«tte CUICAGOAN October, 1931 Price 50 Cents G/ugg estio ns MARTHA WEATHERED SHOPS DESIGNED FOR THE YOUNG MODERN a sunroom with personality! By personality, we mean that it has a cer tain individuality . . . for instance, the fur niture is black lacquer, covered in white fabricoid. The draperies have a different hang about them. Even the rug is new. You can see this room assembled in the Furniture Section on the 8th floor ... in the Drapery Section on the 9th floor ... in the Rug Section on the 3rd floor. FURNITURE • Every piece is black lacquer. The sofa, with pillow back, is $145. The chairs covered in fabricoid, priced each $57. Small tables, low priced, too. DRAPERIES • A fine sheer rayon voile, with a two-inch horizontal stripe. Sunfast and tubfast. In blue, rose, gold, green and rust combinations. The yard, $2.50 RUG • A modern new rug, made at Bekescaba, Hungary, in a solid flat stitch. Distinctive patterns. Made on a hand loom by the women in com munity weaving. Size 6 x 9 is $47.50 MARSHALL FIELD & COMPANY October, 193] STAGE SALT WATER — Playhouse, 416 S. Michigan. Harrison 2300. Fiske O'Hara and Taylor Holmes, old favorites here, in a Frank Craven comedy that gives the usual amount of laughs that Frank Craven comedies give. Curtain, 8:30 and 2:30. Evenings, $3.00. Matinees, $2.00. THE GREEK PASTURES— Illinois, 6? E. Jackson. Harrison 6510. Marc Connelly's beautiful epic of the Old Testament told in the naive and imaginative manner of an old Negro and acted by an all- Negro cast. Curtain, 8:30 and 2:30. Evenings, $3.00. Matinees, $2.50. UNEXPECTED HUSBAHD— Adelphi, 11 N. Clark. Randolph 4466. Rowdy, Rabelaisian com edy, but honest and artless about it all. Well-cast and ably per formed. Curtain, 8:30 and 2:30. Evenings, $3.00. Matinees, $2.00. TOU SAID IT— Grand Opera House, 119 N. Clark. Central 8240. Lou Holts in whiteface saying very funny things in Jewish (and British); Lyda Roberti, Polish and platinum blonde with an entirely new accent and some good tunes made of a college musical comedy with a time-worn formula into a first straight eve ning. Curtain, 8:30 and 2:30. Evenings, $3.00; Saturday and Sunday, $3.50. Matinees, $2.50. CRAZT QUILT— Apollo, 74 W. Randolph. Central 8240. Billy Rose's revue with Ted Healy, Fanny Brice and Phil Baker. If you can think of any better trio you're welcome to it. Limited en gagement. Curtain, 8:30 and 2:30. Evenings, $3.00; Saturday, $3.50. Saturday matinee, $2.00. PRIVATE LIVES— Erlanger, 127 N. Clark. State 2460. Edith Taliaferro and Donald Brian in Noel Coward's delightful farce- comedy about a husband and wife, divorced, who meet on their second honeymoons. Curtain, 8:30 and 2:30. Evenings, $3.00. Matinees, $2.00. THE VENETIAN— Harris, 170 N. Dearborn. Central 8240. Maurice Browne's production, Ellen Van Volkenburg's direction, the orig inal London cast and the first offering in this country. Curtain, 8:30 and 2:30. Evenings, $3.00. Matinees, $2.00. THE THIRD LITTLE SHOW— Great Northern, 26 W. Jackson. Central 8240. Beatrice Lillie and Ernest Truex in an intimate, gen teel, fast, pleasant revue containing some of the best satirical sketches that have been offered here in ages. Curtain, 8:30 and 2:30. Eve nings, $3.00; Saturday, $2.50. Matinees, $2.50. GIRL CRAZT — Garrick, 64 W. Washington. Central 8240. Bios- 67 O N T E N T S 1 SATURDAY AFTERNOON, by Burnham C. Curtis 13 EDITORIAL COMMENT 15 CHICAGO ANA, Conducted by Donald Plant 16 SMARTCHAT, by Nat Karson 17 IMMOBILIZED, by Gaba 18 ILLUSTRATION, by Sandor 19 FIRE ON THE HEARTH, by Dorothy Aldis 22 SAMUEL PUTNAM, by Rudolph Weisenborn 23 CHICAGO AND ME, by Samuel Putnam 24 CRITICISM, by Burgreen 25 THE SUICIDE RACKET, by Milton S. Mayer 27 FAMOUS ATHLETES YOU READ 28 CHICAGO IMPRESSIONS, by Philip Nesbitt 29 WHY THEY DANCE, by Ben Bernie 30 KAY STROZZI — ACTRESS 31 THE THEATRE, by William C. Boyden 32 CHORISTERS OF DE LA WD 33 THE MUSICAL SEASON, by Robert Pollak 34 CARLOS DRAKE, CHICAGO PLAYWRIGHT, by Durand Smith 35 HOW MODERN ART CAME TO TOWN, by C. J. Bulliet 38 PERSONAL INTELLIGENCE, by Helen Young 39 THE FOURTH PRESBYTERIAN 40 BRIDES OF THE SUMMERTIME 44 THE NATIONAL AMATEUR 46 PRIZE-WINNING CHICAGOANS 47 THE BOOKS OF SEPTEMBER, by Susan Wilbur 48 CELLULOID TEMPERAMENT, by William R. Weaver 49 LA GARBO, a Karson mask 50 CALIFORNIA ENTICEMENTS TO TRAVEL 51 ALONG THE FLOWERY COAST, by Lucia Lewis 52 NATIVE INDIAN DANCES 53 BLACK TIGHTS, by Mark Turbyfill 54 FASHIONS, by Curtis 55 AUTUMNAL WRAPS AND ACCESSORIES, by The Chicagoenne 57 THE GAME OF MAKEUP, by Marcia Vaughn 60 YOUR HAT AND STICK, by Herbert Hunter 72 THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE HOME, by Janet Spitzer Chicaooan photograph.? by Henry C. Jordan THE CHICAGOAN — William R. Weaver, Editor; E. S. Clifford, General Manager — is published monthly by The Chicagoan Publishing Company, 407 South Dearborn street, Chicago, 111. M. C. Kite, Advertising Manager. New York Office, 1790 Broadway. Los Angeles Office, Pacific States Life Bldg. Pacific Coast Office, Simpson-Reilly, Union Oil Bldg., Los Angeles; Russ Bldg., San Francisco. Subscription $5.00 annually; single copy 50c. Vol XII, No. 3. October, 1931. Copyright, 1931. Entered as second class matter August 19, 1931, at the Post Office at Chicago, 111., under the act of March 3, 1879. som Seeley, Bernard Granville, Benny Rubin and George Gersh win's tunes in a musical comedy with a dude ranch setting. Curtain, $8:30 and 2:30. Evenings, $3.00. Saturday, $3.50. Matinees, $2.50. ONCE IN A LIFETIME — Selwyn, 180 N. Dearborn. Central 3404. The movie industry put on the pan and given a delicious roasting. Un doubtedly the funniest show that will be in town this season. Cur tain, 8:30 and 2:30. Evenings, $3.00. Thursday and Saturday matinees, $2.00. Opening October 18. CIVIC SHAKESPEARE SOCIETY — Majestic, 22 W. Monroe. Cen tral 8240. Fritz; Lieber and his company, including such celebrities as Helen Menken, William Faver- sham, Tyrone Power, Pedro de Cordoba, and Whitford Kane, offer The Merchant of Venice, Julius Caesar and Hamlet as the three plays which will comprise the repertory for this season. Curtain, 8:30 and 2:30. Evenings and Saturday mat., $2:50. Wednesday mat., $2.00. Opening October 19. AGAINST THE WIND— Black- stone, 60 E. 7th St. Harrison 6609. Mrs. Fiske in a comedy by Carlos Drake. Curtain time and prices will be announced later. Opening October 26. ART ARTHUR ACKERMAN & SON— 408 S. Michigan. Wabash 1771. Recent acquisitions, paintings, fine prints, antique furniture and cu rios. Special exhibitions of Row- landson drawings and silhouettes from the Desmond Coke collection. AHDERSOH GALLERIES — 536 S. Michigan. Harrison 1045. Exhi bitions of paintings by old and modern masters. BROWN-ROBERTSON CO. — 302 Palmer House Shops, Franklin 0790. Original etchings, aqua tints, color wood cuts, color repro ductions and educational art pub lications. M. KHOEDLER & CO.— 622 S. Michigan. Harrison 0994. Works by Helen West Heller. Paintings, water colors and etchings. S. H. MORI— 638 S. Michigan. Har rison 1274. Exhibitions from the orient of rare historic objects of art; paintings, color prints, bro cades, lamps, bronzes, potteries, porcelains and jades. M. O'BRIEN &1 SON— 673 N. Michigan. Superior 0000. On October 15, an exhibition of etch ings, drawings and water colors of dogs by Marguerite Kirmse, Diana Thorne, Marjorie Stempel, George Baer and Morgan Steinmetz. INCREASE ROBINSON— 540 N. Michigan. Delaware 3745. Ex hibition of drawings, etchings and water colors. ALBERT ROULLIER GALLERIES — 4 1 4 S . Michigan . Harrison 3171. Seasonal exhibitions of fine prints and drawings. Miscellaneous lith ographs by miscellaneous artists. SOUTH SHORE ART SCHOOL— 1542 E. 57th St. Dorchester 4643. Exhibitions of the work of Clay Kelly art students, also much of Mr. Kelly's own work. GERRIT VANDERHOOGT— 410 S. Michigan. Harrison 293 5. Ex hibition of contemporary etchings. }. W. YOUNG GALLERIES— 424 S. Michigan. Harrison 6197. Ex hibition of American paintings, bronzes, etchings and early Amer ican prints. TABLES Luncheon — Dinner — Later LA LOUISIAM.E — 1341 S. Michi gan. Michigan 1837. The fine old art of Creole, French and Southern catering is practiced here under the 4 The Chicagoan jnuiiyiiiiiiyiiiiiiyiiiiiiyimiiymiiiyiiuiiyiiiiiiyiiiiiiyiiiiiyiiiiiiy iyiiiiiiyiiiniiiiyiiiiiiyiiiiiiyiiiiiiyiiiiiiyiiiiiiyiiiiiiyiiiiiiyiiiiuyiiiiiiyiiiiiiyiiiiii| Lescnin 318 south mictiigan Ooupy s two = piecc ensemble of militaire blue/ white ana black woolen with black Iapin jacket / -p / L ou.r=vous biAck felt turban by Acjncs 1 En nates ^iiimniiiiiiniiiiiniiiiiiniiauiniii ¦iiHiiiiiiMimiiMmiiiHimiiWiiBiiiiiMiiiiiiHiiiiiifliiiniWmiiifliiiiiiHiiiiiiPiiii iiiniiiHiniiiiiinmiiiniiiiiiniiiiiinmiiiniiiiiiP October, 1931 SANDOR'S TENTH GRATUITOUS ESCUTCHEON IS TENDERED TO COLONEL ROBERT R. MC CORMICK. watchful eye of Gaston of the Alciatore family of New Orleans restaurateurs. JIM IRELAHD'S OYSTER HOUSE — 632 N. Clark. Delaware 2020. An astonishing selection of deli cacies from the deep; wonderfully prepared. JULIEH'S — 1009 Rush. Delaware 0040. Heaping portions of every thing and a broad board and Mama Julien's equally broad smile. Better telephone for reservations. LE PETIT GOURMET — 615 N, Michigan. Superior 1184. A luncheon and dinner place well at tended by good people and some thing of a show place. It, too, is perhaps more feminine than mascu line. MAILLARD'S — 308 S. Michigan. Harrison 1060. Pleasant surround ings and people and a moderately snooty luncheon, tea and dinner place. They'll be glad to check your dog, too. M. Moulin is in charge. GRAYLING'S — 410 N. Michigan. Whitehall 7600. Catering to the feminine taste, but there's a grill for men in the rear. Well patron ized by nice people. And right at the Bridge. L'AIGLOH — 22 E. Ontario. Dela ware 1909. French and Creole dishes prepared by a competent kitchen. There are private dining rooms and an. altogether pleasant orchestra. M. Teddy Majerus over sees. 40 E. OAK — 21st floor. Whitehall 6040. Roof dining, high in alti tude, but very reasonable in prices, and a delightful view of the lake and the beacons. The newest din ing room of importance in town and well worth your inspection. J. M. Davenport is in charge. ROCOCO HOUSE— 161 E. Ohio. Delaware 3688. Swedish menu and unstinted hors d'oeuvres and an amazing variety of dishes. Works of Scandinavian craftsmen are also on view. Mrs. Palm is manager. ALLEGRETTI'S— 228 S. Michigan, 11 E. Adams, Pittsfield Bldg. Con venient eating places where excel lent foods may be had, especially for luncheon or tea. HARDING'S COLONIAL ROOM — 21 S. Wabash. State 0841. Fa mous for its old fashioned Ameri can dishes, including corned beef and cabbage, and for service, effi ciency and a variety of foodstuffs. ST. HUBERT'S OLD EHGLISH GRILL — 316 Federal. Webster 0770. Anglo-Saxon atmosphere, waiters in scarlet jackets and all of the noble foods of old England for those who would dine well. CHEZ LOUIS— 120 E. Pearson. Delaware 0860. French and Ameri can catering. M. Louis Steffen has with him his old Opera Club and Ciro's staff and chefs. SHEPARD TEA ROOM— 616 S. Michigan. Webster 3163. A neat little tea room with good foods at reasonable prices, tucked in be tween the Blackstone and Congress Hotels, in the arcade of the Ar cade Building. RED STAR INN— 1528 N. Clark. Delaware 3942. Abounding with , noble Teutonic foodstuffs and the quiet of an old German Inn. For three decades Papa Gallauer, who will attend you, has kept his estab lishment what it is today. RICKETT'S— 2727 N. Clark. Diver- sey 2322. The home of the straw berry waffle. And here, too, the late-at-nighters find just the right club sandwich or huge steak. HUTLER'S— 20 S. Michigan, 310 N. Michigan, Palmolive Building. For luncheon, tea or dinner and no matter where you are, if you are around Town at all, you aren't too far from one of the three. MAISONETTE RUSSE— 2800 Sheridan Road. Lakeview 10554. Russian-European catering and a concert string trio during dinner hours. VASSAR HOUSE— Diana Court, 540 N. Michigan. Superior 6508. Here you may have luncheon, tea, dinner and even breakfast in a most modern setting. There's the lovely Diana Court, too. HENRICI'S— 71 W. Randolph. Dearborn 1800. Always a sub stantial menu and, as you know, when better coffee is made there'll still be no orchestral din at Henrici's. CASA DE ALEX— 58 E. Delaware. Superior 9697. That old Spanish atmosphere, service and catering. It is, all in all, rather unique and your out-of-town guests ought to enjoy dining there. NINE HUNDRED— 900 N. Michi gan. Delaware 1187. A very knowing place; for one thing, there's the cuisine, and for another, if that be necessary, the at mosphere. EITEL'S — Northwestern Station. Truly a blessing in a neighborhood where good restaurants are few and far between. A place you'll want to remember if you ever go over that way. KAU'S— 127 S. Wells. Dearborn 4028. Sound, hearty German dishes appealing to those who would be well-fed. The luncheon place of La Salle Street notables who are as meticulous about dining as they are about investing. zJXCorning — Noon — Nigh t HOTEL SHERMAN — Clark at Ran dolph. Franklin 2100. Ben Bernie and his boys are back at College Inn for the season, and everyone is pretty glad about that. HOTEL LA SALLE — LaSalle at Madison. Franklin 0700. Husk O'Hare and his band, another group of old favorites here, are back at the Blue Fountain Room. The Three Doctors, Pratt, Sher man and Rudolph, appear in the main dining room between 6 and 8 p. m. COHGRESS HOTEL— Michigan at Congress. Harrison 3800. The Balloon Room is now open with Bernie Cummins and his orchestra playing there. In the Pompeiian Room, dinner, $1.50. PALMER HOUSE— State at Mon roe. Randolph 7500. In the Vic torian Room, dinner, $1.50. In the Empire Room, dinner, $2.00. In the Chicago Room, dinner, $1.00. DRAKE HOTEL — Lake Shore Drive at Michigan. Superior 2200. Tweet Hogan and his band play in the main dining room. A la carte service. Weekly cover charge, $1.25; Saturday, $2.50. Table d'hote dinner in the Italian Room, $1.50. STEVENS HOTEL— 730 S. Mich igan. Wabash 4400. George Devron and his orchestra playing in the main dining room. Dinner, $1.50. No cover charge. BLACKSTONE HOTEL — 656 S. Michigan. Harrison 4300. The polite and formal Blackstone cater ing are traditional. Margraff directs the String Quintette and Otto Staack is maitre. EDGEWATER BEACH HOTEL— 5349 Sheridan Road. Longbeach 6000. Paul Whiteman and his or chestra. Dinners, $2.00 and $2.50 plus $0.50 cover charge; after din ner guests, $1.25. Saturdays, din ner, $2.50 plus $1.25 cover