiers of the Town Suggest Uniforms for the Black Horse Trooj> THE CHICAGOAN 15 mm lllllflll! Grand Italian Opera A Resume and Forecast of Openings Forty Years Ago and to Come By ROMOLA VOYNOW w?rE steel curtain in the new Civic Opera House rises on the evening of No vember 4 it will disclose a perform' ance that has been forty years in rehearsal, with a company of 3,000 and some odd hun dreds. Principals alone number into the hundreds, and when they make the trip from limousine to cloak room to box seat they will be traversing a path much longer than the actual one to be measured by eager morJern footsteps for that velvet path stretch back two gen erations, forty years into the past. In 1889 no attempt had been made to identify the local institution of grand opera with civic consciousness. In fact, the management of the then young Auditorium theater called upon its public for no more than one dollar for a gallery admission and the consider able sum of $3.50 for box seats, with no strings attached to civic pride and operatic consciousness. Moreover it advertised modestly that it was about to begin a season of "Grand Italian Opera," which was scarcely even na tionalistic. Nevertheless an interest in music alone could never have accounted for the presence of some 20,000 people on the pavements of Congress street that December 9th. People who began their innocent bystanding at seven o'clock on a frosty winter morning, and by the time the ticket holders began arriving thirteen hours later were still sufficiently alert to keep a detail of 100 policemen busy in the attempt to usher belles and beaux through the gaping common folk. NOR could Mr. Polacco have given his whole hearted approval to the performance that officially opened what was then the world's finest theater, for the performance consisted wholly of dedicatory exercises. Yet it was at tended by the Chief Executive and Vice-President of the United States, by the Governor of Illinois, the Mayor of Chicago, and a "host of church and state dignitaries." For the orchestral numbers European talent had been so licited; several compositions had been selected on the farther side of the At lantic to enhance the evening. But for 16 THE CHICAGOAN the Auditorium Dedication Ode, local genius had been given preference. A young Chicago poetess, by name Har riet Monroe, wrote verses for a cantata to which a Chicago musician had set music. The middle western Sappho cheerfully predicted that her city would rise from "shadowy depths of shame to a heritage of beauty"; the Apollo Club chorus said it with music. Neat speeches began. A crowd which overflowed the great galleries and had crowded 1,000 people on the vast stage would not be satisfied until President Harrison had risen to his feet to say some very gratifying words on the subject of the new theater. John Runnells in sonorous periods extolled the structural details of the theater. But the real hero of the evening was a man referred to as "Ferd" Peck, whose speech was the shortest of the evening, and who for four years had labored over theater plans. Only the appear ance of Adelina Patti was sufficient to still the applause which rewarded his modest phrases. How they had waited for her! She gave them Home, Sweet Home, and a short encore, and then evaded their demands by slipping out of the stage door into her carriage and away to her hotel. MEANWHILE the show outside in Congress street was reaching its climax. At nine thirty poor John Root was still standing outside the Congress street entrance with his coat buttoned tightly around him, his ad mission tickets despairingly in hand. "This," he was heard to complain, "is the result of coming early and trying to avoid the crush." It developed that he and Mrs. Root had driven up in their brougham two hours early. He had left the carriage to find out whether the Wabash avenue entrance to the parquet was open. By the time he discovered it was not, his carriage had been swept away in the traffic stream with Mrs. Root inside. One Wirt Dexter, who dismounted several blocks from the theater after having been stalled in his carriage for half an hour, remarked lightly to a com panion: "This is a well dressed mob. It, therefore, has wit enough to become exasperating." Capt. Fitzpatrick of the police department expressed himself less daintily: "Men," he said, "this won't do. There are 1,000 ladies on the outskirts of the crowd trying to get through." And many a perspiring escort was glad to relinquish his fair companion to the burly arms of a policeman who offered to see her safely through the crowd to the door of the theater. At one time a squad of 30 coppers made a forced march to Michi gan avenue to collect a party of young ladies from a musical academy who re tained tickets for gallery seats. Spectators of the greatest show not under canvas caught up a chant and began to repeat rhythmically: "Cop pers on the mash; their buttons flash; coppers on the mash; oh, see their dash." Congress street from Wabash to Michigan was so packed that "the doors of private houses on the south side of the street sagged." A couple of debuntantes fainted. One of them was jostled violently against the stone front of the theater as she entered, and besides having her tortoise shell comb shattered to priceless fragments, suf fered wounds in the head which neces sitated a trip to the corner drug store. Several ladies swooned in their carriages as curious faces pressed against the windows to glimpse the hauteur of the elite. Once a great cheer went up as a grande dame, alighting from her brougham, displayed a costume notable even in that sunburst of finery. She took the tribute graciously, and re marked to her companion that Worth in Paris had brought forth the creation for her in honor of the opening. MRS. POTTER PALMER was one who walked under the canopy into the lobby. She was "radiant in scarlet crepe"; her gown was sleeveless and had a decolette bodice. In her hair she wore a diamond aigrette; around her throat a heavy diamond necklace. Mrs. N. K. Fairbank was dressed in black and green faille. Mrs. John B. Drake wore gray brocade with point lace trimmings. Mrs. C. E. Porter was attired in a toilet of black silk with puffings of cream crepe. Mrs. Franklin Mac Veagh appeared in pale green silk, and Mrs. Marshall Field "looked distinctive in her Josephine toilet of brown brocade." Mrs. H. O. Stone was "splendid in white brocaded silk trimmed in Russian sables," with an evening wrap of gold cloth trimmed in ermine. Mrs. Martin A. Ryerson was in black lace and wore jet. Mrs. Ferdinand Peck, wife of the modest and laconic hero of the evening, was in shell pink brocade. Her corsage was of LaFrance roses and violets. Ladies carried corsages in their hands and had filmy shawls thrown over their heads to protect elaborate coiffures from December winds. There was a pro fusion of diamonds. Male finery was topped off by the lofty opera hat. The hats drew raucous mock applause. It was all over before eleven o'clock. The President and his suite were smuggled out of a side door and whisked away to their private train. The street crowd finally melted under a drizzle of icy rain. But confusion had not yet abated. Carriages, with English Tommy drivers shivering aloft, were lined up on Wabash avenue from Harrison to Adams streets. In vain a doorman called their numbers; grande dames had to pick their way across the choked thoroughfare in search of their carriages, and many a lady whose brougham was hopelessly held up some where on the reaches of Wabash ave nue was happy to reach the shelter of a vulgar cable car. Having made their debut to the ac companiment of fanfare and trumpery, the carriage crowd was able to return the following evening to listen to the strains of Romeo and Juliet and settle in their red velvet boxes for two gen erations of straight stock. NOW at last the glittering com pany is to have a change of venue and of scenery. The personnel of the company has changed not a little in the 40 years that bridge between the grimy theater on Congress street and the glistering one at 20 North Wacker Drive. To be sure, the Peck family will be well represented in the new theater. The same Mrs. Ferdinand Peck will attend the forthcoming open ing. She will probably be attended by the Ferdinand Peck Juniors. Mrs. W. J. Chalmers, who so contracted the habit on December 9, 1889, that she has never since been able to stay away from the first night of the Chicago opera season, is to be among those present. The Ryersons will come, and will be of the number able to compare the two festive openings. The Carter Harrisons will doubtless avail them selves of the same privilege, and Mr. and Mrs. Kellogg Fairbank think they will likewise be on hand to weigh the respective values of the two occasions. The R. T. Crane family will honor the occasion by repeating their opening night appearance of 40 years ago. Jessie Ozias Donahue, who saw the Auditorium in its first burst of splen dor, will undoubtedly be present in the [CONTINUED ON PAGE 36] THE CHICAGOAN 17 O, The Brave Little Theater A Reminiscence of Maurice Browne and Nellie Van V olhenburg By FANNY BUTCHER IF the marine band had welcomed * Maurice Browne on his return to Chicago the other day, after twelve years of absence, with a loud rendition of Hail the Conquering Hero Comes (as it did Floyd Gibbons when he came home after a few months at the battle front, where he fought the great war with a typewriter) , the situation would not be so grandiloquent as it might seem upon first glance. If any man has been a conquering hero in his line, Maurice Browne has been. Twelve years ago he left Chi cago bankrupt in funds, pretty well shaken in health and with even his spirit dragging its feathers. He re turned to be present at the opening of two of the most important dramatic ventures of the Chicago season, co author of one, Wings Over Europe, and owner outright of one of the most spectacularly popular plays that ever happened in the world, Journey's End. He looks younger than he looked when he left, and he is by way of be ing financially Mr. Midas himself. There are English companies of Jour ney's End playing in London, Paris, New York, Stockholm, Chicago, Ber lin, one somewhere in Canada, another in Australia and one touring Europe, and there is a French company doing it in Paris and a German company in Berlin. Mr. Browne owns them all. Figure it out yourself. AND besides his success as a play- i wright and as a manager, Maurice Browne made, a couple of years ago, the hit of the London season as the lead in The Un\nown Warrior. When you mention his name in London fa miliarly, as I did this summer, having been one of the relics of the Chicago Little Theater when he was "Don" and everybody was a member of the fam ily, everyone looks at you as if you were taking the name of the Lord in vain. Intellectuals in London think that he is one of the great all-round men of the day. It warms one to recall the Little Theater days that he and Ellen Van Volkenburg climbed to the top of their ladder without ever once kicking their ideals out of the way, that an interna tional success has been built on exactly theories which didn't succeed in build ing a little theater in Chicago. But their success doesn't make it any more possible to speak of them as Mr. Browne and Miss Van Volkenburg when you have sat with them many a night at 11:30 eating baked beans in a place around the corner that wasn't called Thompson's, but looked and acted like it — baked beans because they were cheap and nourishing. The Don and Nellie of those days are still the Don and Nellie of these. POVERTY — very artistic and very refined, but poverty nevertheless — was the lot of the theater, as I well knew, being the young person whose business it was to tell the printer that we would settle with him without fail within 30 days, and the one who had to snatch the four dollars and thirty cents that came in for tickets to put into the electric light fund before some one else found it to buy flowers for the tea room with. Don and Nellie, poor dears, began on a joint salary of $15 a week. They lived in one room, part of the time over Laura Jacobsen's cafe, and did without everything except make-up and costumes and had more fun than anybody in the world! .They finally drew the munificent sum of $25 a week jointly (Don getting $17.50 as became the director of a great company Celebrated Chicago Celebrations The Art Institute Lions Observe Hallowe'en 18 THE CHICAGOAN like the Little Theater, and Nellie $7.50 in appreciation of her position as lead ing lady and general smoother out of difficulties). Dunham, who was the most decorative colored girl anybody ever saw, and who was wardrobe mis tress as well as cloak room girl, got $15 a week. And I, as secretary, treasurer, reception committee, ticket seller, pro moter, publicity agent and assistant jan itor, was ashamed of myself for taking $10 a week when the theater was so poor. We were the sole pensioners of the establishment. I used, to get down at ten o'clock in the morning, sweep out (figuratively), open all the mail, answer it, read manuscripts (which were pretty awful most of the time), keep the books (which I did in a high handed amateur passion which has made it spiritually impossible for me ever since then to look a balance in the eye), call up 20 or 30 people and try to persuade them to buy seats for the evening's performance or to just come anyway as guests of the manage ment if they wouldn't buy seats, keep the actors and actresses (all amateurs) from committing murder on each other directly within my line of vision, tell the water company that we would pay them for a book of tickets the next time they came, welcome a visiting au thor or actor with the keys of the tea room, have tea with them, placate a member who wanted to talk to Mr Browne about something very impor tant (which turned out to be that her daughter's part wasn't really suited to a girl of such delicate sensibilities), welcome personally whatever propor< tion of the ninety and nine arrived for the evening's performance, take their tickets and try to persuade them to buy a program (after the good old con tinental fashion), show them to their seats, watch the performance, chat jauntily with the most important of them during the intermissions, say good-bye when the performance was over, talk over the performance with the players and whoever had a good round of vocabulary to shoot at the idea, and then go home. And there wasn't a happier person in the world! Everybody worked the same way, doubled in whatever brass there hap pened to be idle at the moment, and thus triumphed over a treasury which consisted of debts and hopes, equally large. THE population of performers was what might be called floating. Nellie was the permanent leading lady. Other lady performers came and went, as it were, for various reasons, among them being the complaint that real tal ent is not appreciated in the world, the fact that Don occasionally spoke to them about a tenth as sharply as any professional stage manager speaks when he is just being calm and friendly, the fact that there never really dies in the feminine heart the hope that, although a man is married, and obviously very happy, he may, with a little suggestion, realize that there are skittles and beer outside the home. Gentlemen mostly stayed, whether because they loved their art or because they occa sionally got their names and their pic tures in the papers one cannot say at this far time. Certainly they never fought with the director, either with fists or with tongues, as the ladies did occasionally (with tongues only, however) . Just one happy family (telling each other quite frankly and unreservedly what they thought of each other) we were. But we would stand against the world if anybody dared attack our Art or our Work or the theater. At that it was pretty wonderful for Chicago to be the parent of the whole Little Theater