January 17 193 ? Tr m- • i I 1 1 if ISunwivi CFNTRAL AMfRlCA HAVANA Pan American also gives the fastest and most frequent ser vice, for passengers, air mail and express to Mexico,West Indies, Jamaica, Panama, Central and South America. All airliners are radio directed. All lines are operated under the counsel of Colonel Charles A. Lindbergh, Technical Adviser. Over 30,000 passengers were ctirrietl last year. Illinois Central R.R. Chicago and Eastern Illinois R.R. Pennsylvania R.R. Big Four PAN AMERICAN AIRWAYS, INcl 176 VOKTII MICHIGAN AVE., CHICAGO, ILL. THE WORLD'S GREATEST AIR TRANSPORTATION SYSTEM TUECUICAGOAN GOOD SPORTS GO SOU T H Smartly outfitted by our Sixth Floor MARSHALL FIELD & COMPANY 2 TUECUICAGOAN i ffl'B E*3HilO&L jgBj Kl^ll^jTIJB'^H 1 »JBJ m ^Tliiill :Wi jpfl innl B •!::: 5ttSM||i==5 n i PTlfp!q:"; THEATRE zM~uskaI +THREE LITTLE GIRLS— Great North ern, 26 W. Jackson. Central 8240. Good old Viennese operetta with Natalie Hall, Charles Hedley and many nice tunes. Curtain, 8:20 and 2:20. Evenings, $3.85; Saturday, $4.40. Wednesday mat., $2.50; Saturday, $3.00. +SIMPLE SIMON— Grand Opera House, 119 N. Clark. Central 8240. Ed Wynn being very funny and Harriet Hoctor dancing very nicely. Curtain, 8:20 and 2:20. Evenings, $3.85. Saturday mat., $2.50. RIPPLES— Illinois, 65 E. Jackson. Harri son 6510. Most of the Stone family and the old Stone gags and dancing. Curtain, 8:15 and 2:15. Evenings, $4.40. Mat inees, $3.00. Reviewed in this issue. Drama -KLYSISTRATA— Majestic, 22 W. Monroe. Central 8240. The Seldes adaptation of the frank, open Aristophanes comedy of sex life among the Greeks. Curtain, 8:30 and 2:30. Evenings, $3.85. Wednes day mat., $2.00; Saturday, $3.00. *THE OLD RASCAL— Garrick, 64 W. Randolph. Central 8240. William Hodge is the old rascal and not at all our William Hodge of other days, which is something. Curtain, 8:30 and 2:30. Evenings, $2.50. Matinees, $1.50. SUBWAY EXPRESS— Erlanger, 178 N. Clark. State 2460. Trick murder in a subway coach and a lot of fun watching the solving of it. Curtain, 8:30 and 2:30. Evenings, $3.00; Saturday, $3.85. Matinees, $1.50. -KBERKELEY SQUARE— S el wyn, 180 N. Dearborn. Central 3404. Leslie Howard and Margalo Gillmore in a very nice now- itVl928'now-it's-l784 romantic comedy. Curtain, 8:30 and 2:30. Evenings, $3.00. Thursday mat, $2.00; Saturday, $2.50. Reviewed in this issue. *JONESY— Playhouse, 416 S. Michigan. Harrison 2300. Thomas W. Ross, in a clean comedy of sorts and not in the title role. Curtain, 8:30 and 2:30. Evenings, $2.00; Saturday, $3.00. Matinees, $2.00. Reviewed in this issue. +AS YOU DESIRE ME— Harris, 170 N. Dearborn. Central 8240. Judith An derson in Pirandello's melodrama that is not so philosophical as other plays by that author. Curtain, 8:30 and 2:30. Evenings, $3.00. Matinees, $2.00. Re viewed in this issue. *BAD GIRL— Apollo, 74 W. Randolph. Central 8240. Claiborne Foster in the dramatization of Vina Delmar's novel. Curtain, 8:30 and 2:30. Evenings, $3.00. Matinees, $2.00. To be reviewed later. ^t-lic ruirArAAM" +LADIES OF THE JURY— Blackstone, 60 I MC UnlUAUvJAiN E. 7th St. Harrison 6609. Mrs. Fiske PRFSFNTS *n t'ie ^rst Pr°duction offered by the new management of the theater. Curtain, Winter, by Bohrod Cover Design 8:3° a"d^:30XTEvceninfs' $3°?' Mati' nees, $2.00. No Sunday performance. Current Entertainment Page 2 To be reviewed later. +THE SEA GULL— Goodman Memorial, Sport Dial 3 Lakefront at Monroe. Central 4030. The fourth production of the Goodman sea- For the Inner Man 4 son. Chekhov's work and, of course, Russian. Curtain, 8:30 and 2:30. Eve- Editorial 5 nings and Friday mat., $2.00. To be reviewed later. Why I Go to First Nights 7 ^SCARLET SISTER MARY— Selwyn, 180 N. Dearborn. Central 3404. Ethel First Night, by Sandor 8 Barrymore in blackface, and none too successful at it either. The play is the Distinguished Chicagoans, by J. H. dramatization of Julia Peterkin's novel. Clar^ 9 Curtain time and prices will be an nounced later. Opening Feb. 2. The Children's Chauvre Souris, by CHILDREN'S CHAUVRE SOURIS— Victor Haveman 10-11 Selwyn, 180 N. Dearborn. Central 3404. Second of the Junior League's plays for Easterners Are So Different, by children, through Jan. 17. Very gay and Philip 7^esbitt 12 Russian. Pinocchio opens Jan. 24. Ticket prices, $1.50, $1.00, $0.50. Sat- When "Whoopee" Was a War Cry, urdaY mornings at 10:30. bv Wallace Rice 13 MASTER SKYLARK — Goodman Memor ial, Lakefront at Monroe. Central 4030. Town Talk, by Richard Atwater 15 Second of the Goodman matinees for children. The story of a little boy with La Dietrich, by Sandor 16 a beautiful voice who sang before Queen Elizabeth. Ticket prices, $1.00, $0.75, Berkeley Square, by Nat Karson 17 $0.25. Saturdays at 2:30. Go Chicago, by Lucia Lewis 20 **, i^.p The Stage, by William C Boyden 21 CHICAGO SYMPHONY ORCHESTRA The Cinema, by William R. Weaver.... 24 - — Orchestra Hall, 216 S. Michigan. Harrison 0363. Regular subscription Music, by Robert Polla\ 26 program. Friday afternoons, Saturday evenings. Twelve Tuesday afternoon Shops About Town, by The Chicago' concerts, two series of Young People's enne 28 concerts and the Popular concerts on sec ond and fourth Thursday evenings. The The Dance, by Mar\ Turbyfill 30 fortieth season. Frederick Stock, conduc tor. Telephone for program information. Artists, by Philip Nesbitt 32 COKCERTS AND RECITALS — Prof . Maurice Martenot, music from the Ether, demonstration, Studebaker Theater, Jan. 11, 3:30. Kncisel Quartet, Chamber Mu sic Concert, The Playhouse, Jan. 11, 3:30. Miriam Klein, lyric soprano, recital, Civic Theater, Jan. 11, 3:00. Mary Wigwam, dancer, recital, Orchestra Hall, Jan. 16, 8:15. Denishawn Dancers and Ted Shawn, recital, Orchestra Hall, Jan. 18, 3:30. Kathryn Witwer, soprano, recital, Studebaker Theater, Jan. 18, 3:30. Arthur Shattuck, pianist, and Al fredo San Malo, violinist, joint recital, The Playhouse, Jan. 18, 8:30. Frances Hall and Rudolph Gruen, two piano re citals, Civic Theater, Jan. 18, 3:30. Min neapolis Symphony Orchestra, Henri [continued on page four] THE CHICAGOANS Theatre Ticket Service Stars opposite theatres listed above indicate plays to which tickets may be purchased in advance at box office prices by readers of The Chicagoan. A convenient form for use in fil ing application is provided on the inside rear cover. 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 Office: Simpson-Reilly, Union Oil Building, Los Angeles; Russ Building, San Francisco. Subscription $3.00 annually; single copy 15c. Vol. X. No. 9. — Jan 17 1931 Copyright 1930. Entered as second class matter March 25, 1927, at the Post Office at Chicago, 111., under the act of March 3, 1879. TWECUICAGOAN •SPQESBDIAU AUTOMOBILE SHOW National Automobile Show, Coliseum, January 24-31. BASEBALL Chicago Cubs — First squad, pitchers and catchers, leaves for Catalina Feb. 14. Second squad, inficldcrs and outfielders, leaves for Catalina Feb. 21. Chicago White Sox — First squad, pitchers and catchers, leaves for San An tonio Feb. 21. Second squad, inficldcrs and outfielders, assembles at San Antonio Mar. 1. BASKETBALL Chicago — Bartlctt Gymnasium- against Minnesota, Jan. 17; Michigan, Jan. 24; Northwestern, Feb. 14; Indiana, Feb. 28; Illinois, March 2: Ohio, March 7. Northwestern — Patten Gymnasium — against Ohio State, Jan. 24; Chicago, Feb. 7; Minnesota, Feb. 9; Illinois, Feb. 16; Iowa, March 2. FENCING Chicago, Wisconsin and Michigan, triangular meet, at Bartlett Gymnasium, February 28. GOLF Mid-January Tournament at Pinehurst, January 12-16. Florida East Coast Men's Championship at St. Augustine, January 20-24. Sweepstakes at Pebble Beach, California, January 25. GYMNASTIC Chicago, Wisconsin and Michigan, triangular meet, at Bartlett Gymnasium, February 27. HOCKEY Blackhawks Chicago Stadium against New York Rangers, Jan. 18; Philadel phia, Jan. 22; Montreal. Jan. 25; Canadians, Feb. 1; Philadelphia, Feb. 5; New York Rangers, Feb. 15; Detroit, Feb. 19; Ottawa, March 1: New York Americans, March 5; Boston, March 12; Toronto, March 15. HORSE RACING Racing Association. Miami, Florida, through March 7. Havana-American Jockey Club, Havana, Cuba, through March 51. MOTOR BOAT SHOW Us 4 TME CHICAGOAN [listings begin on page two} Verbrugghen, conductor, concert, Orches tra Hall, Jan. 20, 8:15. John McCor- mack, tenor, recital, Civic Opera House, Jan. 25, 8:15. Budapest Quartet, Cham ber Music concert, Studebaker Theater, Jan. 25, 3:30. Winifred Macbride, pia nist, recital, The Playhouse, Jan. 25, 3:30. Florence Chaiser, soprano, reci tal, Civic Theater, Jan. 25, 3:00. Paul Robeson, baritone, recital, Orchestra Hall, Jan. 30, 8:15. BEHEFIT CONCERT— C i v i c Opera House.. For the Olivet Institute Settle- ; ment House. The artist is Beniamino '- Gigle, Metropolitan tenor. Benefit chair- ; men, Mr. Evan Evans and Mr. Albert S. Gardner. Co-Chairmen, Mrs. Albert S. Gardner and Mrs. Charles Fargo. For ticket reservations telephone Wabash 2284. To be given on February 1 at 3:30. LECTURES INDIAN TRADING POST— 619 N. Michigan. Whitehall 7532. Lectures de voted to the life and culture of the American Indian. Mound Builders of the Mississippi Valley, by Fay Cooper Cole, Jan. 20, 3:00. FULLERTOH HALL— The Art Institute, Michigan and Adams. The Develop ment of Austrian Art, by Marianne Willisch, Jan. 20, 2:30. Ang\or, by Lucille Douglass, Jan. 27, 2:30. TABLES Luncheon — Dinner — Late-r PICCADILLY— 410 S. Michigan. Harrison 1975. All you can desire in the way of fine cuisine and alert service. MAISONETTE RUSSE— 2800 Sheridan Road. Lakeview 10554. Russian Euro pean foods and a concert string trio dur ing dinner hours. GRATING'S— 410 N. Michigan. White hall 7600. At the bridge and catering to masculine as well as feminine tastes. ST. HUBERT'S OLD EHGLISH GRILL —316 Federal. Webster 0770. God save our gracious St. Hubert's! JACQUES— 540 Briar Place. Lakeview 1223. Superior French cooking and the proper service that you'd expect. MAILLARD'S— 308 S. Michigan. Harrison 1060. Especially as a luncheon choice. Well served and well attended. CIRO'S— 18 W. Walton. Delaware 2592. Rather formal and catering decidedly to the epicure. TIP TOP INN— 206 S. Michigan. Wabash 1088. Lofty, in altitude and atmosphere with notable cuisine and service. HENRICTS— 71 W. Randolph. Dearborn 1800. Conveniently located and, of course you know, no orchestra. VASSAR HOUSE— Diana Court, 540 N. Michigan. Superior 6508. For luncheon, tea and dinner and even breakfast in a modern setting. Tea dancing afternoons. RED STAR INN— 1528 N. Clark. Dela ware 3942. These thirty-five years its noble Teutonic dishes have been making history. L'AIGLOH— 22 E. Ontario. Delaware 1909. Music and as fine French Creole catering as you can find in these parts. HARDIHG'S COLONIAL ROOM— 21 S. Wabash. State 0841. Popular, efficient and a goodly variety of foodstuffs. ROCOCO HOUSE— 161 E. Ohio. Dela ware 3688. Swedish menu and service with smorgasbord a specialty. KAU'S— 127 S. Wells. Dearborn 4028. An extensive German menu decidedly worth your inspection. RICKETT'S— 2727 N. Clark. Diversey 8922. A late steak and sandwich estab lishment popular during the small hours. CASA DE ALEX— 58 E. Delaware. Su perior 9697. Atmosphere, cuisine and service are Spanish and therefore a bit different. HUTLER'S— 20 S. Michigan, 310 N. Michigan, Palmolive Bldg. Convenient places to slip in unobtrusively for a quick lunch. JULIEN'S— 1009 Rush. Delaware 4341. A full, broad board and you had better telephone for reservations. EITEL'S — Northwestern Station. A bless ing in a neighborhood where good restau rants are scarce. NINE HUNDRED— 900 N. Michigan. Delaware 1761. There's the atmosphere and another reason is the cuisine. zJ&orning — Noon — Nigh t BLACKSTOHE HOTEL— 656 S. Michi gan. Harrison 4300. Food and service are a tradition here. Margraff directs the Blackstone String Quintette and Otto Staack presides. STEVENS HOTEL— 730 S. Michigan. Wabash 4400. A tremendous establish ment and lively. Cope Harvey and his orchestra play in the main dining room. Dinners, $2.00 and $3.00; no cover charge. In the Colchester Grill, dinner, $1.50 and a trio plays. CHICAGO BEACH HOTEL— 1660 Hyde Park Blvd. Hyde Park 4000. Fine menu and service and handy for the southsider who dines out. Dinners, $2.00 and $1.50. Gifford is maitre d'hotel. HOTEL SHERMAN— Clark at Randolph. Franklin 2100. Ben Bernie and his or chestra play at the College Inn. Thurs day is Theatrical Night. Maurie Sherman plays for tea dancers and Gene Fosdick is at the Bal Tabarin Saturday evenings. HOTEL LA SALLE— La Salle at Madison. Franklin 0700. The ever popular Husk O'Hare and his band in the Blue Foun tain Room which is filled with a lively, young crowd. Dinner, $1.50. Supper, $1.00. No cover charge. KNICKERBOCKER HOTEL— 161 E. Walton Place. Superior 4264. The Oriental Room, the Town Club and the Silver Room are particularly suited for private parties. In the main dining room, dinner, $1.25. In the Coffee Shop, $1.00. CONGRESS HOTEL— Michigan at Con gress. Harrison 3800. Johnny Hamp and his band are playing in the Balloon room again. Service a la carte; no cover charge. Telephone Ray Barrete for res ervations. PALMER HOUSE— State at Monroe. Randolph 7500. The Palmer House or chestra in the Empire Room; dinner, $2.50. Mutschler is maitre. Victorian Room, dinner, $2.00. Gartmann in charge. Chicago Room, dinner, $1.50. Horrmann presides. EDGEWATER BEACH HOTEL— 5349 Sheridan Road. Longbeach 6000. Phil Spitalny and his orchestra play in the Marine Dining Room. Cover charge during the week, $1.00; Saturday, formal, $2.00. Dinners, $2.00 and $2.50. DRAKE HOTEL— Lake Shore Drive at Michigan. Superior 2200. Clyde McCoy and his orchestra turn out a lot of good music. A la carte service. Weekly cover charge, $1.25; Saturday, $2.50. In the Italian Room, table d'hote dinner, $2.00 SENECA HOTEL— 200 E. Chestnut. Supe rior 2380. Unrivalled service and inter esting a la carte menu in the smart Cafe, a delight to the most fastidious diner. Tabic d'hote dinner, $1.50. BELMONT HOTEL— 3 1 56 Sheridan Road. Bittersweet 2100. Appetizing menu and superb service for the mid-northside diner. No dancing. Dinner, $2.00. SHORELAND HOTEL- -5454 South Shore Drive. Plaza 1000. The customary dis tinctive Shoreland menu and service for the diner out south. Musical accompani ment. Dinner, $2.00. BREVOORT HOTEL— 120 W. Madison. Franklin 2363. Where traditions of American cooking are preserved. Sand- rock is maitre. LAKE SHORE DRIVE HOTEL— 181 Lake shore Drive. Superior 8500. A thor oughly knowing place with admirable ser vice and cuisine. Dinner, $2.50 and no dancing. Langsdor is maitre. BISMARCK HOTEL— 171 W. Randolph. Central 0123. Memorable German dishes and the service is a duty. Grubel is headwaiter. Dusk Till Dawn PLANET MARS— 188 W. Randolph. State 7778. The Town's newest night haven. Austin Mack and his orchestra and Gigi Rene and her revue. Fred Emde is in charge. COLOSIMO'S -2126 S. Wabash. Calu met 1127. Keith Chambers and his or chestra and a revue of a different sort. A la carte service with fifty cents cover charge. Before seven, dinner, $1.50; no cover charge. MACK'S CLUB -12 E. Pearson. White hall 6667. Jules Novit and his orches tra, several wellknown entertainers and a good revue. Cover charge, $1.00. TERRACE GARDENS— Morrison Hotel 79 W. Madison. Franklin 8600. Lix Riley and his band and the famous Mor rison menu. No cover charge. Dinners $2.00 and $1.50. Shaefcr directs. BLACKHAWK— 139 N. Wabash. Dear born 6262. Coon-Sanders, old favorites here, are back with their orchestra. Din ner, $2.00. CASA GRANADA 6800 Cottage Grove. Dorchester 0074. Tom Gcrun and* his orchestra and several additional en tertainers arc now sojourning here. Weekly cover charge, $1.00; Saturday" $1.50. FROLICS— 18 E. 22nd St. Victory 7011. Charles Kalcy and his Hollywood orches tra and a better than ordinary floor show. Cover charge during the week $1.00; Saturday, $1.50. CLUB ALABAM— 747 Rush. Delaware 3260. Willie Newberger and his band. Evelyn Nesbit and a good company of entertainers, and Chinese and Southern cooking. Cover charge, $1.50. Gene Harris greets. CHICAGOAN Pledge NEW YEAR'S DAY was no unbroken round of pleasure for the President. If published statistics are correct — we always wonder who compiles them — no less than 6,429 handshakes were endured in something like six hours. If our arithmetic is correct — we're never sure about that either — this reduces to about 3.5 