charge; after dinner guests, $2.00. CHICAGO BEACH HOTEL— 1660 Hyde Park Blvd. Hyde Park 4000. A pleasant place with an ample menu and alert service. Convenient for the southside diners-out, espe cially. Dinners, $1.50 and $2.00. Gifford is in charge. HOTEL WINDERMERE — E. 56th St. at Hyde Park Blvd. Fairfax 6000. Fronting on Jackson Park and famous throughout the years as a delightful place to dine. Two dining rooms; no dancing. Din ners, $2.00 and $1.50. Blessman will greet you. BISMARCK HOTEL— 171 W. Ran dolph. Central 0123. Art Kassel and his "Kassels in the Air" or chestra are now playing nightly in the Randolph Room from 6 to 8:30. Dinners, $1.50 and $2.00. No cover charge. HOTEL BELMONT — 3156 Sheri dan Road. Bittersweet 2100. A Paris trained chef whose master hand prepares delicious dinners which arc properly served by alert, quiet waiters in true Continental fashion. Eugene Bouillet is maitre. LAKE SHORE DRIVE HOTEL— 181 Lake Shore Drive. Superior 8500. One of those knowing places where service and cuisine are impeccable. Dinner, $2.50; no dancing. Langsdorff is maitre. SENECA HOTEL— 200 E. Chestnut. Superior 2380. The service and the a la carte menu in the Cafe are hard to match, no matter how meticulous the dinner may be. Table d'hote dinner, $1.50. KNICKERBOCKER HOTEL — 163 E. Walton. Superior 4264. One of the outstanding private smaller ballrooms of the Town and smaller private party rooms, too. The cuisine is exceptional. In the main dining room, dinner, $1.50; in the Coffee Shop, $1.00. SHORELAND HOTEL— 5454 South Shore Drive. Plaza 1000. The splendid Shoreland cuisine and hospitality are a delight to south- side diners-out. Dinner, $2.00 'Dusk Till Dawn THE RUBAIYAT— 657 St. Clair. Delaware 8862. Eddie South and his international orchestra, direct from a three year tour, are drawing the crowds to one of the Town's newest clubs. CASA GRAHADA — 6800 Cottage Grove. Dorchester 0074. Henry Halstead and his west coast orches tra play. No cover charge. Billy Leather is head waiter. CLUB AMBASSADEUR — 226 E. Ontario. Delaware 0930. A clever floor show of eight acts and Jimmy Noone and his band. VANITY FAIR — Broadway at Grace. Buckingham 3254. Floor show, four every evening, and Leo Wolf and his orchestra. No cover charge. MACK'S CLUB — 12 E. Pearson. Whitehall 6667. Keith Beecher and his Melody Makers and a new edi tion of the International Revue. Cover charge, $1.00. Harry Mc- Kelvey is host. TERRACE GARDENS — Morrison Hotel, 79 W. Madison. Franklin 9600. Don Pedro and his band play and there's the famous Mor rison kitchen to prepare your food. Dinners, $1.50 and $2.00. No cover charge. CLUB ALABAM — 747 Rush. Dela ware 0808. Chinese and South ern menus and Dave Unell and his band and a clever revue. Cover charge, $1.00. BLACKHAWK — 139 N. Wabash. Dearborn 6262. Earl Burtnett and his orchestra play. Service is alert and Blackhawk cuisine has always been known as perfect. GRAND TERRACE — 395 5 South Parkway. Douglas 3600. Earl Hines, at the piano, and his band are back again. Ed Fox is in charge. DELLS WINTER GARDEN— 517 Diversey. Irving Aaronson and his Commanders play and the same old Dempster Road Dells spirit prevails. MIRALAGO — No Man's Land, be tween Wilmette and Kenilworth. Paul Specht directs a large or chestra and Mildred Baily sings blues at Jim Davis' smart playspot. SHOW BOAT— 205 N. Clark. Dear born 6153. Steppin Fetchit, well- known Negro movie actor, is master of ceremonies. The colored floor show and orchestra are something new in town. 6 The Chicagoan CsVour tnU PACKARD ai EIGHT 1885 (F. O. B. DETROIT) To Owners of Older Packards: If you own a four- or five-year-old Packard, here is your oppor tunity to replace it at a great saving with a new Packard embodying modern refinements and improvements. These Eighth Series Packards, offered at reductions up to $865.00 from their original list prices, are brand new and in every way contemporary with all current models of other makes. They arc surpassed only by the new Continental Series Packard cars announced late in June. These new list prices are the lowest at ¦which new Packards have ever been offered for sale! Come and see these cars. Compare them point by point with the latest models of other makes as to horsepower, wheelbase, roominess and such features as shatterproof glass, four-speed transmission and automatic chassis lubrica tion. The chance to buy a new Packard at a saving up to $865.00 may never come again! Let us show you the Packard Eight that now lists at $1885 at the factory. Let us appraise your present car. If it is of average value it will more than make the down payment — and you can own a new Packard with no obligation other than remitting a moderate monthly check. Just tele phone and we will promptly send a representative to your home or office. To Owners of Lower-Priced Cars: Many of you have longed to own a Packard. Here is your opportunity. We still have a few of these brand new Eighth Series Packards, available now at a price only slightly higher than you have been paying for ordinary transportation. Before you buy any car be sure to see these big, luxurious Packards which were, until only ninety days ago, the current model, and which are still as current today as any competitive make. Ride in them. Drive them yourself. The Eighth Series Packard Eight Five-Passenger Sedan pictured above is a car of recognized beauty, comfort and distinction. With wheel- base of 126x/2 inches it is exceptionally large and roomy. If you are driving a lower-priced auto mobile of similar size and power, here is your chance to replace it with a truly long-lived car of greater luxury and prestige — a new Packard Eight at a saving up to $865.00. K 1735 E. Railroad Ave., Evanston H E M N WHO OWN PACKARD MOTOR CAR CO. of Chicago 2 3 5 7 SO MICHIGAN AVENUE 925 Linden Ave., Hubbard Woods ONE 3156 Sheridan Road October, 1931 7 SILVER Jl,xpressive of all that is truly worth-while^ for the ANNIVERSARY, WEDDING and OCCASIONAL GIFTS Water Pitcher, $110. Cocktail Shaker, $60. Pair of Candlesticks, pair, $30. Meat Dish, 16 inches, Florenz, $200. Hors D'Oeuvre Serving Tray, $110. Lou, Bowl with Mesh (Table Center which matches Candlesticks), $35. Double Vegetable Dish, Florenz, $340. Gravy Bowl with Blue Glass Lining and On- slow Ladle, $20. Melted Butter Dish, $20. Associated ivitJi BLACK, STARR & FROST- GORHAM, Inc. Fiftk Avenue, New York Associated Stores In, EVANSTON PALM BEACH ATLANTA and SOUTHAMPTON T-H-Xv purchase ol Oliver today aliords a lasting gratilication in tlie possession ol beautilul nome necessities bought aovan- tageously. Opaulding-Crorham prices are consistently low and are adjusted to present market conditions. Opauloing-VTornam; Inc. Jewelers ana Silversmiths .M-ichigan Avenue at van Buren Street, Chicago The Chicagoan 66 Is this th 7 our mirror as s Q>can your face closely for 3 telltale places where youth departs from a woman's face. "Jfien let the science of Dorothy Gray help you to prevent or correct facial aging. . . TTKE other women who have solved this eternal problem, you, too, can delay that fateful, disillusioning moment whenyourmirrorrevealsthe cruel marks of time, however faint. • To fade prematurely is utterly un necessary now. No woman need sur render weakly to this threat to happi ness. If you are still in your thirties, preventive treatments are necessary. If you are in your forties, corrective treatments are your only recourse. • In each case Dorothy Gray has contributed her pioneer work. She was first to localize the 3 telltale signs of age on a woman's face. Likewise, she was first to develop scientific preparations and basic treatments. This was years ago. Today these Dorothy Gray preparations, long proven effective, have at tained new standards of efficiency, due to a permanent staff of twenty research chemists and consulting dermatologists. • In years past, Dorothy Gray treatments were confined to her salons. Today, thanks to sys tematized methods and explicit directions, you can give yourself these identical treatments in your own boudoir. • In doing so, you are assured that these treat ments are based on years of success. Thousands of grateful women owe renewed youth to Dorothy Gray. So you do not experiment. You avoid ordinary, unscientific preparations and unbalanced treatments. • Pick up your mirror now. See -where Time is beginning to reveal your age. • Then write today for the Dorothy Gray book. It explains clearly each step to take. A little study tells you exactly which Dorothy Gray preparations to buy foryour needed treatments. Her preparations are for sale at all fine shops. • • CHICAGO r Dorothy Gray Salons are located in New York, Paris, Chicago, San Francisco and Los Angeles. ]oro 900 N. MICHIGAN AVE. FOR LINES AND WRINKLES: Cleansing Cream, Orange Flower Skin Lotion, Special Mix ture, Special Toning Oil, Eye Muscle Paste, Patter, "— m (or As- Astringent Cr tringent Loti< ¦iiy). 2 TOIl A DOUBLE CHIN: Cleansing Cream, Texture Lotion, Suppling Cream, Patter, Astringent Cream (or Astringent Lotion if skin is oily). Chin Strap. tringent Cream ( gent Lotion if sk oily). V. In addition to Dorothy Gray treatment preparations, there is a complete ensemble of cosmetics — superfine powders, rouges, tip-slicks in today's smart shades. October, 1931 9 ¦ ¦ J_ I S 1 1 the Beautiful PITTSFIELD BUILDING Selected shops of the most excl usive type where real quality and value are assured CHICAGO'S LEADING SHOP AND PROFESSIONAL BUILDING &*W*M* WABASH AND WASHINGTON STREETS • OPPOSITE MARSHALL F I E L D ' S • 10 The Chicagoan SHOPS IN THE PITTSFIELD BUILDING SWEET MEMORIES? And how dear to our hearts is Allegretti's ... the accept ed matter of good taste for half a century. Today, whenever discrimi nating folk foregather for pleasurable divertissement, Allegretti's still reigns su preme as the matchless choice of connoisseurs. Allegretti's in the Pittsfield Building is managed by Miss Wallo — an expert at selecting and packing gift boxes. THE DECK 228 S. MICHIGAN AVE. THE GROTTO 11 E. ADAMS ST. Consistently Particular with your Flower Orders LOOP ^ FLOWER SHOF Cor. Washington and Wabash Randolph 2788 Hand Made Hats Styled (or your individual type Harriette B. Frank Suite 420 Pittsfield Bldg. Telephone Dearborn 6746 \J UR Jewelry is of latest design and highest quality. Prices to attract the attention of the value conscious, dis criminating buyer. ostigane 55 E. WASHINGTON ST. Suite 439 Randolph 3935-3930 Pittsfield Tavern A delightful rendezvous for Luncheon, Tea and Dinner Tasty, wholesome food Entrance off Main Lobby in PITTSFIELD BUILDING irelre&dCF For particular Women Suite 711 Pittsfield Building 55 E. Washington St. Dearborn 6500 Suite 101 Blackstone Hotel Webster 7236 Cards and Games Office Supplies BOOKS Fountain Pens Gifts for All Occasions Stationery Periodicals NEW YORK BRENTANO'S Booksellers to the World 63 East Washington SL, pittsfield Building Chicago PHONE RANDOLPH 4580 CHICAGO CLEVELAND PHILADELPHIA WASHINGTON PITTSBURGH PARIS October, 1931 11 SUgdison &ut9y^dsted The Studio Rooms of GOOD HOUSEKEEPING MAGAZINE are an exclusive feature at this Store LARGEST F U R N I BIEDERMEIER LIVING ROOM • This beautifully appointed Biedermeier Living Room, the October creation of Good Housekeeping Studio, is now on display at this store. The twin Chairs of solid mahogany are covered in striped antique satin in rose, green and yellow and have down cushions (each, $98). The Duncan Phyfe Sofa of solid mahogany is covered in green moire and has a down cushion ($169). The Occasional Table by the wall (16x26x28 in. high, $25) and the Coffee Table (22x22x19 in. high, $19) are also mahogany. THIS STUDIO ROOM from the current Good Housekeeping Magazine is displayed on the 2nd floor— JOHN M. SMYTH STORE FREE TAXI SERVICE from any point in the Loop to this Store. Or from any doivntoivn R. R. Station. FREE AUTO PARKING • Another view of this charming, live able room includes a Biedermeier Desk of mahogany (1 7x36x5 1 in. high, $1 19) and a Desk Chair in a mahogany finish with an upholstered back and seat ($36). • A third group in the Living .Room consists of a solid mahogany Armchair in black glazed chintz with a down cushion ($49) and a mahogany Table (30x30x28 in. high, THE LOWEST FU R N I T U R E PR I C E S IN 14 YEARS OPEN EVERY MONDAY AND SATURDAY UNTIL 10 P. M. 12 The Chicagoan CI4ICAGOAN /jCTOBER is our favorite month. Baseball ends and football V-/ begins, a circumstance in any month's favor. Horse racing goes on, although at Hawthorne, and if one rides one may, even to hounds. The sun resumes a he-man's schedule and golf links are cool for any desired number of holes. Streets are clean of paja- maed bathers, sails are whiter on an Autumn lake, country roads are uncrowded and far places are brought near. An October day disposes of itself. There are places to go, it is pleasant to go to them, pleasant to stay or to return. People who have been away are back, people who haven't aren't going, and by some magic both groups are composed exclusively of the right people. Human companionship may be had or had done with conveniently. An October evening is no less perfect. Theatres, for all the dire forebodings it is fashionable to hold for them, are open and filled. Talk of impending and uncut opera buzzes between the acts. Con- certs are beginning. Clubs are being operated again on a paying basis and restaurants have donned fresh linen. Debuts, weddings, smart parties of this kind and that splash pell mell, one atop the other. Life is rich. We came downtown this morning filled with all this. We felt like smiling at everyone we met. We did. One was a newsboy, who took advantage of our spell to sell us a newspaper. On the first page we read that Mayor Cermak has restored to the police department a vice war which, it appears, he has been personally conducting. On the second page we are informed that scrip is forcing school teachers into the clutches of loan sharks. The third page tells us that a physician has been shot in his office by a robber, that a judge has freed one Red Barker for the third time because he got his gun out of his pocket before police laid hands on him, that dry agents have raided nine places and that Al Capone attended the Northwestern-Nebraska game but came too late to get a very good seat. We didn't read further, and as soon as we finish filling this page with words — most of which will undoubtedly be bitter, we warn you — we're going out and try to recapture that October fever germ and keep it. Depression Follies IN view of the circumstances noted, probably we might as well write at this