movement. Don was a far-seeing person. Nellie was an angel. The trouble with them was that they were too far seeing and too angelic for this world — of Chicago. Everyone said they were too idealistic for any place. Well, look at them now! Don is Maurice Browne, Inc., one of the most spectacular producers in the English (and French and German) speaking world. Nellie is Miss Ellen Van Volkenburg, chief of productions for Maurice Browne, Inc. Don is Maurice Browne, one of the most high ly praised actors in London whose picture is still around theater lobbies as The Un\nown Warrior and whose performance in that is still talked about by theater goers. And Don is co-author of one of the most discussed plays of American stage history. Don must feel, as Carl Sanburg's favorite expression puts it "like a bird in the air." III ft iff Mi i % hi if J ;'* /If THE CHICAGOAN 19 CHICAGOAN/ IT was comic. There sat a publicity man, one of the livest in town. And before him, with poised pencil, sat a newspaper man, eager for "personal facts." But the talk dragged. "Where were you born, Mr. Lewis?" "On an Indiana farm." "When?" "Say, do you have to put that in?" "Well, perhaps not — What do you remember of your childhood?" "Nothing much. Look here — " "No boyhood incidents, no ancestor- worship, no success maxims, no wound stripes, — what kind of autobiography is this? Well, I'll meet you at lunch next Tuesday, and we'll try again." "I don't eat lunch." The newspaper man pitched his note- paper into the waste-basket, and growled: "Call that bird a collabora tor!" THE story was obtained, neverthe less; gathered here and there from members of the brotherhood called Friends of Lloyd Lewis. Use of the critical faculty soon separated truth* from legend. There appeared to be as many myths about Lewis as he him self had ever destroyed with his Rem ington. And besides, every witness tended to get off the track with "By the way, do you remember the night when Lloyd — " But the yarn emerged, and it appears here, sternly rid of ribald anecdote, but with all the paradoxes left in. It is a distinctly modern piece of biography in which the hero is neither idolized nor condemned. Acknowledgment is made to those who have contributed, to Who's Who, to The Chicago Historical Society, and to all newspapers, whose files have been freely consulted. The Encyclopedia Brittanica was also consulted in order to verify statements that one Thomas Lloyd, an ancestor of the publicity man and author, was an early governor of Pennsylvania. The encyclopedia, though not mentioning Lloyd Lewis, does mention a Thomas Lloyd who was "president of the coun cil" and "deputy governor," off and on through the last years of the 17th century. He came over with William Penn and, like his leader, is said to have "taken up controversy and au- Lewis the Myth-Killer By Henry Justin Smith Lloyd Lewis thorship." This is considered to clinch the fact that Thomas Lloyd was an ancestor of Lloyd Lewis. Somewhere back there, the Lloyds and the Lewises intermarried, and in the 19th century we find them pioneer ing in Indiana. They were Welsh Quakers, and belonged to the Hicksite, or liberal, branch of the Religious So ciety of Friends. They had come of an especially independent minded ele ment, being of those, indeed, who re fused to doff their hats in the presence of royalty. (Cf., Lloyd Lewis re fusing to bare his head before editors.) WE now skip a lot of generations and years, and discover, in the farming country near Pendleton, Ind., a neighborhood scholar and philosopher, a squire with a goodly collection of books, and a deep way of talking which attracted university presidents, judges, editors. He was outstanding in a com munity of liberal Quakers, believers in tolerance toward other sects, in educa tion on a parity with faith, in equal rights for women. This Indiana Soc rates is Joseph B. Lewis, who, naturally enough, hands on to his son Jay his scholarly traits; and Jay becomes a devotee of the classics and of higher learning generally. Jay winds up as the head of a township public school, in which are taught such things as Greek, Latin, calculus, on top of regular grade school menu. To this school come a hundred or more farm boys, riding or driving miles to be taught. And to it, after a while, comes the young, eager, grey-eyed Lloyd, son and grand son of those two bookish Quakers — who by this time have left the com munion over a question of what the term "to swear" really means. The mother is an Ohio Quaker lady of Vir ginia ancestry. They are all humani tarian skeptics, religious to the core, but believers in conscience rather than book theology; and in politics they are hard- headed realists, haters of selfish factions, fighters against smugness. Lloyd grows up like that himself. His whole life is influenced by what the Quakers thought and did about slavery. They abhorred it; it drove them to abandon non-resistance and take up arms in the Civil War. Joseph and Jay Lewis could not go; the former too frail, the latter too young. But from the lips of scores of men "who were there," from grey-beards sitting on cracker-boxes, from old men in the fields, Lloyd heard the war re-fought; he heard of events before that, of how a great-grand-uncle had run a relay of the "under ground railroad" and had secreted negroes under his hay-loads. A sheriff halted him once. "Any niggers aboard, Lewis?" "Ask me no questions and I'll tell thee no lies," barked the old fellow with a terrible glare, and drove on, while a crinkly head drove deeper into the hay. The Civil War, Donelson, Gettys burg, Grant, Sherman — and above all, Lincoln. Each name and place stamped deep into the mind of a boy both imagi native and skeptical, who later was to test the legends he had heard and to destroy some of them in a book, "Myths After Lincoln." He heard too, often enough, the myth that John Wilkes Booth was still alive, in the '90s. There was a villager named Louis A. Weich- man who — it was rumored — went around armed with a derringer, and never turned his back on a door, be cause "Booth might git him." Weich- man had given testimony that hanged Mrs. Surratt and the Lincoln conspira tors. In awe of Weichman and of the 20 THE CHICAGOAN tale, Lloyd Lewis remembered it al ways, and at last, when he wrote his vivid book, buried the Booth legend in myth-balls. NOW our biographical sources offer us something about "college days" and "first literary efforts." We now hear of Lloyd as "king of the bull-pen," and also as "the lad who passed an exam, though wearing tin pants." Scene, Swarthmore College, Quakerish seat of learning in Pennsyl vania. There, as the baseball season arrived, Lloyd appeared as a loyal re cruit; indeed, he "warmed up" regu larly (for he was a pitcher) but never did he pitch a game. No matter how many other pitchers were knocked out, Lloyd was anchored to the bench, and to this day he knows not why. The "iron pants" story is more in his favor. As it is told, he was cast as one of the king's henchmen when the senior class put on "Robin Hood." In the midst of a dress rehearsal, with the henchmen drilling faithfully in their armor, came a message from a dean, one of the kind who loves his little joke. In too great haste to unstrap his costume of tin, Lloyd rushed through the collegiate halls to the dean's office. "You've overlooked the examination in History Six," thundered the dean, shaking inwardly with mirth. "Go to the house of Professor X ¦ at once, and take it." Another rush through halls, through streets full of coeds and barking dogs, while the tin pants clanked and squeaked. But the panic-stricken senior, wedged into a chair in the pro fessor's study, submitted to the tough examination — and passed it! LLOYD LEWIS was, of course, edi tor of the college paper. And then, of course, he wanted to write for a living. A Lewis-esque story of a football game came under the eye of a Big Alumnus. "For whom would you like to write?" asked this influential person. "The Saturday Evening Post," an swered Lloyd. Jobs on The Post were all taken; but the young aspirant captured a place on the Sunday staff of the Philadelphia North American. There he wrote. They were glad to have him write. And there he might have remained, to come, possibly, real estate editor, mak ing speeches at Swarthmore alumni re unions, had it not happened that, on a vacation trip west, he for the first time entered the wind-wept scene of his later labors and fame — Chicago. Its wide spaces, its tall buildings, its reckless innovations, its imperial good nature. "This is my city!" cried Lewis's heart. He cast off Philadelphia, sought work in Chicago, and found it with a feature syndicate connected with James Keeley's Herald. He found, too, a good friend, B. W. Dennison. They worked happily together until Keeley disposed of the Herald. MEANTIME, the circle of friends widened. Lloyd had bought for the syndicate a couple of Carl Sand burg's poems, among the earliest to see print. The two became pals. The tall, dreamy poet, then writing trenchantly for The Day-Boo\, and the agile, grey- eyed feature man, with the breezy laugh. Their intimacy has remained unbroken. It even stood the strain when Lloyd went to Carl one day — it was some seven years ago — and said, casually: "The sentimentalists have about got Lincoln wrapped up for keeps. I've been thinking of writing something about it." Sandburg was silent; then said: "I ought to say that I've been working on a life of Lincoln." They looked at each other. At length : "Well, I only want Lincoln after his death," said Lloyd. And Carl replied : "I want him only up to that point." So, as Lloyd once put it, "We par celed old Abe out and traded notes, read each other's proofs, enjoyed it all — never a twinge of jealousy." THERE were others who joined the order, Friends of Lloyd Lewis, in addition to Otto McFeely, Northcliffe of Oak Park, who had long been a charter member. There were the Mc- Arthurs, Alfred and Charlie. There was a newspaper man named Smith, a medical expert named Fishbein, a critic named Ashton Stevens, and a professor, Tom Peete Cross, folk-lore scholar. Yes, and there was Ben Hecht, who struck sparks out of Lewis, and got a reverse current too. For three years Hecht and Lewis lived near each other, saw each other constantly, and through all their acquaintance they have argued, roared with mirth, played pranks on each other, true musketeers of a company now largely scattered. McFeely is even more of a boon com panion of Lloyd. Their delight used to be to make week-end visits together, taking along as "valet" an 80-year-old colored preacher, whom they would stir up to seek the soul salvation of their hosts. On the back of this ancient evangelist reposed for some years a beautiful belted overcoat which Lloyd's family had persuaded him to buy. There is no room for nobby clothes in Lloyd's Quaker philosophy. Brisk, talkative — indeed, given to a rat-tat-tat speech hard to understand over a telephone, Lloyd made his way, working for the syndicate, then re-writ ing for the Evening American, then en listing in the navy, and remaining penned in a Chicago training-ship; finally, entering the amusement world as publicity man, and becoming a bril liant member of the Balaban 6? Katz staff. AT night he toiled on old Lincoln i tales. The great shadow of Civil War drama half possessed his mind. By day, he lent fame to cinema stars; by night, he dwelt in quite another world, which was shared by his sister Louise, and later, by Kathryn Daugh- erty, whom he married. He was happy, because he was ex pressing one of his "urges." And last year he became twice as happy because the chance came to write of his other idol, Chicago. Awhile ago, he wrote to a friend : "Press agents are the most candid salesmen in the world. . . . They never violate the eleventh commandment, which is, "Don't take yourself too damn seriously." "I hate to work, but do it in the vain hope of buying my freedom." "I would go to Quaker meeting every Sunday if I could be sure that, as in my childhood, it would be forty- five minutes of complete silence." Well, the interviewer who had so failed on the first meeting took to Lloyd a draft of this story. Lloyd read it with a frown, then exclaimed: "Why, you haven't put in a word about how we came to write 'Chi cago!' " "That's so. I was going to add a note that you and Harcourt were talk ing over such a book and agreed that you would need a collaborator, some body of the older generation, somebody safe and largely sane, somebody statis tical, as one critic said; one beside whose stuff your own would look all brilliant and dashing and — " Lewis brightened. "Friend," said he, "thee has cer tainly expressed it." THE CHICAGOAN 21 TOWN TALK Post Office FROM boy hood we have yearned recur rently toward a warrior's life, whether it was service in Hawaii, Alaska or with the glamorous le gation guard at Peking. To be sure, this yearn ing is corrected by an equally re current megrim of skepticism toward service with the armed forces of the Republic, so that we are alternately exalted and depressed between recruit ing posters and war novels. Perhaps it's the recruiting posters which keep up the enchantment. The series on "Action in Far-away Lands" moved us almost unbearably. "The Army Builds Men" motif left us a little cold, still, if our blood pressure is to be believed, there's something to be said for the idea. It is no more than natural to be delighted with the latest placard openly exhibited for all to see on Dearborn: JOIN THE ARMY A GAME YOU WILL LIKE POSTOFFICE One can imagine a valorous top-ser geant receiving a "special delivery" let ter from a stern major, and the tableau is worth going to China to see, surely. But maybe the game isn't played as we remember it on box social nights, say at Bureau Junction, 111. Faith WE used to entertain fears that our present industrial age, re plete with its high powered business methods, would completely subjugate individuality. However, a matter of great promise has been brought to our attention. A rather corpulent and very regular commuter over the Illinois Central has been riding his merry, way in and out of Chicago each business day for the last 23 years. Being a man of very punctual habits, he always al lows himself ample time to catch his train. In fact, he is usually in the terminal at least 15 minutes before the scheduled departure time of his ex press. During these years and years he has always seated himself on a cer tain bench, where he could rest his 285 pounds in solid comfort and read his paper. Some time ago the Illinois Cen tral decided to use benches with divid ing seats. Soon they were installed, and almost as soon did our robust friend notice this encroachment on his ease. He wrote a railroad official at great length, outlining his story, and how his comfort had been interfered with. Within a few days he received a polite reply that the arms of two of the seats in the station he used had been re moved, and that the use of these aids to rest awaited him. So now his hun dred-weights sojourn in comfort for their 15 minutes each day. We have a new faith in modern something. Charity A GENTLEMAN of spiritual at tributes, officially ranked Captain on the rolls of a certain local charitable organization, called on a large north side manuafcturing concern for their annual donation to his organization. Approaching the office manager for his largesse for spiritual purposes, the Cap tain spoke of the day's large receipts, producing several checks and several five, 10 and 20 dollar bills. The office manager gave him five dollars. The Captain shook the office man's hand. "Thanks greatly, Brother. Your donation will help poor children in this district. The Lord knows they need it badly. I'll see you again this time next year. Pardon me though, Brother, I hate to ask this. Can you lend me two cents?" SB *4i 0 mL 1 Wh\W} 1 % 1 -||L^ I "* i \ ML# ^Jlm '11 return these year, Brother," "I next