seconds per shake and that's fast time for an expert, which Mr. Hoover isn't. We suspect it wasn't a very enjoyable day for the Chief Executive. And we gather, from the state ment that visitors were admitted to the East Room with permission to stay as long as they wished, that a goodly majority of his visitors weren't in especially sociable mood either. For that matter, who was? When and if we have the presidency thrust upon us we'll do our re ceiving the night before. Touchback WE doubt that we love football less because we re vere education more. We expose ourself as hazardously and shout as loudly as the veriest sophomore every November. But along in January we begin to tire of the subject, particularly of such abstract debates as the one arguing the relative merits of Alabama and Notre Dame, and football recedes into the general scheme of college interests good, bad and indifferent. We're sur prised to note that this year it has receded further than usual, in fact dangerously near to the second classifica tion ... if it has not receded to a level with fraternity house gin, still it appears just now to be a substantially lesser virtue than, say, basketball. This comparison, stumbled upon quite unexpectedly, is a bit shocking. It opens up several vistas of speculation and, after recessing a few minutes to explore them, we are a little startled to discover ourself in the act of charg ing Mr. Knute Rockne with responsibility for the whole thing. No doubt we'll be arrested for it, but we're im pelled to declare — yes, we do declare it — that Mr. Rockne builds better football teams than anyone else builds colleges and therein lies complete explanation of the dreaded over-emphasis and what goes with it. As we analyse it, sparing you the several yards of de duction we've just gained through left tackle and by a couple of passes, football is what it has become because football coaches have been permitted to become what they are. Coaches have been permitted to become what they are — oracles, spokesmen, heroes, financiers, diplomats, and occasionally politicians; — because Rockne is what Rockne is and because every other coach in America thinks he's a Rockne or can be. We're inclined to believe that, so long as a Rockne can push a Scott or a Hutchins off of the front page, Ameri can boys are going to regard college as a place to go to learn football and play school. We close the subject for this season with our usual inspired suggestion: That Mr. Rockne collect his own and other sterling athletes in a professional football league over which he shall reign as a Landis, only better, and restore to education in America its amateur standing. Political Editorial HIS Honor the Mayor has sued Colonel Robert Isham Randolph for a million dollars. Or said he was going to. Or something. At any rate, he got a headline to that effect and in these matters the headline is supposed to be considerably more than half the battle. But Colonel Randolph, replying that he hadn't guessed he was expected to provide the prosperity million but would be flattered to oblige if necessary, got the popular decision. The Mayor's gesture grades as old stuff, a device Barnum discarded when a boy, but the Colonel's reply is of the new order, a crisp diploma from the brisk school of repartee in public life. We like the Colonel better for it. Unfortunately, Colonel Randolph does not live in Chicago and cannot be its World's Fair Mayor. The World's Fair Mayor ought to know all the answers, be able to wisecrack to and with visiting notables, amuse mixed audiences and flash witty responses to inquiring reporters in all of the major foreign and domestic tongues. He ought, too, to look, dress and act the part of an up-to- date, metropolitan executive, a man about town and an intellectual. Our solemn advice to the electorate as the primaries draw near is to listen to all of the candidates by radio and vote for that one who gives you the most laughs — we mean intentionally. 1931 HAVING reviewed 1930 at length and with un accustomed thoroughness in the preceding issue of The Chicagoan, we confess an understandable tempta tion to preview 1931 in this one. But we're not going to. Instead, we're going to place ourself on record as unalterably opposed to the preview as an institution. We feel that the previewing business, which is what we set out to talk about, has gone to the dogs. There was a time, along about Ben Franklin's day, when the business of looking ahead, foreseeing results and arrang ing for something to be done about them was left, by tacit consent of the populace, in the hands of men assumed qualified by experience and education to know something about it. Nowadays it's anybody's job. An elevator starter starts off the morning by announcing the day's winner at Agua Caliente. A waiter brightens the lunch hour with lively forecast of the market closings. A taxi driver prefaces his cheery goodnight with assurances that Winter is merely marshalling its forces to swoop down in a real 1917 blizzard. We haven't heard anybody say "I don't know" since 1900. If only for variety, then, although really because we think it's a swell idea, we're going to state bluntly that we don't know what's going to happen in 1931. And neither, we think, does the elevator starter, the waiter or the taxi driver. 6 THE CHICAGOAN •.,'"' Henry Waxman E-WITH PLAID ACCESSORIES I here's no end to the chic of plaids this season ... the cool, clean white of a handkerchief linen dress ... a small plaid scarf . . . and Grazia, the famous little sandal, in pastel-plaid linen ... A clever bit of brilliance in southern chic . . . 15.50. The matching bag ...... 8.50 SAKS- FIFTH AVENUE CHICAGO PALM BEACH NEW YORK MIAMI BEACH TWCCWICAGOAN 7 WHY I GO TO FIRST NIGHTS A Symposium Inquiring Into a Curious Theatrical Phenomenon NOTE: What subconscious urge drives incorrigible first-nighters out into the cold, rainy nights to sit in draughty theatres and listen to in genues sob, "I was young and knew nothing of the world—"? Why do judges, society matrons, loop-hounds, big shots of business prefer to see for themselves before Messrs. Stevens, Col lins, Bulliet, McQuigg, Lewis, Borden and (Miss) Cassidy have laid out the welcome-mat or hung out the small- pox sign? The Chicagoan continues its research into the psychology of the theatre by asking some of the more prominent patrons of Couthoui and Voiler why they are what they are. By EWMEST BYFIELD Epicurean I can remember — I have a re tentive memory, an editor re cently assured me — when I used to scream at Florence Couthoui "The second row! Why that's out of earshot!" My only regret in those days was that I wasn't bald headed. Openings were a ritual. The only ritual at which I was orthodox. But now I am an ex-first- nighter — a G. A. R. of loop hounds. The list of first-night ers nowadays h no longer a lisl of loop hounds, it is a roster of Who's Hoods. I go occa sionally out of a sansculotte curiosity, to see which gangster is missing, and to speculate idly whether his defection might have been caused by a mas3age of machine gun slugs the night before. I recall one night reading in the Bulldog editions during the intermission that the po lice were combing the loop for a certain wellknown character, who was sitting only three seats away from me. As I looked him over I thought that combing was the perfect word. So I am amongst the elect no longer. The chiselers keep me away. I get bruised by the hardware that they carry, and the opulence of their ladies abashes me. It is an aristoc racy in which I feel that I am an intruder. But perhaps it is only my modesty. By LILLIAN R. GOODMAN Composer From personal experiences on both sides of the footlights, I welcome the "first night." The "on your toes" atmosphere and concentration required to "put it over" to a new critical audience gives a color, verve and a latent excitement to the entire performance which can not be equalled on any other night. By PHILIP R. DAVIS Attorney The rise of the curtain on the first night always promises a new star, a memorable per formance, a scriptless situation saved by quiek thought and a rare sense of excitement that the actors transfer to the audi ence. On other night* I miss all this, entracte contacts and some critics. By ARTHUR BISSELL Art Patron Because actors and audiences react to each other on a first night differently than at any other performance. The at mosphere is charged with a current of expectancy and un certainty — which provides a unique thrill. Later perform ances may show greater tech nical proficiency, but in them the actor reverts to his routine interpretation and a certain subtle spark, hard to define, is absent. By MKS.WALLEK BORDEN Social Leader My only reason for being a "first-nighter" (if I am one) is that I happen to be invited on that night! By RICHARD GREINER Manufacturer Because many of my friends are also first nighters and I like to see and talk with them. Also, the artists generally give a better performance the open ing night. But in my younger days when I first contracted the habit it was to see what girls were in the show and trip over the other loophounds back stage. By FKANK BERING Inn Keeper For some years now 1 have been feverishly going to first nights in the hope that I may eventually come across a play that does not have the line, "Won't you sit down?" When I find it, you will no longer see me at the openings — an ambition of thirty years' stand ing will have been achieved. If I have any other reason for going to first nights it is to form an opinion of my own about the plays and players so that I may join the throng that quarrels with the judg ment of the drama critics the next day. By PEGGY HAMBLETON Home Girl Though I seldom have a chance to go to first nights, I should always like to, as there 8 TI4ECMICAG0AN is a certain electric current be tween actors and audience that gets the play over with a zest. Also, I like to get my own opinion before it is spoiled for me by the critics. By KID SHERMAN Confidential Agent Hurt and agony of Perform ers. Giving their utmost. Bru tal Disappointment of Flops. Stirring Ecstacy of Succes3. At Openings. Actors, Managers, on their toes. Atmosphere, Colorful. Disagreement of Critical Doctors. First Nights have Become Chronic with me. I am hopelessly In curable. By MARION S. MITCHELL Poet I shall cease being a first- nighter if something doesn't happen soon. Something that isn't supposed to happen. Why can't an actor get the giggles, or fall flat? Why, when a play is rotten, can't he say, "this play is rotten." After all, actors have sense. At least some of them have. At least one or two. Well, why can't one or two hold hands, and walk to the footlights, and say, "I don't like this play. I just don't like it at all." Every time I go to a first-night I keep hoping some drama will pop up inside the regular drama. I keep hoping and hoping. By e. f. Mcdonald, jr. Yachtsman First, I usually have seen every other show in town. Sec ond, between the acts of the first night performances I take great pleasure in bearing the comments of some of the audience before they have been told by the critics what their opinion should be. By WILLIAM WELCH Artist I feel quite flattered at being asked why I enjoy going to first night9; and the fact that I feel flattered might indicate an important element in the first nighter's psychology. I refer to the vicious and subtle ogre of dilletantism which fastens itself so quickly upon all but the sturdy souls who "know nothing about art but they know what they like." There are of course one or two quite obvious and quite sound reasons for attending a first performance. Because they are quite obvious and sound I refrain from stressing them. But I think the warm pleasure of being one of the cognoscenti, or imagining one self to be, accounts for the habitual first nighter. By JOSEPH SABATH jurist There is a certain group of citizens interested in the thea tre who attend first night per formances and naturally there has developed a feeling of good fellowship and sociabil ity in those who have formed the habit of attending, and it is a looked-for pleasure to greet the familiar ones. Then too, I believe that the actors make a special effort on the first night to please, not only the audience but the critics as well, realizing that much of the success of the show de pends upon the impression made upon the critics. There is a feeling of antici pation during the weeks be fore the showT opens and a desire to determine whether or not the show fulfills the promises of the press agents. There is also the feature of censorship. I believe that the show on the first night is just as it was written and intended to be shown, but is often changed by the censors. To me the theatre is a source of diversion from the daily tragedies of life which I have to meet daily in my courtroom and I can enjoy complete relaxation and rec reation. I also feel that I de rive certain education from the artists' interpretation of different characters, which is of great assistance to me in disposing of my various case3. I hardly ever miss a show presented in Chicago and am always patiently and anxiously awaiting a first night. By ROBERT M. HUTCHINS Educator President Hutchins regrets that he will not have the time to write a fifty-word answer to the question, "Why I go to first nights?" as requested in your letter of December 19th. — Harriet E. Servis, Secretary to the President. TWE CHICAGOAN EDWIN BALMER: Well known novelist, editor, short story writer and former newspaper man. In 1927 he was appointed editor'in'chief of the Red Boo\ and he is now in New York in that chair. A story teller by instinct and a psychologist by edu- cation his novels such as The Breath of Scandle, Fidelia, That Royle Girl and his various collaborations have always been popular, especially in Chicago. THOMAS E. TALLMADGE: A man who leads a triple life; church deacon and householder in Evanston; Bohemian and etcher on Pearson Street; business man and church architect on LaSalle Street. He is a member of Rockefeller Committe to restore Williamsburg, Virginia; patron of Saugatauk School of Painting and designer of St. Luke's in Evanston, and other churches. Also author, lecturer, philosopher, epi curean, bachelor and beau. DISTINGUISHED CHICAGOANS A Sequence of Portraits By J. H. E. CLARK EDITH FOSTER FLINT: Who has been at the University of Chicago for thirty six years and a member of the faculty of that institution for thirty years. At another coeducational university her executive office would give her the title of Dean of Women, but at Chicago she is Chairman of the Women's University Council. And as a member of the department of English she teaches composition to the young men and women of her university. ARTHUR BISSELL: Born in Cihcago and refers to himself facetiously as one of the oldest white citizens; more or less promi' nently identified with musical and dramatic uplift movements. A director and mem ber of house committee of the Tavern Club; Secretary of the Cliff Dweller's Club; member of Arts and Casino Clubs, he is vitally interested in everything pertaining to music and drama. He is Vice-President of Lyon ii Healy, Inc., and former President of Bissell-Weisert Piano Company and has always been identified with music business. WALLACE RICE: Poet, pageant-writer, historian, literary and dramatic critic, editor and lecturer, orthoepist and gram marian, politician (precinct captain, Demo crat, Wet), herald and flag-designer (his the Chicago Municipal Flag and the Illinois Centennial Banner), his name is on the title- pages of a hundred books, with more to come. A resident here since 1861, a news paper man since 1890, he knows his Chi cago, and his Chicago knows him as a man of letters about town. TI4E CHICAGOAN THE CHILDREN'S CHAUVRE SOURIS The Junior League's tenth and most successful season of Satur day morning plays for children and charity presents Children's Chauvre Souris through January 17 at the Selwyn. Photographs are by Victor Haveman. Mrs. Donald LaChance Mrs. James Garard Emily Pope Mrs. Richard Gambriel Margaret Quan TME CHICAGOAN n Helen Pope Margaret Quan Jeanne Street Betty Warren Ruth Halloway Judith Walsh Katherine Dra\e Edith Fairbanks Barbara Bond Florence Sargent Frances Oliver 12 THE CHICAGOAN EASTERNERS ARE SO DIFFERENT By PHILIP NESBITT Rogers and Maude, for instance, observed by