time the depression editorial that we've felt coming on for days. Our perfectly frank opinion is that the only thing more depressing than the depression is a depression editorial. It advertises the thing it seeks to suppress. It prescribes a tonic for the public and then defeats its chances of being taken by tell ing the patient what it's made up of. Our depression editorial, which is at least as futile as any other and quite likely more so, will not make that mistake, whatever others it may, because our depression editorial is not addressed to the public. Our depression editorial isn't really an editorial at all. It's merely a collection of absurd ideas that have come to us in all sorts of places and at wholly unexpected moments, usually during solemn conversations about tremendously vital subjects, the market, the gold standard, all those things. Don't you get them, too? The first of these absurd ideas has to do with banking, about ¦which we know less, even, than the bankers seem to. As we get it, -which we probably don't, a number of banks have failed and others may because they have permitted their depositors to with draw their money on the main floor and take it downstairs to the safe deposit department and put it under lock and key, producing a Rube Goldberg kind of situation wherein the bank is wrecked by the success of its own safe deposit service. Our no doubt equally Rube Goldberg suggestion is that the safe deposit boxes be done away with and the depositors thus kept from putting their money into them. Our second depression idea, born of seeing an obvious banker rebuft an equally apparent mendicant near the Art Institute, is for this certain banker to employ this certain mendicant to act as a bodyguard standing between him and other mendicants and for all other bankers to do likewise, the idea to be expanded immediately to embrace a second unemployed person to be employed by the state auditor's department to watch both banker and bodyguard, thence to include an undetermined number of unemployed persons to be employed by the state auditor and his staff to act as body guards for them and still another undetermined number of unem ployed persons to be employed by the bankers' association to watch the auditor's staff and bodyguards . . . well, it could go on and on and on like that. But our best idea, we think, has nothing to do with banks or banking or bankers or safe deposit boxes or auditors or any of those fundamental factors of our advanced civilization about which we shouldn't jest and we beg your pardon. This one concerns only those two unimportant offshoots of said civilization, the dry agent and the bootlegger. As we get it, and again we plead a prized innocence of these matters, the dry agent is paid a salary for finding, arresting, trying, convicting and fining or imprisoning the bootlegger. This involves quite a bit of trouble, consumes a great deal of time, interferes with a normal pursuit of happiness and is not especially pleasant to either dry agent or bootlegger. It would be much simpler, it seems to us, for the dry agent to place a small bounty on bootleggers, such as is placed on certain destructive rodents in various constructive communities, and pay that amount promptly for each bootlegger run to ground. Each unemployed person, at least each one capable of obtaining seventy- five cents by hook or, we almost said crook, could go then to the nearest bootlegger, buy a drink, report the bootlegger to the dry agent and collect his bounty. If this were as much as a dollar and a half he could go forth, find two bootleggers, repeat his first operation in duplicate and double his money. It would be no time at all until all of the unemployed were happily engaged in honest toil with a nice profit coming in and the long, cheerful prospect of a ripe and restful old age. We had a couple of other ideas, one about restricting the sale of stocks to lots of ten thousand shares or more so that only the wealthy could buy them, who wouldn't let them drop, and another about raising instead of lowering the prices of cotton and other commodities for which there is said to be no sale — this on the theory that if only a few are to be sold they might as well be sold dearly — but we're pretty sick of this depression thing and we're going to chuck it. Reportorial Maturity NO doubt we shouldn't mention it, since mention of trends usually stops them in their tracks, but we believe we sense the beginning of the end of the bad news about Chicago crime. Rather, what we believe we sense the beginning of is a long delayed era of mature treatment of crime news by the local press, which of course feeds the foreign press its Chicago. It's all one, isn't it? To illustrate, we read a news story the other day which said that Pat Roche, who had looked high and low for Al Capone — well, high anyway — sat a few seats from him at a baseball game and appeared not to see him. It was a good story, not a fiery indict ment of Mr. Roche, nor an obeisance to Mr. Capone. It was the kind of a report that an adult citizen weary of the whole fanciful business would write, perhaps, in a letter to another adult citizen equally disinterested. It was much the same kind of story as the one appearing in the same paper a few days later saying that the chief executive, interviewed at Hawthorne, had put off until tomor row morning the naming of a new commissioner of policeL In neither story was vitriol flung nor torches lighted as has been until now the uniform practice of Chicago journalists, -with what results far too many know too well. Our point, which we seem to have mislaid since opening the subject, was that the Town's reportorial representatives — something of the same general tone may be noted in other newspapers, too — seem to have permitted the crime news to sink into something approaching its proper perspective. We think the world will be no less grateful than Chicago. P E A R E I E P O W E E L 90W/V5 c/< made in our D r e s s m a king Wo r k rooms I resenting the new silhouette that has so greatly changed the mode, in a distinctive collection or models. . . elegant in their conception. . . that are decidedly not commonpla [ace. $69 ,nj $89 Heretofore made at $1£5 and upwards PEARLI E POWELL 3 2 o MICHIGAN AVENUE NORTH 14 The Chicagoan Chicagoana An Eye and Ear to the Din and Whim of the Town Conducted by Donald Plant THE time is not far off when Chicagoans will look upon such skyscrapers as the Tribune Tower and the Wrigley Build ing as being beautiful examples of an anti quated type of architecture. For as surely as the Empress Eugenie hat set a new style in women's millinery, Mr. Charles L. Morgan's twenty-three story glass office building will mark a new development in architecture for Chicago factories and busi ness buildings. Chicago's first glass skyscraper will have a frontage of 300 feet and a depth of 105 feet, and is scheduled for completion in 1933, at a cost of $7,000,000. By that date Chicagoans will be familiar with glass buildings, as industrial projects for the construction of glass houses, such as they have in Europe and New York, are now under way in Chicago. The first glass houses will be built in the suburbs at a moderate cost. Occupants, in spite of old proverbs, can now throw stones, as the glass is unbreakable. They also need not belong to the nude cult as the glass cannot be seen through. Altogether, the old substance, glass, comes to the average person in a new form. There are now solid glass bricks, tiles and hollow wall blocks. The tile is offered for use in the construc tion of light section walls, partitions, floors, roof lights and windows. Hollow block is used for hollow walls and partitions and solid brick for walls of solid glass. Enough vacuum is obtained through glass to accomplish some heat and sound insulation and to eliminate condensation problems. Dr. E. Vernon Hill, past president of the American Society of Heating and Ventilating Engineers, in a recent discussion of the novel glass wall style of building, said that his general re-action was favorable. There are several reasons for the interest in the new type of building. One of the main reasons is the increasing importance placed upon lighting by architects. The translucence of the glass walls brightens otherwise poorly lighted areas. As the glass allows the penetration of the ultra violet rays of the sun, those who live in glass houses will be able to take sun baths in their own homes all year round. Instead of sending Chicagoans to Florida in the winter, this will be a means of bringing Florida to Chicago. It is said that glass houses first became popular in Germany where the forests have been greatly demolished and the reserve of lumber is low. Glass was invented as a sub stitute for wood and was so successful that it attained popularity in itself. Much agitation in Chicago has already arisen among the carpenters and woodworkers who are afraid that the glass houses will harm their business. As interior woodwork will always be used, the fear is considered ground less. "Hat, Hat!" A YOUNG lady was eating luncheon at Field's the other day, and happened to notice a woman at a nearby table wearing a hat exactly like her own. As she was quite interested, she stared a bit more than she in tended, and was suddenly conscious of a dis tinctly hostile look from the owner of the hat. So she put on her sweetest, most deprecatory smile, and pointed to her head, thinking that the obvious similarity in head gear would explain. But evidently not. The cold look was replaced by one of utter in comprehension . The young lady, now considerably embar rassed and with a slightly desperate air, pointed to her head again, smiling and bobbing her head, and as the woman's look changed again to one of slight horror, whispered loud ly, "Hat, hat." The woman left, then, and very shortly af ter the young lady did too, considerably dis turbed by the incident and the interested looks and whispers she had noticed from the spec tators of the little scene. She thought people were really very stupid. As she got in the elevator she happened to see herself in the glass, and realized, with emo tions that can only be imagined, that she did not have on the hat she thought she had, but one which was quite, quite different. Charity IN town there exists, among other economic surprises of the time, a class that cannot afford the necessities of life, but which has the luxuries. This strata of society is main tained by the Chicago Flower, Fruit and Plant Guild. Working in cooperation with the Guild are thirty-seven suburban garden clubs represent ing hundreds of suburbanites who answer the first call of spring with a hoe and a spade. Excluding their sunburns and mosquito bites, the results of their struggles with nature they give to members of the Guild who, in turn, distribute the plants, flowers, and fruit among some of Chicago's poor. Four stations serve as headquarters and dis tributing centers for the work. They are the Illinois Central Station, the La Salle Street Station, the Aurora Elgin Station and the Union Station. On the Northshore trains, in season, it is not unusual to see the early morning commu ter making vain attempts to read his paper over the height of boxes of home grown gladioli which gingerly lie on his lap. These he de posits at the desk of the station which is the headquarters for the suburb from which he happens to come. At the headquarters he sees dozens of boxes such as he has brought. They are trimmed with ribbon and fancy paper and have all the glamour of a Valentine box on the way to a masquerade ball. The contents are as tempting as the cover ings, for here is charity done up with a frill. There are lovely baskets of avocado pears which have been tenderly wheedled from not too stubborn gardens. There are boxes of phlox, delphinium, veronicas, zinnias, marigolds, cal endulas, scabiosa, cosmos and salpiglossis. During the fall months there are jams and jellies, pickled dainties, and canned fruit as well as fall flowers and plants. All of these contributions are sent to twenty- six organized Chicago charities for whose bene fit members of the Guild work, such associations as Hull House and Billings Hospi tal. The distribution from the station is made possible by trucks which were donated by D. F. Kelley of the Fair. No Riders IF you've been wondering what the "NO RIDERS" signs on newspaper delivery trucks' windshields are all about here's the answer. They are there just as constant re minders to the public and to the truck drivers that no one, except employees of the circula tion departments, is supposed to ride on the wagons. The trucks are well-driven and go fast, as you've probably noticed, and people are apt to signal for rides. Newsboys like to ride the trucks, too, and sometimes friends of the driv ers'. And the drivers are apt to be forgetful of the rules at times and take on extra riders. The insurance companies for the various pa pers, therefore, have requested that these "NO RIDERS" signs be carried on the trucks, so that nobody will be forgetful, because acci dents will happen. AT the recent opening of the newly re modeled Hub store Henry C. Lytton, a young man of eighty-five, officiated by placing behind a bronze plaque for the edification of the Chicagoans of the year 2031 his predic tions of what they are going to be doing. The predictions involve practically the arri val of the millennium. Chicago will be released from the great smoke evil (this will get the Tribune vote) allowing the asthetes of the age to cut loose and make the world a highly deco rative place where color will be king, and so forth. The city itself, according to the predictions, will be divided into four regions, namely, shopping, offices, homes and manufacturing. The present Loop will be the shopping region and will be a gigantic combine of structures some hundred stories high with street levels at every ten floors, the whole to be artificially lighted and ventilated. This fantastic city will be roofed over. Upon the roof the air trans portation vehicles of that day will descend while the folks drop in to buy their pork and beans or toothpicks or what have you. This will be surrounded by the region of of fices where the daily transactions will be bal anced. In the homes region he predicts that October, 193 1 15 "AH YES, EMILY, WE'RE JUST A COUPLE OF GYPSIES." individual family homes of glass and steel will be provided, all highly decorative. The manu facturing region will be set far out from the rest of the city and here highly specialized hands will operate the