bless you and keep you." His smile fal tered, apologetic, somewhat c m - barrassed. "I have a nickel here for carfare, but head quarters is so far I can't walk it." The two cents came forth will ingly. The spir itual officer thanked the char itable brother. two cents to you he said. "God Th ieves AS Life, alas, becomes increasingly i dexterous and dubious in its motif, honesty fades into a legend of the. gpcjd old times. This story is concerned with a pair of upright local bootleggers who equipped themselves with an airplane for the Canadian import trade. The faithful plane was months the main stay of their fortunes. They worked hard. Imported frequently. Saved their money. Each week, as they set by a modest saving, they looked for ward to a modest fleet of importing planes, and so, eventually, to a secure old age. But on their last trip to Canada they heedlessly left their plane to complete purchasing arrangements. That one unwatchful moment was their undoing. While the plane was alone, some Ca nadian miscreant deftly unscrewed and appropriated its propellor. It was the only propellor the firm had! The police, to whom due and lawful complaint was made, were baffled. Lovers THE ghostly essence of Chicago, at once bold and petulant, is ex plained by the fact that it is an inland city on a body of water comparable to a sea. This avenue of escape lends it the character of coastal towns: inde pendence — and with independence, pride, self-confidence, imagination. After all, boats from the port of Chi cago are not a rare sight along the Spanish Riviera. The lake, however, 22 THE CHICAGOAN Show Boat, Flo Ziegf eld's imposing musical comedy, is here depicted through the pen of Nat Karson. Howard Marsh and Irene Dunne appear as gambler and river maid lovers upper right. Charles Winninger and Edna May Oliver as master and mistress of the Cotton Blossom, upper left. Eva Puck and Sammy White, dancers and comics, right center. Jules Bledsoe and the Jubilee Singers roll 01' Man River Along, lower right. Charles Collins' verbal review appears in this issue. exerts a far more subtle influence upon the personality of the city. It is a companion in outlawry. The sea is cruel, it is distrusted conventionally; but here is a lake that does not obey the rules. It suffers the encroachments of a city founded upon the sand, then suddenly retaliates by tearing down the esplanades, crumbling the walls of buildings rashly near its shore; it flings ice across the dandy's promenades, wresting great rocks and slabs of con crete from the breakwaters. When Canada complained of Chicago's mal practice with its river, the lake rose six inches. "I'm scaling your battle ments," it said, "but I'm vindicating your rights, nothing without its cost in this world." Now up and down the outer boulevards stand engines impo tent to repair the ravage, waiting for the ebb of lake water which washes beneath them. Enemies as they are on the surface, there is yet a secret, almost insidious, kinship between lake and city. Chi cago refuses categories; the city keeps itself only partially civilized and with the same irresponsible regard for law and order with which the lake an nounces itself an unrepentant heathen. Like a flood of waters, a tide of furtive faces along dingy back streets, rises to give Chicago an evil air. Like the lake, the city keeps up a magnificent appearance, but between them is this perverse boast, "We are not like the others; let violence stay." The lake laughs, pursuing its reck less way. It is the sort of lover that keeps a city perpetually young. Documents MUSING on the Shearer docu ments, elaborately unearthed and as elaborately denied by all possible authors, we are left with a conviction that a satirist is a pleasant enough fel low but a disturbing factor around the house, especially when there are dip lomats to dinner. Briefly reviewed, William Shearer, confessed lobbyist for a big navy at Geneva, horrified his inquisitors by pre senting a document setting forth Brit ish plans for undoing the War of the Revolution. The document, entitled The Re-Conquest of America and sup posedly by the shrewd hand of Sir William Wiseman, "head of the Brit ish Secret Service in the United States," left senators aghast. Its con tents were suppressed, the latter action THE CHICAGOAN 23 •:,¦'¦. "Carry your Sunday paper, Sir?' goading newspaper reporters to investi gation. A Chicago amateur in high and far- cial diplomacy has brought light to bear on the origin of the mysterious papers, and a humorous light it is. The paper was originally (in 1919) conceived as a carefully veiled satire by William J. M. A. Maloney, M. D., a New York physician. The doctor, whose wit is as sharp and skillful as his scalpel, gave out that he had found the dreadful paper on the street. It purports to be a report from a British secret agent to Lloyd George advising the latter in the delicate business of bringing the American "colonies" once more under the Crown. The thesis is painstakingly worked out in convincing detail. The author is a genius at pur poseful distortion of fact and inter weaving of fancy. Published by A. Gordon Brown and Company, 164 East 37th Street, New York City, the pam phlet should make a splendid collector's item. The publisher is grandeloquently titled, The Statesman's Press. Denials have been vehement. Wise man, of course, has protested his inno cence. S. K. Radcliffe, a British jour nalist, denied authorship, but has so far refused to reveal the real author, except that he is a New York Irishman who served with the British forces at Gallipoli (which is true). The author has refused to speak. He is a brilliant physician among whose patients are the John D. Ryans, the Alfred E. Smiths, the James A. Farrells and the William F. Kennys. A whole corps of Ameri can and British diplomats has dis avowed the skit in horror. Various papers have carried partial exposes. Altogether the British "document" hoax is perhaps the most skillful piece of journalistic enterprise since Defoe published his famous Shortest Way with Dissenters. Again we repeat, it's a grand collec tor's item. Tableau ONE of the scenes enacted behind the plate glass windows that line State Street is a wedding party. At tendant maidens are in demure poses, and the lovely bride, correct even to the arched little finger, awaits the com ing of the bridegroom. One supposes she has lingered a moment to contem plate his unearthly perfection. Rich velvet and satin robes arc stately upon the models, and the bride wears over her white satin frock an exquisite moment-of-the-modc blue vel vet train. In the admiring throng that pressed against the window were two dusky belles. One murmured to the other: "That's just the kind of dress I was thinking about. Just the kind." 24 THE CHICAGOAN Suggested Cn Let Samuel Insull Supervise a Gigantic Merger of Ofiera THE CHICAGOAN 25 DO oft / A baUet mas- vi ' I ter to facilitate 'ic Emprise ind Elevated; We Claim Only Our Usual Commission 26 THE CHICAGOAN /iren't you thirsty for a drink of 0 good water/ WOULDN'T you like a water that is always crys tal-clear, always pure and sparkling, and always good to taste? Such water is available. It is Corinnis Waukesha Water, the finest, purest water in the world. Brought to Chi cago in glass-lined tank cars direct from the famous Corinnis Spring at Waukesha, Wisconsin. Put up in handy half-gallon bottles for home use. And delivered to your home anywhere in Chicago and suburbs for a few cents a bottle! HINCKLEY & SCHMITT, Inc. . 420 W. Ontario St. SUPerion 6543 (Sold also at your neighbor hood store) @mwp WAUKESHA WATER Oound MOST theatres are now equipped with an amplifying phone serv ice, from the box office to the audience at large, so that in case of elections, important sporting events, etc., cash customers may be handily informed. The other evening, at a North Shore theatre, the announcement of a fight decision was being made. After per forming this function, the operator ne glected to disconnect his amplifying device. In a few minutes a guest en tered the booth. His mission was to collect a long standing debt. The races had cleaned the operator's pockets, for the time being, at least. Enraged, the guest began on his vocabulary of names, many of them said to be unfit for small children, and those preparing for the clergy. Victorians would have fainted. A few members of the audience really did leave.- Others remained until the manager in person very vehemently disconnected the amplifier — and the operator's name from the payroll. Newsboy EIGHT years ago a young Italian newsboy from the west side of Chicago left the city for Milan, Italy, where he was to study dancing under the famous teacher Cechetti. Under able instruction he learned rapidly, un til there was no capital in Europe where the name of Vincenso Celli was not known. A short while ago he returned to Chicago, where he resumed the name Yaculli, called upon his parents at 1900 West Erie Street, promised Italian consul Guiseppe Castruccio to dance his sole dance in America at Chi cago's Orchestra Hall the 27th of this month and casually announced his plan to return to Milan in November, where he will create the lead for a ballet especially written for him by the com poser Giordano. Inaugural WHEN these lines are read, foot ball will have advanced into its lusty mid-season through a sure march of Saturdays as rousing as so many suc cessful first downs. Days will be warm in the banked enclosure of great stadia, but warm only after a cold, gray be ginning and before an ominous winter dusk. There will be leaves under foot, chrysanthemums, and souvenir pennants — hawked but never sold, so far as ob servation reveals. A dozen house dances will champ and tinkle in the early night. Men will remember their wild surmiseful freshman first semesters, their glorious and assured status as sophomores, with themselves, years younger, back to a familiar campus. But as these lines are written the memory of a first Saturday on Stagg Field is sharp in detail. The stands are partially filled, for the Old Man must surprise his many-seasoned skeptics, re sentful over the last lean years. The sun is hot and high as the fading sum mer. The first string is off raggedly against Beloit. Four touchdowns! From the south east quadrangle across the field come three belfry notes out of Mitchell Tower as three notes of praise for a victory for the Old Man. The cheers of an early crowd are a grateful rumble, like coal rolling down a chute. Burlesque THE State Congress has a burlesque reputation for a pretty hot show. Perhaps there's a reason. Rehearsal. Five nights a week the girls rehearse, sometimes, until one and two o'clock in the morning, for the show that must be put on the next week. Then there remains only the little matter of four shows a day, with five Sunday perform ances. It's a wear and tear life for a stenographer's salary, but there is al ways the chance to make more money. On Tuesday nights there is the chorus girls' contest, for which each performer earns extra; the midnight show on Sat urday night is extra, and each new soubrette has a special recompense. Gwen Montier knows about all the ins and outs of the show business. She has been with the burlesque for seven years now, almost as long as the "Mother" who replenishes the ward robes and boils coffee for girls after the show. The tang of show business is a hard thing to fight. She has watched many girls come and go; girls from everywhere; girls that would make good in big time if they were not afraid of themselves. Her dressing room is a rendezvous for girls, who come with their troubles and have them straightened out. Perhaps it's only a matter of black tights, and maybe it's something more personal. Miss Mon tier is an adequate person. Burlesque dancers have everything furnished them in the way of costume when they enter the show. They buy THE CHICAGOAN 27 Information Please By GAB A OPTIMIST "We have no C. K. (K as in Kill) Offus at 66 Astor street listed, Sir. But we have a 2. G. Offus at 363636 Roosevelt Road and a B. J. Offizuski at 1331 South Sanga mon." Why does the telephone information girl always think up substitutes? CALL YOUR FLOORS "Second floor— glassware, I polo accessories, rubber goods, artificial flowers, I misses' ginghams, toys, oil paintings and phono graphs. Third floor— prints and etchings, cut lery, rugs and carpets, costume jewelry and the pet shop. Third floor, pahleaze." PERSONAL SERVICE Whatever it is you need you get under one heading in a big department store. "Take a 56 bus, Madam, get off at Lakeshore Drive and walk one block to the left for the Lala Building." "No, Madam, no little boy has been found in the shoe department this morning." — "The barber shop is on the 21st floor, Miss, but the ladles' rest room is on the 8th." "No, Madam, there was no message left by a lady named Morgenberg."— "Ye», at 3 o'clock, Madam, in the Olde Tea Inne and Tavern." The girl's a genius. CITY DIRECTORY "That building with the lions on the porch, Ella, that's the Marshall Field Zoo." THE PLAYGOER "This was stolen from the Follies of 1902, the one in which Sarah Bernhard was discovered in the skit Lulu Belle. Yes, that's the one, and the same year the Duncan Sisters broke loose in the Shanghai Gesture and Beatrice Lille was the nun in The Miracle. Yes! And Isadore Duncan and Fannie Brice did the best work they've ever done in the Trial of Mary Dugan. I remember as if it were yesterday." 28 THE CHICAGOAN The \l Outline of Beauty An Intelligent Woman s Guide to Beauty — Day by Day MONDAY— What a farce! The habitues here mistake me for a mere infant of twenty- two — and I, on the shady side of thirty! Fortunate for me that I'm addicted to Helena Rubinstein. TUESDAY — Fateful discovery! Two lip sticks are better than one. I now have H. R.'s Water-Lily lipstick in the Red Ruby shade for daytime and the Red Cardinal for evenings. So flattering, this duo-tone idea, it's positively wicked! WEDNESDAY — Avaunt shiny nose! Your brilliance is tamed now by H. R.'s Valaze Liquidine. A mere dab — and presto . . . one's headlight is dimmed. THURSDAY — Holy horrors — is this a new wrinkle upon my noble brow? Is youth playing traitor to me? MEMO — don't fail to get Valaze Anti-Wrinkle Cream — p.d.q. — today. FRIDAY— Stopped off at the Helena Rubinstein salon for beauty treatment. This is my luxury day. To be exquisitely en sconced in the sanctuary of art moderne — to be caressed by trusted fingers — to feel the tenseness ease away — to know that the world's greatest beauty authority planned this technique and that only her famous creations are permitted to associate with my skin . . . and then to behold my visage rejuvenated — what bliss! In all modesty, must say I do look ravishing now. Fortu nately, there's no prohibition against beauty. SATURDAY— Cleanse with Cleansing and Massage Cream. (And whenever I can, I'm going to be luxurious and buy Water Lily Cleansing Cream.) Smooth on the animating, clearing Valaze Skinfood and continue its use, year in and year out — in between use Bleaching Cream to brighten my bronzed beauty! PARIS NEW YORK LONDON 670 N. Michigan Ave., Chicago Telephone: Whitehall 4241 only their makeup. It is a kind of homey place down under the stage, for there aren't any men allowed, and there is a bit of a boarding school atmos- phere. One meets the special end pony. Huge signs warn the addicts of the nicotine weed, and it is also a place placarded chastely, "No Children Allowed.''1 Relics THE Town, despite the traditional short shift it gives reminders of a former time within its borders, pos sesses three early relics. Symbolically enough, the three are relics of trans portation. First in interest is the anchor of Co lumbus'' flagship, the Santa Maria, wrecked off Hayti on Christmas Eve in 1492. Found and identified, the anchor came to the Chicago Historical Society. Fortunately, it is of iron, for had it been less durable it might have been cut to pieces