Mr. Nesbitt on the south corner of Harvard Square, Cam bridge, trying to decide that a cinema is just the thing for a brisk Sunday afternoon. Or Fanny and Joe, visibly shocked by a swearing taxi driver at Broad way and Forty-Second Street . . . an intersection in New York City. And Uncle Adam Fairweather (old school) who, with Aunt Hester, strives to uphold the severe facade of stolid old Philadelphia. Not to mention Stephanie and Maurice from' the Embassy (it doesn't matter which one) intent upon catch ing the eye of the Countess (ditto preceding parentheses) somewhere in Georgetown. Rogers and Maude Fanny and Joe Stephanie and Maurice Uncle Adam and Aunt Hester THE CHICAGOAN 13 WHEN "WHOOPEE" WAS A WAR CRY Moody Reflections on a Gaudy Era VICE as a monster of so frightful mien personified itself dimly in my little-boy life sixty-odd years ago in one "Mother Herrick," who seemed to have her lair in South Clark or South State Street. And that is all I know about her. She seems not to be men tioned in any of the histories of the city, and I haven't heard her name in scores of years. Possibly some worldly old fellow may enlighten me. My own first contact with the thing was in Nelly Costello's in 1875. I went in with older boys and came right out again, but I remember that the house was spacious and had a staircase run ning up from a wide reception room. This was one of the numerous places in Wells Street which led more re spectable neighbors to have the name of the street changed to Fifth Avenue in the fond old superstitious belief that changing the name changes the nature; the numerologists are the leading con temporary exponents of the rather sim ple notion. It isn't easy to learn from the writ ten Chicago histories anything about vice in the past, though it is getting easier. Another superstition seems to have been at work, running to the general effect that a thing ceased to exist if it wasn't mentioned, or at least existed only through the publicity accorded it. Except for a sporadic attack now and then, like Mayor John Wentworth's on the North Side Sands with combined police and fire departments, Chicago appears to have been an entirely moral city to its historians. This raid took place on April 20, 1857, in an isolated sand waste around Michigan Street, where an aggregation of shacks, none over two stories high, had formed it self into what was probably our first segregated district. Nine buildings were torn down and six burnt down, a mob ably assisting the forces of law and order. The scandal arose, as such By WALLACE RICE scandals still arise, from lack of police control; and when the authorities acted at last the remedy was rather worse than the disease. Frederick Francis Cook, who is the city's chief informant of its disreputable past in his Bygone Days in Chicago, tells the result: "And what happened afterward? Why this, that for years it made un tenable for decent folk all of the South Side east of Clark and South of Madi son Street; and it was left for the fire (of 1871) to make an end of this state of things. South Wells, from Madi son to Van Buren Street, was the cen ter of this aggregation of vileness; and so evil a name did this thoroughfare acquire from its belongings that later, to fit it for trade, it was on petition of fronting property owners fumigated into Fifth Avenue." Anyone who cares to read Cook's three chapters on The U?ideru>or!d, written from first hand knowledge gained as a newspaper reporter during the Civil War and running until after the Great Fire, will make up his mind that Chicago at this minute is holding true to type, the chief difference being that Prohibition has given vice millions instead of thousands to play with. CARTER HARRISON the younger closed the segregated districts in 1911, and history repeated itself. It followed the publication earlier in that year of the Chicago Vice Commission's amiable report, which added unintentionally to the gayety of the town by getting itself promptly denied the government mails. In 1918, seven years after, I was in the smoking-room of a Pullman on the way to Springfield in company with John Traeger, then sheriff of Cook County, Assemblyman E. P. Caviesel from the West Side, and Judge Harry Fisher, just finishing his spell in the Morals Court. He spoke of the suc cess he had had in wiping vice off the city map, stating that that there wasn't a place of resort left open in town. To this; Mr. Caviezel replied that he could take him to twenty in an after noon if he'd come over to his district, and Sheriff Traeger added that he needn't go so far, but to meet him at the county jail and bring a car and he'd see a hundred or so. Now one may read, eighteen years later, Harvey Warren Zor- baugh's The Gold Coast and the Slum: A Sociological Study of Chicago's T^ear T'iorth Side, which observes that "The efforts of com mittees for the suppression of vice, and of federal pro hibition agents, have altered the nature of vice rather than abolished it" so far as North Clark Street south of North Avenue is concerned; and adds "The chief result of campaigns againsx. vice has been to drive it from the lights of the street into back rooms, on into the anonym ity of the rooming-house. The street is not the show place to the curious man from the small town that it once was. But it remains the center of the worst police district in Chicago, and the haunt of a large element from the underworld." By 14 THE CHICAGOAN and by the moralist will discover anew what Brand Whitlock told the rep resentatives of the Federation of Churches in 1910 while he was Mayor of Toledo, that social distempers can't be cured by treating symptoms; the deep-seated economic causes wherein the infection lies have to be met and conquered first. And that, of course, was before Prohibition had united the underworld with high finance. Lloyd Lewis has several pages on vice in Chicago: The History of Its Reputation, but his knowledge is taken from older sources, necessarily, lacks chronological arrangement, and is much confused. Henry Justin Smith, in the latter part of the same book, brings the story down through the abolition of segregation by Harrison, and tells the story as a working news paper man familiar with the facts. Further, Graham Taylor of Chicago Commons, who took an active part in all this, has set down part of his ex periences in his newly published Pio neering on Social Frontiers. And, finally, as in Edna Ferber's Show Boat, the novelists and fiction writers are in troducing some of the more notorious characters of the old, bad days to the general reader — not that these days are so much better; they are not. Scandal, after all is said, is probably the most interesting thing about human nature. I HAT follows is the product of youthful memories, oft-told scandals old and new, conversations with many men who could recall frag ments of the past, several published books of comparatively recent date, but nothing of original research or reading of old newspapers such as must go to the making of reasonably authen tic history. So, here goes! One of Chicago's prominent citizens in the mid-Victorian times, when life and living lacked the candor of twen tieth-century post-bellum days but dif fered little or nothing in the actuali ties, had the efficacious custom when the need arose for further variety, of endowing the woman and seeing that her endowment was large enough to secure her immediate marriage. Good business man that he was, on the last of these occasions, perhaps bewildered by his love for a charming girl in every way worthy, he slipped a little, and from that slip arose the monumental palace of vice known in later years as the Everleigh Club, but founded and brought to its evil fame, though lack ing in some of the aspects of publicity at the end, by Lizzie Allen. Like so many of her kind she ap pears to have begun life as the simple little village maid, hailing from some where quite rural in the province of Ontario. Her simplicity and maiden hood failing together, she came to Chi cago, known quite as well before the Great Fire of 1871 as it is now as the headquarters of multifarious forms of vice metropolitan in scope and char acter. She fell into the hands of the prominent citizen spoken of, who maintained her, as was not unusual, in a place of public resort; there, at least, he knew where she was. And there she was when, slipping for once as he did, she read in the daily news papers the account of his betrothal to his new and charming young lady. The story was told me by three differ ent and well informed men when I was seeking information of a wholly different nature, and the ensuing con versation reported between them ran thus : "I see your engagement is an nounced in the papers," said Lizzie. "Yes?" said he. "What are you going to do for me?" said she. "You'll be taken care of," said he. In the circumstances, what else could he say? "I'll be taken care of, now," said she. She was. And, again, what else was there to do? Time lacked for a settlement of money with a view to having her married by anybody. THIS was about the time of the fire. With the money obtained, Lizzie Allen bought the land at what used to be No. 46 Congress Street, and is now No. 17, and thereon built her such a house for the transaction of her nefarious business as Chicago had not seen before. Other houses there were larger and more notorious, but none more successful. In it, within no great number of years, she made something more than a quarter million of dollars, and the time had come to enlarge her business, which meant moving into what was long known a& the heart of the redlight district. She bought outright the property at Nos. 2131 and 2133 South Dearborn Street, and theron built a commodious place of resort, furnishing it at a total cost of $125,000, it was said, and there is no reason to doubt it. Considering the nature of the house, it was done in excellent taste throughout. In the process of furnishing, one of the tradesmen interested in selling her equipment caught her eye, believed not to have been lighted by looking upon a man since her prominent citizen of the '70's had married. She was a mid dle-sized woman, rather stocky than stout, quiet and unassuming in appear ance, well mannered, with something of the bearing of an English upper- class servant, say a housekeeper in a county family. Her new man had come to Chicago from the country, bringing with him the unmarried mother of his two children. When the affair was fully ripe, she was to die in a mad-house. After securing her man — though the outcome shows that it was rather he that secured her -she began building the really beautiful house, since torn down, at what, is now the corner of Arlington Place and Lincoln Park West, which was long the subject of fevered inquiry in that most respect able of neighborh(K)ds. It was beauti fully furnished. The Brunswick &* Bailee Company finished the woodwork exquisitely. The inquiry stopped. She leased her house in Dearborn Street to the Everleigh Sisters, in the hope of living, as the saying of her kind is, private. And she died after leaving all she owned to her man. Later, another woman of considerable wealth made her will in favor of this man, and also died. Relatives of Lizzie Allen's sought a share in her property in the courts, and the case was protracted, but unsuccessful. I understood several years ago that the relatives had not given up hope. Eleven years ago when the Chicago Journal was preparing its seventy-fifth anniversary number, John C. Eastman asked me to visit the place Lizzie Allen had built and the Everleigh Sisters had brought to international notoriety. It was populated by poverty-stricken col ored people, newly from the South, a family in every room. The tiled vesti bule had been scuffed by heavy feet, the delicate frescoes on the walls were dulled by grime and smoke, the lux urious furnishings had given place to the mere expedients of the very poor, and to give the place its final aspect of squalor, the city water had been turned off throughout the bouse. There were more reasons for staying away from such a scene than ever could have been given for going there, even in its palmiest days. And, be lieve me, they were palmy. NOTE: The second article in this series will be pub'ished in an early issue. THE CHICAGOAN 15 TOWN TALK Mr. Cermak's Chances — Sandburg's Bon Mot *^ The Sword Shooter — A Flexible Brain — Gangster Wedding — Dainty Marie — Our Music Encyclopedia — Uncle Sam's Pillow Fighters ONLY a few pine needles here and there around the edge of the car pet recall the Last Days of Nineteen Thirty: that jolly old fraud, Monsieur S. Claus, is back in the box with his false beard and his number three voice for a merited rest. The hounds of win ter have eaten the reins of New Year's Water Wagon; the new fountain pen has at last got in the swing of dating its checks 1931. Here and there a gourmet is still sitting down worriedly in his favorite restaurant to order an unaccustomed banquet of one glass of orange juice and one portion of spinach; but generally, the holidays are over. Politics, in short, are again in order, and here and there an invitation to speak at this or that American Legion meeting has suddenly to be withdrawn as it transpires that this public charac ter, too, has entered his hat in the Mayoralty ring. Even the poets, with spring still too far away for fragrant inspiration, are watching politics with a vexed eye. "Is there a rhyme for Cermak?" asked a poet lately. The second poet thought for a moment, and replied. "Yermat?" Both then agreed that Mr. Thomp son would undoubtedly win. bolero EVER since a literary luncheon, nearly a decade ago, (when papa Schlogl had not yet kidnaped the Daily J\[ews group, and Henry Black- man Sell and Burton Rascoe fed their reviewers alternately at Field's grill and the La Salle,) we have kept our eye on Carl Sandburg. That gray viking, greeting this then verdant gossip for the first time, grasped our shy hand amiably and cried, "You have the best column in Chicago — typographically." And it's typographically that we now have something on columnist Carl. We quote from a recently printed page of the Sandburgian notebook. "She heard tell of Toscanini bring ing his New York Philharmonica or- By RICHARD ATWATER chestra to Paris. They played 'Bolero' for Ravel, its composer. 'You played Bolero too fast,' Ravel told Toscanini, who busted out, 1 shall never play it again.' Ravel came back. 