delicate and sensitive mechanisms which will perform startling deeds, turning the raw materials of the world into the necessities of daily life. 1 he new Hub is new in as much as the whole place has been re arranged and remodeled. The self-service show cases are on the main floor, surrounding the pillars. They are rather neat. You ought to take a look at them. The Hub seems to be out for the working man's dollar, for it has made its bargain base ment a rather inviting place and, apparently, expecting hordes of customers, has doubled the width of the staircase going down. Cuisine Creole CREOLE cooking seems to be interesting a lot of people of late, so we requested an interview with an expert on the subject to find out a few definite things about it. M. Gas ton Alciatore, local restaurateur and member of the famous New Orleans Alciatore family of restaurateurs, was the expert to whom we were advised to go. La bonne cuisine Creole, M. Alciatore told us, contrary to many opinions, is not really practiced in any restaurants. There is no such thing as Creole cooking except in the homes of the old French and Spanish families where it originated. Its popularity and exploitation by restaurateurs comes, in many cases, from the inexpensiveness of the style. The lowly kidney bean, is used extensively. It is called beccasse Creole, because the wealthy eat beccasines or snipes which are a great deli cacy, and the poor eat the beans prepared as only they can prepare them. Rice, also, in pro portion is the Creole's best friend, whereas potatoes are seldom found on the family table. But the greatness of the Creole's cooking comes from his selection of the cheapest cuts of beef which he prepares so that the whole thing tastes like something that a bunch of kings had ordered. The Creole makes cooking an art by his stuffings, too. Green peppers, egg plant, arti chokes all go into stuffings and his masterpiece is a turkey dressing of Louisiana oysters. Per haps the most famous Creole dish is gumbo, a thick soup made of okra and a dozen other ingredients. But just because real Creole cooking is done only in Creole homes, don't think for a min ute that a close second to it can't be had in the few famous old dining places that are left, because it can. <^fore Signs THE madame of a bridge-playing young married couple had been trying for a week and several sessions a peculiar system de veloped by herself of failing to take out trumps. No matter what conditions prevailed at the time, she just wouldn't take out trumps first, and because of the system she failed more often than not to make her bids. Her hus band, and her partner, got pretty tired of it. It was usually unorthodox and almost always got her into trouble. After too many unsuccessful evenings of the game the husband came home early one after noon when he knew his wife would be out. He had had printed a dozen or more large signs about eight inches deep by twenty inches wide which read "CLEAN UP YOUR TRUMPS FIRST." These he tacked in con spicuous spots around the house. Then he left to arrive home later, at his regular time. When he returned the signs had been taken down and nothing at all was said about them. Several days later he came in from an after noon's golf. His wife wasn't at home, but the whole house was plastered with signs, the same size as those he had used, which read, "CLEAN UP YOUR DAMNED CLOSET FIRST." They're still very happy, though. 'Bound Volumes THE head of the household was on his va cation and the whole family was planning to leave on a motor trip, so there was a lot of cash around in pocket books and pockets. There had also been several daytime robberies in the neighborhood. The trip had to be postponed for a few days. One of those days the family went out to play golf; it was maid's day off, too. They didn't like to leave all that cash around, and didn't want to take it all with them, and didn't want to bank it, what with the probable necessity of a quick withdrawal for a quick departure. They all looked around the house for places to conceal the currency. The son thought of the many, many bound volumes of The TS&i- tional Geographic magazine on the several shelves in the back library. (It seems that the whole family liked that magazine a lot and had always had the copies bound each year since they'd been subscribers, and they had been tak ing it since 1907, so there were lots of vol umes.) One of the volumes was pulled out and between its pages was placed all of the cash on hand. The volume was put back in its place on the shelf. After all, they thought, what burglar would ever think of taking a volume of l<latvonal Geographic magazines off the shelf and thumbing its pages. Then they went out to play golf. Two days later they decided to start on their trip. The male parent went to the back library to get the cash out of the book. But for the life of him he couldn't remember the volume in which he had deposited the money. 16 The Chicagoan He couldn't remember the volume number, the year, the general location on the shelf, nor, for that matter, the exact shelf. And none of the others had been with him at the time of the hiding. There wasn't anything else for the family to do but get to work on the books. Two of them worked from left to right on two shelves and the other two worked from right to left. Af ter a good half hour had elapsed the son struck the right volume, it was the one containing the first few copies of the magazine for the year 1917. Local Authors IT happens that just now several books by Chicagoans are fresh in the 'bookstores. The Thomas S. Rockwell Company has brought out La\e Front, by Ruth Russell who grew up in Hyde Park and was graduated from the University of Chicago. La\e Front is a panoramic novel of Chicago from 1835 to 1931. The several generations of the family O'Mara are carried through those years. It is a history of Chicago as well; the early settle ment, the Civil War years, the Railway Strike of 1894, the McCormick Reaper Works trouble, the Haymarket Square Riot. Another Rockwell book just published is OV Rum River (a grand title), by Col. Ira L. Reeves, formerly Prohibition Administrator of the Fourth Enforcement District (New Jer sey) and now a local Crusader official. It's the inside story of the way Prohibition works, an unbiased, discerning and dispassionate study of the situation, and it's full of astonishing facts and drama. Colonel Reeves (who contributed to the August issue of The Chicagoan) has written a book of unique and timely appeal, a com plete history and analysis of Prohibition, telling the story as every American citizen should know it. And Philip Nesbitt (whose humorous art work has been in many Chicagoans of the past and is again between its covers, in this issue) has a new book for children called Trum Peter's Tea Party. In it the usual animals associated with jungle life are present, but are drawn in a most unusual manner. The hippo has a superb twinkle in his eye and the croco diles know the worst of life. Children will covet it and their parents ought to seize it. Hair Cut WE'VE recently heard another family story, too, or maybe a dog story if you want to class it as that. Two sons of a family, in their teens, own a very handsome Wire Haired Fox Terrier. They are very proud of her and always give her the best of care, proper grooming and all that. Both of the boys are golfers and during the week of the National Amateur at Beverly they spent most of their time following various matches out there. They were busy evenings, too, that week, and always seemed to have something else to do mornings besides groom the Wire. Consequently the Wire didn't get her daily brushing and combing and her shed ding was noticeable on the carpets. Toward the end of the week the father de cided to take a hand and although he wasn't in the least a hand at dog-grooming, he got out all the equipment and started to work on the Wire. It was a lot of fun and there were several kinds of stripping combs and such im plements. He got pretty enthusiastic about it and did far too thorough a job and a rather batched one, too. When the sons got home that evening they saw the accomplishment of their energetic par ent. The poor Wire really looked like the devil. She was stripped perfectly clean, about as clean as a rough-coated dog could be stripped. Her forelegs and beard and whisk ers were plucked very close. She looked for all the world like a smooth-coated fox terrier, something that a Wire should never look like, our new dog editor tells us. The father was very proud of his job and thought it was the real McCoy, but the sons weren't much pleased. In fact they were pretty angry about it. They knew the new coat wouldn't grow in before cold weather and they didn't know when the whiskers, beard and hair on the forelegs would ever grow in. Later that evening when their parent was taking his customary doze, the sons seized their opportunity and also their parent's forelock which they cut, with a quick snip of the scis sors, close to his scalp. He awoke and dis covered what had happened and then it was his turn to get mad, which he did. Charity Football HERE'S some real dope for the Carnegie Foundation to incorporate in the next re port on the overemphasis of football and the evils of professional coaches and big stadiums. It should interest them to know, as it did us, that the man who for the last three years has humbled the mighty Yale at a princely salary and been inspired by the deep throated roar of the undergraduate elite of Cambridge, has come to Highland Park and is exerting all his power toward whipping the local team into shape- — gratus. Arnold Horween, Harvard's ex-coach, who with a couple of former All- American football stars, is raising thousands of dollars for charity this fall. As much as $100 a box has already been offered to see the games and because of the keen interest society is showing, the Flashes expect to make thousands of dollars. The games scheduled against Lake Forest and Evanston will naturally bring forth crowds. Twenty-Fifth Year THE Chicago Sunday Evening Club has recently started its twenty-fifth season. The opening of the season of this remarkable organization is always an important event to the entire Middle West, not only to those who attend the meetings, but, also, to the many radio listeners in all parts of the country. The club was organized in 1907 with the purpose of maintaining a service of Christian inspiration and fellowship in the business center of Chicago and of promoting the moral and religious welfare of the city. 'IF KEATS WERE ALIVE TODAY, MRS. TRAVERS, DOROTHY PARKER WOULD JUST STARVE. October, 1931 m 'David? Oh Ralph, What an Ideal" 18 The Chicagoan Fire on the Hearth A Short Story in the Spirit of the Season By Dorothy A l d i s author op Everything and Anything, Here, There and Everywhere, Janes Father, Squiggles, Murder in a Hay Stack and otiu:r works IT was Saturday afternoon and Ralph and Emily Seymour were finishing their coffee after lunch. The room in which they sat was a combination dining room and living room with a screen at one end to conceal the table ... a long high room with big uncur tained French windows going straight up to the ceiling. Through the windows pressed an exuberantly blue autumn sky and the dull brown and red of oak trees with an occasional splash of yellow. And — far down — (for they were perched on top of a ravine) — Lake Michigan roared and turned over on itself, blue as the sky. "Oh, let's go out on the terrace, Ralph; it's too perfect." "Warm enough without a coat?" "Sure." Carefully carrying his coffee (the little spoon rattled chinkily against the cup) Ralph opened one of the windows, and they stepped outside and settled themselves in two low ly ing dachshund-looking chairs made out of pine. "Well I know he bores you, dear," Ralph said continuing the conversation they had been having over their lunch; "but I don't see what we can do about it." Emily squinted at him through the sun. Brown as a berry, her blue eyes were all the bluer for her color. "Of course you don't. You'd only see what we could do about it if he bored you." Throwing his head back, Ralph laughed. "Oh come, my dear." He was wiggling the foot that rested on his right knee and now, watching it, he burst out laughing again. "Come!" " 'Come' — ; -what do you mean 'come'? You know it's true." "Not absolutely." Ralph's grey eyes fast ened on her amusedly. "He bores me quite a bit as a matter of fact; I just don't let it get under my hide the way you do. Besides you know you liked him at first. You encouraged him to come; we both did. And so, as he's a perfectly decent soul, I don't like to hurt his feelings by snubbing him now." "Oh his feelings!" Emily had lit a cigarette and she blew David's feelings out with the smoke. "Also — and you've said it yourself — he's very intelligent." "Of course he's intelligent — look out for your cup; you're about to push it off!" Ralph removed the cup from the fat arm of his chair and, contorting himself, reached down behind himself and put it on the grass. "What's be ing intelligent got to do with it?" Emily went on: "Haven't you learned that an intelligent bore is by far the deadliest kind?" Straightening up Ralph lit a cigarette and grinned at her. "But why get in such a stew about it?" Cigarette cocked out of his mouth, he folded his hands on his stomach and balanced himself on the back legs of his chair, still grinning. "Why? Oh Ralph — pooh! Because he won't leave us alone. Now you listen to me." Emi ly's index finger emphasized her grievances as she enumerated them (Ralph thought this was funny too; he was enjoying himself). "He calls on Saturday" — down sliced the finger, "and I tell Mary to say we're not in; he calls on Sunday and we're really not in; then he calls on 'Wednesday" — (this is too much for the finger; it describes an indignant curve) and asks us to go to the movies and ) say we can't go; then he calls. . ." Emily, fin ger, everything was arrested; — a bell was ring ing somewhere inside the house; "There — I bet you anything . . . !" Mary appeared with one sleeve rolled up from washing dishes. "Mr. Norton would like to speak to you on the telephone, Mrs. Seymour," she said. "See? What did I say?" Ralph let loose his guffaw, rolling his head around in an abandon of glee. "All right for you, young man — " Emily leaped out of her chair and had him by the ear; "you just march yourself right in and deal with David yourself if you think it's so funny. Look out for your cup." Ralph, weak with laughter, unhinged him self like