like the tree which marked the site of the Fort Dearborn massacre. Next is the Viking dragon-ship in Lincoln Park, "that Swede boat" as a protecting copper calls it. It is not a relic precisely, but a replica of the type of craft in which Lief Ericson stormed to Wineland 900 years before the Vol stead Act. It came from Norway with its own crew during the World's Fair. Finally, there is the Pioneer, the first woodburning locomotive to snort in the future rail center of the continent. The Pioneer came here by sailboat in '48. It is retired to permanent exhibition at the Northwestern station. Thrill LIKE sprawling boa constrictors, "Automobile Roller-Coasters" or "Speedways11 or "Bump-the-Bumps,11 as they are severally labeled, festoon high ways about the Town. They are as similar in structure as they are various in name, and consist invariably of a score or so of acres decorated with an undulating wooden pathway just wide enough to permit one automobile to glide between its unpainted wooden railings. The pathway rolls viciously, and is occasionally lifted 1 5 or 20 feet from the ground. The autoist, after paying a paltry fee, is privileged to drive its lilting length at whatever speed pleases him, and the faster the better for the thrill seeker. Nor are the passers-by reluctant, apparently, to give trial to the latest roadside fad. As fast as gatekeepers permit, cars rumble through the admission gates to go tear ing over the bumps with cut-outs roar ing, springs protesting, and brakes en tirely forgotten. Shrieks and roars from the passengers are up to those heard on most hair-raising devices of amusement parks. After the ride — and the screams — patrons are at liberty to disembark for hot dogs and coffee after which they compose themselves for a continued journey across the Illinois flatlands. A prosaic trip, once the hill tops of a roller-coaster have thundered the rid er's pulse. Racket HERE'S a racket that is being worked in Chicago; it is not of Chicago, but of New York. By lit erary magazines too. The two maga zines offer a four-months' subscription for one dollar. The first publication sells for 35 cents, the second 40. There is a savings of forty and sixty cents on the two magazines. Sounds good. Only a dollar bill. Take one from your purse and pin it to the card. Mail it in. A week or two later you receive two copies of the magazine in question. Ah, a new magazine. But wait! Two copies of numbers for two months past. In short, the magazine for the present month and one for the past. Since the number for the present month is al ways sold the month previous, the sub scriber has two old numbers of the magazine. Three days later a number for the next month comes along. Okeh. And in another month another new one. Two authentically new maga zines are thus vended for a dollar; chances are that you have read the two previous numbers and that will make your cost fifty cents each or a loss to your pocketbook. Well, it's a good way to get rid of old numbers. You mentally kick your self in the jeans and shrug your shoul ders. It's only a buck. Charge it off to experience. Art THE Institute guard who makes his rounds in galleries where Paul Gaugin and his countryman Cezanne unquestionably vex Domenico Theoto- copuli (El Greco) in his huge golden frame, leaned from a fresh autumn window the other day. "It's days like this," he said, "I wish I was out of this art and sitting in a duck blind on the Illinois River." TI4ECUICAG0AN 29 etter cars GREATER VALUES Again Justify Public Belief in Cadillac The car owners of America look to Cadillac (or leadership in values— (or finer cars year by year — for the price advantage resulting from increasing public demand and growing volume. Cadillac has not disappointed its friends. The new models of Cadillac, La Salle and Fleetwood have again led the way in the number and character of fundamental improve ments. And there is a marked re duction in delivered prices. The quickest way to realize what all this means to you is to inspect the cars now on our floor. A repre sentative showing of the new models awaits your pleasure. Cadillac Motor Car Company Dirision of General Motors Corporation CHICAGO BRANCHES 2301 South Michigan Avenue 5020 Harper Avenue 5201 Broadway 119 South Kedzie Avenue 2015 E. 71st St 4114 Irving Park Boulevard 1810 Ridge Avenue, Evanston 108 North First Street, Highland Park 818-826 Madison Street, Oak Park NEW NEW NEW CADILLAC LaSALLE FLEETWOOD Listen to WMAQ. 83-°to 9 °-° P. M.Thursdays, for the Cadillac -LaSalle Dramatic Radio Programs 30 THECI4ICAGOAN BRUNSWICK RECOR WSONG OF THE NILE1 bom the Motion PtcfareuDWkQn The delta ditty that adsr.oida! Anthony warbled to cloying Cleo Vocal Solo by NICK LUCAS No. 4464 Fox Trot by COLONIAL CLUB ORCHESTRA No. 4486 Organ Solo by LEW WHITE No. 4524 jrom the Motion P/ctare "THF DANCE OF LIFE" Lurid lyrics about a lure lassie named Lou Vocal Solo by DICK ROBERTSON No. 4481 Fox Trot by MEYER DAVIS ORCHESTRA No. 4470 "The STk G E It Just Keefis Roll in . . . By CHARLES COLLINS IN this age of blue-ribbon pinning, when fictitious honors are being awarded right and left — to the Books of the Month, the Ten Best Plays of the Year, etc. — something ought to be done about Florens Ziegf eld's Show Boat. It deserves a title. It is the top- notch something or other. It may be only a musicalisation of Edna Ferber's novel, and the most effective musical comedy of a decade; but I suspect that it is something more. It may be the great, undiscovered American opera. At any rate, it gives me a ready answer to the eternal question, "What's the best show in town?" Show Boat is a by- word, of course; its fame covers the past two years and nearly everyone has seen it in New York, if not in London. It is only nee essary to chronicle the fact that it is now unfolding its rich ritual of song and story at the Illinois; and to an- nounce that its cast has not been cheap- ened for the western trade. From Jules Bledsoe, whose magnificent voice vi' brates through Old Man River, to Howard Marsh, the dandy gambler, the phalanx of originals is present, almost complete. The two new names should evoke applause rather than criticism, for Irene Dunne is utterly charming as the dulcet Magnolia, and Margaret Carlisle is exactly right as the octoroon actress. If asked to name a toast of the town for the fall, I should elect Miss Dunne without a second thought. Well, Show Boat is here at last; and like the mighty river that forms the background of its story and inspires Jerome Kern's brilliant score, "it just keeps rollin' along." Three Ages ETHEL BARRYMORE is thin and beautiful this season. So is her play, The Kingdom of God, now at the Harris. Your modern Spanish dramatist, such as G. Martinet Sierra, author of this piece, scorns plot' fabrication, and dwells loquaciously upon character with an undercurrent of mellow wis- dom about life and death and the im- mortal soul of man. Your typical American first-nighter dislikes him, and thinks that he does not know his busi ness. Myself, I could sit up with gabby Spanish dramatists all night, even when they are dealing with fragmentary epi sodes in the careers of nuns, as in this case. Miss Barrymore is nineteen years old in the first act, when Sister Gracia is trying her apprentice hand at the easy task of pampering the inmates of an old men's home. She is twenty-nine years old in the second act, when Sis ter Gracia breaks down among the hys terical aftermaths of sin at a maternity home and is tempted to renounce her vows. She is seventy years old in the third act, when Sister Gracia is the chatelaine of an orphanage, where the boys start a mutiny because they do not get enough red peppers in their soup. And all through she is a woman with a radiant soul, changing with the years but holding steadfast to her vocation of service to the outcasts of the world. The role, in its three aspects, calls for a tour de force of technique such as actresses dearly love. Miss Barrymore finds The Kingdom of God a highly effective vehicle for her vivid personality and her emotional appeal. The play is impressively Hispanic in its treatment of atmosphere. Romeo with Two Juliets THE Goodman Theater opened its season with Romeo and Juliet in a duplex setting, and with two Juliets to sigh, "Parting is such sweet sorrow," on alternate evenings. A Shakespear ean tragedy is a lofty target for our earnest lake-front repertorians, but they face the classic traditions bravely, throw away many of them in favor of modern ideas in reading the immortal text, and generally speaking give an excellent ac count of themselves in a difficult under taking. The staging, an adaptation of Eliza' bethan methods permitting action on two levels, without scene- changes, af fords the play opportunity to flow along in its own current. And when Shake speare is presented in this manner, it is always discovered that he was a bet' ter dramatist than his adaptors. At the Goodman, Romeo and Juliet speaks for itself, in practically a total text; and yet it is as alive and cumulative as if TWCCWICAGOAN 31 it had been plotted by a contemporary with an eye on the motion-picture rights. Katherine Krug, the Juliet of the premiere, brings the physical aspects of the role closer to a fourteen-year-old maid, ripe for connubial bliss, than any actress within my memory. In this in terpretation the child and the bride are intimately blended. To this natural advantage Miss Krug adds a felicity of diction which brings out the poetry of the great speeches without over-empha sis. Hers is a cool Juliet, but jt is gen tle and touching. The performance of the alternate heroine, Joan Madison, could not be viewed in time for a report in this issue. Harry Mervis's Romeo is virile, eager and high-spirited; B. Iden Payne's Mercutio is a skilled treatment of Shakespeare's gayest blade; Roman Bohnen's Tybalt is grimly truculent; Whitford Kane's Friar Lawrence is obesely Dominican; Neal Caldwell's Benvolio is debonair; and Dorothy Ray mond's Nurse is shrewdly Rabelaisian. I have seen many casts in Romeo and Juliet that were less competent and enjoyable. B< earing Down on Bernhardt SARAH BERNHARDT and reju venation form the subject'matter of the Rider Haggardesque play called Fires of Youth, which has been staged at the Cort. Just suppose, says the author— Robert McLaughlin, theater manager in Cleveland, O. — that the Divine Sarah, at the age of seventy- seven, by aid of blood transfusion and a mysterious Egyptian drug, became young again and pretended to be her own grand-niece who wants to play L'Aiglon in English. Wouldn't that startle you more than a two-page blood- and-thunder spread in a Sunday news paper supplement? The play staggers in its second act, and its trick ending — "it was only a dream" — takes the edge off its uncan- niness. But the far-fetched contrap tion moves and fascinates. It has the atrical vitality, and an air of novelty in spite of the memories of Blac\ Oxen which it arouses. Its science, more over, is so pseudo that it is saved from the vulgarity of gland-transplantation hocus-pocus. Eugenie Leontovich, easily remem bered as Mr. Pepys' soubrette wife in And So to Bed, is the star, and she is so much like Sarah Bernhardt in old age that one almost listens for the creak itoihim anel s Number 77 One of those subtle frocks which become famous without losing dis tinction . . . The Franklin reproduction has the same exquisite detail as the original ... in black with a touch of white pique at neck and wrist ... $125 CHICAGO 132 East Delaware PI. NEW YORK 16 16 East 53rd Street ? " ^ > ft PHILADELPHIA \JJ\rS I I I 260 South 17th Street I I • wach hui rhxxruuxxY/nc SOUTHAMPTON BAR HARBOR YORK HARBOR PALM BEACH TUECUICAGOAN w> HERE the CAMEL MEETS the BEAVER... IT'S a far cry from the desert I home of the camel to the beaver dams of Canada. But Jaeger combines the beauti fully soft, lustrous fur of the beaver with the light, warm fibres of the camel's hair into a coat for milady of fashion .. . The pleasing tone contrasts, the smart style and the unques tioned quality of a fur-trim med camelhair coat by Jaeger merit your consideration. For instance, the coat above is priced at $14?. There are other models up to $225. Jaeger \Jlhe VOGUE in WOOLLENS 222 N. Michigan Avenue Chicago of the wooden leg. The name of Bern hardt, of course, is never mentioned; the character is called Paula Daudet; but, nevertheless, direct photography has been achieved, both by the play wright and the actress. This piece is a fanciful dramatization of the Bern hardt legend, and as such is worth seeing. George Nash, as a hard-boiled doctor with a monomania for eternal youth, and Frank Monroe, as the manager of the actress's farewell tours, fortify the cast with the skill and authority of veterans. Cream in Our Coffee HOLD EVERYTHING, at the Grand Opera House, is a musical comedy of the sports-news pages, like Good News and Follow Through. The former, you may remember, dealt with football; the latter with golf. The pres ent frolic finds its merriment in the biographies of the high-hat boxers, such as Gene Tunney and Tommy Lough- ran. The plot, in each case, runs in the same pattern; and I'm afraid that by the time the librettists get down to the pastime of horse-shoe pitching I may get tired of it. You're the Cream in My Coffee is the historic song of Hold Everything. The high moment of the action occurs when Sunny Jim Brooks, the boy gladi ator, trades punches with the welter weight champion and wins the title in one furious round. Bert Lahr, as a rough fairy of the prize-ring, is the show's laugh-getter, and his freakish vein of comedy makes him the most easily remembered figure in the cast. John E. Young, an old-timer, is also helpful in the merriment, and Nina Olivette is successful as the lady clown. George Murphy, the leading juvenile, is at least a plausible boxer; and Helen Gilligan, playing the trainer's daughter, who complicates the love story, is gra- cile in the dances. The show is not as good as Follow Through, but it will serve. Like a Plush Horse "OPLENDIFEROUS" is the proper O adjective for Fioretta, the Earl Carrollism now at the Erlanger. This entertainment is an old-style comic op era, dressed so pretentiously and or nately that it burlesques itself. It gives the impression of having cost more money than The Miracle, and the ef fect is an incongruous as if a world's lo a Dark Brown Taste College Inn Tomato Juice Cocktail WHEN you can't face the thought of Monday and it's only Sunday morning . . . and you KNOW you look like a picnic in Central Park . . . it's time to pour a glass of College Inn Tomato Juice Cocktail. What a bracer ! The invigorating juice of sun-ripened tomatoes blended with spices and lemon ... is ready to serve. Food shops sell it . . . drug stores serve it. College Inn Food Products Co., Chicago. Chicken a la King Welsh Rarebit . Lobster a la Newburg ChopSuey . . Cream of Tomato Soup ? ? ? ? L GERTRUDE KOPELMAN GERTRUDE KOPELMAN Gowns and Wraps for the Opera Moderately Priced 328 North Michigan Avenue i 4 4 Dine At RICKETTS in the wee hours of the morning after the party or cabaret. . . . You'll always find some delight' fully different suggestions ... a tasty steak sandwich . . . chicken ala k i n g . . . or a delicious strawberry waffle ... at . RICKETTS Waffle Shop 2727 North Clark Street at Diversay TWECWICAGOAN 33 series crowd were to attend a sand-lot baseball game. The libretto deals with eighteenth century Venice, and gondoliers, carni val mountebanks, and doges are all over the place. The plot is complex and somehow familiar; it probably comes from some source in the standard op eretta repertory. A duelist is con demned to die, but before he is shot, to help out the intrigues of the prime minister, he is married blind-folded to an unknown bride, who happens to be the girl he loves. After the execution he comes to life, because the comedian had removed the bullets from the mus kets of the firing squad; and