'That just suits me.' " It will always be the Philharmonica orchestra to us, now. As for playing the Bolero too fast, though, there is ab ways B. L. T.'s comment on a similar criticism of a speeded piano number. "In disposing of Liszt's Rhapsodies," wrote Mr. Taylor, "it is all right to step on the accelerator, as the sooner they are finished the better." Shot with a Sword THEN there's the noted citizen who lately told his wife he was going duck-hunting. He returned from his two-day trip with a fine bag of a dozen ducks, laid his shotguns triumphantly on the grand piano and sat back luxuriously to await the banquet of his marksmanship. Presently the little lady returned from the kitchen with a look in her eyes. "What did you shoot these ducks with — a sword?" she inquired. "What do you mean, shoot with a sword?" countered the hunter in great perplexity. "Well, there wasn't a shot in any of them, and they all had their throats cut," explained the lady. The gentleman had bought his game without bothering to see how they had been prepared for market! Waggery Dept. WALKING through an I. C. train on one of those cold days when you notice the doors because the preceding passenger has just dutifully closed them in your face, we suddenly noticed an unfamiliar warning etched on the glass: "PLEASE LOSE THE DOG." It looked very official, and it wasn't until we'd walked on to the next door and saw the conventional motto about Closing the Door that we really knew what had happened. The perpetrator of this mild jest is still unknown, although it is whispered that both Mr. Riquarius and Mr. James Weber Linn use the I. C. regularly. The New Etiquette ONE of the things our Pasleys and Sullivans leave out of their Chi cago gang books is the savoir-faire with which the boys meet a real social em ergency. Weddings, for instance. We have a report from S. L. Huntley on weddings among the local Napoleons. The six bridesmaids are first given Turkish baths; then outfitted with new lingerie, dresses, et cetera, and equipped with floral bouquets in lieu of muffs. Gloves are avoided for fear of the bridesmaids' hands looking too large. The bridesmaids are then presented with costly jewels, on the theory that if they were given checks instead to buy the jewels with, they might get them at Woolworth's and keep the change. The best men, however, get one-grand checks and a set of dinner and tail-coat suits. War Game FOR the last year we've been going around saying that the thing to do is to invent a new game, and you don't need to care who's in the White House. Well sir, somebody's done it, and why we didn't do it will always be life's most baffling mystery (to us). At the risk of giving free publicity to what can hardly remain a secret much longer anyway, we'll just break down and tell you you might as well throw away that backgammon board. At once a more sophisticated form of checkers, a simplified chess and an in triguing war game, Camelot has a new kick in it. Mr. Parker's real idea, out side of the neat economy of a changed checkerboard, so you'll have to pay him royalties, is the new move called "can tering." This is almost more fun than 16 THE CHICAGOAN riding on a department store escalator with a mechanically minded child. We see only one possibility to keep cantering from displacing miniature golf, contract bridge, and Saturday night dancing. Syndicated lessons on the game in the country's press. These are probably inevitable, so take our ad vice and play it before it's popular. By that time we really should be ready with our own new game, a com bination of pingpong and animal crackers. Application LETTER of application from a Chi- * cago resident to the manager of an underwriting firm in Shanghai, as for warded to us by a delighted Richard Sanders : "Dear Sir: I am WONG SING FU. It is for my personal benefit that I write for a position in your Honor able Firm. I have a flexible brain and will adapt itself to your business and in consequential bring good efforts to your Honorable Selves. My education was being impressed upon me in the Peking University in which place I graduate Number One. "I can drive a typewriter with good noise, and my English is simple and great. My reference care of the good class and shall you hope to see me they will be read by you with great pleasure. "My last job has left itself from me, for the good reason that the large man has died. It was on account no fault of mine at all. "So Honorable Sir, what about it? "If I can be of big uses to you, I will arrive on the same date that you should guess." zj\Cr. O'Brien Discovers the Word for Us RUNNING into Howard Vincent O'Brien, who exclaimed "Fiend!" we renewed the historic O'Brien-O'Riq debate by asking the author of An Abandoned Woman if he, too, did not think the characters in this novel analyzed their emotions overmuch in stead of surrendering to them as a mat ter of romantic course. Did the author not agree with us, in short that his storybook people thought too much in their adventures? However, much this would be true in actual life? "No!" cried O'Brien, as usual. "In real life, people do not think at all. That is the difference between life and fiction." A promising discussion was cut short, however, when Mr. Robert J. Casey rolled down the corridor, as Caseys are what O'Briens really pre fer to argue with. So we left the two happy warriors, after whom, by the way, the twin griffins in the Victor Lawson fountain are named, effective this issue of Town Talk. And by the way, again, Howard O'Brien lately of fered a prize of ten dollars for "the best letter on the state of culture in this barbarian land." This ten dollars, far as we recall, is the first definite market quotation in years on the value of culture, for re sale purposes. The very considerably larger Nobel prize proudly won by Babbitt was, of course, for that bril liant depiction of a lucrative lac\ of culture. "z%Cada??ie Is B/ase?" EDITH G. SHUCK, in the Hews cookery page: "For the housewife who has had the problem of using the left-over turkey for many years this may be of little interest — " (Jautious ANOTHER thoughtful lady, of K. M. S.'s acquaintance, worried over her savings account in a neighbor hood bank in Hollywood, finally ap proached the paying teller and de manded her three thousand dollars and eighteen cents in toto. The unmoved apple vendor is Marlene Dietrich, latest sovereign in the uneasy dynasty founded by Theda Bara, tvhose choice between Adolphe Menjou, Gary Cooper and both supplies .Morocco with motivation and things like that. A revieiv of the picture appears on page 24. THE CHICAGOAN 17 Leslie Howard gives a superb performance in the roles of a couple of Peter Standishes in Berkeley Square at the Selwyn; one being a modern young man and the other that young man's ancestor; a Londoner of the period of George III. She knew it would have been all right where it was, she told the teller, but the idea just got on her mind nights, and she was going to fix it so there could be no future worry. With a reproving smile, the official counted out her money and handed it to the anxious lady. "I would like it if, you please, in a cashier's check," she told him. In a moment or two she had the cashier's check. "And now what are you going to do with it?" asked the banker. "Put it in my safety deposit vault," cried the lady proudly. T)uel in Porcelain Politely designed on a Chinese plate, How piquant is this scene all Of porcelain love and painted hate er, On a background palely green . . . nd so With studious hands on a battle mace Poses a prince in blue; :ial While a red' gowned other, face to face, it Holds a sword I shudder to view. in I thin\ they are fighting a porcelain duel, ;he For the blue'dressed princely foe Loo\s courteously calm and cruel do As he raises one painted toe; t," While the red-gowned prince's chilly eyes Have an equally slanting glance As his own left boot doth neatly rise In a similar China dance. To they death they're battling, I sup pose, For the nearby maid in white, Whose almond eyes watch both of those Flourish mace and sword upright: Cherries red festoon her hair, The hem of her blouse is blue; Which prince's love would she rather share? Which rather have cut in two? There in their final dance, these twain Gesture with mace and sword That one of the pair shall wed with pain, And one be the cool maid's lord. But whether the simpering China maid Awaiting the carnage to be Will smile at last from her eyes of jade Or swoon li\e a bolt-struc^ tree, As her red lover lies in a bath of gore Or the blue one's head rolls 'way, Is a problem I've pondered hopelessly o'er, And shall not solve today. Even her princes never shall \now Which shall live with the maid as mate: Ere either had struc\ the Chinese blow, I dropped that China plate . . . It shattered discreetly on the floor; Where, no doubt to their surprise, Mingled with her they battled for, Each lover in pieces lies. — PROF. JEKYLL OF HYDE PARK. Thoughts on Leaving 53rd Street THE old Fine Arts building in Jackson Park begins to look pretty good in its new and permanent form. There are, of course, the usual reac tionaries who sigh that it's not the old ruin, that the old plaster didn't show dirt like the new stone, and that by the time it's finished it will be as dingy as the downtown Field Museum's well- smoked exterior. Where does the smoke all come from, now that the I. C. is electrified, except for its Florida trains? Not that we can honestly blame a Florida- iJIy bound train from spouting a little smoke from its excited funnel, and making all the noise it can from its en- rise gine exhausts, too as it hurries its great cold wheels toward a summer that mocks the calendar. up- We have never been to Florida, but believe the idea is good for business. 18 THE CHICAGOAN It makes you buy a lot of summer clothing, and by the time summer comes your Florida clothing is all worn out, and you have to buy an extra out fit, which stimulates the garment trade to turnovers instead of pancakes. There is probably as good a reason for going to southern California, just to show you how fairminded we are. For the moment, however, we lean to the idea of a Florida vacation. Per haps because we recently saw the movie version of The Girl of the Golden West. 'Dainty Marie VISITING the Palace for perhaps the first time in five years (vaude ville always disturbs us, somehow, and all the more, now that this once flour ishing art is almost on a ghost basis), we saw Dainty Marie again. There ought to be a book about Dainty Marie: we've heard her praised, for years and years, by this or that vaude ville patron or friend in the show business. Is it twenty-five years that she has climbed that dangerous rope, or was it even before that, that her white silk tights, then a perilous novelty, startled the American public? Even these un sentimental eyes were dazzled again at the dancing pagan shadow she makes, during her breathtaking evolutions, on the drop-curtain behind her. Then she descends to the footlights and con fides she is fifty years old. . . . Our old army buddy, Delmar Yungmeier (and some time let us tell you of the time he and Ralph Dunbar and Lorna Doone Jackson helped your Mr. Riq break into vaudeville, from a previous Greek teaching position, in a now vanished managerial studio on 53 rd street) recalls he was in Minne apolis or somewhere one afternoon when an ambulance suddenly went clanging down the street. "I'll bet it's Dainty Marie, fallen again," cried Delmar and followed the ambulance to the theatre. It was. "Her act is very dangerous," Yung meier added. "She reads a lot, too." And he explained he meant books as well as Variety. January Clearance THE credit man at one State street store got a smile when he opened a returned-after-Christmas, package. "It contained two children's dresses," he tells us, "and a slip of explanation from the worried mother, reading: 'Returned because of wrong sizes. Lit tle one too big. Big one too small.' "And isn't there a theme song or something in that?" Just an Illusion STARK YOUNG, in the Hew Re public, on something that we fear is still an unsolved puzzle: "For anybody who has heard noth ing talked about, and who never gets a letter worth reading, the lucubrations of some columnist who tells where he has been the night before and what thoughts seem interesting — or salable • — to him, make for a very happy post every morning. The reader has the il lusion of possessing a leisurely and in telligent friend, full of things to say to him, or he seems to his subconscious self to have gotten a letter." Interesting Facts about Music MUSIC is of immoral origin, as the first musical instrument (the lyre) was invented by the god of Theft (Hermes). Plato considered song-writers (poets) so dangerous to society that he banned them from his ideal Republic. Ali Baba and his Forty Thieves were apparently the original jazz band. One of the objections to the trom bone, as voiced by Mr. Will Rogers, is that it sounds like a cow but does not give milk. The violin group of instruments comes in sizes, like shoes. Violin, viola, violoncello and double-bass may thus be thought of as the sandal, ox ford, high shoe and galosh of stringed music. It is interesting to reflect that Fred erick the Great played the flute, while President Harding was proficient on the tuba. The French Horn was really invent ed by a German after hearing a Swiss summoning his chamois to the evening meal. That Brahms concerto is not the only concerto which would be more en tertaining if the conductor forgot his suspenders. The Bassoon sounds like a large Turkish rug dancing on a marble floor. The Harp is played with a harpoon, like a whale. Musicians conventionally wear their hair long to avoid percussion of the brain when struck on the head by the conductor's baton, which was original ly six feet long like a scythe. The curious thing about Beethoven's nine symphonies is that, almost invari ably, it is the odd-numbered ones which have survived on the radio. Henry Kitchell Webster once had a cat which liked water and Guy Hardy once fooled a dog by donning a bor rowed raincoat, around which the dog ran six times in great perplexity. Mr. Webster also recalls an asthma case where the boy could eat hen chicken meat but not rooster chicken meat. The connection of these last inci dents with Music may sometime be as certained and are here added merely in the interest of science. \jn Now Authors Can Sit Down AN enthusiastic letter from Eliza- . beth Knobel informs the Society of Midland Authors that at last they have a ROOM (the capitals are Miss Knobel's) in the Hotel Sherman: ap parently a Christmas present from Mr. Byfield, with Harlan Ware acting as the reindeer. Book shelves are being built in this ROOM, whose dimensions are as yet unannounced, and the shelves are to be filled with autographed copies of the membership's masterpieces. As this ROOM will doubtless be thronged with local writers desiring to inspect their colleagues' works free, we would sug gest to Mr. Byfield, if the idea is not too late, that the walls of the ROOM be of plate glass, with a soundproof corridor surrounding it for awed other citizens wishing to look at the lions. The Much More Mature Marines THIS may be of some service in settling that historic question as to the relative value of the Marines and the Navy. [Or it may not. We don't care, really.] But a lady who was with the Red Cross during the war thinks that Marines are more mature than the Navy boys. "I nursed them both, at different times and in different war hospitals,"' she recalls. "You know, whenever a number of men are brought together in a hospital as patients, sooner or later THE CHICAGOAN 19 "I'm Mister Toastle — I'm hunting fox' they will get childish and start pillow- fights. "Well, in the Navy sickrooms, the boys would start throwing pillows the first night they came in. But the Ma rines seemed to have more manly re serve. It would be the second or third night, before they would get to the pil low-throwing." IN QUOTES Arthur Brisbane: You know that matter is made of molecules, molecules of atoms, each atom a little solar system with electrons revolving around a central nucleus. Walter Winchell: When I write for a long time with a pencil I get a cramp in my arm. B. W. Snow: The subcommittee reported that after ten days of almost continuous daily sessions it had found the complexities of the situation, the difficulty in bringing together the rep resentatives of other groups and or ganizations at this season had made it impossible to agree upon any candidate who in himself met all the needs of the situation. William Randolph Hearst: Well! There are a whole lot of us plain American citizens who agree with Senator Norris and who are glad that we still have some statesmen who are not political chameleons. Ted Cook: A racketeer is the guy who gets the police protection that we pay for. Dr. W. A. Evans: The advantage of a hot paraffin bath over a hot water bath is that the skin will stand 120 degrees while in paraffin whereas hot water with a temperature of 110 is unbearable. Calvin Coolidge: We need a better understanding between business and government. James Weber Linn: Young men in their games are magnificent, if well drilled; but boys and girls in their singing, if equally well drilled, are an exaltation. O. O. McIntyrE: There are girls, too , whose beauty is like bright thrusts of lightning that flash in a somber sky and are seen no more. Marion Holmes: If you wish to give an informal party which will keep every one "on his toes" all evening try a left-handed party. \m Louis L. Emmerson: Government u the biggest business within the state. A. A. StagG: My point of view may be a bit old-fashioned. W. H. Thompson: Mighty influ ences and unlimited money are ob structing efforts to clear up the Lingle murder. Carl Sandburg: We talked with a man who played golf with Gene Tunney; he said that at every hole Tunney had some quotation from Shakespeare or some remark from Bernard Shaw. Gene Tunney: I want to get away from it all. I want to get into solitudes of the great north woods. Wl Dorothy Dix: A college professor advises young men to marry their secretaries. w\ Will Payne: One should keep in mind also that though the Caribbean has a land area equal to about two- thirds that of Continental United States, and