a long jack knife. He started towards the window. "What are you going to say to him? I wouldn't trust you," Emily called suddenly after his shaking shoulders. And she turned and trotted behind him. The telephone room was cool and dark after the blaze of light. Ralph took up the receiver. "Hello. Oh hel-LO, David. Me, I'm fine, thank you. Well I'm just about to venture on a little golf. Yes, Emily's here. Sure — just a minute. ..." Emily was livid. "I'm not going to speak to him." Ralph's shoulders resumed their shaking. He beckoned with one hand putting the other over the mouthpiece. "Come on, he's waiting." "Ralph, this isn't funny " Ralph continued his beckoning. His face was red; there were actual tears in his eyes. Emily, poised like some kind of fierce little animal, suddenly swooped down and took the telephone from him. "Ugh, how I dislike you," she said. And then: "Yes — oh hello, David. Flourishing, thank you. And how are you? Tea? Well yes, I think tea could be managed. Sure, come along. Oh about five. Fine. Goodbye." Hangings the receiver back on its hook she sat and glared at her husband. "Well, why did you let him come?" he asked a little uneasily for all his mirth. "Because you harried me about his feelings. Because you know how I get paralyzed over the telephone. Oh - Gawd - oh - hell!" Feet straight out in front of her, hair on end, she looked like a small baleful child. ' I *HEY were out on the terrace again. -*- Emily, partially soothed, was cutting out paper dolls for her youngest daughter. Ralph, his legs a-swing over the arm of the chair, was picking away at the insides of his pipe, glanc ing now and again at his wife's chrysanthe mum head. "Listen, darling," the thought had been growing on him while he fussed with his pipe, "did David ever try to make love to you? Is that the trouble?" "David? Oh Ralph, what an idea." Up flashed her head. "What an idea!" "Well I thought that maybe that's what was eating you." "Oh Ralph — oh Dear!" Her laugh ended in a high little yelp of joy. "Just consider what you're saying, darling: David!" Ralph nodded slowly, his eyes on her suf fused rosy face while he searched in all his pockets for a match. "Well I see that I'm wrong." He found the match, and holding his pipe in the breathless way men do, struck it. Cupping his hands he bent his head and made drawing noises. . . . "Emily!" He came up, pipe still unlit. "Yes, my pretty, my treasure — I'm three feet away from you at most and my hearing's exceptionally good." "But I have an idea about David. How to get rid of him!" Quickly he struck another match and bent his head again; this time he got it. "Listen: it's wonderful, it's machiave- lian . . . the way it works is that it seems to be his fault — " "His fault?" "Yes. Oh it's so wo-wo-WONderful!" Ralph raised his feet and passed them rapidly in front of one another like a fly. "It's so . . . ;" he catapulted out of his chair and started pacing up and down the terrace . . . "Listen!" Emily put down her paper dolls and tried to hang the scissors on her nose. "This is it. He's coming for tea this after noon. I'm out playing golf. You light the fire, you draw the curtains — oh no, there are no curtains . . . ; well anyway, you light the fire. Oh yes, and you'd better change into a tea gown . . . there you have the setting." "The setting?" Emily made a monocle out of her scissors, "the setting, my deah sah?" "No, now, Emily, pay attention. You in your tea gown pour the tea, your white fingers moving, etc." Ralph did the white fingers. "The fire light falls on your hair," Ralph did October, 1931 19 OH COME, EMILY, THERE S NO NEED YOUR WORKING SO HARD; I LL SHOW YOU A NICE SHORT CUT." the fire light falling — ; "Oh yes, and better lock the children in the nursery." He came to a breathless halt in front of her. "And then my dear, when he's full of tea . . . . " Emily, whose incredulous mocking face had been slowly changing to that of a woman with a vision, shouted: "I lead him on!" She clapped her hands; the scissors somersaulted, and coming down, struck straight up in the grass. "I lead him on. And his New England conscience . . . " "Exactly. At making love to his friend's wife . . . and you of course must be so horrified — " "Incensed! Oh Ralph, it's perfect. Oh dear, do you suppose I can do it? You're right, he'd flee from us as from the plague; we'd never, never have to see him again. But you see that part of me's so rusty, being a virtuous wife and all. If only we belonged to a faster mar ried set." She considered this sadly, her hands on her knees. "Perhaps if I gave him cock tails ..." Ralph wasn't listening. "The green tea gown, you know, with the sleeves that fall back, and a touch — just a touch of that new perfume of yours — what is its name . . . ? Divorcons ..." L^MILY was powdering her nose when Mary ' knocked at the door to say that Mr. Nor ton had come. "Be right down, Mary." Downstairs David was playing with Sheba. Sheba was new, a cocker spaniel — white with black spots. Emily hadn't wanted another dog but the first time Sheba'd rolled her eyes at her (such humble affectionate whites to them) and wriggled herself into a circle of affection ate joy, she'd succumbed. One of her chief charms was how fierce she could be at a spool of thread or a leaf. "Grrr-RAH." David, his long bony frame stretched out on the floor, tried to make her be fierce at his dangling watch, but the puppy only chewed his coat sleeve wickedly. "Grrr-RAH! Hello, Emily." Emily, floating in in her tea gown, extended both hands. "So sorry to have kept you waiting, but suddenly laundresses cropped up and had to be dealt with. You know." "But you didn't keep me waiting," strug gling to his feet, "I just came." He only took one of her hands; in fact only one finger. This he waggled and dropped. Emily sat on the sofa in front of the tea table and David, after a few more passes at Sheba with his foot, settled himself in a straight little chair. "W^eli, how are you?" He thought about it. "Fine. I've been working pretty hard." That was one of the most irritating things about David — his tempo was different from other people's. You'd ask him something innocous — what kind of a day was it out, or had he enjoyed playing tennis, or how was he; and by the time he got round to answering you you'd forgotten completely what the ques tion had been. "Have you been working on your history of the causes of the world war?" asked Emily, rolling it out a bit. "Yes. I just got hold of some new material and that means a lot of revising." "Dear me, so you've discovered that some body entirely different started it? I thought it was all so settled." "Well not entirely; you see ..." Emily patted the sofa on which she was sit ting. "Sit here," she said, "you're roasting over there; I can see a slowly spreading par boiled look." 13 avid got up obediently. In doing so he knocked over a small table on which were cigarettes in a china box, three ash trays — one with ashes in it, two of Ralph's pipes, several little boxes of matches and a bowl of roses. "Sorry." He stooped down to fix things, picking up the objects and putting them back on the table, dabbing anxiously at the puddle of water with his handkerchief. "Never mind, I like you awkward — it's so male. Here comes Mary with the tea anyway; she'll do the rest. No, she'll take care of the roses — come, sit down. How have your tea? Or there could be cocktails if you'd rather?" "No, tea please. Two lumps and lemon." Sheba, agitated by the table tipping, came over and placed her nose on David's shoe. "You know in this new material I was talk ing about, I came across some facts about the Bosnians ..." "The Bosnians?" Reaching across for the cake Emily pressed against his arm. "Cake?" He thought about it. "No." He went back to thinking about the Bosnians: "Yes. Instead of the Serbian aris tocracy being at the bottom of the arch duke's trouble, it's quite possible that the pure Bos nian peasantry were the real villains ..." "No!" Slowly: "Yes. It appears that they thought they could get away with murder in the literal sense. There was a gentleman named Stonan- davitch who, with his friend, cooked up a little scheme ..." "Oh David, must we talk about the Bosnians?" David, sitting up very straight, continued stirring his tea. "Why not?" Long pause. "Anything against them?" "Very little." She lit a cigarette. "What's the trouble — tired?" He peered at her sideways. "N-no. Cookie?" "No, thanks." "No I'm not tired; it's just ..." 20 The Chicagoan "Just what?" "Oh I don't know." She smiled a welt- schmerz smile and, raising her arms, let her sleeves fall back so one trailed slowly over David's knee. "Why are you flirting with me, Emily?" Emily blinked. "That," she said, "was un expected." Crossing her legs she laughed up in his face, "most unexpected." David leaned over to pull the ruff on Sheba's neck. "I sometimes am," he said, "quite unex pected." "Never before." "No?" "No." "All right." Emily, remembering her role, patted his shoulder. "Do you mind being flirted with, David?" "Not at all. Why should I?" "You look as though you minded." "Do I?" "Yes, you — look tight lipped." "Come, Emily, there's no need your working so hard; I'll show you a nice short cut." And being very careful not to step on Sheba he moved over and, lifting her chin with his thumb, kissed her on the mouth — a hard, quick kiss. "See?" Emily stood up. "What's the matter?" "Matter?" She stared at him amazed. "Yes, you liked it; I felt you liking it. Sit down." "You're outrageous. Please go right straight home." — "Go, — GO!" "You know you'd be sorry if I did," he was smiling up at her "Sit down." And reach ing out a long arm he pulled her down beside him. "Now more tea, please. Cloves in it, aren't there? Yes, I thought so. It's delicious." Emily poured him out another cup of tea. Slowly she dropped two lumps of sugar in and then, lifting a slice of lemon with the tongs, slid that in too. "Your tea." Ruefully and intimately she smiled at him. David began to sip it, his brown eyes darkly on her. "Nice girl." "Oh ... oh but, David, NO!" "Wellllllllll . . . "; they both burst out laughing, "Nice to ME!" "David, what's come over you? You're sud denly so ... " "Yes? Wfiat?" His smile was mocking. "Well attractive." They laughed again. "I'll tell you; it always makes people more attractive to get what they want and I've been wanting to kiss you for a long, long time. And in just another minute now . . . ," putting his saucer down. "Mmm-MMM." Emily, shaking her head, was up again. She poked the fire with savage little pokes and moving quickly over to the table on the other side of the room she opened a leather box from which she extracted a cigar ette. "Mmm-MMM." She lit it. David watching her. Walking back to the fireplace with gray smoke spiralling over her head she hooked one elbow on the mantelpiece and stood and smiled at him. "No?" "No." David, smiling too, strolled slowly over. "Still no?" "Still no." Very gently he bent over; removing the cigarette from between her lips he threw it in the fire. She turned her head aside, but with the same slow gentleness he turned it back again and, putting his arms around her, drew her up to him. T^AGERLY: "Well, darling, how was it?" -¦— ' Ralph had just closed the door on David; they could hear him starting up his car. "Sit in that chair." "Why?" "Sit in that chair, I said." Grinning, Ralph subsided into it. "Undo your knees." Still grinning, he uncrossed them: "Now?" "Now me." Emily, picking up her tea gown on both sides, crawled into his lap. "Tell me what happened." "N-nothing." Her face was in his neck. "Nothing?" "Not a thing." Ralph's stomach started shaking. "My girl, I blush for you." "Well, yes, you should." "Nothing happened? K[othing? With that perfume!" He was laughing harder now — "What is its name?" He sniffed it, rolling up his eyes. "Divorcons. Ralph — stop shaking: hold me tight!" "WHAT'S ITS NAME?" HE SNIFFED AT IT, ROLLING UP HIS EYES. October, 1931 21 A PRODIGAL SON WHO FLED THE FATTED CALF In which Mr. Rudolph Weisenborn, annihilating charcoalist, ma\es a dreadful mista\e and slays the Son in place of the Calf. The Son being none other than Samuel Putnam, Chicago's one time enfant (and how) terrible. Mr. Putnam is just a boy who some years ago forsoo\ the big town, the home town, to ma\e good in the little town on the ban\s of the Seine. He is now the editor of The New Review, one of those oh, so avant-garde publications from the wilds of IS/lontparnasse — you \now, the sort that make a pair of scissors and a match-head loo\ li\e an occasion for alimony. In addition he is editor-in-chief of The European Caravan and has translated so many wor\s from the French and Italian during the past year alone that he has been compelled to put his bibliography in the storage warehouse. By the way, he is Pirandello's hand-picked Englisher', having just completed a translation of the maestro's The New Colony for the Shuberts. Bac\ on a flying visit, M^- Putnam discovered that Chicago has a soul in her overnight bag. 22 The Chicagoan Chicago and Me An Expatriate Returns and Reviews By Samuel Putnam CHICAGO, I said, is a beautiful, a very beautiful woman — physically, exceed ingly lovely — but soulless, absolutely soulless. Take, for example, I went on, that glittering necklace of lights which one en counters coming into Grant Park from along the Outer Drive, or take that ruff of skyscrap ers which is to be glimpsed from the lake or the drive; New York, assuredly, has nothing to compare with these; and yet, and yet, New York has — well, New York has IT, and some thing more than Elinor's brand, at that. I was at a loss to put the thing into words, but as nearly as I am able to sum up my feel ing in retrospect, it was to the effect that Chi cago was a Too-Well-Cared-for-Lady, if you know what I mean. Too well cared for by — but let's not go into the lady's past. Percep tibly, she was putting on weight, and she sim ply could not refrain from reaching for — when what she should have reached for was — you know what I mean. At other times, Chicago impressed me as being a tomboy, just a big gal who hadn't learned to pull her dresses down. Then, there was yet another impression. I recall one day being in the company of one of the finest young poets that Chicago has produced, he happens to be an Italian by birth and citizenship, and he is now engaged in the slow and painful process of dying in a little Italian hospital on the out skirts of Bologna; but nevertheless, Emmanuel Carnevali, when he dies, will die more of a Chicagoan than an Italian. Carnevali