presently you see him fighting up and down the grand stairway of the ducal palace with a horde of bravos, like a veritable Douglas Fairbanks. Leon Enroll leads the cast as a gro tesque gondolier. Except in one scene of heavy drinking, where Mr. Erroll always shines, he is not the infallible buffoon of other years. Something seems to tell me that Fioretta makes this extremely active clown very tired. Evangeline Raleigh is a sweet picture as the heroine, and Alexander Callam cuts a dash as the swaggering swords man who mocked at death while the chorus sang merrily, "Fioretta, tra la la la la la la la." Post Mortem The Game Is Played Over 4 4\ A /HAT a pity that poor boy is V V injured. If I had a son I'd never let ..." "I told you the team'd come back, didn't I? Now I went out to watch practice Wednesday and I told . . ." "Yeah, I got a little left. You go down and get the orange juice ..." "Say, I remember back in the nine ties when only one side of the line weighed over ..." "But, my dear, don't you want to see the last half? The tea dance won't start till ..." "Oh, Herbie, Rogers Hornsby's name isn't in the line-up anywhere, and I thought ..." "Hey, where the devil is that cork? Well, get down and look . . ." "And I had to cut all of Friday's classes to get to this darling game; the train service, you know ..." D. C. P. TWICE AS OLD . . . AND ONLY HALF AS LOVELY IT would be laughable, if it weren't so tragic — the way that many women lavish care upon their faces . . . while day by day their smooth young throats are growing lined and old through sheer neglect. A throat that looks middle-aged mocks at the loveliest face. A crepe -like texture of throat adds years to a woman's ap pearance . . . destroys half her beauty. And yet no one need ever lose the satin -smoothness of her throat — -cruel lines and ugly flabbiness need never mar its beauty. With a little care — wise, intelligent care — you can keep your throat a smooth young column of loveliness. And if the wicked signs of neg lect have already begun to age your appearance, you can ban ish them with proper 1 reatment. Dorothy Gray spent years evolving treatments and prep arations for preventing crepy throat, and for correcting it. If it is impossible for you to visit one of the Dorothy Cray salons you can still follow these treat ments in your own home. The same exquisite preparations which have proved so remark ably successful in the Dorothy Gray salon treatments may be had at leading shops every where. Ask for the booklet-. "Your Dowry of Beauty.' It explains the Dorothy Gray method in full. i i). <;., 3919 DOROTHY CRAY 900 MICHIGAN AVENUE, NORTH Through the arched doorway of the Jarvis-Hunt Building NEW YORK LOS ANGELES SAN FRANCISCO WASHINGTON ATLANTIC CITY 34 TUE CHICAGOAN is the mode DELIGHTFULLY INTERPRETING THE MODERNE ^•i lewesl oyOriage, (junior, and c) able <=bamfis, tvilk Qflica GfLaJes. $18.00 to $25.75 at E COMMONWEALTH EDISON O LECTRIC SHOPO 72 West Adams Street, Chicago Federal Coupons Given Appropriate Music and Diversified Entertainment for AH Occasions Mentor H. Otto R. Koretz Sieloff One-Six-Two North State Street Dearborn 8664 HTie CINEMA Immortality, of a Sort By WILLIAM R. WEAVER DOOM isn't what it used to be. Death itself has become a quali- fied fact. Last evening I put down the newspaper wherein I had finished reading the story of Jeanne Eagel's fu- neral and stepped over to a neighbor' hood cinema to see her in all but the flesh and Jealousy, a talking-picture fleshly enough to rather more than off set actual corporeal absence of its play ers. For the sixty minutes of the performance Jeanne Eagels was a liv ing, breathing actress, the newspaper account of her death a press agent's fraud or a Mark Twain exaggeration. Thus the new immortality, such as it is. This curious after-life of the dra matic artist has undergone a change more or less consistent with that of civilisation since the passing of John Bunny gave a gaping world its first ghastly spectacle of a comedian cavort ing among plaster-barrels and skidding Fords while flowers were yet fresh upon his mound. A 5-and-10 follow ing dashed madly and only a little morbidly to view his pictures; it came away indisposed toward dinner. Bunny's was the first notable death. A subsequent box-office generation, a 10-and-25 crowd this time, stormed theaters exhibiting romantic works of the suddenly stilled Harold Lockwood and recoiled abashed. Pity saved heroic Wallace Reid's posthumous pro ductions from all but the reverent few. Only Valentino among the mummers, and he perhaps principally because of his three thousand mile funeral, held in death a sway greater than in life. But these were mummers. A dif ferent destiny seems in store for to day's casualties. No one stays away from The Argyle Case, nor leaves it uncomfortably, because the late Gladys Brockwell is a principal in it. Audibility seems to make a difference. Perhaps it is merely that dialogue en forces an attentiveness that leaves no room for mortuary speculation. A talking-picture performance by a de ceased player is no more mournful than a Caruso recording. Death has lost its sting for screen stars. GETTING back to Jealousy, Jeanne Eagels and Fredric March have in it the roles played by Fay Bainter and John Halliday in the recent per sonal engagement at the Adelphi. But Miss Eagels and Mr. March are not, as were they, the entire cast. The screen version brings in all the persons, places and events made known to be holders of the stage play by telephone, offstage hawking of extra editions and triple- action dialogue. To the quiet genius of Mr. Monta Bell, producer, be it set down that the additional char acters, speeches and events mesh smoothly with the original to consti tute a well rounded, compact whole. Little if any editing of the stage speeches has been done; the picture is the first to enunciate "mistress" clearly and repeatedly. Nor have the extenu ating circumstances, secret weddings and similar devices for tempering the stage play to the screen public, been inserted by producer of censor; the production is available to adults only in Chicago. The performances of the stars and at least one other player, Halliwell Hobbes, are polished, point ed, effective portrayals. The plot is less strikingly unfolded but no less striking. It is, on all points, the most interesting local exhibition of the fortnight. "Say It With Songs THE story's terrible, the plot creaks like a rusty hinge, nothing happens that would and everything happens that wouldn't. But Al Jolson sings his head off, Davey Lee gives an excellent portrayal of Davey Lee, and if you sit dry-eyed and unmoved through Say It With Songs you should have gone to see a doctor instead of a motion-picture in the first place. "The Lady Lies THE censors who restricted JeaP ousy to adult observation could have done the Town a favor by dis- posing similarly of The Lady Lies. In tact, it is the better of the two plays. Incised, abridged and denatured within an inch of incoherency, it is still a good evening's pastime. Walter Huston and Claudette Col bert are the principals. Charles Ruggles and Betty Gorde are a second ary pair. Tom Brown and Patricia Deering are precocious juveniles whose THE CHICAGOAN 35 interests four sinful adults quite ethic ally and perfectly adjust. Amid much exchange of pointed dialogue, shifting of domestic scenery, drinking of plain and fancy beverages and donning and doffing of attire. There is, also, an extremely well told Scotch story, new to me, and if the talkies are going to go through the Lauder repertoire I'm going to take up marksmanship. Bulldog Drummond RONALD COLMAN, despaired of for a time when talking became a Hollywood necessity, is a dashing, debonair and yet convincing English man in this hair-trigger story of ad venture sought, won and survived. It is a swift bit of fiction, colorful in spots, comic in others, a bit clinical here and there but altogether fresh, not too mysterious and yet not too evi dent. Montagu Love is best of several able supporting players. It is not worth standing in line to see at the United Artists but well worth drop ping in upon in the neighborhood cinemas. The Unholy Night" PERHAPS someone can explain why Lionel Barrymore should inflict his atrocious silent personality upon the screen public for five or six years and then, when Western Electric offers re lief, obscure his extremely competent vocal talent behind the directorial sig nature. I cannot. But I can pro nounce his several recent directorial ef forts excellent and The Unholy Night superb. Perhaps he counts a dozen well directed performances better than one well played. Roland Young, of happy local mem ory as The Queens Husband, has his first stellar role in The Unholy Tvfrght. The part is not of the kind described as "fat," but he puts into it a realism that sheds a highly necessary semblance of logic over the melodramatic events of the play. What these are it is not polite writing to say; a mystery plot should be seen and not heard about. "In the Headlines IT is publishing tradition that all plays, books and short stories depict ing the so-called life of newspaper peo ple shall be promptly and vigorously declared inaccurate, piffling, trite and altogether terrible. Which tradition is dissected at this point by the state ment that Grant Withers is a more like a reporter in In the Headlines than GYPSY BARON The New FLANUL FELT For Fall From the provinces of Austria comes the muse to guide the hand of one of America's foremost hat geniuses in the creation of the Gypsy Baron, the new Flanul Felt Hat for Fall and Winter. It is an original creation, that will definitely influence the next headwear style cycle. It is a veri table paradox... gay as a Gypsy... dignified as a Baron. The crown is almost square. The brim is wider with a pronounced roll. The band is wide and is a shade lighter in color than the hat. The binding is thin and graceful and matches the band. Gypsy Baron is a sophisticated hat with a distinctive Continental flair that will grace smartly the head of any well dressed man. The hats run the gamut of colors for the season . . . nine shades in all . . . to complete correctly any sartorial ensemble. $ 10 A^tarr Best / 1^ Randolph and Wabash ??? CHICAGO FINE CLOTHES for MEN and BOYS THE CHICAGOAN A chef who under stands the subtleties of foreign and native cookery — With a treasury of choice foods— truffles and mussels from France, sole from Eng land, lobster from Bos ton, pompano and crabs from New Orleans— And gay dancing, or quiet corners for the tete-a-tete. Over all, the warm friendliness that is typically L'Aiglon's — The happy choice — always— for luncheon, dinner or supper. L'Aiglon Twenty-two East Ontario Delaware 1909 YOU CAN BENEFIT by drinking CHIPPEWA Natural Spring Water "The Purest and Softest Spring Water in the World" Bottled at the Spring Not a medicine. Just the safest and best drinking water that money can buy. Try drinking eight glasses of Chip pewa Water daily for a period of two weeks. Phone Roosevelt 2920 Chippewa Spring Water Company 1318 S. Canal St. SHIPPED EVERYWHERE Meyer Levin is in The Daily News and Edmund Breese is more like a city editor than any city editor in this or any city ever dared to be. In addition to the foregoing unim- portant detail, In the Headlines is a rousing recital of a newspaper report' er's attempt to solve a double murder. It is gay in contrast to the gloom cus tomarily strewn about these Sher- lockian things, it is humorous, bright, mysterious only secondarily and yet a good deal more baffling than the entire series of red, white and blue murders. For reasons that are none of my business, In the Headlines was exhibited downtown at one of the lesser cinemas. It is an excellent reason for going to the neighborhood house that announces it. Her Private Life" PROBABLY no one could play Ethel Barrymore's role in Declasse well enough to please persons who have seen Miss Barrymore play it. As well, then, to give up the idea of casting an equivalent talent for the part and cast therein a player so beautiful that she need not be, for practical purposes, a particularly competent a c t r e s s — in other words, Billie Dove. But the producers of Her Private Life did not depend wholly upon Miss Dove's beauty. They gave her one of the finest settings a motion-picture star has ever posed against. They gave her a cast such as has supported few stars of stage or screen in any endeavor. And Miss Dove repaid them by giving a better performance than anyone — in cluding, very likely, Billie Dove — ever believed she had to give. The result is a quite satisfying entertainment. The Cock-Eyed World" THE following letter has been re ceived from Dorothea V. Pinsky, 1130 Manor Avenue, Bronx, New York, where I had no suspicion the pale paragraphs of this department penetrated : SIR: I have just finished reading your review of The Coc\'Eyed World. You compare it to What Price Glory, but if I am not mistaken you've got the wrong heroine. Dolores Del Rio played the feminine lead in What Price Glory. Renee Adoree played in The Big Parade. Which seems to show (for Miss Pinsky, unlike the ladies and gentle men who write letters to Frederick Donaghey, is perfectly correct in her recollection) that The Coc\-Eyed World is well titled. Please make the correction in your file copy. Also Showing The CocK'Eyed World.- Gayest, gaudiest and best of the war comedies. [Go.] Lucky Star: Janet Gaynor and Charles Farrell in a partially vocal extension of their Seventh Heaven series. [Perhaps.} Illusion: Buddy Rogers and Nancy Car roll in highly engaging backstage ro mance. [Yes.] Woman Trap: Hal Skelly of The Dance of Life and Chester Morris of Alibi in a picture unlike either but good as both. [Certainly.] Hard to Get: Dorothy Mackaill etches another flapper, with the valuable assist ance of Jack Oakie. [If light-hearted.] Skin Deep: Monte Blue's best talking pic ture, if that means anything. [Possibly.] The Drake Case: Another of those things, good as the next. [If crime entertains you.] Street Girl: Betty Compson, Jack Oakie and others in a snappy little yarn about jazz musicians. [Attend.] Alibi: The best crook picture ever made. [Go.] The Dance of Life: Burlesque with a bit of whitewashing and Hal Skelly. [If you didn't see the show.] Words and Music: Collegiate musical comedy, neither collegiate, musical nor comic. [No.] Grand Opera Past and Future [begin on page 15] role of society reporter. Mrs. Charles King Corsant, who saw the other opera house at its first opening when she was still little Edna Bensinger, hopes to be present at the premiere. In the show on the musical side of the footlights no Adelina Patti is expected to make an appearance, but Rosa Raisa and Cyrena Van Gordon are sure to receive ova tions as favorites. And at the same time, Mrs. Potter Palmers radiant scar let crepe will not be seen; but Mrs. Rockefeller McCormick will be present in her center box, in all the glory of her famous emeralds. Where once Ferdinand Peck was ac claimed the parent of the operatic venture, so now will be Mr. Insull. CERTAIN it is that no fretting line of broughams will choke up the streets. But one wonders whether, at the close of the evening, any one detailed to the job will be able to say as it was said 40 years ago: "One- third of all the carriages in the city drove up here tonight, and departed without a single accident." But, too, it must be remembered that in '89 the one-third consisted of only 500 car- TWC CHICAGOAN 37 riages. Certain it is that access to the theater will be greatly simplified in the new house. Only last season, an out standing feature of the opening night was the mishap of a young lady who, like hundreds of others, was forced to leave her automobile a block from the entrance and who, in her dash for the doorway, slipped on the icy pavement and ruined her costume and composure for the evening. But once again ladies' skirts will brush against pavements the