nearly one-third the popu lation, it is a region of primary indus try, with only a trace of finished manufactures. W\ H. L. Mencken: True enough, young writers of genuine originality are always violently denounced by cer tain groups of oldsters. MEMOIK Now Winter is frosty in the sky And in no spot of the narrow lane Shall any mark of our footsteps lie Or any sign of our love remain — We have gone forever, you and I. The paths, and the little lake, I think, Are still unchanged, and the pine trees still Reach for the flickering stars, and shrink From the lapping water — and past the hill The maple's bough turns a burning pink. And all shall be as it was before . . . The mountain ash with its scarlet berry Shall still flame on . . . and the weep ing birch Shall flutter its fragile leaves, and search For two lost lovers who once were merry . . . For two lost lovers, who come no more. — DOROTHY DOW. 20 THE CHICAGOAN GO, CHICAGO! A Wary New Year By LUCIA LEWIS MAYBE the seamy side of travel is a subject this column should avoid but then, the New Year is al ways a good time to Face Things. If we can instil a little discretion into the dear public our duty is done for the year, so lay on Cassandra! One can't, of course, travel without meeting people and making friends. He who avoids human contacts loses half the fun and value of any trip. But why do shrewd business leaders get fleeced by pseudo antique dealers or club brothers? Why do impeccable matrons (who turn the X-Ray eye on every newcomer in their circle at home) suddenly swoon and sigh over slick-haired lads who bow from the waist and kiss the hand while they ap praise Madame's emeralds? For those who fare forth to meet the world with open hand and adven turous heart, but who pack along their usual good judgment and a measure of discretion, travel is a happy affair and no seamy sides. For the others — oh la! you should hear the wails that have come my way this past twelvemonth. Card sharps, of course, are every where and if you jine up with gambling strangers you have only your self to blame. On trains, remember you have no redress even if you can prove the stranger a professional cheat. If you complain, you are all arrested for gambling on an interstate train. Pickpockets and confidence men thrive where travelers are. In the sum mer in the wake of vacationists in the northeast, the west, and Europe. In the winter, after the southern-bound. Like flocks of migrating birds in search of pleasant and easy feeding grounds, they follow the traveler. Thieves pre fer cash and jewels. They are more afraid of travelers' checks, as all the large companies which provide travel funds have squads of alert secret serv ice men to protect their paper and their clients. But checks are stolen too, and the trailing of the criminals who steal them makes as exciting reading as any Sher lock Holmes. Frequently, in tracking down a travel check theft they capture criminals wanted for everything from picking pockets to burgling banks or murder. American Express, for in stance, has a powerful secret service, its "Inspector's Staff," which has had a large part in rounding up international crooks. One notorious criminal made a mistake and stole some traveler's checks in Germany. The Inspector's Staff chased him from Berlin to France, from France to Italy, from Italy to Africa, from Africa to China, and from China to Chile. There he was captured and sent back to Ger many and prison. The trail of another thief led from Europe to Africa to South America to China, and now he nestles sadly in a Chinese prison. An inspector is assigned every win ter to Havana and Miami, where Americans congregate. But in 1928 there was an unusual amount of thievery in St. Petersburg where near ly $300,000 in cash and jewels and a few checks were lifted from the tour ists. Last year, therefore, one of the American Express men lingered a bit in St. Petersburg and rapidly spotted nineteen familiar criminal faces. They spotted him as well, and the total of six wallets of travelers' checks which had been stolen were found the next few days tossed into doorways and alleys. During the rest of the winter not an other theft or confidence racket was reported by tourists in St. Petersburg. GUARDING against theft is just a matter of ordinary caution. In crowds in the Loop the average person is careful of purse and belongings and yet in the crowding and excitement at the pier when a ship leaves her berth many people forget their possessions entirely, until they suddenly find they haven't them any more. Some time ago a gang of pickpockets infested a New York pier. Wild cables from out at sea came in to financial companies frantically complaining that their travel funds had been stolen. There were as many as a dozen cables from each ship leaving that pier. Secret service men were soon on the job, the light-fingered gentry were hauled in, and for awhile Americans sailed un molested. But eternal vigilance is the price of a full wallet. Even those who travel modestly with no fortune in jewels are preyed upon by petty thieves. Steamship companies warn passengers to lock their state rooms whenever they leave them. Yet this summer, the first day out, a young friend of mine trotted calmly off to dinner without bothering about her stateroom. When she returned, a very beautiful traveling clock was missing. While that is no tremendous loss a good clock is a good clock, especially when it's a fond farewell gift. And every loss is a fly in the pleasant oint ment that travel should be. In Europe, baggage is handled dif ferently and must be watched, unless you are in the hands of a travel bureau or courier who has undertaken the bag gage problem for you. But even then you always have handbags and small bags which may easily be filched. We wouldn't, of course, have you go ing about suspecting every good honest European of designs on your luggage. Almost uniformly the porters and those assigned to help with bags at the sta tions, frontier points, and hotels are honest and authentic. But the sly fry are everywhere too, and their meat is the "wealthy" American who is a bit bewildered by strange languages and regulations. A bag left in the com partment of a train while its owner goes forward to the diner, or one set on a curb while he hails a taxi around the corner, is not always safe, as two friends of mine discovered in Italy last summer. THEN again, you don't want to be come a collector of foreign monies. In certain sections of different coun tries in Europe a certain form of money may be perfectly good legal ten der; in another section of that same country it is useless. So don't let the natives unload too much currency upon you unless you wish to return to the city of its origin to spend it. And ah! the confidence men. They tackle the befuddled and the sober alike. An American detective, main tained in Paris to protect American tourists, came upon a successful coun tryman, as keen a business man as one can find, in a rather badly-known res taurant with two notorious French confidence men. The American was a bit under the weather and signing away his travelers' checks as fast as his hand could work. The detective ap proached the group, stood the two crooks against the wall, relieved them of the checks they already had, picked up the owner's checks, gave him his card and told him to come around the next day to get them when he could spend them more intelligently. It ap peared the American thought he was THE CHICAGOAN THE STAGE Time Takes a Holiday By WILLIAM C. BOYDEN paying for an imported, smuggled dia mond brooch. A dozen like it could be bought anywhere for five francs apiece. But that instance doesn't mean that perfectly sober individuals are free from the attacks of the confidence group. Too much confidence in new acquaintances is often as dangerous as too much confidence in one's capacity. An astute, middle-western manufac turer became quite friendly with an en tertaining man who claimed to hail from a neighboring city, enjoyed the same things, had the same interests, and all that sort of thing. They first met on a Europe-bound steamer and kept on "bumping into each other" in Europe. They found themselves to gether again on a boat bound for Naples and Cairo. The entertaining stranger left the boat at Naples with enough information about the middle- westerner to write his biography, and also a few well selected business cards and letters. The following day the manufacturer's firm received a cable gram detailing the loss of travel funds and requesting that two thousand dol lars be cabled over in care of a famous international bank. The cable came, the business cards, the letters and a few wisely chosen mementos, proved the stranger's identity. Rumor has it that he lived well throughout the sea' son, while the manufacturer sputtered in Cairo when he heard the news. OMEN, of course, make the finest game for the army of suave crooks. As soon as a well- dressed woman registers at a good ho tel her name and room number is scanned by this eager brotherhood. Beautifully engraved cards are sent to her begging for permission to meet her in the lobby. Some bear American names with military titles, others for eign names with hereditary titles. Some have important information to give, others speak in flattering innuendo and simply ooze the tang of adventure. It's surprising to find how many ultra-con servative women swallow this flattery, hook, line and sinker, and take up with utter strangers on as slim an introduc tion as this. Or they are introduced by chance acquaintances and trot blithely about with "temporarily im poverished" noblemen to whom they lend money and by whom they are frequently robbed to boot. Well, may be the thrill is worth the loss but I'm warning you anyway. AFTER being set back three nights by laryngitis, Leslie Howard overcame the handicap and traversed Berkeley Square to win by a clear voice. In space he covers one room on the stage of the Selwyn Theatre; in time he moves backward more than a century and forward at least a year. The play is dated 1928. The projec tion into the future involves the hum ming of Moanin Low & year before it was written; the retrogression into the past a metaphysical transmigration of one Peter Standish into the eighteenth century — 1784 to be exact. The idea of time as "unity in the mind of God" acknowledges indebtedness to Henry James, the novelist who wrote like a philosopher, but sounds just as much like his brother, William James, the philosopher who wrote like a novelist. In broader vein Mark Twain used the same whimsical conception in his Connecticut Tan\ee. Almost everyone has at some time experienced a Sense of the Past, an identification with bygone things, when in properly conducive surround ings. The fun of taking our present day knowledge into less enlightened periods of history affords agreeable pabulum to nourish pleasing day dreams. Peter Standish, the present- day proprietor of a house on Berkeley Square, loses himself in the personality of his great or great-great grandfather who returned from America after the Revolutionary War. For a brief time his soul inhabits the body of his an cestor during the palmy days of Reynolds, Gainsborough, Sheridan, Doctor Johnson et al. With easy skill Leslie Howard moves among the bucks from White's Club and the lovely feminine visions immortalized by the painters of the time, avoiding with smartly phrased witticisms the pitfalls caused by his supernatural knowledge. He knocks the Duchess of Devonshire dead with a few of Oscar Wilde's choicest epigrams and insults a diplo mat of the period by talking about making the world safe for democracy. A note of eerie and beautiful romance is struck by his falling in love with the wrong girl, the sister of the lady that history decrees he had married. The only possible escape is the abracadabra which carries him through the roar of a thunder storm back to the hurly- burly of this modern era. In hands less sensitive than those of Leslie Howard it is doubtful if Berke ley Square would be much more than a clever comedy idea, comparable to the similarly psychic opus, Death Ta\es a Holiday. But this finest of young actors casts an aura of charm and credibility over the evening by his sentient and delicately conceived portrayal of the pivotal character. His work is superb, and he was wise in deed to delay the opening until he could give his best. In Mr. Howard's support is some very competent acting. Chicago's own Louise Prussing etches nicely The Lady Anne Pettigrew, whom Standish should have loved, and Dorothy Black burn projects with keen persuasion the brittle superficiality of the Duchess of Devonshire, a grand dame of the day. There is a general idea current that Margalo Gillmore is a great actress. I find her disappointing, but perhaps this is just an idiosyncracy. Two men stand out, Charles Romano, as a roist ering buck who gambles at White's and kisses servant girls, and Tarver Penna, a gossipy little man who re minds one of an eighteenth century Walter Winchell. Ber\eley Square is a good play, brought by one splendid piece of act ing into the general vicinity of greatness. ilhCystery Woman HO is she? This riddle per vades the three acts of the Dramatic League's fourth play, As Ton Desire Me, at the Harris. Not, however, until the last scene does the question become burning. How it burns then! For sheer suspense Judith Anderson's battle against the unbelief of her supposed husband has rarely been surpassed. It is tensile with emotion carried at a high pitch. Miss Anderson represents the triumph of fire over matter. She is not a beauti ful woman, viewed by the yard-stick of classical standards, but her whole body seems to radiate feeling, taut and vibrant. She has in her the passion essential to greatness. 22 THE CHICAGOAN The problem posed by the thought ful Mr. Pirandello is predicated on the idea that you are likely to get what the quality of your desire deserves. An Italian aristocrat lost his wife ten years before in the havoc of wartime pillage and rapine. Jose Ruben, one of the good actors, plays an artist- friend who believes he finds the miss ing woman, Lucia, in the lush degen eracy of Berlin night-life. This first act is hot-house rich with cloying sex perfume. It bodes ill. But the cere bration behind the drama emerges when the woman is taken to her al leged husband in his lovely villa. Dramatic conflict begins and conflicts all over the place. Whether or not Lucia is the wife in the flesh, she is initially not so in spirit. She asks the husband to "make me as you desire me." Uncertain as to her positive identity and moved by mercenary mo tives arising from legal considerations, the negative husband, negatively played by Brandon Peters, fails to meet the test. Lucia rebuilds without the help of strong desire. Crisis and fate enter in the piteous figure of an insane, wrecked woman, who has the requisite strawberry-mark on her left breast. From this point Miss Anderson is gorgeous in her sudden change from trying to be the real wife into a denial of her right to the position. Even when she mocking ly leaves the doubting Thomases to go out alone into the night, one is not sure which of the women is authentic — the poor wretch with the right body but no soul, or the gloriously de veloped creature with the soul but the wrong body. The only mystery about the average mystery play is why it was ever produced. As Tou Desire Me is a mystery problem which the intellect can be proud to ponder. It tantalizes and piques, stimulates and intrigues. As suggested, the play is Judith Anderson's, but several other thespes fit snugly into the picture. Doulglass (not misspelled, if the program is cor rect) Dumbrille deserts baritoning in operetta to do a little villaining in a manner sufficiently bestial to please the most sadistic. As Lucia's first act lover, he dirty-dogs in hissable Simon Legree manner. A couple of elderly Italian aristocrats are genteel and sin cere in the hands of Vera Hurst and Phillip Leigh. For sustained vacuity, Amy Jonap runs the corpse in Sub' way Express a close second by her complete inertia as the demented piece of war-wreckage. Mary Miner appears briefly as a young girl in the slime of the first act, and to good effect. On the whole, a satisfactory eve ning — building steadily to a powerful last act. It would be interesting to consider the effect of midnight