and I, on the day in question, had taken a motor launch from Lincoln Park to the mouth of the river. As we came in, the Wrigley Building, then an outstanding feature of the downtown landscape, loomed in front of us. Instinctive ly, we both glanced up at it; and instinctively, we both shuddered slightly. Then, our eyes met and we exchanged smiles. "Dominant, isn't it?" This from me. "Yes," said Carnevali, "dominant but ugly." And so, I might go on rather indefinitely, rummaging in the clothes- hamper of my five-year-gone memories, assort ing and re-assorting my impressions which once vaguely cried for voice. The thing crys tallized, as such things not infrequently do, into an ever-present and gnawing irritation, an irritation to which I with equal frequency gave a (I am afraid) not too restrained utter ance in print. Mr. Mencken chanced to see some of my inky squirmings and, with the editorial eye out, suggested that I bunch them, so to speak, in the columns of the Mercury. The result was: "Chicago, an Obituary"; and it came near being my own obituary as well; mass-meetings were held, I was denounced by the Y. M. C. A. and probably by the Cham ber of Commerce, and had I not been safe in the fastnesses of St. Luke's paternity ward at the time, I should doubtless have been lynche;! l^OTE: Possibly predicated on the coin cidence of his birth with that of the Columbian Exposition, Editor Putnam's penetrating appreciation of his natal city has been whetted by a career spent largely in far and never unexciting places. His reactions to changes occur ring in the five years of his latest sojourn in Paris possess the clarity that comes of varied perspectives. as an horripilatory example of The Ungrate ful Son. Much water has flowed down the Seine and down the Drainage Canal since then, and I, who once stood upon the North Michigan Ave nue bridge watching the shed chrysalis of my youth flowing backward down the petroleum- coated waters of the Chicago River, have since made certain discoveries. I am no Einstein; but like Ulysses, I have, in the course of these past years, learned something of the ways of men and towns; and I know that, in the Puerta del Sol, the Piazza San Marco, the Place de la Concorde, the Alexanderplatz, strolling down the Cannebiere, dodging across Piccadilly Cir cus, flying over the Alps, lying in the Institut fur Schiffsund Troppenkrankheiten at Ham burg, breakfasting on Pernod in Montparnasse — I know that, upon all these several and div ers other occasions, I have of a sudden experi enced an attack of that most insidious and in curable of maladies, CHICAGO CON SCIOUSNESS— page the C. of C. and the Board of Governors! I have known at such times that I was a Chicagoan to the bone — hopelessly a Chicagoan — an, if you like, Up ward and Onward Forever Chicagoan. It is just the sort of thing that one doesn't shed, any more than the late Henry James could succeed in shedding his native Boston. It happens, that's all. And it sticks. And yet, the reports, such reports as I re ceived from the Old Home Town were far from glamorous-sounding. The same old peo ple, it appeared from my correspondents, were doing the same old things in the same old way. Could anything good come out of Chicago, af ter I had shaken its dust from my feet? I was more than a little inclined to doubt it. Even the likker out there, they informed me, was undrinkable as compared to New York's, and as for Miss Monroe and poor old Poetry Maga zine — my heart failed me at this point, the tears came into my eyes, and I considerately turned the subject over to my friend, Ezra Pound, who was born without compunction. And now, there is a dif ferent story again to tell. I have been in Chicago, at the date of writing, for a period of four days. Yes, I have seen the Palm Olive Building, I have visited the Tavern Club's roof, I have found the speakeasy known as "The City Beautiful," and I have been duly intoxicated in duly different manners and degrees. I none the less should have been left cold, had this been all. In New York, I be held the Chrysler and the Empire State, and the Scotch there is not bad at all, at all; yet these, I should hardly say, are all the gifts that Manhattan has to offer. The same with Chicago. I have found, I believe, a new Chi cago, but it is more than skyline, more than the new Planetarium or the Transportation Building. I have found, for one thing, a Chicago that is growing up (I hope). She may still be going through the growing-pains stage; she still may stumble over her feet and pick up the wrong knife at dinner; but at least, her dresses are now below her knees, and if she gets a bit red in the face when spoken to by an adult, her blushes, to me, are rather charming than otherwise. After all, as Mr. Bernard Shaw once observed, one can't learn to skate without making one's self ridiculous. The Plump Lady, too, while she retains sufficient of avoirdupois, has obviously been using a rowing-machine or ab staining from chocolates. She has lost that Too- Well-Cared-for-Look which once made her so conspicuous, don't you know? The short of it is, thanks to the well known Depression, Chi cago has lived, harder than any Greenwich Village Maiden ever did; she has come out of it all considerably chastened, and chastening, as any parson will tell you, is good for the soul. The Depression, indeed, so far as I can see, has been Chicago's salvation. Thanks to it, she has undergone a resurrection; and if she does not have a new and florid "Renais sance" within the next few years, she may have something better yet: a steady, fructify ing growth on the spiritual and aesthetic side — but this isn't the Fourth Presbyterian, is it? If I am asked for the evidence of things seen, I can only reply that it is a thing felt rather than seen. M. Huysmans, back in the last century, spoke of "the subterranean work of grace in the soul," and it seems to me that this is exactly what Chicago is experiencing. As for the more tangible "outward signs of an inward grace," it is extremely difficult — and dangerous — to attempt to lay hold upon them. I can only remark that a city which can pro duce a painter of the stature of a Ramon Shiva or a poet of the exquisiteness of a Mark Turbyfill is not without hope, even though it may cast its Frank Lloyd Wrights into outer darkness. Some day it will discover that Frank Lloyd Wright is possibly the one con tribution that the city by the lake has made to the international arts. But by that time Chicago will be a grown woman — and she may even be fumbling for her knitting and her specs. October, 1931 23- ''Perfectly Perfect, Mr. Cavendish ... I Haven't Thrilled to Anything So Since Abie's Irish Rose.-" The Chicagoan The Suicide Racket The American People Must Be Saved By Milton S. Mayer A FEW fogies still in circulation are fa miliar with the bilious complaint of • Thomas Hobbes that life in the pres ent state of nature is nasty, brutish, and short. How Professor Hobbes felt about life is all right with most right-thinking people, and has been for some years, since the name of Thomas Hobbes appears pretty far down the list of authors -who - must - be-read-sooner-or-later. Of recent months, however, the Hobbesian out look has caught up with an unwitting number, and an increasing number, of placid American souls and impelled them to exchange the dross of earth for the bliss of heaven. The fact that the insecure sand on which thousands of fortunes were built was dissi pated one cataclysmic day in October, 1929, need not be embellished; but it is presented here because it illumines a new fact: More than 25,000 persons killed themselves in the United States in 1930 — more than in any previous year, but fewer, in all probability, than will kill themselves in 1931. More than 25,000 in 1931? More, the in surance researchers predict. More, because the sense of irremediable disaster takes a year, sometimes two, to penetrate the fattily forti fied wall of self-esteem and sentiment and in stall itself in the human consciousness. More, because "seeing it through" is taking too long. Twenty - five thousand suicides — twenty-five thousand dusty bums re turned to dust, twenty-five thousand bad debts crossed off: why not? Let the insurance com panies tell you why not: In 1930 suicides increased ten per cent among "industrial" (laborers, shops hands, etc.) policy holders, thirty per cent among "ordinary" ("white collar") policy holders. Hard times were nothing new for the vagrant, cheap wheat was what the farmer had dourly expected, the laborer already knew short rations like a brother; but for the man in the swivel chair, the man recognized by the economic system as the apatheosis of stability, the pinch was too much. A revolver, a phial, an open window — a gulp and a flourish — and he had escaped. His business had gone to hell — he'd see it there. If he had had foresight he didn't have to sneak out, he didn't have to crawl through the tall grass in the Elysian fields like an ordinary thief; he was able to sell his debts to the in surance companies and die an ethical thief. There's a difference, it seems, when the lights go out. A round figure has it that thirty potential millionaires have "sold out" to the insurance companies since that grisly day in 1929. Po tential millionaires — men insured for a million dollars or more. Most of that thirty million has been paid, and two or three hundred mil lion more on smaller policies. The insurance companies have been left holding the bag, and they are setting up a squeal. Witness this : "... Should insurance carriers pay claims THE CO-AUTHOR OF Steps In the Dar\ CONTINUES HIS RESEARCH ^B INTO THE DE n VIOUS BUT BY NO MEANS UNINVIT ING BYWAYS OF : ' v *'*£&£$.• HUMAN BE •ypPP^^F HAVIOUR PHOTOGRAPH BY ROI'.MLK 1 #»*' g00r V** BlfltljHEi " ^H^Hf ^B ^S ^HH .4, when policy holders bring about the loss de liberately? A fire insurance company does not pay for arson. A marine company does not pay for a ship intentionally scuttled. Yet a life insurance company pays for a death occa sioned by the man who buys the coverage. It is not right. "We want to recognize the rights of bene ficiaries, but it becomes a fair question whether, in protecting the rights of beneficiaries, we may not actually be dealing badly by them. Many persons would not kill themselves if the insurance companies were relieved thereby of payment except for return of premium money. Few if any beneficiaries would prefer insur ance money to the companionship of the indi viduals who make them beneficiaries. "However ..." I quote the above from a statement by Harry W. Dingman, vice-president and medi cal director of the Continental Assurance Company. The insurance companies are fat. If they take one on the chin along with the rest of the big fellows, they're big enough to take it standing. At the zenith of the prosperity decade it was a million dollar line here, a million dollar line there — the pub lic wanted security, the companies provided it — and paid themselves monumental dividends. The salesman who brought in a "jumbo risk" was made; a stock broker was a better risk than a grocery clerk. Next time they'll know better. Next time — if there is one. The suicide frenzy of 1930 was twelve years in the mak ing. The collapse of the market was immedi ately responsible in this country, but suicide, as a gentleman's antidote for frustration, was October, 1931 25 popularized by writers — even by thinkers — in England and in Germany right after the war. Capricious books, contemplative monographs appeared by the score. In France philosophy and psychology wrestled with it under the aegis of the Academy. A few years ago suicide made its first respectable incursion into Amer ican parlor conversation. The thinkers and the jesters went to work. By the autumn of 1929 we were pretty well up on suicide. It was simply a matter of touching us off. The market did that. Suicide was once the preserve of the wretched; today it is the prerogative of the rich. Back in 1928 one-third of the 13,000 persons who killed themselves were insane, one-third were driven over the edge by im passes of love and sex. Protracted poverty and business failure took one-fifth. Flashes of abnormality, liquor, and sickness, generally in curable, accounted for the other one-seventh. Of the 25,000 suicides in 1930 at least two- thirds are incontestably assignable to financial imbroglios. Behind suicide lies the instinct to kill. It is innate and it has been, up to now, ineradicable. The other animals kill each other voraciously; man alone, though he shows a stomachal re straint in killing his fellow, kills himself. Sui cide is a manifestation of an erotic element that only humanity seems to have drawn from the forces of creation. It is always stimulated by shame, always extenuated by irony; the fruit of the wedding of the nerves of animal re sponse with the nerves of intellectual spirit. Until now suicide was the only way out for the useless, the dying, the poseur, the thin- worn temperament. But in the light of some of the past year's cases this unshriven road to the skeleton's peace has assumed a subtler caste, an amorphous strength. On the morning of February 9 James M. Smith was refused an extension of time to pay a premium on his $25,000 life insurance policy at the Chicago office of the Mutual Life Insurance Company, his employers. If he could make a partial pay ment, they told him, the extension could be arranged. He did not return that day; at mid night of the following day, February 10, the policy would revert to the company if the pay ment had not been made. On the morning of February 10 Smith sat in his hotel room and wrote a note to his wife and two-year-old child back home in Duluth; then he drank poison. The Smith family capital rose to a total of $25,000. Smith was a young man, an energetic young man. He had struck it tough. There was nothing left but the three of them; with him gone there would be two of them and a for tune. Smith cashed himself in for $25,000. Lawrence Ach's idea of a fair price for his life was higher — $1,500,000. In a hotel room in Cincinnati he wrote a note to his wife and children in New York City, explained to them his position and theirs. He had nothing, wanted nothing; he was worth nothing alive, $1,500,000 dead. He shot himself. While creditors of the firm of Reilly, Brock & Co., a Philadelphia brokerage house, won dered if the assets really did cover the liabil ities, Sidney F. Tyler Brock and George K. Reilly reassured them by committing suicide. They died within three days of each other. Each man carried $1,000,000 