luxurious carpets as they have done for almost a decade. We progress towards November 4th as to a crucial point in city history. Anticipation of the events of that eve ning has already attained a pitch which verges on hysteria. Whether or not the city will respond to the appeal to civic pride which the opera organiza tion now puts forth in like measure to that in which it responded to the unostentatious announcements of a sea son of "Grand Italian Opera11 remains to be seen. But those of us who are not to pass through the wide portals before midnight of November 4th, will do well to start at once on the arduous task of fabricating excuses which will be in some degree satisfactory to ac cusingly interrogative grandchildren. And if we manage to restrain our curiosity by remaining away from the locale of that gorgeous performance, thereby in a sense thumbing our noses to spite our faces, can be sure that there will be many a critical watcher lurking in the streets around the theater and in the many corridors of its interiors. There is a legend to the effect that opera ghost retain their interest in ter- restial affairs far longer than those which prowl in mediaeval castles, priv ate libraries, or stock brokerage houses. And surely when the performers of one of the greatest shows on earth, the Opera Audience, start filing through the chaste but luxurious doors of 20 North Wacker Drive, not all of the interest focussed on them will be that of their contemporaries. Many a queen who knew not Joseph will be preening herself in the luxury of an elegantly upholstered box. Yet even she, willy nilly, will have come into the 40 year heritage which poetess Monroe so dauntlessly prophesied, and even she will inherit the traditions which were fostered in the tumultuous hours of December 9, 1889. She should play her part well. Only on her side of the curtain, with the possible exception of Oberamergau, is a role ever in rehear sal for 40 years. o o o o o a • cA^odlifu^ °JuyiMJt o o o o Wrap of Black l\u/j-iari Broadtail ••• Collar of Silver fox berman Furj Famou/ wherever fine fu rj are known -Ifeady or mode fo your order by o yfalf that ha J • no superior today" Dy [Louis Berman Co 320-MICWICAN-AVE-NORTM 38 THE CHICAGOAN TONIGHT in the main restaurant If you're planning an evening's diversion in the Loop, come to the Brevoort for a delightful prelude: a menu offering an intriguing variety of excellent foods; intelligent service; an en vironment at once cheering and restful. You'll have plenty of time to enjoy a leisurely meal. Entrance Direct or Through Lobby HOTEL BREVOORT Madison St. East of LaSalle St. MU/ICAL NOTE/ The Americans Return in Glory By ROBERT POLLAK LAST year the American Opera * Company rated as a highly specu lative and doubtful security. It seems suddenly to have turned into a gilt- edged bond. What accounts for the difference lies within the mysterious regions of the publicity strategists. The sponsors of the company laid careful plans long before the opening Faust on the evening of October 7. They called to their assistance a cohort of women who worked mightily to make this na tive company fashionable on the Gold Coast and in Lake Forest. Their re sults have been amazing. Rosing's group has been playing steadily to packed houses. Dowagers have entered the portals of the Majestic to a salvo of flashlight bombs. The gleaming ar ray of boiled shirts has been as im pressive as it is at the Civic Opera. And the opera-going masses, attracted by the glitter and the glare, not as at tentive as usual to the names of great principals and famous conductors, have joined in the popular procession. The net results are peculiarly grati fying. Not that Rosing's company is any better this season than last. If anything, it loses by reason of the ab sence of the imposing George Hous ton, whose Figaro is still a memorable portrait. But it possesses the definite essentials that made its ensemble so stimulating in the past, namely, youth, unconventionality in the best sense, brilliant mise-en-scene, adequate voices, and a well-trained small orchestra more than competently conducted. ROSING as a stage director is gift ed with a keen imagination. For instance, in the first act of Faust, in stead of allowing the vision of Margaret to appear in the flesh under a calcium light and behind a hopelessly obvious wire screen, he makes Faust and Mephisto peer into a crystal, the only point of light in a vast and gloomy stage set. All of his stage business is tempered either with this sensitive re gard for impressive illusion or with the results of his observation of how char acters act in any given stage predica ment. The costuming and scenery by Robert Edmond Jones easily outrank any similar operatic department in this country. Isaac Van Grove has assembled a diligent and efficient or chestra and he steps into St. Leger's place after years of experience at the podium. He combines, as a musician, an inspiring vitality with a genuine subtlety. The principal roles, sung by Clifford Newdall, John Moncrieff, and Natalie Hall, wereTiandled^easily and intelligently. And the voices, particu larly NewdalFs, were always good enough. THE only novelty in the repertoire of the company is an American work, Tolanda of Cyprus, composed by Clarence Loomis of Chicago, with a libretto by Cale Young Rice, a bard from Louisville, Kentucky. This piece had its world premiere on the evening of October 9. It is easy to under stand the ambition of the American Opera Company to produce an Ameri can Opera, but why they picked this one is a mystery to your reporter. Loomis, as a composer, has virtually nothing to say. He attempts to sur round the basic idea of Yolanda's resignation with the orchestral colors of Debussy and Strauss. He succeeds in getting a whimpering imitation of the former and a pallid and under scored version of the latter. From first to last, with the exception of an effective moment or two by an offstage chorus, there is not an original or stimulating moment in his score. As if Loomis were conscious of the fact that he had nothing new to say. But in striving for the cliches of a few out-of- date "modem" idioms he fails to insert the two or three rousing melodies that might have put a little life into this orchestral corpse. Rice's libretto is as sappy a bit of stage writing as we've heard in many a day. If this silly book were worth analysis it would seem evident that the initial sacrifice of the heroine is a futile one, only serving to make more people miserable in a bigger and better way. The text is replete with the mustiest platitudes of the cloak-and- sword school of drama. It is so bad, dear readers, that it tempts one to dis credit the whole idea of opera in English. Under the strain of these insuper able difficulties the company made as TME CHICAGOAN 39 dignified a job of Tolanda as possible. I shudder to think of what traditional operatic histrionics would have done with it. Natalie Hall, owner of a sweet little lyric soprano, managed the title role. Newdall, Moncrieff, Kull- mann and Edith Piper made an addi tional quadrangle of leads. Van Grove struggled manfully through the morass of the score. Two dogmatic conclusions may be drawn from Tolanda. The first that the whole business never really hap pened with Mr. Rosing's consent. The seconaVthanhere is no point in giv ing fine direction and magnificent in vestiture to American operas as a mat ter of duty to native art unless the creation deserves it. Who remembers Shanewis or Natoma or The Temple Dancer? When another American opera is composed with the sincere craftsmanship and textual beauty of The Kings Henchman it will be time for ballyhooing. The production of Loomis1 insipid work does more harm than good. Mil wauk.ee A MUSICAL adventure, this Mil- . waukee Symphony Orchestra. I journeyed there this last fortnight and found Frank Laird Waller at the baton of a cooperative symphony (we all split the profits, if any) that boasts a fine set of strings, good horns and some promis ing wood-winds. The program, the Rosamunde Overture, the Schehera' zade Suite, and a grand performance of the Gershwin Piano Concerto in F played by Helen Koch, a winsome and expert Chicago pianist. Waller makes good progress. The Pabst theater is as dismal a barn as I've ever seen, and an errant xylophonist was evidently mak ing his first acquaintance with the in strument, but the audience was fairly large and unqualifiedly enthusiastic. He has better than an even chance to give Milwaukee an orchestra of its own and to develop a responsive public for his band. marguerite carries on in her own inimi table way the pan's tradi tion of the haute couture establishments where the lady of discriminating taste may* have her gown made, her hat draped, select and plan her ward robe in quiet and seclusion. original imported models for immediate delivery, also copies from our own workrooms to vour individual order 1! 660 rush street at e r i e Harmonising Pastel Tints THOUGH its luxurious comfort is of course the most important feature of the SIMMONS BEAUTYREST MATTRESS, the delightful tints of the coverings in which it is now presented will be given serious con sideration by anyone with an eye to color harmony. Here you may have the lovely SIMMONS tickings or HALE'S own exclusive fabrics, priced *} Q# 50 from Js' HALE'S Specialists in Sleeping Equipment 516 N. Michigan Avenue CHICAGO Also in New York — Newark — Detroit U4E CHICAGOAN rhe CWICACOENNC Lengths and, Widths of Evening By MARCIA VAUGHN For the cinema goer a bit too keen to be entirely casual The 1929 Motion Picture Almanac announces a complete, timely, compact and authoritative survey of the American screen industry — principal entertainer to 40,000,000 of our population. Among other things a careful analysis of the talking picture the short feature presentation acts production and producers long runs film executives production costs films, new and in the making authoritative star biographies Price (Post paid) $2 The Herald-World Bookshop 37 W. Van Buren Street Chicago, Illinois On Sale at Marshall Field & Com pany, Brentano's, Krock'a Book Store, Post Office News and the Congress and Drake Hotels. MANY a man this winter will de cide he shouldn't have had that last one before dinner when his spouse appears arrayed for evening. For the woman that enters her boudoir a mere five-feet-four in street dress emerges at least five-feet-eleven in evening gown. Maybe this is a great sociologic movement as women, feeling their oats more and more, set up the heroic Ama zon as their ideal. Whatever it is, these trains, these yards and yards of sumptuous fabrics, will more than ever relegate the poor black and white male to the background. But press him too hard and the wretch will probably shout, "Yeah, and you look pretty hippy in those things1' — which, alas, is often too true, my dears. They are lovely, though, and the in creased height and more artistic propor tioning should more than compensate for the extra bulge that the high belt effects on all but the flattest damsels. Anyway, Venus has the bulge and many of the leading fall designs are so Grecian in feeling that she could put them on and seem perfectly at home. They are Grecian at least in the line to the knees where they usually begin billowing and fluttering into godets, ruffles or trains. One of these is a flesh chiffon by Lucille Paray — this flesh being suntanned — which has the bodice outlined by laurel leaves em broidered in suntan seed pearls and rhinestones, high in front and under the arm to a rather low decolletage in back. Except for a winglike ruffle that follows this beading from front to back and falls away in long loose ties, the tunic is a straight sheath to the knees, interrupted of course by a high narrow belt. At the knees it goes beserk in five tiers of narrow ruffles fluttering to the floor. The shoulder straps are very narrow, of seed pearls. Altogether a wonderfully graceful and statuesque gown that should make its wearer feel like stepping up to the opera house columns and doing a caryatid. It's of fered by Leschin. LESCHIN likes fishnet, as do many * shops and buyers about town, most of them in the duller browns, greens and blues. They ought to make good little frocks to fall back upon for many occasions through the winter but in this era of new silks and velvets and metals they can't excite me much. Velvet — there's a piece for you! Most of it stately panne and the most melt ing colors. Saks have one of the most striking velvets that has gladdened my eye in the ruby velvet wrap that Patou joins to a ruby chiffon dress. The dress trails the floor and the wrap just about hits the knee, with a wide wide band of Japanese mink. Huge collar and cuffs are of the mink too and the furred hem ripples from the smoothly fitted velvet body of the coat. Regal, is what it is with somehow a bit of a Strauss waltz hanging around it. Another regal affair is the Lelong en semble that Field's Costume Apparel section has acquired. This, in black velvet, the dress with long flowing sides and the short black velvet coat trimmed in white fox, is stunning. Field's are doing gorgeous things with black. A black panne has a very full tulle skirt bursting from the closely sheathed hips to the floor, and unusual back cut almost to the waist with a tulle insert into which petals of the panne extend in a sort of sunburst ef fect. The panne is appliqued on to the tulle skirt too. Right fetching. THEN, again, the dull, heavy failles and moires, are especially good for evening and distinguished as the dickens. Field's black faille swirled smoothly around the waist has a novel peplum on one side that turns into a long side drape on the other. The slanting neckline is held up by a wide strap on one side and a very narrow one on the other and two ragged flow ers of the faille, edged with a few rhinestones, give the only touch of color at the waist in back. No reser vations about this dress. It ought to be perfectly beautiful on anyone. Cheruit, probably bored for the mo ment by all this magnificence and state- liness, tossed off an impudent little thing that I believe is one of the triumphs of the season. At Field's it is shown with the body of pale blue moire and the full long skirt of blue starched chiffon. The moire extends into the chiffon in modernistic little TWECUICAGOAN 41 steps and there just isn't any back ex cept for the shoulder straps which are brought down and nonchalantly braid ed at the waist in back. With all these perfectly elegant eve ning wraps, and ensembles of dress and wrap, this year at the opera may mark the retirement of a few of the prominent coats that have been going to the Auditorium for years and years and years. Perhaps their owners have been waiting for just this renaissance of grandeur and will really startle us this season with something like the cloth of gold wrap at Field's which, for a change, is as long as the new dresses. Shorter in front it sweeps into a train in back and the high black fox collar completes the impression of queenli- ness. BUT we must run along to the new accessories. The brightest moment in my fall is the return of the evening glove. These soft sixteen-button eve ning gloves ripple graciously about the wrist in white, pale beige and pinky tones, and sometimes in black. The black is startling but should really be quite a help in making the milky white arm look milkier. On suntanned arms the paler shades are better, but of course it's the color of the dress that constrols the situation. Evening slippers are pretty thrilling. Devoted as I am to moire the shops couldn't show too much of it but if you are tired of the simple moire pump dyed to match your dress look at the tricky strap slippers which Saks show in this fabric. They are touched up with a fleur de lis trimming of silver or gold kid and to make us all happier Saks adds bags to match. The evening bag, being frequently a sort of after thought in the costume