dead lines on American playwriting. Cer tainly, most of the final scenes by na tive dramatists are a let down and no great loss to the critics of the morning dailies. Mr. Pirandello did not know that Ashton Stevens and Charles Col lins would miss the best part of his play. But the author is recompensed by making the distinguished scribes come back and handle the finale in a Sunday article. One in Bedlam IT is rare that a burlesque melodrama reminds one of beautiful poetry. Yet, watching George Cohan's intrigu ing portrayal of a madman in his re vival of The Tavern at the Blackstone, the lines of Ernest Dowson's exquisite lyrics on the dreams of the insane kept recurring to my mind: "Know they what dreams divine Lift his long, laughing reveries like en chanted wine, And make his melancholy germane to the stars?" There seemed to be some kinship be tween Dowson's maniac in his caged universe and Cohan's daffy vagabond who wanted Life to mirror the thea tre. Particularly so, when the star comes to the footlights and delivers his modern paraphrase of "All the world's a stage." There is nothing new in the idea of viewing Life as a vast drama at which one is the sole spectator. But as Cohan speaks of this earthly hulla- balloo as a bully show and trusts he may some day meet the Director, it seems that the man is voicing his own philosophy. Starting with a bang of the loudest back-stage thunder heard for many years, The Tavern is a nightmare of deliriously improbable happenings, bearing cartoon resemblance to the ro mantic drama once so prevalent on our stage. Kidding the blood-and-thunder stuff at this late date may seem like lampooning the hoop-skirt and the two-seated bicycle, but Cohan rejuven ates as well as revives the ten year old burlesque. His conception of the Vagabond goes far afield from the ro mantic posturing of the gracile Lowell Sherman. All the Cohanisms of the past are brought into play — the finger held up in admonition or flicked to the nose, the trim little hoofer's feet break ing into a dance, the flip come-back, the striding about the stage, the sharp ly expressive glances. No one makes a comedy point so deftly. As the central figure, as well as the Greek chorus, in a melodrama farced to the nth degree, he is in clover. If you only keep your eyes glued on his face, you have re ceived quid pro quo for the price of a pasteboard. Cohan is reputed to stick by his friends. One can believe it in seeing the number of actors he has carried over from Gambling — Robert Middle- mass, Theodore Newton, Katherine Niday, Isabel Baring. He is also about the shrewdest thing in the theatre, so you can be sure these people are all as good kidders as they were melodram- actors in last season's success. Joseph Allen, a veteran of the original pro duction a decade ago, still asks "What's all the shooting fur?" He still gets no answer, but lots of laughs. One Shirley Grey brings a vivid blondness and well attuned acting to the role of the Woman. The Tavern in 333 North Michigan Avenue was never as wild and hilari ous on New Year's Eve as The Tavern in the Blackstone is every night. If hard times have brought George Cohan back to the stage, let us awaifi more patiently the next bull market. Old Stone Week FRED STONE paralyzes criticism. What can one say about a man who has been for years one of the most beloved figures in the theatre; who re turns to do India-rubber clog dancing after a devastating airplane accident which broke most of the bones of his body; whose company consists largely of his own family performing with him in affectionate rapport; who, in an era of leers and dirt, produces extrava ganza as clean as a milkweed pod; who keeps a form of entertainment open to children which otherwise might be closed to them? He could produce a musical show based on the Elsie books with lyrics by Eddie Guest and music by Carrie Jacobs Bond, and make his audiences like it. Fred Stone leaves criticism flat on its back, groggy and gasping. But here goes. In spite of the sentimental glow which pervades the occasion, Ripple:, causes no marked upheaval on the theatrical sea. It is naive material and a trifle dullish. Mr. Stone, deprived of his gymnastics and acrobatics, falls back on a bit of dancing, a dozen bizarre costumes, some gagging, and THE CHICAGOAN 23 foolery with the sort of trick props more drolly manipulated by Ed Wynn. He will be found very amusing by his sub-adolescent clientele. For adults his appeal is chiefly to one's affections. It is difficult to resist the man's personal ity, his spotless record, his gallant come-back — to say nothing of the pleasing domestic picture of a father dancing with his two daughters. Paula has been added to the company this season and seems likely to make Doro thy hump to keep up with her. This younger girl is darker, taller, looks like Dad, and possesses a sense of humor. In another column Professor Turbyfill gives you the low-down on the stepping of the Stones. The thin thread of plot concerns the mishaps of a hypothetical descendant of Rip Van Winkle. In the title part Mr. Stone kerplunks into a bed of tulips, frolics with a troupe of dwarfs, drinks a lot of mountain-dew from a jug, shoots ducks with a right-angle gun. His pretty offsprings caper blithely about, submit to well man nered love-making from discreet young men and display proper respect for their distinguished father. The music is so-so. A ballet of the falling leaves of Autumn, with the stage trees gradu ally shaking off their foliage, rates high. The supporting cast contains several acceptable people. An ingenue named Cynthia Foley makes a distinct hit as a hoydenish, wide-eyed Peter Pan of the Woods, who innocently asks An drew Tombes for a dress, a fur-coat and some jewelry. Tombes, a veteran comic, works chiefly as a strait-man for Fred Stone and is competent in the as signment. The tenor is fortunate to have been christened Charles Collins. His hair is blacker and curlier than the eminent critic of the Tribune, but he is not nearly so handsome. In behavior he demeans himself in a manner worthy of the great name he bears. Billy Taylor, a hoofer with a different comedy technique, registers big. This lad has a future and will probably emulate the chiropractor who, accord ing to one of the gags herein, works up to be a nose and throat specialist. As a vacation treat for sub-debs and sub-freshmen, Ripples fulfills every re quirement. For out-of-town-buyers, I am not so sure. Americana HAROLD TEEN is back. Rah! Rah! Rah! This time he is called Jonesy, a bumptious lad who fills [turn to page 26] Abundant hea Freedom from fatigue — Satisfying slenderness Elizabeth Arden's newest treatment THE ARDENA BATH Away with those extra pounds you are dragging around — a menace to your disposition as well as your figure! Away with the bunchy hip- cushions that threaten the success of your newest frock! And the fatty padding that is settling between your shoulder blades — the "thick/'sh look of your upper arm — they shall be banished, too. 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Your skin is flushed — your eyes are cleared and brightened. That tired feeling of "puffiness" throughout the whole body disappears. And when you step on the scales you find you are appreciably lighter. The Ardena BathTreatments are so much in demand that appointments should be made at least two days in advance if possible. And you should arrange first for an interview wifh Miss Arden's Director of Exercise, since all of Miss Arden's scientific body treat ments are specially prescribed for each individual. For an appointment, please telephone Superior 6952. ELIZABETH ARDEN CHICAGO: 70 EAST MEW YORK • PARIS • LONDON • WALTON PLACE BERLIN • ROME • MADRID ©Elizabeth Arden,1937 24 TMC CHICAGOAN HAVANA ;«.i ^^fr-^m PANAMA CANAL CALIFORNIA on a grand) CIRCLE TOUR. 5500 MILES AROUND AMERICA 3000 MILES ACROSS AMERICA TAKE the train to San Francisco or New York . . . sail around America, 5500 miles, over the famous Recreation Route, on a great electric liner offering every shipboard luxury. Tour Havana by motor car — slide thru the Panama Canal and visit Panama City and Balboa — see the high spots of San Diego, Los Angeles, San Fran cisco. Then— back to Chicago by rail, stop ping off at principal points of tourist in terest. Here is an 8500 mile circle tour you'll enjoy keenly. Thousands now take this round trip every year and pronounce it the most delightful combination of water and rail ever offered at moderate cost. Home town back to home town again in only three leisurely weeks. For full information ask us for booklet — "Tours Around and Across America" — with list of sug gested itineraries, or apply to any steamship or railroad agent. 1 80 No. Michigan Ave., Chicago, 111. Panama faclfic **'„ ALL H E W #|r S T IE AM E R ii THE CINEMA What — No Awards? By WILLIAM R. WEAVER IF no one cares weTl not issue honor awards this year. Not because there was nothing notable — remember Journey's End and Abraham Lincoln — but because a reasonably sustained attention to affairs of the cinema over more years than is good for one has convinced me that medals for artistic glory lead but to the grave. George Loane Tucker got one for The Miracle Man and died. D. W. Griffith got several for The Birth of a Ration and was comatose for ten years. Fred Niblo was decorated for Ben Hur and what's become of Fred? We needn't include the sad case of Rex Ingram and Scaramouche to prove that the thing to do with a good man is treat him well and give him no breastpins. Now as to pictures . . . 'Morocco" THE name is Marlene Dietrich. She is ninth or tenth or twentieth in the succession founded by Theda Bara and, if youTl accept my inexpert testimony, a sturdier occupant of the always shakey Bara throne than any it has supported. She compares most directly to Greta Garbo, probably be cause she talks like her, but why com pare? It is a sort of duty to see these gals and of course you will. Morocco is notable primarily as Miss Dietrich's first picture, secondarily as the one that brings Adolphe Menjou back to his proper place in American pictures, and thirdly as Director Von Sternberg's nearest approach to legiti mate entertainment ... he got to the final sequence this time before going melo. If none of these appears to be sufficient reason for seeing the picture perhaps the sum of them will. I'd say do. "Lightnin'" I CAN see no point in remarking that Will Rogers is not Frank Ba con. He doesn't claim to be. For that matter, I can think of several reasons why he wouldn't want to be. There's the Beech Nut income, the radio money, and there's Lightnin' ' , Bacon's play surely enough, but just as surely a play that Bacon wouldn't have wanted to die with him. But I can see a good deal of point in remarking that Will Rogers does a swell job of picturing, modernizing and popularising Frank Bacon's play. He's always Rogers, never Lightnin-" Bill Jones, and certainly never Frank Bacon, and when Rogers is Rogers there can be no solid ground for com plaint on quantity, quality and con tinuity of entertainment given. What I'm trying to say is that Will Rogers in Lightnin, supported by Louise Dresser and a generous helping of Nevada scenery, is as good a picture as anyone ought to ask to see. You mustn't miss it. "Part Time Wife" THE all but lost art of plot writ ing comes to the rescue of Ed mund Lowe and Leila Hyams in their exercises under the misleading caption, The Part Time Wife. It's not any of the things the title may suggest. It is a light little story of married people whose marital difficulties are not too serious to be ironed out on a golf links. Nothing momentous about it, nor sig nificant, nor exciting, nor subtle, it's just a pleasantly managed and nicely mannered hour if you've nothing else to do. "Free Love" ON the other hand, Free Love is the picture you might expect The Part Time Wife to be. Conrad Nagel and Genevieve Tobin are the free lovers, although safely married and only verbally free, and the punch of the picture seems to be the one Mr. Nagel gives Miss Tobin on the chin. If you care for fisticuffs Free Love may be precisely what you're looking for, but if it's the title that attracts you you're nearer what you seek in almost any other cinema. "The Lash" THEY'VE made an early Cali fornia Robin Hood of Dick Barthelmess and Dick has made a Robin Hood as bloody as anyone could possibly relish. He shoots from the hip, asks or gives no quarter, saves the old rancho for little sister Dolores and rides gaily over the line into Mex ico and freedom. It's all quite excit- THE CHICAGOAN 25 ing, quite well acted, but it doesn't seem to mean anything. Dick's been having trouble in all his pictures lately. "Billy The Kid" MENTION of The Lash reminds me that I forgot to say any thing about Billy the Kid, seen some weeks ago, and perhaps I forgot it because it is still another Americaniza tion of Robin Hood. In this one New Mexico is the scene and John Mack Brown is the boy with the nervous trigger finger. But this one has a number of things in its favor. There's a notable attention to period detail (King Vidor directed it) and there's a historical background and there seems to be a point, although I don't recall just now what it is, to the story. Also, it's one of those big-screen pictures that are supposed to be stereoscopic. It isn't, but it's worth a look. "Follow the Leader" ED WYNN, Lou Holts and others of their ilk (I use the word be cause Ed would) have a great time among themselves in Follow the Leader and most of it infects a given audience. Wellj as Ed would say, maybe not most of it, but as much of it as can be heard between public outbursts. Well, if not outbursts, good solar laughs. Like the first Marx Brothers vehicle, the audience laughs so hard at the first joke that the next three are lost ... if you're giving a cinema evening for friends I know no better comedy for it. This is, so far as I know, Ed Wynn's first motion picture. I'm sure there'll be more, and if they're as good as this one that's news. "The Czar of Broad-way" JOHN WRAY and John Harron and a lot of other people do a lot of good acting in The Czar of Broad way. If the insurance companies don't buy the picture and destroy it (the Czar insures each victim's life before having him dispatched) it will ac quaint you with several features of underworld existence that you may have missed. These are, I fancy, as fictional as the picture, and the pic ture's a bit too fictional for complete satisfaction. Perhaps it was too fic tional for censors, too, because they restricted large portions of it to their personal edification. Maybe these por tions would have made the remaining portions seem better. *K<4JKW->. i"-VFTER the theatre make White Rock a part of the party. - - If you enjoy ginger ale, you will be pleased with White Rock Ginger Ale — the only ginger ale made with this leading mineral water. 