in life insurance, but because $325,000 had been taken out less than a year before death by suicide only $675,- 000 was collectible in each case. To the cred itors of Reilly, Brock 6=? Company, came the news that the $1,350,000 life insurance had the firm as beneficiary. George H. McFadden was found dead in a bathtub. An electric vibrator was in the water; its current had electrocuted him. Had it fallen in? McFadden was insured for $2,- 000,000. T. Edward Hambleton, a Baltimore banker, was found dead by his butler. There was a bullet-hole in his head, a p:stol on the floor. Had he killed himself? In the Mc Fadden case a coroner's jury said accident, an insurance company said suicide. In the Ham bleton case, the coroner said suicide, an insur ance company said murder. The first man the insur ance companies ignore is the coroner; the next six are the members of the coroner's jury. Then come the newspapers. "Wealthy Banker Plunges to Death." "Plunge" means both "fall" and "leap." Avoiding libel, the papers are ambiguous. Half the time it is obviously suicide, and the papers are passively dishonest. A man who rates an eight-column "line" across the front page on the occasion of his death is generally an eminent citizen, and the death of an eminent citizen evokes that which the life of an eminent citizen rarely does — the tribute of sentimental respect from the raucous profession of journalism. The coroner's jury is composed either of ( 1 ) hoboes, who get, as a rule, $1 (unless they split it with the deputy coroner who brings them in) for listening to the coroner's interpreta tion of the case and signing his verdict, or (2) of intimate friends of the deceased eminent citizen. In the case of (2) it is obvious why the verdict of accidental death is reached; in the case of (1) the survivors of the deceased eminent citizen talk things over with the coroner, and why not? Accidental death. So the figure of 25,000 suicides is conserva tive, having been compiled from official, i.e., coroners' reports. There are two reasons why the insurance companies ignore these reports of accidental death: first, in cases of suicide, life insurance taken out less than a year (in some companies, less than two years) before death is contestable, that is, uncollectible, on the grounds that the dead man insured him self with death premeditated; second, accident insurance is uncollectible upon suicide. There fore the insurance companies proceed to in vestigate, with a view to proving the deceased eminent citizen a suicide. They succeed, more often than not, and they are content to have their findings kept out of the papers le-t they be suspected of being pikers, which is what they are, along with the rest of us. And the papers, having permitted themselves this nuance of sentimental respect, have closed their columns to the incident following their pub lication of the coroner's jury finding of acci dental death. x lunge" cases are never quite free from impudent curiosity on the part of the public. Within a few months of each other three eminent Chicagoans, a packer, a merchant, and a scientist and financier, plunged to their deaths. Before a finger had been pointed, friends, business associates of the three men, announced : "It could not have been suicide. He was in fine spirits, had no financial worries, no do mestic disorders. It is obvious that it was an accident." One had plunged from a window seat in his seventh floor apartment. One whose eyesight was failing, had plunged from a ninth floor bathroom window thirty inches above the floor across a radiator and window ledge two feet wide. One had plunged from the roof of a ten-story garage he owned; his hat and coat were found neatly folded on the parapet, and a bookkeeper in a building across the street swore that the man had jumped. In all three cases the coroner's juries said, "Accidental death." These three magnificoes had "plunged." One of the reasons why they are believed to have fallen rather than leaped is that "plung ing" is not the millionaire's preferred style of killing himself. Shooting was the reigning favorite last season, with the revolver figuring in twice as many suicides as its two rivals, the noose and the phial. Then gas, and, in the order of their popularity, drowning, "pierc ing," leaping, and crushing. This line-up does not include, however, the fatal grade-crossing "accidents" and the "accidental" deaths by carbon monoxide poisoning in garages. In 1921 suicide went berserk among the bourgeois. There were 20,000 cases. That wave was imputed to the War-born bacchanalia — the world was going around so fantastically fast that the light weights were falling off. The student suicide epidemic, in the months of September and October of 1927, owed its virulence to news paper publicity. And now the millionaires. Why have the millionaires gone the way of the flimsy high-flyer and the maladjusted col lege boy? Why the millionaires, the self-made men, the banking giants, the industrialists? W^hat's their game? Pride, and its obverse, shame, is their game, the insurance people have decided. Not poverty, not failure, not despair of "coming back" — but the shame of these actualities lights the way to forgetfulness and forgottenness. The tramp who is down to his last dime, the ditch digger who is down to his last ten dollars — they're better risks than the broker or the banker or the board chairman who is down to his last hundred thousand. Their shame is less galling. The answer to "What makes a suicide?" used to be: "Emotional instability." But since suicide has been taken up by the best circles a new answer is called for. W^hat makes a suicide? Is it mental bewilderment? Is it the spiritual weight of poverty? Is it unhinged nerves? For the nouveau suicide it is none ot these. It is: "Necessity of spending the sum mer in the city." The suicide racket is catching on; it looks as though the insurance companies are up against it. Right now they are all in a pet over the situation. Sentimental pressure, "third party rights," state laws demand that the insurance companies recognize suicide as a valid mode of departing life. The pro fession is agitated, and it is agitating — agitating for longer periods following the purchase of life insurance during which the suicide claim is disallowed, more thorough inspection of applicants, psychoanalytical inspection of applicants, hesitation in grabbing off "jumbo risks." The life insurance companies are reaching for the life preservers. The lives of the Amer ican people must be saved. 26 The Chicagoan FAMOUS ATHLETES YOU READ barney oldfield TOMMY LOUGHRAN LOU GEHRIG ART SHIRES f^ * JACK DEMPSEY LEFTY GROVE JOE MCCARTHY KIKI CUYLER GABBY STREET BOBBY JONES ROGERS HORNSBY A. A. STAGG am NICK ALTROCK CONNIE MACK MAX SCHMELING FOR EXPLANATION TURN TO PACE 73 BABE RUTH October, 1931 27 LUCY OF STATE STREET, IS EVERY INCH AN EMPRESS, TO LUCY Impressions By Philip Nlsbitt Bac\ from his beloved islands to attend the birth of a boo\ about them, Mr. jVjesbitt was petitioned to s\etch out' standing aspects of the cii'ic scene, with the result shown. M A G G WEST SON, WHIT LESS REGAL, TO MAGGIE MARGOT, WHO MODELS THEM ON BOUL MICH, LIVES HER ART — NELLIE, THE SECOND MAID, PRE- EMPTS THE BOULE VARD SO HOW CAN YOU BLAME THE DEAR DEB FOR SEEMING, IF EVER SO SLIGHTLY, PUT OUT? 28 The Chicagoan Why They Dance One Who Sees All and Knows All Tells All By Ben Bernie A rare Old Ben OUR more muscular forefathers, in these distant, unrecorded pre-hors d'oeuvre days, picked 'em up and put 'em down on Wednesday and Saturday nights, according to the archaeologists. It has never occurred to me, until now, to wonder why. Half-naked savages, they were, dancing endlessly to the twanging of a bit of catskin against a hollow log. What it was that inspired those stout fellows, in that tough past, is for H. G. Wells and the boys to decide. I daresay, if you'll forgive me, that they were a bit bored with the raw-meat diet, the radio and whatnot, and they did a little bare footed dust-slapping just to break the terrible monotony. I shouldn't digress, but you can imagine how you'd feel if you'd spent the day panting after a dinosaur with a bow and arrow. And so, I suppose, the urge to escape ennui accounts for most of our successful dance places nowadays. But after I-can't-tell-you- how-many years of observation, it seems to me that any general statement will fail to explain "why they dance." roR instance, you'll fre quently see the fat girl, wearing down the hippolas. Somebody has told her that dancing and horseback riding will melt her to a 16. She barges around the floor with terrific energy, usually accompanied by a pale little fellow who seems to be on the point of scream ing. This type dances with a Terrific Purpose. There is, too, the I-Won't-Admit-It-Glider. This is an erect gentleman of about 72 sum mers. You'll find him at the College Inn, at Monroe, Michigan, at Saratoga. He'll be around two or three nights a week, giving you a stimulated twinkle. He dances because it's a public way to brag about his juvenility. He won't give in. Though he is ready to collapse, he struggles around the floor with a tri umphant grin on his face. When the number is over, I've no doubt he goes away into a corner and breaks down. But he always comes back for more. Then there is, of course, the Married-Guy- Who-Is-Cheating. He is dancing through the last days of a delayed adolescence. When he swings past the orchestra he whistles to keep up his courage, and in spite of the fact that he is a total stranger to the entire band, he'll give you a furtive wink as he goes by. A week later, he comes back with a different girl, but the same wink. If — later on — he's forced by malicious circumstances to come with his own wife to your night club, he shuffles near the center of the dance floor, with a dead-pan stare and a weak-milk complexion. If the crowd is large and he is forced to approach the band, the look in his eyes, as he ignores you, is pitiful to behold. And — speaking of dead-pan looks — I've never been able to figure out why they dance in Great Britain. We have played to 500 English couples who looked like blue-eyed Vikings gazing at an empty sea. "Hear, hear," they say, standing limp and relaxed at the finish; and until someone tells you that the number has been a success you think you're insulted. They play golf the same way. I was once playing in a threesome and we courteously asked an unhurried foursome if we might play through. They took out their pipes with the mechanical co-ordination of a Rasch ballet and gave it to us: that Look-That-Does-Not-See. Great people. You can't waste their time. But to proceed: We have, in this country, the Confident Hoofer. You will always find the Confident Hoofer on the outside corners of the dance floor, where he can give the public the benefit of his accuracy and agility. He dances with considerable ostentation and usually achieves a heel-over-ankle just in front of the band. Then he looks up as if to say, "Can you handle this, boys?" Invariably, we can. Then, well over on the other hand, there is the modest fellow who is Dancing-Because- His-Girl-Wants-To. He goes, like a homing pigeon with a broken wing, to the center of the floor, and sniggles about there unhappily until the dance is over. Sometimes he works up nerve enough to catch your eye and silently signal that as far as he is concerned the band can take a rest. I mustn't forget the "Hi, Freddy" fellow. He appeared many times last season, and I'm sure we'll see ten more of him next year. He's the chap who comes up to you furtively and says, out of the corner of his mouth: "Listen, Mr. Bernie — you don't know me, but I've told my girl you do. When I dance by, will you say 'Hi, boy," or 'Hi, Freddy'? And I'll say, 'Hello, Ben.' Will you?" And he mops his brow. Later, he goes past, doing the Dancing-Under-Protest- Hop. Frequently you see the Married Martyr who is only dancing because it gives him an oppor tunity to retaliate with those three words that the fair sex has trade marked as its own: "I'm too tired." He falls in the class with those who Dance- With-Their-Own-Wives-to-Avoid- Argument. It is not unusual to see an elderly married man, accompanied by his wife, and a male friend with gigolo inclinations. Not enough has been said about friendship of this type. I HE racketeer from the underworld dances with a peculiar slouch. Invariably, he circles the floor in a sort of crouch. Why he dances, I don't know; but I can always tell an egg by his style. Some times, I can even tell what stock he is selling. Speaking of stocks, there is always the worried, plump fellow who Dances-To-Forget- the-Market — and can't. If you should look into his eyes as he trips by, you'd see anguish there. Coeds tell me the Guess-Your- Weight- Dancer is a familiar type. He does not care much for dancing, but he loves to underesti mate your weight. He'll say, "Ah, gwan, you don't weigh more'n eighty-five or ninety." His dancing is largely conversation. Then there is the osteopathic or Masseuse Dancer. You know all about him if you've been around at all. The Bow-Taker is another well-known figure. His dancing is very social. He knows everybody in the room. Before the evening is over he has bowed once to each member of the orchestra, and three times to the leader. He lifts his chin four inches and brings it down slowly, so nobody will miss the big greeting. .But it's the college boys and girls, youngsters who dance for the love of dancing, who are in rhythm with music and a springtime universe, who inspire a band. And the middle-aged couples who have not forgotten the essential joy of music and bright places. And the debutante and her cleancut escort, who dance as if there were nothing in the world that mattered more. 'Tis these who bring joy to the Old Maestro. We have played for college dances and debutante parties that were positively exhilarat ing; and I can tell you, and with all sincerity — if you'll forgive me a bit of sentiment — there is no finer sight in all the world than young people who are oblivious to everything but music, moonlight and each other. Frequently, when I see such a couple dancing by, in per fect harmony, I take my beat from them. Why do they dance? I think we know. And, times like that, I believe there's something on the level in the world, after all. October, 1931 29 KAY STROZZI A Winnet\a girl who made good in the Big City. She left the Junior League flat for the greater triumphs of Broadway, thus adding to the prominence of her family in various fields of activity. For she is a sister of the Strotz boys, Sid of Stadium fame and Hal of La Salle Street. The Silent Witness at the Selwyn is more colorful because of her warm and vivid presence. 