this idea of Saks is just what we need. They make their bags flat and very exquisitely fin ished though the frame is of the same sturdiness as the shoes — if you can call evening slippers sturdy — so that the bag will dye exactly the same shade as the shoes. Oh yes, they dye both bags and shoes to match your ensemble. For metal gowns look at the shoes and bag combinations of Moderne cloth, a French brocade in geometric designs on crepe de chine background. Vel vet is coming back into slippers. Saks also have a few good looking crepe embroidered all over and the Peacock shop in the Palmer House has some exquisite imported crepes delicately embroidered on the vamp. To meet the jewelry requirements of C-hicago s smartest gowned women has always been x rederic s privilege. PEARL SHOP FASHION JEWELERS AT ELEVEN EAST WASHINGTON CHICAGO »»FOR THE OPERA 1. ORjMAL wear bespeaks th< infli ofl; Pans mlluence in newness oi line ana ricbness oi labric. Crowns, wraps and accessories to lend atmosphere to a brilliant event. MADE-TO-ORDER AND READY TO WEAR 545 MICHIGAN AVENUE, NORTH 42 TWtCWICAGOAN Speaking of HORIZONS- How about your European horizon? Is it just pleasantly bounded by, say, les Ambassadeurs or the Cafe Madrid? Then next time you are over, do broaden it. Take a look at Madrid itself, for exam ple. You know . . . it's in And if you've never been to Spain, what a treat awaits you! For Spain is a fascinating country ... a land unlike any of your imaginings . . . a jewel of many facets, where each visitor finds new delights, new riches for himself alone. Everywhere there are surprises and thrills . . . the constant contrasts of old and new, primitive and mod' ern . . . and always, like a solemn diapason, the rich echoes of me dieval grandeur. Travel in Spain is easy, comfortable, mod ern. Sleeping car trains are plentiful. Motor roads are among the finest on the continent. (You can hire a car and drive it yourself with your American license.) There are marvelous and luxurious hotels, and good moderate-priced inns. Spain welcomes you . . . make it the gateway to the continent on your next trip! g>pam$l) Gfouttsit information 0iiitt Madrid, loftiest of Eu ropean capitals. ... El Escorial, the Middle Ages reincarnate. . . . Seville, city of gardens. . . . Barcelona and its boulevards . . . the Basque country . . . San Sebastian . . . Granada . . . let us tell you more about these and Spanish travel in gen eral. No cost or obli gation — we sell no tick ets, render service only. Spanish Tourist Infor mation Office, 695 Fifth Ave., Hew "Yor\. You can easily reach Spain from the conti nent by rail, water, air, motor — or you can sail direct, over the smooth southern course, on lux urious Spanish Royal Mail Liners. Booklets and bookings from any travel bureau, or Span ish Royal Mail Line, 24 State St.. Hew York; 80 Boyhton St., Boston; 175 X- Michigan Ave., Chi cago; 230 Post St., San Francisco; 423 W. 5th St., Los Angeles. GO, CHICAGO Where Men Are Men By LUCIA LEWIS THREE of them, all bronze, wiry hombres, gently insidious in speech, were the ones that set me a-flutter about a southwestern winter. They came up from the Arizona mines to an engineer's meeting here, and smiled their kindly smile at my feeble contribution anent one little trip to the Canyon and the Painted Desert. And after the smile, the deluge of words. No high pressure stuff or hot selling talk, mind you, but insinuating ripples about ranch cabins under the pines, the sun and sparkle of Castle Hot Springs; the buttery tenderness of Arizona quail and freshly-captured trout; that hilarious bouquet of yuccas they collected for the little woman after the nineteenth hole on the Bilt- more course (a peacemaking bouquet of huge flowers on tree-like stalks six or seven feet high seeming a splendid idea at the time) — and so on into the night. When it was all over I felt guilty because I had missed so many winters in the American Egypt. The fact that at least three separate spots call them selves the American Egypt — from Los Angeles to New Mexico — disturbs not one of them the least little bit. Well, they all have their points. ARIZONA winters are undoubtedly i fashionable in a nice American way that seems refreshing after much of the international dizziness of Cairo, Paris, and the like. Weather is, if anything, more Egyptian than along the Nile, except that the nights are cool. At high altitudes the winters are October's bright blue weather all the time. Then, this pleasant state is not all arid desert but a fresh tropical garden of grapefruit and lemons, date palms in the valleys and pines on the mountainside. While in the line of antiquities they have relics of the stone age, prehistoric cliff dwellings, and the last bitter marks of the Indians' struggle with their Great White Step father. People who fancy the Ritzes and Biltmores of the world will be de lighted with the Arizona Biltmore, rambling all over six hundred acres of ground near Phoenix. On these ex pansive acres are all the required facil ities for golf, tennis, polo, and very luxurious private bungalows if one prefers them to the main building. Right in back is the mountain range with its miles and miles and miles of riding trails. Always one rides in Arizona. At the resorts or up on the ranches the cowboys, with the ease of winter on their hands, guide dudes along the forest trails, help them perfect their riding ability, and put on the rodeos that are forever with us in the west. Castle Hot Springs offers an annual rodeo that puts to shame the circus edition we get in town where, of course, rodeos were never meant to be. EVERYTHING else about Castle Hot Springs is up to snuff too. It is a very well-managed hotel, attrac tive building with verandahed rooms so that guests may sleep in the open all winter, the usual tennis and golf, and grand horses. The unique fea tures are the curative waters of the springs, beloved of the old Apaches, and now a splendid idea for victims of high life in the big city. Swimming in the pools, piped and cooled from the mineral springs, is honestly beneficial and the most soothing thing you can find for exhausted nerves. None of this purposeful drinking (of spring waters) and bathing, gives a sanitarium feeling however. The Arizona resorts- are firm about keeping any trace of gloom out of their haunts of joy so you will find no puny-looking guests who should be in hospital. Castle Hot Springs is much like the Conti nental spas in the way it combines gay, easy living and plenty of sports with the pleasant measures that effect- reduction, gain, or whatever physical improvement you seek. Thus we run the gamut from gaiety and pretty fancy doings at Phoenix's Westward Ho house or the Arizona Biltmore, to the less formal Castle Hot Springs, or the lovely San Marcos at Chandler and the serene Ingleside Inn not far from the capitol, ending at last in great peace on a mountain ranch. TI4E CHICAGOAN IF you want to get an inside knowl edge of thoroughbred horse rais ing, try the Circle Flying Ranch at Wickenburg, not far from Castle Hot Springs. They take about twenty guests at a time, only during the winter and spring, and make you splendidly comfortable. Another highly recom mended winter ranch here is the Monte Vista. The Kay-El-Bar is a third honest-to-goodness place for those who love riding, hunting and the cowboy's life with modern improve ments. The open season is on now for nearly all hunting and fishing, closing earlier for some game and not for several months on others. Softy that I am, duck-shooting and the stalking of deer seem pleasanter to me when hands and feet don't turn to ice dur ing the process. Of course, even northern Arizona is mild to one who has just emerged from the blasts along the Boulevard here. Staying at the El Tovar is a restful experience when trainload after trainload of summer excursionists does not come bursting in to grab a swift look at the Canyon and be off again. Fat, knickered hikers do disturb the brooding immensity of the abyss and in the fall there aren't hundreds of them poking around among the agate, chalcedony and jasper of the Petrified Forest. Fred Harvey watches over us lov ingly from Sante Fe dining car to hotels all along the route in New Mexico or Arizona, on the fine motor cruises and, I suppose, on the T. A. T. planes that cover this stretch. Which means expert service, noble food and fine accommodations. Another com fortable way to do the whole south west is by the Raymond and Whit- comb land cruise which sets out from New York on their special cars, Chi- cagoans leaving here on the Panama Limited to join the cruise train at Pass Christian. This year Raymond and Whitcomb include not only Arizona and New Mexico, Texas and Cali fornia, but take a jaunt into Mexico. Here the special train idea proves especially good as it is much pleasanter to retire in the drawing room of one's own car than in the dank bedroom of a Mexican lodging house. The cars are switched off at each stopping place, so that travelers may eat and sleep in their accustomed comfort. But these trips and the Harvey car cruises in New Mexico deserve more than a few sk;mpy words, so more Oifak^lorl^ CLOTHES The gentleman whose taste in dress inclines towards that refinement which characterises his mode of liv ing, will find particular satisfaction in these garments. FOUR CONVENIENT STORES IN CHICAGO EXCLUSIVE REPRESENTATIVES for DOBBS HATS in CHICAGO 44 THE CHICAGOAN This is an advertisement for the best book ever written about the youngest great city of the world, —CHICAGO: THE HISTORY OF ITS REPUTATION, by those two eminent Chicagoans, Henry Justin Smith and Lloyd Lewis. We feel certain that you will agree with Harry Hansen, Howard Vincent O'Brien, Fanny Butcher and the Chicagoan that the authors have done magnificent justice to the most amazing cen tury in the history of any city the world-over. $3.75 at any book store. Published by Harcourt, Brace and Company. Jipiop »AT. «ND. ¦TOME MAWH CLIPS on book cover or wher ever a clip will go. Also stands alone. Has a hun dred uses. Shade is instantly ad justable to any angle. Complete with Mazda bulb, General Electric socket, 8 ft. silk cord and plug. Dozen bright colors. Ay ^ ~ ~ At d e p ar tment q) / ?Z'J stores, gift, book and specialty shops MELODELITE CORP. 130 West 42nd St. New York BOOK/ H emmmgway of Oak Park By SUSAN WILBUR ERNEST HEMENWAY is a husky person who has taken part in battles, has fought bulls, and who knows how to box. And yet one critic has been brave enough to describe his whole work as that of a (hard-boiled) sentimentalist. Though in point of fact if sentiment were not, as it is nowadays, strictly a term of reproach, one could perhaps not do better than describe "A Farewell to Arms" as a study (in hard-boiled terms) of a very real sentiment — that of romantic love. When the story opens Lieutenant Henry, a young American who has joined the medical service of the Italian army is with his mess facing those mountains over which the Aus- trians may attack. And his impious, witty, pessimistic friend, the surgeon Rinaldo, introduces him to the English volunteer nurse, Catherine Barkley. Henry, having nothing else to do at the moment, kisses her and gets slapped — but the slap is followed by an apology and Miss Barkley tells him that she likes him. Her lover has been killed in France, and it seems to Henry that he has been elected as a sort I of anodyne. Nonetheless as he is quite sure that he is not in love with Catherine he is willing to play the game. And then he is wounded, and sent to Milan, and Catherine has herself transferred there. Then, suddenly, they find that they are deeply, dread fully in love. They make the most of their opportunities. HENRY is sent to the front again and we get a masterly descrip tion of the Caparetto retreat. In the complete disintegration of the Italian forces, Henry narrowly escapes court- martial — the theory being that all un attached officers have been guilty of sacrilege in letting the enemy invade the "sacred soil of Italy." But he does escape, gets back to Milan, and hides with Catherine in an hotel. Thence, helped by a friendly bar-man — -and Henry is very good at keeping bar men in employment — he and Cathe rine escape to Switzerland. But facing a world in ruins and chaos, he has become enough of a defeatist subconsciously to expect what hap pens: the escape from Italy is pos sible; the escape from fate is not. In Switzerland there is a term of happi ness while Catherine waits for the birth of her child, and then fate closes the tragic idyll. And the tragic beauty of the book is made real, the characters in it are saved from that remoteness which clouds the usual tragic hero, because the terms in which the story is told are not those of conventional tragedy but of humanity. All too human, in deed, the comfortable reader will ex claim. For nurses and soldiers, in active service, do not use the language of the drawing room. And just as there is more pathos in a wound tied up with a rag than in the same wound competently bandaged, so here the pathos is intensified for those readers who are able to translate into terms of love the new disillusioned, now bawdy, language in which the story is developed. But bawdy or masculinely rough as the language may be, unladylike and frank as Catherine's attitudes may seem, these mess-table and hospital slangs have been made to convey, directly and beautifully, an experience that is simple, genuine and tragically complete. Even those people who objected to The Sun Also Rises be cause, as they said, its characters were "not worth while" will have to admit that in A Farewell to Arms Hemnnway has been not only truthful but significant. UP to Now is an autobiography which sounds, somehow, as though it had been written by the author. Not that you can quite hear the perfectly beautiful New York accent which, plus the word raddio, is said to have lost Al Smith the election. But almost. He is telling it to you. Hardly a sentence that an orator couldn't say comfortably on one breath, or that a listener couldn't com fortably remember the beginning of when he got to the end. The book is also very politicianly in other ways. Ask a few people why they think Mr. Smith has been so sparing of the de tails in his political career, when he has been so lavish about his early days of living under Brooklyn Bridge and swimming in the East River and swing- TMECWICAGOAN 45 ing off yard arms and going to picnics and chowders, and you will get a lot of different answers. One person will say that, well, maybe he wrote too much about Albany and it had had to be edited out. Another that, well, how could he be expected to remember all about what happened in the legis lature. And then again a few will say that, as his title half hints, he may have an idea that the sequel to fifteen million votes, even if that number is not sufficient to elect, is not neces sarily a permanent retirement from public life. Put motives aside, how ever, and what you actually have in Up to Now is a slice of East Side New York in the '70's and '80's, a perfectly whopping success story, and in addi tion what you might call a practical exposition of the internal workings of state government. And of course the last chapter tells what a presidential campaign feels like. To Al Smith it felt this way: "In its broad aspect the campaign appeared to me to be one of Smith or anti-Smith. Very little was said about Mr. Hoover." WHEN Samuel Butler, in Erewhon, pictured the ma chines as conquering their human inventors, so that the Erewhonians had to rebel against them and smash them up, his satire was — well, just satire. But Edward J. O'Brien, overworked editor of the Best Stories of Such and Such a Year, seems to have an idea that Butler's prophecy is actually coming true — the first half of it, that is, the domination of man by the machine. In his new book The Dance of the Machine, Mr. O'Brien analyses machines and machine production and gives us thirty characteristics of the machines which are anti-human — its mass production of a standardized article in place of things made by artistic craft; its multiplication of similar machines to keep the market supplied as against the human practice of birth-control; its insistence on quan titative stands as against qualitative; its suppression of initiative — since any change in manufacture would throw the whole interlocking works out of gear, and so on. And then he shows how machine psychology has so invaded what used to be pure human concerns that we speak of the political "machine" and in our modern armies use a system as a substitute for personal bravery. anfc Jfeatfjer If you have traversed the country lanes of England — and if you haven't you should — you must remember the Coc\ and Feather; that tiny inn at Sudbury in Suffol\. Remember the little low-ceilinged tap-room with the curved old oa\en bar and the three brown cas\s frowning down from their vantage points in the wall? Did you ever stride across the flagstone floor to the rough- hewn table under that high leaded window toward the river; clump down on the bench and wish you could bring the whole place home with you? You can. We can re-create the whole setting in your own home — a library from England — a drawing-room after the manner of the Louis's — a Tudor staircase. Call at Our Studio. KELLY INTERIOR CRAFTS COMPANY 905-11 North Wells Street CHICAGO For the Vivid Season "The Chicagoan," 407 So. Dearborn St., Chicago, Illinois. Send "The Chicagoan" one year, $3 — two years, #5. (I have checked my choice, as you will notice.) Name Address.. 