26 TMECWICAGOAN MUSIC Remains the Fashion Bfiiti 1 MUSIC Out of The Mouths of Babes By KOBERT POLLAK Then, as now, Lyon & Healy sent strings and woodwinds to make dreamy music behind banked palms when voluminous dust-ruffles gently swished to-and-fro in time to the mazes of the grand soiree CONDUCTOR Frederick Stock celebrated the Yuletide with a startling and notably successful experi ment. He brought several hundred children from seven junior high schools to the platform of Orchestra Hall and led them four times through the com plicated measures of Pierne's The Chil dren at Bethlehem, a gentle and tender little oratorio celebrating the Nativity. Their choral excellence was beyond dispute. They attacked firmly on the beat, eyed Herr Stock with eager atten tion, and sang every bar with nary a note of music. It was the kind of per formance that would have pleased King George and Mayor Thompson both, and it leads me to believe that if Dr. Browne and H. Ray Staater and Mary Farrel are representative tutors to the city's potentially musical youth we should all join in loud huzzas. Pierne's work is concise and surely wrought. It makes considerable use to good advantage of the ecclesiastical modes, and its orchestration is deliber ately sparse so that soloists and chorus stand out quietly, yet boldly. In spirit it is typical of this gentle Frenchman, pupil and disciple of Franck and — when I heard him last — expert and un assuming conductor of the Collonne. He seems fascinated with the pure re ligiosity of the child — witness The Children's Crusade — and no composer was ever better equipped to translate this fervent and naive ecstacy into music. The orchestra employed competent soloists, among them Raymund Koch, Eugene Dressier, and Anna Burmeis- ter, as characters in the miniature drama. But the fresh-voiced chorus was the real protagonist, advancing vocally through storm and wind to the cradle of Christ, presenting its humble gifts to the babe, and disappearing again with faintly echoing cries of "Noel." And just in case you were fortunate enough to have heard those faintly echoing tones, you may have wondered where that ethereal off-stage chorus was hiding. The superintendent at Orchestra Hall strung a wire from the stage to the mezzanine smoking room where Mr. DeLamarter heard The Children at Bethlehem through an am plifier. He had his auxiliary chorus up there, and at each of its cues ten ush ers opened the doors of ten boxes and the far-away sound drifted placidly into the auditorium. It was grand. THE editor likes his movies in English and without too much music so he sent me over to the Stude- baker where Zwei Herzen im Drei Viertel Ta\t has caught on amazingly — and not only with the members of the Lincoln Club. This film is expert ly, if inexpensively, produced, and it has a jolly story about two high-com edy librettists, their beautiful sister, and a handsome composer who can't find a waltz tune for his operetta. The music is by Robert Stolz who ranks only a little below the hierarchy of Lehar and Kalmann, and the waltz from which the picture takes its name would have done either of those gentle men great credit. You'll be humming it soon yourself. In spite of the fact that the picture uses no chorus it cap tures by indirection the spirit of Vienna and the waltz. HOLIDAY highlight . . . Plenty of music on and in the air in spite of the traditional lull of the fort night in theatres and concert halls. . . . On Wacker Drive a repeat per formance of Othello with Muzio, Mar shall and Marcoux. . . . The lady sings gloriously, Marshall not so glori ously. . . . Somebody should have told him long ago that he is a bari tone. . . . Marcoux as good as usual and more about that role some other time, and more too, later, about The Bartered Bride. . . . On the air a sturdy program of Bach and Handel from Stokowski which ended with a gift for Christmas of four old carols. . . . How thrilling they are when a symphony does them. . . . And two Sundays ago a reading of the Franck D minor from Toscanini which showed why he is the greatest of living maestros. . . . And why you can't get Ashton Stevens away from his Radiola of a Sunday afternoon. THE STAGE [begin on page 21] the Playhouse with more noise than a football celebration at a frat house. The part is played by Percy Helton in THE CHICAGOAN 27 explosive and exaggerated vein. Hel ton has been the bouncing boy of the American stage for the last decade. He is still able to adjust his actual age to characters of half as many years. I have not met many college boys as amusingly callow as Jonesy, but per haps they come that way from Siwash and other fictional seats of learning. Do not misunderstand me. This is not a college play. Just another of those wholesome charades broadly built around the woes and joys of the middle class. Such genre comedies of the do mestic scene, unfortunately not often well written, have a definite audience among those who laugh without dis crimination. They are as authentical ly American as anything done in the theatre. The Cort Theatre has housed them by the dozen, but Sport Her mann seems to be under wraps this season. The Playhouse is stealing his fire. Jonesy adds nothing of novelty to the well tried formula. The lad from the Hi Phelta Thi house and his hen pecked father get themselves and each other into troubles which would make Job's burdens seem venial. It all comes about because Jonesy falls in love with an actress who is regarded as a menace by his parents, but turns out to be the niece of the small town big-shot who can save Daddy Jones from insolvency. Minor complications are highly domes tic — the automobile gets lost; the hot water will not run; the laundry is not returned; corn flakes have to be sub stituted for the preferred grape nuts at the inevitable third act breakfast. A miscellaneous lot of fresh kid sisters, college chums, flappers from next door, harassed mothers and village cops hol ler around the premises. The abused and baldish pater familias is Uncle Dudleyed with his inimitable sweetness by Thomas W. Ross. He will be the right actor for the part when he learns his lines. The night I was present the prompter was roaring louder than the Bull of Basham. A pretty child, yclept Miriam Battista, displays a pair of beeg, black eyes and the interesting movie technique of moving her head front to profile, and then profile to front. Some of the younger members of the cast remind one of the Senior play at the Nicholas Senn High School. The aforesaid Percy Helton easily grabs the honors of the occasion. He is definitely funny. Jonesy is predigested hokum. LfTllLLER INSTITUTION INTI R N A T I O N A L E Migrate Southward if you must but first see the new PUNSILK SLIPPERS ty 3. (miller Surely you won't start South with out at least one pair of these smart, shaggy-surfaced, tea-time creations. In fact you'll doubtlessly want SEVERAL pairs — for they're adorable in the new powdered pastel tones ... in which you can be exclusive to your heart's complete content ! The Toga. A delightful Sandal of Grecian inspiration. White and pastel-toned. \Jsusio~m CjJ hoe Cyaloi 312 S. MICHIGAN AVENUE The Chicagoan 407 So. Dearborn street Chicago, Illinois Please enter a subscription for The Chicagoan as follows: ? i Year— $3.00 D 2 Years— $5.00 Name (Address) 28 TME CHICAGOAN SMART SHOP DIRECTORY KATHARINE WALKER SMITH Has irresistible resort clothes for you. Hats, frocks, coats, lingerie. 270 East Dearpath Lake Forest 704 Church Street Evanston GRACE TANC1LL 5117 Waterman Ave. ST. LOUIS Internationally famous MADE TO YOUR MEASURE JERSEY Dresses — Suits — Ensembles T^o w permanently on display ~ ~ 3 DIANA COURT „ „ 540 Michigan Avenue North F R A N C E S 1 o^ OF 1660 1 J >v CRACI0US East |\ " .^ DICNITY FOP C> THE MATRON 55th " x STREET ^ AND THE AT LI HYDE 1 1 A 1 F CHAR" *-*¦ ¦— L_ OF YOUTH PARK 1 1 FOR THE BOULEVARD YOUNGER SET c 0en n* ing FURS 108 N. State St. 220 Stewart Bldy. of distinction Suite 201 Pittsfield Building FLANUL FELT HATS For the smartly dressed man TARE OEST Randolph and V.buh •••CHICAGO FINE CLOTHES for MEN and BOYS SHOPS ABOUT TOWN Sun -Touched Again By THE CHICAGOENNE IT'S a merry romp and a refreshing one. Of course, it may mean that you march dizzily out of the shops smack on to the Panama Limited, even if you swore to renounce the south this year. The things are that beautiful. Whether you leave town or not you should have a look, to cheer the jaded spirit and pick up a few new bits to fill that depressing between-season gap. For mid-season purposes, north or south, there isn't anything quite so 1930-31 as the fur-trimmed chiffon af fairs. Chiffon dresses at Rena Hart- man's have bands of fur on their short sleeves and promise to be perfect little things for the north as well as great favorites in the south. The trend away from the monotone ensemble idea, which foresighted coutourieres started this fall, is getting more and more pro nounced. I saw some delightful con trasts introduced in costumes by Rena Hartman — a turquoise silk sports spec tator dress is touched up with a cop pery brown motif and completed by a short coat in the same brown. These little separate coats, coatlets and capes appear on everything. A closely print ed silk dress here, with a fetching lit tle peplum has a separate coat, of the same material. The terribly popular linen morning dresses are completed by some sort of scarf or jacket, and the irrepressible bolero bobs up bright and smiling on any number of spring suits. McAvoy shows a charming suit of this type in brilliant blue. This is in heavy silk for the south but should be grand in any fabric. The coat is a mere wisp of Eton jacket, tight sleeves finished off with a flip of a bow at each elbow. The blouse is a crisp embroid ered organdie with a little frill extend ing below the bolero and over the skirt top. It's all as fresh and springy as the first sprig of pussywillows in Wien- hoeber's window. An interesting, (and for most of us, a cheering) note is the release of the blouse from the stern tucked-in line of last year. Many besides the one in this suit extend to the hips or are loosely draped in flat tering lines over the top of the skirt. LIGHT woolens, as we said last issue, * are being pounced upon avidly for southern wear. McAvoy uses an airy material like very fine basket weave for several interesting frocks and suits. It is supple and light as silk, but has a nice upstanding, un- crushable quality about it too. In a bluish green it makes one of the best- looking spectator suits I have seen. The dress and short coat are tucked diagonally down one side, while the other half is plain, and the slenderis ing effect is enough to make you burst into song. Black and white touches in belt, scarf and buttons finish off the costume. Buttons, buttons — • everybody has buttons. Fat balls of them, flat metal disks, printed and plaided buttons to match the fabrics on which they are used. Yellow and black balls effective ly decorate a banana colored dress in McAvoy 's light wool, and give it a dashing, faintly militaristic swagger. All these designs indicate the increased importance of lovely sleeve detail, in tricate cuffs, tricky peplums, and all sorts of tucking, stitching and embroid ery. Certainly these yards and yards of fine handiwork promise a good year for the dressmaker and needleworker. Lovely touches of stitching appear on the simple but effective linen dresses that Mrs. Franklin sponsors for southern wear. They just plucked one from its New York box when I was in which ought to be tucked right away again in one of our smarter southern-bound trunks. Both the hat and dress were in deep grape red linen, the dress with a yoke of ivory linen and the wide brim of the hat touched with bands of the ivory. The short coat in the same linen has wide three- quarter sleeves and altogether it's about as graceful and feminine a piece as you'll meet anywhere. In a different feeling is the fetching Goupy suit at the Franklin shop, which sports a sleeveless vest-like affair over its three-quarter sleeved blouse. The fabric is a woodsy green wool and the vest is belted in bright red leather. It looks too chic and Carolinian for words. Another delightful frock if you are bound for Aiken or Pinehurst is a peasant-like dress in mixtures of red, green, and blue knitted fabric like soft homespun. The quaint square neck, the tiny THE CHICAGOAN 29 DRINK PURE WATER For Safety SOFT WATER For Benefit CHIPPEWA Natural Spring Water Because it is "The Purest and Softest Spring Water in the World" Bottled at the Springs Prompt Service Everywhere Plume Roosevelt 2920 Chippewa Spring Water Company of Chicago 1318 S. Canal Street fil to Take First i Choice The best cabins in each price- class are yours, if you make reservations now for next summer's European trip. No matter what your preferences you can secure exactly what you want on the royal EMPRESSES t h e speedy, modern Duchesses and other cabin liners sailing from Mon treal or Quebec. Why not look over cabin plans to day? Ask particularly about the new, fast Empress of Britain. In service next summer. Full information also available on Canadian Pacific steam ship service to Hawaii and the Orient. Write or phone E. A. KENNEY, Steamship General Agent, 71 E. Jackson Blvd., Chicago, III. Telephone Wabash 1904 Canadian S8f Pacific Carry Canadian Pacific Express Traveller, Cheques — Qood the World Over sleeves fringed at the edges, and the many-colored belt are all very different and amusing. Mrs. Franklin, too, has an array of those angora wool coats that will be worn for every purpose from morning till night, down south. They are long, three-quarter length, or hip-length, perfectly straight and belt ed and all fired smart. By the time this appears the Franklin pyjamas should be in the shop and from the advance drawings which I saw I have a feeling that they will be snapped up in no time, so tear over and get yours. The designs are among the best in a good pyjama season. ANOTHER shop that offers bright country frocks is the pleasant lit tle place of Elise Runyan in Hyde Park (she has one in Evanston too, by the way). Her boucle spectator and sports frocks appear in the loveliest pastel shades and she has some brilliant things in wool georgette and cotton prints — two of the most important of the season's fabrics. And you ought to see all the exciting new ideas that Leschin's are having about fabrics. There's a gay crocheted wool dress in a big loose design, just like grandma's old fascinator but younger looking than the New Year. The dress has short sleeves and with it is worn a sleeveless velveteen jacket in the solid color of the design. In green and white, or yaller and white. Leschin also uses narrow bands of linen lace on a jersey two-piece and the two really harmonize — this linen lace looking more like fine perforated leather and not fussy at all on the jersey. The chic plaid note is introduced splendidly on a silk spectator dress in off-white, by way of plaid necktie and ties at the cuffs. Their evening dresses are gor geous here — simple linen lace cut very subtly and tied at the high waist with a wide velvet belt; Chanel's lace dress with its very new sheathlike line to the knees where it suddenly billows softly, the sheath broken by a short peplum; and a wonderful embroidered white organdie over a brown satin slip. This note of brown is terribly fashionable and the dress with its wide sash of shiny brown ribbon finished with two huge brown patent leather flowers is a triumph. It has tiny sleeves and is perfect either for infor mal dinners or for tea. A huge, roughish straw hat in tones of yellow and brown is worn with it. EVEN MEET YOU AT THE TRAIN MANY of our old friends com ing to New York wire ahead to us and tell us which train they are taking. That gives us the pleasant opportunity of sending a porter who knows them to greet them at the train. Our porters are remarkably helpful individuals — at frairtside, ships' piers, or even at the Cus toms lines. Often they can lay their hands on that precious 'lower' that you always want at the last minute. Our friends like our location in the center of the city, our meals, our rooms, and our service. But they appreciate most of all the little extra things we try to do to make them feel at home and comfortable. Won't you give us the oppor tunity of numbering you among our friends next time you visit New York ? The ROOSEVELT MADISON AVENUE AT 45TH STREET Edward Clinton Fogg, Managing Director <P*> 30 THE CHICAGOAN And in the NEXT ISSUE WINTER GAIETIES By Warren Brown a sparkling commentary on the outdoor pastimes that engage the smart world Motors Moderne By Donald Plant a note on the new cars with eye solely to those items of style, grace and smartness that distinguish the correct model from the merely competent mechanism When "Whoopee" Was a War Cry By Wallace Rice the second article in this engaging sequence of documents begin ning in this number Issue Date — January 31 Newsstands — January 22 THE CINEMA ART GUILD Presents as Its Thirty-fourth Program "FREEDOM" THE ONLY CINEMA OF THE BIRTH OF REFORMATION DIRECTED BY HANS KYSER With the Assistance of Authoritative Historians Enacted by a Cast of the Foremost European Artists with a Portrayal of the Immortal MARTIN LUTHER By Eugen Klopfer "FREEDOM" Won the Unanimous Praise of the Press and Public in New York. "The Artistic Merits of This Film Are of the Highest Order!" — National Board of Review. VASSAR HOUSE RESTAURANT AFTERNOON TEA DANCING EVERY SATURDAY THE DANCE Black and Tan Blues By MARK TUKBYFILL TEA AND DANCING $1.00 For Reservations, Superior 6508 Diana Court, 540 N. Michigan PERFUME me, saxophones! I'm low, blue, blacky and'tan'blue. Gc ing down deep in Chicago. Down in the Grove — lower than Rousseau's jungle: it's more blac\ and more tan than Paul Gaugain. I'm coming, mega' phones — beat the drums! I'll travel. I'm awful sad, I'm getting intellectual. I want to see the sun rise, down on ThirtyFirst and State, where the gyps- ies have sna\e hips. I love it! Love it! Love it! I want my sweet man! Down at the Sunset, on Thirty-Fifth and Calumet, a black man overpowers a baby grand piano. He looks bigger than the baby grand. Ruben Brown comes out and struts. Hat held high, and cane spinning like a comet, his small body leans back on the air. He is the fastest strutter alive. He made a name for himself some years ago strutting to I'm Just Wild About Harry in Shuffle Along. Ruben Brown alone is worth a trip to the Sunset. But he is not all they have. There is Georgette Walker, known as "Red,11 who does dance-improvisations which reveal more art than some of the more advanced dance cults. If she has been able to resist the call of London, Nora Holt is still play ing hostess down at the club El Rado. Because she talks about the writers in London, and makes music at midnight and somewhat later, she is like a dark Muriel Draper. When she is not sing ing, Brown and McGraw stretch themselves into dance postures which the daring Balanchine might have re produced for the Diaghileff Ballet — if he hadn't first produced them for Diaghileff. At the Grand Terrace, the slender "York Brothers from New York," cut chic silhouettes with their long bodies. They are as sharp and sure as wire sculptures. Their pirouettes and ren' versees are almost Spanish, and their taps are as clear as castanets. The New Club Gloria, just off the Grove at thirty-first, is the heart and soul of the jungle. The place is small, dark, and cavernous. Brasses throb and blare, the drum beats, savage sounds reverberate against the walls, and bore into your solar plexus. The androgynous Gloria, like a black mountain, shakes with mirth, passion, and song. She clears the ring for the little brown girls whose frenzy is not only night work, but) their own per sonal, convulsive joy. Half obscured by smoke and low lights, Gloria cools off, catches her breath, and broods like a primitive idol with bulbous eyes. The orchestra blasts again, and the floor writhes with dancing guests. Suddenly Gloria is seized with "that certain feeling. " She shouts and waves arms through the smoke. She draws white furs around ebony shoulders and throat. She challenges and incites the tribe. "Whoops! Love it! Love it! Love it!" she cries. It is the maddest, and by entertain ers and entertained alike, the most loved den in the jungle. Bartering a Bride AMY LOWELL once wrote that II she could smell the stars. It takes a poet of almost equal versatil ity to be aware of the Civic Opera and the Stock Yards in the same breath. It was our distinguished vis itor, Mr. Ford Madox Ford, I believe, who boasted that he could, from where he sat, listen to the one and smell the other. Now from the Stock Yards, to the Civic Opera, to the circus is a long step. But the fact is, the Civic Opera, thanks to the ballet in the third act of The Bartered Bride is putting on a swell circus. You can sit through this without too much intimacy with the animals, without sawdust under foot, and without danger of falling through the seats. These omissions do not re move the essential circus flavor, and anybody who is not fun-shy should reserve a comfortable plush chair at the Opera House for the next showing of The Bartered Bride. This little circus spirit has been a welcome spirit during the holidays. It reappeared at the Opera on Christ mas night as vividly as it may be seen at the Art Institute in the canvasses of Toulous-Lautrec. The Ballet danced the circus with the same wit, satire, and charm that the celebrated Frenchman painted it. There were the clowns, the bare-back riders, the tight rope walker, the strong man, the tum blers, the snake charmer, and the afFec- TMECWICAGOAN 31 M EXICO AND Central America TOURS Short, inexpensive, ideal winter journeys with escort Eight charming excursions through Mexico of 20 days' duration; eight others through Mexico and Central America of 38 days' duration. Mex ico City, Pyramids, Orizaba, Gua dalajara, Nogales, San Antonio, New Orleans. Extensions to Central America from Mazatlan to Guate mala, Salvador, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, Panama Canal, Puerto Col ombia, Havana, with escort. Departures January 3rd and every two weeks thereafter. Write for booklet fully describing the tours, with exact rates from your city. A men can H,xpress Travel Department Chicago, 70 East Randolph St. Indianapolis, Ind., 259 So. Meridian St. Milwaukee, Wis., 457 East Water Street American Express Travelers Cheques Always Protect Tour Funds SII9UIS fringe of the theatre, shopping and business districts, uet in a distinctly residential neigh" borhood. IJou will find the Coronado a place for a day, a week or a month. Moderate Tariff. Four restaurants. Coffee Qrill. Ttlammq Shop. ISHAM JOllES and his Band. r\ 3&? Hotel Coronado SAINT LOUIS. MISSOURI tionate, clinging boa constrictor. Among those of the troop who for sook the symmetrical and serene atti tude of the classic ballet to cavort as comedians, and to cajole us with buf foonery were Harriet Lundgren as a spunky equestrian in a plummed hat, tiny Ruth Pryor in an abbreviated, pink ballet skirt, Julia Barashkova swaying seductively in Oriental veils. Edward Caton, Lee Foley, and Bentley Stone were also in effective evidence, and were amusingly costumed. Tum bling amidst the merriment, but dis guised beyond recognition, were Sven Larsen and Michael Arshansky; Misses Finholt, Parke, Runyon, Shott; Messrs Abbott, Cameron, and Strechneff. In the first and second acts of his Bartered Bride, Smetana has further exposed himself and the rest of us to the persuasions of the dance. But the dancers, in neither the "Polka," nor the "Furiant," succeeded in being very persuasive, for the reason that they did not reproduce the dances in Bohemian peasant style. Their movements lacked the perpendicular, staccato gaucherie of the true type. Instead, they described in pastel colors, a kind of good will rainbow beyond the footlights. But more than receiving a mere good will, they scored a positive hit with their circus. Lysistrata THOSE very dashing, and some times naughty, little drawings which enliven the surfaces of Greek vases and wine cups seem to dance right off their "Attic shape" and for three minutes to gyrate with "fair at titude1'1 on the stage of the Majestic theatre. Doris Humphrey and Charles Weidman have animated them with the glow of the kilns where they went for firing long ago. Miss Humphrey and Mr. Weidman not only know how to mold human bodies into interesting designs and pos tures while par terre, but they have found the secret of making the dancers preserve and project those designs sharply — even while lunging through mid air. Praise is due the some fifteen dancers who admirably realize the ideas. They make the composition stand out beautifully in spite of draw backs, namely that they have to dance too far down stage, almost on eye level with the spectators, so that the mob behind all but obscures the complex and moving form. The concoction of musical sounds by Leo Ornstein lends The Multi-Feature Hotel 1. LOCATION— On the shore of Lake Michigan facing East End Park . . quiet, restful. 2. CONVENIENCE — Nine minutes from the center of things by Illinois Central Electric (300 trains daily). Fourteen minutes by motor. 3. ROOMS— Six hundred of them and every one has an unobstructed view of Lake Michigan, outside exposure, tub and shower baths, and many other features. 4. SPORTS— Private skating rink, three tennis courts, horse shoe court, com pletely equipped children's play ground, and varied forms of indoor entertainments and amusements. CHICAGOBEACH HOTEL CHICAGO, ILL. 32 TI4E CHICAGOAN stimulating support to the dance. Despite racy transports on mattresses piled before the Acropolis, the dancing in the last three minutes of the two hours constitutes the real high point in this performance of Lysistrata. "Quite the best legs of the evening," came a voice from the next seat. Frank Parker Synthetic Songs SELECTING effective names for the synthetic arts of today, like christ ening sleeping cars for the Pullman Company, should furnish a full time job for an astute numerologist. (We nominate Yvonne Dupee, who has named more artists and things than anybody in Chicago.) A synthetic art, such as Frank Parker's, which draws upon the re sources of the dancer, the singer, the actor, the orator, the cinema producer, should certainly be given an expressive title. Mr. Parker modestly calls him self a diseur. By way of his com prehensive manipulation of many tech niques, on Sunday afternoon, Decem ber 28, at the Goodman theatre, Mr. Parker had the art world by the tail. His treatment was humane, and he simplified matters by calling ¦ his per formance a "Program of Acted Songs." He embodies his song in a plastique that is rich and eloquent. He is avow edly no practioner of bel canto, but he presents what many more ambitious singers cannot: a pleasing use of his voice, an intellectual awareness, and a balance and economy of gesture which distinguish the trained dancer. Mr. Parker's danced and acted songs are full of crisp and discerning com ment on manners past and present. From picturesque Old French profan ity, to St. Stephen in King Herod's Hall, to English suitors who "have house and land in Kent," to Viennese operetta, to "A Hollywood day, ac cording to the Cine-Photo Magazine," he dances and sings his way, his alert and modern-slanting mind doing good- humored justice to all. He sharpens his characterizations with a cerebral edge which assures their being keenly and vividly remembered. Ripples A RANGE of diminutive Catskills, peopled by full-sized midgets and cub bears, man and woman size "Guests" and "State Troopers" bent on reaching the heights of dance and song. These are the Ripples cast by the Stones at the Illinois. Fred Stone stumbles over the top, not by plane — he says he learned aviation from the sky down — but on hoofer's feet, aided by a couple of very dance-wise crutches. The smaller Stones, Paula and Dorothy, roll merrily down the spirit and jug haunted hill-sides, and around Dad who is boulder, more of an institution, and has gathered more moss than the growing Stones. Dorothy's beautiful blue eyes twinkle and dance as much as her feet. Every moment she is highly entertainer con scious. She knows how to pucker lips, close eyes, and how — suddenly- - to open both, with meaning. Cos tumed in Colonial style, her adagio waltz with Charles Collins (No, not Critic Charles Collins of the Trib.) is one of the most picturesque events of the entire show. Mary Read's Tiller Girls, with their "Autumn Ballet," convince the public that not only trees have limbs and leaves have stems. Was it not a maple leaf, stem up, falling in spiral motion to earth, which first presented the idea of the screw-propeller to man? After this golden brown whirlwind of girls one may be pardoned if the history of inventions seems vague. Should any body be interested in the genesis of the screw propeller, Maurice Maeterlinck, in his "The Intelligence of Flowers," offers some charming ideas. Yes, na ture is grand. Consider, in mid- win ter, the inspiration to be derived from an "Autmun Ballet." Button your overcoat, strike out for Ripples at the Illinois, catch a glimpse of animated leaves tilting their Tiller stems in arabesque — and note what novel ideas come to you. ARTISTS PABLO PICASSO : EXAMPLES of the work of this celebrated individual were to be seen hanging against the particularly appropriate walls of the Arts Club. Classically conceived, abstractly exe cuted were these studies in pencil and tempera; of heads, ballet girls and horses. A definitely stimulating con tribution to the advanced thought of the city, for which a one time reporter on the Chicago Daily J<[ews, John Becker, now a modern New York gal lery owner, was responsible. (Becker Gallery, a fine place to see the best in the Moderns.) MARGARET SARGENT : AN impression of this positively out standing feminine painter, is that she is holding her own and exceeding the quality of the whole country full of painters. She's stupendous. For a woman painter, she has great original force and inventiveness (not always found among the ladies). She towers above her contemporaries, Cassatt and Laurencin who weary one in the course of time. Infinitely original in her tech nique, possessed of a very good color sense, she paints a series of mas terpieces as easily as did Van Gogh or Gaugin. STUDIO GALLERY: A SHOWING of present day Illi nois painters. Very good, a dis tinct step in advance of most other groups of a supposedly similar order. Very much worth seeing. WALT KUHN : EXHIBITS in New York. One of the twelve successful modern painters in America. This exhibit re ceives more comment than any other in that furious, hectic, collossal city of the east coast. If the reader has occasion to venture forth beyond the confines of Chicago, it is (humbly) suggested that this show be witnessed by him or her. VSTK JOHN MARIN: HOLDS forth in superbly excellent form at the Gallery of Alfred Steiglitz on Madison Avenue, New York. Paintings in water color which are eloquent in manner and modern in feeling. This painter will go down in history. — PHILIP NESBITT. NOTE: It has occurred to us that modesty may prevent the author of this column from claiming the credit due to him for his own exhibition of water colors and carving at the Increase Robinson Galleries. These are some of the jollicst things in the exhibit. Phil Nesbitt paints with an easy grace and humor which he does not allow to become slap-dash. There is weight and rhythm to all his depictions of the native Haitian and the humor never overwhelms the essential dignity of these charming people, whose spirit he has caught so admirably. As for the two small carvings of Polynesian heads — they are of rare beauty. Do You Keep Pace With the Theater? Do You Follow the Stars 7. Do you keep pace with the new plays ? The season s successes ? The revivals f 'The Musical Comedies ? The Operettas f 'The Revues ? 'The Tragi-Comedies ? 'The Melodramas ? The Comedies ? Do you follow the rising stars f The stars at zenith ? The stars of long standing ? The Comics and Straight Men ? The Mad Young Lovers ? The Premieres Danscuscs ? 'The Romantic Pair ? The 'Porch Singers ? The Old Parties ? IT'S an easy thing to keep pace with the theater by following the stars. Merely follow the stars on The Chicagoan's Current Entertainment page from top to bottom, or, if you will, from bottom to top. Select the production you wish to see and then make use of The Chicagoan's Thea ter Ticket Service by means of the con venient coupon below. fllli CHICAGOAN, J lical cr Ticket Service The CHICAGOAN 407 So. Dearborn Street Kindly enter my order for theater tickets as follows: (Clay) - (Second Choice) (Number of Seals) (Date) (Second choice of date) (Name) (Address) | (Tel.No.). .(Enclosed) $.. <S ® D3 "u1 02 0 B GD IF 0 ® CD n Everyone knows that sunshine mel lows—that's why TOASTING includes the use of the Ultra Violet Ray. LUCKY STRIKE -the finest cigarette you ever smoked, made of the finest tobaccos —the Cream of the Crop -THEN -"IT'S TOASTED." Everyone knows that heat purifies and so TOASTING removes harmful irritants that cause throat irritation and coughing. No wonder 20,679 physicians have stated LUCKIES to be less irritating! Says AUGUST HECKSCHER Noted Philanthropist Chairman of the Heckscher Founda tion for Children; President Child Welfare Committee of America Director: Empire Trust Company Crucible Steel Company "The most laudable service that any industry can render is the attempt to benefit its patrons. That is the cardinal principle of philanthropy. And so, interested as I always am in modern developments, I consider that your use of the Ultra Violet Ray in your Toasting of LUCKY STRIKE is a distinct contribution of which the public will whole-heartedly ap' prove." ** *f It's toasted Your Throat Protection — against irritation — against cough Consistent with its policy of laying the facts before the public, The American Tobacco Company has invited Mr. August Heckscher to review the reports of "the distinguished men who have witnessed LUCKY STRIKE'S famous Toasting Process. The statement of Mr. Heckscher appears on this page. © 1930, The American Tobacco Co., Mfrs.