46 TI4E CHICAGOAN Jame* L. Cooke David A. Badenoeh James L. Cooke & Co STOCKS AND BONDS GRAIN MEMBERS NEW YORK STOCK EXCHANGE CHICAGO STOCK EXCHANGE CHICAGO BOARD OF TRADE ASSOCIATE MEMBERS NEW YORK CURB EXCHANGE DIRECT WIRE CONNECTIONS 231 S. La Salle St. Chicago CENtral 8200 EVANSTON PHONE University 1580 More than ever setting new high standards for Chicago night club entertainment. Phone DEArborn 4388 LUNCHEON DINNER SUPPER DANCING EVERY EVENING PETRUSHKA CLUB MARKS BROS. GRANADA Sheridan and Devon MARBRO Madison — 4100 West Chicago's Largest and Finest Theatres, in a Class by Themselves. The Great Stage Stars in Superb Productions and the Outstanding Talking Pictures on the Most Perfect Synchro nizing Equipment in the World! Civic Follies A Play [begin on page 11] probably a reading play. It doesn't stage well. Donaghey : The author depends on the mob to get his emotional stimulus in kind. Stevens : It didn't get over with me at all. Silly. Collins : Propaganda ridden, if you ask me. Donaghey: On the English stage— Stevens: No, No, Fred. That act was American all right. Nothing Eng lish about it. But the crowd seemed to like it. Donaghey: Oh, the crowd— Collins: Gullible. Stevens: Vulgar. Donaghey: Let's go. Curtain time. (The three critics scramble to their seats.) ACT II (The scene is a private room in the Sherman Hotel. An immense four pos ter displaying the arms of the city of Chicago bears Mr. Mayor on its bosom. The nobles and people of the Town are assembled around the bed. But never mind the people. Sam Ettelson as Pierrot strums a guitar and sings the last bar of, "Big Bill the Builder as the — — Curtain rises) Mr. Mayor: Sing it again. Sing it again, Sam. (Sam plun\s the guitar hut from without drifts the sound of the cru saders hymn.) Mr. Mayor: What is that noise? Jack Coath : The common people, Mr. Mayor. They are unruly. They are crusading again. Mr. Mayor: Well, let them cru sade. Who's leading them this time? Jack Coath : A fellow on a swan, Mr. Mayor. Mr. Mayor: Oh, that's Frank Loesch. He's a confirmed crusader. I remember him. He's all right. He's a friend of the Eller boys, I believe. Morrie Eller and Manny Eller: (Arabian accent.) Honest, Mr. Mayor, we wish you'd quit makin1 them cracks. He's positively no friend of ours. Mr. Mayor: No friend of yours? Then, why don't you quit hanging around him? If Frank Loesch is no friend of yours, stay away from him. Cut him, you understand? Don't play with him. Then you won't be running to me with your troubles. Oh, Sena- tor, Sam— Sam Ettelson: If it please you, Mr. Mayor, my voice — I beg to be ex- cused. Let Treasurer Peterson sing his new song. It's a dandy. I'm sure — Mr. Mayor: Very well. Let Pete sing. He's City Treasurer. He ought to do well. Peterson: The name of my song is "Money." (He sings; Air, "Mammy" — and with the Jolson gestures.) Mo-ney! Mo-ney! The sun shines East, the sun shines West, But the sun shines through the payroll best. Mo-ney! Mun-huh-huh-ney! Shines because the payroll's mostly fun-ny. I'm a-bummin' — sorry that the pay's so late I'm a-bummin' — tryin' to raise the taxing rate. Mo-ney Mun-huh-huh-ney! I'd try most any ruse, for something to use For Mun-huh-huh-ney! Mr. Mayor: I'd kiss a few babies myself. But that's a mournful song. Let's not hear any more of it. Besides the treasurer of this Town has a lot more important things to do than sing funny songs. Ah — (A beautiful, but brazen young woman enters, dressed in the latest and most colorful brevities. She is Miss Spirit of the Press.) M. S. P.: I want to know about that valentine? Commissioner Russell : What valentine? M. S. P.: You know the valentine I mean. Some hoodlums sent me a val entine last Valentine's Day, and I want 'em jailed. Russell: I'd like to jail 'em, Sis ter. You know I would. But I can't seem to get my hands on 'em. Sorry. M. S. P.: I know you'd jail em. I'm not kicking about you. But the trouble is hoodlums are always annoy ing me. I'm trying to be a decent girl and they bother me. Mr. Mayor: Now, now, little girl. Can't we co-operate, maybe? M. S. P.: I'm not speaking to you and you know it. I don't want any thing to do with you. You're off my list. Mr. Mayor: All I want's a little attention. M. S. P. : You won't get it. Mr. Mayor: Why last year your papers were full of my name. TWECMICAGOAN 47 M. S. P.: That's all over. I'm through. Mr. Mayor: I'll sing you a song. M. S. P.: Make it in pantomime. I don't want to listen. (His Honor throws away a hammer and pic\s up a horn. His Honor sings: Air, "John Browns Body.") I've been growing conscious of a colder atmosphere I've been growing conscious of a colder (blows) I've been growing conscious of a (shivers, blows) In the papers every day. I've been growing (simulates consciousness, shivers, blows) I've been (stretches upward, blinks, shiv ers, blows) (Imitates reading newspaper.) M. S. P.: Baloney! (She whirls and goes out, left.) Mr. Mayor: I must have been cra2y to quarrel with that little girl. Ashton Stevens: (From the au dience.) Do you call that love interest? Interlocutor: You shut up. Just for that we'll make it a war play. (The lights change. A half dozen soldiers come on with fixed bayonets. Outside there is a rumble of artillery. A shell arrives. Wheeeeeee, Bang! His Honor drapes a gas mas\ over his chest and assumes a tin helmet. He throws away his horn and scrambles at the bed side for his hammer. All his retinue arm themselves.) Interlocutor: We are now in the trenches for the flag. We are on the firing step of civilization. Sergeant Mike Faherty: Before I jined up, Bedad, I used to build houses, yes and bridges, and many's the day I've spent puttering around the city parks planting tuberoses. That's all over. I'm afraid I'll never go back to my trade. Corp. Chris Paschen: I used to issue building permits back at home. That was when I felt most at home, I suppose. And now — Mr. Mayor: Have the listening posts reported? (Enter Private Oscar de Priest, mud spattered. He salutes.) De Priest : I have to report a heavy drum fire, Sir. There's nasty shelling out south. And they're simply tearing up the horizon to the east. His Honor: Go back to your post. De Priest: ("Salutes. J Very good, Sir. (Exit left.) Corp. Ellers (Salutes.) It ain't THE PALACE THEATRE — is the rendezvous of those who have outgrown melodrama, "who done it's," and the type of entertainment that ends with a clutching hand and a screech in the dark. It also appeals to those who have failed to enthuse at the genial "hail- fellow, well met" atmosphere of the popular priced talkie emporium. Its interest lies chiefly with those who appreciate the talent of fine vaudeville artists taken from the higher priced shows and who present the melodies, jokes and ideas that you will later en counter in the talkies. Visit the Palace This Week HOTEL SHORELAND Fifty-fifth Street at the Lake . . . Telephone Plaza lOOO so good in the west. In fact, it's some thing terrible! Mr. Mayor: Well, buck up. Buck up. Oh, we'll fight them yet. We'll advance to victory. We'll have to wire ourselves in. The northern sector won't hold, I'm afraid. (Enter King George in a scarlet Guard's tunic and bearskin sha\o.) King George: Cheerio. I'm the 48 TUE CHICAGOAN Social Spotlight for Weddings Dances, Dinners, Etc. Brilliant party rooms — each with its own unique decorative theme. The lavish Oriental Room — the luxurious Towne Club or moderne Silver Club on the Roof. Each a novel setting for a distinctive affair. A gracious serv ice and fine cuisine that you will find in but few places. And prices are most attractive. . . Reservations for Fall and Winter affairs are being made now! We urge your early con sideration. Menu prices and sugges tions submitted without obligation. r Hotel Knickerbocker * V CHICAGO V Walton Place at Michigan Blvd. (Opposite The Drake) J.I.McDONELLManager Phone Superior 4264 CAVANNA Drapery and Curtain Works, Inc. 653-6SS Diversey Parkway CURTAINS Lace Curtains, Draperies, Fine Linens, Slip Covers and Blankets CLEANED EXCLUSIVELY Mending and Alterations 20 Tear* of Good Work and Service Calls and Deliveries Everywhere BITTERSWEET 1387 I 1 Goal! MiE greatest polo events of the year — The Open Championship and Monty Waterbury tournaments — are described interestingly in word and pen pictures in the October issue of POLO Quigley Publishing Company 407 S. Dearborn Street Bertha Ott presents Vincenzi Celli Primo Ballerino of LaScala, Milan Supported by a Corps de Ballet and Soloists Orchestra Hall, Sunday, Oct. 27, 3 P. M. new officer. Mr. Mayor: George! Fancy see ing you here. King George: Came into the line this morning. Mr. Mayor: Haye a nice trip? King George: Nice enough. I say, the line's awfully hot, isn't it. No end of bombardment. Mr. Mayor: No end. Mr. Ettelson: (Staggering in.) Oh, it's ghastly. Oh, Oh. Those poor judges. Slaughtered to make an elec tion raid. They were ready for us. Thousands of them. Mr. Mayor: (Screams.) Must you sit on Lundin's bed? King George: I suspect I'd better be moving. Old Chap. Toodle-oo. I'm only here, you know, to lend the British touch. Mr. Mayor: I must stay with my men. I'll be out later. (King George leaves.) (The shelling is terrific. One by one the Mayor's retinue has left. Mr. Mayor is alone in the dugout which quivers to each new explosion.) A Runner: (Panting. ) Mr. Di- neen says can you come at once, Sir? (Mr. Mayor does not spea\.) Runner: Senator Dineen- says can you come at once. Sir? Mr. Mayor: I'll come. Tell him I'll come. (He hesitates, moves slow ly to his gas mas\ and hammer. Ta\es a drin\ from a canteen on the table. Fumbles up the dugout entrance, rear. And leaves the stage empty.) Wham! (Curtain.) Opera wraps and gowns created exclusively for the individual. Arcade Building 616 S. Michigan Ave. 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 Branches at all Leading Hotels and Clubs statement of the ownership, manage ment, circulation, etc., required by the act of congress of AUGUST 24, 1912 Of The Chicagoan, published bi-weekly at Chicago, Illinois, for October 1, 1929. State of Illinois }ss County of CookJ Before me, a Notary Public in and for the State and county aforesaid, personally appeared George Clifford, who, having been duly sworn according to law, deposes and says that he is the business manager of The Chicagoan and that the following is, to the best of his knowledge and belief, a true statement of the ownership, management (and if a daily paper, the circulation), etc., of the aforesaid publication for the date shown in the above caption, required by the Act of August 24, 1912, embodied in section 411, Postal Laws and Regulations, printed on the reverse of this form, to wit: 1 . That the names and addresses of the publisher, editor, managing editor, and business managers are: Publisher — Martin J. Quigley, 407 S. Dearborn St. Editor— Martin J. Quigley, 407 S. Dearborn St. Managing Editor — William R. Weaver, 407 S. Dearborn St. Business Manager — George Clifford, 407 S. Dear born St. 2. That the owner is: (If owned by a corpora tion, its name and address must be stated and also immediately thereunder the names and addresses of stockholders owning or holding one per cent or more of total amount of stock. If not owned by a cor poration, the names and addresses of the individual owners must be given. If owned by a firm, company, or other unincorporated concern, its name and address, as well as those of each individual member, must be given.) The Chicagoan Publishing Co., 407 S. Dearborn St. Martin J. Quigley, 407 S. Dearborn St. 3. That the known bondholders, mortgagees, and other security holders owning or holding 1 per cent or more of total amount of bonds, mortgages, or other securities are: (If there are none, so state.) None. 4. That the two paragraphs next above, giving the names of the owners, stockholders, and security hold ers, if any, contain not only the list of stockholders and security holders as they appear upon the books of the company, but also, in cases where the stock holder or security holder appears upon the books of the company as trustee or in any other fiduciary rela tion, the name of the person or corporation for whom such trustee is acting, is given; also that the said two paragraphs contain statements embracing affiant's full knowledge and belief as to the circumstances and con ditions under which stockholders and security holders who do not appear upon the books of the company as trustees, hold stock and securities in a capacity other than that of a bona fide owner; and this affiant has no reason to believe that any other person, asso ciation, or corporation has any interest direct or in direct in the said stock, bonds, or other securities than as so stated by him. 5. That the average number of copies of each issue of this publication sold or distributed, through the mails or otherwise, to paid subscribers during the six months preceding the date shown above is (This information is required from daily publications only.) Geo. Clifford, Business Manager. Sworn to and subscribed before me this 28th day of September, 1929. (Seal) James P. Prendergast. (My commission expires February 1933.) the Next CHICAQOAN- "James Keeley-Lord of the Fourth Estate' First of a Series of Intimate Articles by Romola Voynow on The Man Who Made "The World's Greatest Newsfafier" Great JAMES KEELEY, now in easeful eclipse, is the former London newsboy who gave America its Safe and Sane Fourth; the Chicago editor who scooped the world on the news of the Battle of Manilla— the Chicagoan whose factual achieve ments surpass the fictional exploits of a Dreise- rian character. THE STORY of James Keeley's two-score years as the principal player, hero and heavy, in the swift and mad melodrama of Chicago newspaper- dom is the first of a new and unparalleled sequence of documents revealing little known aspects of the great and near-great of Chicago. It begins in the next issue. Chee ri ng Unf orgetable, the thunder of sixty thousand voices . . . unforge and tremendous, the rolling era of cheers. And equally to be remembered, the thrill of pleasure from a cigarette zestful and tan& as autumn . . . mild and incom parably mellow . . • delica the ci«a" fragrant . . . cheering . • • lliC Camel* rette of people who know . . • ^ BLE21D IGARETJJ1& MB$TlC © 1929, K. J. Reynolds Tobac •o Co., Winst0"'53101"'