30 The Chicagoan The Critics Earn Their Pay With the Theatrical Season Again on a Gold Basis A BABY left on the door-step of a home full of respectable and perfectly com- • petent males! A couple, but slightly acquainted, wake up in the same bed after a binge of no mean merit! These provocative and potentially naughty situations are the premises around which two current farces are respectively built, In the Best of Families re cently at the Apollo and Unexpected Hus band at the Adelphi. Both situations, while not particularly novel, contain the seed from which may grow amusing comedy. But in the handling comes failure for In the Best of Families, success for Unexpected Husband. The former is reminiscent of a group of drum mers in a Pullman smoker; the latter suggests rather a group of worldly raconteurs in a smart club. All of which brings to mind a quaint idea for stage censorship. Why not a committee of competent judges with plenary power to de cree who may and who may not write of risque subjects? Then we would not have such con- conglomerate masses of leers, smirks and banal double-entendres as make up In the Best of Families. Even the actors seem uncomfortable at being mixed up in such a dubious proceed ing. Two of them at least, Burford Hampden and Marian Warring-Manley, are farceurs of skill who deserve a better fate. On the contrary, Unexpected Husband, has a very tasteful bedside manner. One can guf faw at its robustious humors without a single furtive glance at the ladies in the party. And in addition to its facile sex pleasantries, the play contains much sly harpooning of the transom-peeping tabloids. In a good race for acting honors Arthur Aylsworth, Alan Bunce and John Blunkall win, place and show. J3e Y o n d perad venture Lou Holtz is a Jewish boy. His face is as racially characteristic as any on Broadway, and at least half of his gags are at his own (or his people's) expense. So it follows that his open ing at the Grand in You Said It on a Sunday night was a huge success. No denying Holtz is a clever mimic and good at the tried-and-blue stuff which the stage inherits from vaudeville. Yet like spinach or Harry Richmond, he is largely a matter of taste. Personally I did not find him ingratiating, but admit I was in the minority on that particular Sunday night. Opinion might also differ on Mr. Holtz's chief support, Miss Lyda Roberti. This girl is a rara avis with a number of interesting at tributes. First, one of the most infectious grins in the world, a grin aided and abetted by a perfectly adequate set of molars. Second ly, a mop of platinum hair which reduces Jean Harlow to a mere blonde. Thirdly, a Polish accent whcih was largely unintelligible to these old ears. Fourthly, a very trim little behind with which Mr. Holtz toys manually and verbally throughout the evening. And lastly, a comedy method which needs some toning By William C. Boyden down to be entirely effective. On the whole I would vote "Yes." As for the rest, a college show of familiar pattern with energy expended tirelessly, some innocuous sentiment and a couple of fair songs. Ill say it that You Said It is not such good news as Good 3S[eu>s. Then came that mold of fashion and glass of form, Mr. Lionel Atwill, into the Selwyn with a high-toned mystery thriller entitled The Silent Witness. It might be called Murder on the Couch, Strangling Fingers or Death in Pajamas, and still be very good of its kind. I like these things — polished baronets, weakling sons, faithful fiancees, sul try adventuresses, comic Cockney witnesses, menacing barristers et al. and et al. If any faithful and suffering soul has fol lowed my writings in this column, he is proba bly tired of reading that I enjoy mystery hocus-pocus and care little for domestic com edy. Yet such is my repetitious confessional, and I stand by it and by the opinion that The Silent Witness is taut, ingenious and reason ably free from the absurdities customarily en countered in such operas. The authors have, to be sure, borrowed rather freely from Dis honored Lady, Interference, On Trial and other suave murder festivals, but they have gone about their pilfering in workmanlike style. The cast deserved more space than I have to give it. The impeccable Mr. Atwill is very impressively old-schoolish as the baronet who stands trial to save his errant son. And in his own ponderously jolly manner he registers a few laughs. The wicked adventuress who causes all the grief is played by Kay Strozzi with easy abandon, seductive warmth and not a little humor. Some sugared adjectives might also be employed by way of comment on For- tunio Bonanova, Harold DeBecker, Thurlow Bergen and J. W. Austin. If you live in an isolated locality and have to listen to water all day long, it is just too bad. At least so our drama tists tell us. Look how the folks in Rain car ried on. And now at the Blackstone we have a chance to examine the effect of Surf — beat ing its endlessly monotonous rhythm — on three fellows and a girl marooned in a Lighthouse. Perhaps one should not use the term "fellows." When men are so referred to, one usually thinks of gardenias in the button-hole, smart walking sticks and a cigarette tapped on a gold case. The boys in Surf are not such gentry. They are comprised of the light-keeper, a big dumb rough-neck with a heart of gold, played by William Desmond, Hollywood ex- 192 5; his as sistant, a much rougher-neck, acted (and very well too) by Walker Whiteside; and a cast away embezzler, acted (and badly) by one Barrie O'Danicls. These three get all messed up in what is called "the surge of primitive pas sion" over the keeper's wanton wife, rather un evenly sketched by Miss Franc Hale. One gets the impression that the author con ceives himself as having written a significant contribution to the field of emotional drama. If so, he is optimistic in the thought. But he has concocted a play of some sustained power and not a little interesting characterization. The thing acts, but needs a deal of better acting. Only Mr. Whiteside measured up to the full requirements of the piece. His uncomprising picture of a carnal ruffian is infinitely more in teresting than his customary appearance as a suave and sinister oriental. Here his language is almost beyond the pale; he spits ad lib; his sexual technique is troglodictic. Yet he puts such stuff over in a fashion both honest and entertaining. Mr. Desmond and Mr. O'Daniels, on the contrary, respectively shout and grimace in the most approved stock company manner. Y OU can buy three stocks for the price of one these days. In tune with the times Billy Rose is giving three stars for the erstwhile price of one in his Crazy Quilt, which turned a couple of thousand away from the Apollo on the opening night. And Phil Baker is offering at least three stock market jokes where one went before; Ted Healy is presenting three stooges when one might have served; and Fanny Brice is singing at least three old songs as well as several new ones. It is a friendly evening, full of familiar stuff, rowdy, uproariously vulgar, catchily tuneful. Phil Baker and his plant in the box rib each other according to the old Shubert custom until one has some doubt as to which is the stooge. Their stuff is so good that one can forgive them for using much moss-covered material. Most of Phil's new gags are "depression" jokes. And why not? It gives one a fellow felling to know that even opulent actors take the panic to heart. And Ted Healy is Ted Healy, a coarse clown but hard to resist. He and Baker get along swell by giving each other a rare as sortment of Bronx cheers. Fannie Brice was a blues-singer when Helen Morgan was serving short orders off the arm in Danville. And no one I have ever heard can put over the heart-jerkers any better than Fanny. Certainly no one can combine her gift of pathos with her knack of perfect burlesque. She is one grand performer, stopping the show when the customers are reaching for their hats by her revival of My Man. The stellar triumverate would suffice Crazy §}juilt, and there are few other principals of im portance, unless one include Lew Brice. His chief chore is a twin-act with his sister. The two could only look more alike if Fanny had not had her nose straightened. But there are other ingredients in the revue to fill in the time pleasurably while Brice, Baker and Healy are changing. October, 1931 31 CHORISTERS OF DE LAWD The angelic hosts trained by Hall Johnson lend that vague something called atmosphere to the first dramatic smash of the season, Marc Connelly's The Green Pastures. They furnish a fresh and complicated tapestry of sound that adds meaning and life to this guileless modern fol\-play. What The Green Pastures would be without them it is difficult to say. It is certain that their presence on the stage or in the wings is a tribute to the wisdom of either an author or a director. The arrangements of familiar spirituals used by the Hall Johnson chorus are well-nigh perfect, sophisticated enough to tic\le the musical ear tired of "straight" spirituals, yet masterfully direct and opposite to the action. They are sung with the same abandon that would characterize them at colored fish-fry or camp meeting. 32 The Chicagoan The Season Begins News from the Lords of Concert and Opera By Robert Pollak THIS is the open season for announce ments, so let us announce. The advance broadsheets of Bertha Ott, the Chicago Civic Opera and the Chicago Symphony Or chestra breathe little of the spirit of depres sion. The town's leading impresariess has booked, at the Playhouse, Orchestra Hall, the StudeBaker and the Civic Theatre recital upon recital, her series extending far into the rainy months of 1932. One of her first, Richard Tauber in song, should be one of the best. The great Austrian tenor, a household god in Mid dle Europe, comes from London where he has captured a cautious and lethargic musical pub lic by his singing in Lehar's The Land of Smiles. He is one of those rare ambassadorial musicians, equally at home, like Kreisler, in almost all musics. He can do the maudlin Schoner Gigolo and the most sensitive lied of Schubert, transcending the former, bowing humbly to the latter. He has been called "the German Caruso" but the title is scarcely ap propriate for his electicism is unique. Frederick Stock, lately back from Europe, shrugs in disgust at the Continental inventory of contemporary compositions. It would seem that his management will depend this season on the pull of the soloist rather than upon the speculative items of novelty. A horde of mas ter pianists including Gieseking, Iturbi, Grainger, Paderewski and Rachmaninoff, have been booked. Gordon, Enesco, Spalding, Thi- baud and Zimbalist are among those who will fiddle while America is burning. Most inter esting among the vocal soloists on schedule is Hans Nissen, the first Sachs of last season's Civic Opera production of Die Meister singer. It is to be hoped and expected that Stock will unearth some new music during the course of the concerts. Last season, if we remember cor rectly, he was just as gloomy about the Euro peans when he came back in the fall, but three or four snappy things came to light just the same. If he would heed this one still, small voice he might look around the North Ameri can continent a little more carefully and give us some Chavez, some Ruggles and some Roger Sessions. Come what may the orchestra seems to be in for a busy and prosperous season. The management has focused the limelight on the soloist to good effect for advance sales are run ning about as high as ever in the history of the orchestra. The change from Saturday to Thursday night has been received with calm favor. The Opera announces three novelties and three revivals, indicating that the electric light and power industry is holding up manfully and that Mr. Insull, like Mr. Eckstein, refuses to be daunted by the economic hurricane. Having developed its German wing to a point of near perfection, the Opera will produce Mozart's Magic Flute and revive Wagner's Parsifal. The association of the libretto of The Magic Flute with the quarrels between free-masonry and the church is familiar to every student of opera. That the political theme no longer has any significance need not trouble us, for Mozart's book, hastily con cocted by his mountebank manager Schikaneder and a minor singer named Gieseke, was probably qsiite vague and unimportant' to his contemporaries. The score sparkles with the in vention of the young Olym pian from the fugued alle gro of the overture to the melodious union of Pamino and Tamino. Parsifal, Wagner's de vout bow to the ecclesias tics, will test to the fullest the powers of the local company. Pollak should handle the long, sonorous score masterfully unless he is lulled into laggard tempi by the more devout pass ages of the work. The con ductor, more than in most instances, can make or break a Parsifal. If he con centrates on the drama and movement of the work its consecrational elements will rise and go forward by themselves. If he goes to church for three acts the parishioners will slip out before the benediction. The two other novelties scheduled are Schilling's Mona Lisa, a music drama based on the gal in the portrait, and Leoni's L'Oracolo, a compact little melodrama that served the great Scotti well when, in his autumnal days, he was more actor than singer. Vanni-Mar- coux will do the dirty work at the cross-roads in Chicago. The scene is Chinatown before the earthquake, and what could be more sinis ter? Massenet's Herodiade and Giordano's Andrea Chenier will serve as the other two revivals. Chorus of angels — The colored brethren that sing under the di rection of Hall Johnson during and between the many scenes of The Green Pastures, re store our waning faith in the negro spiritual as an important element of American folk- music. Not that we had ever really lost it. But too many people having been singing spirituals. For the past decade they have been flung at us in great gobs from the concert platform until we could scarcely stand the thought of Jericho's downfall or little David's harp. Even Paul Robeson sings them too much and too often. But in Marc Connelly's fable they serve as the throbbing orchestration of the drama. They permeate the piece, point de lawd and moses, A close-up from The Green Pastures, PHOTOGRAPHED BY HENRY C. JORDAN. it and adorn it, give it a vitality it could never boast on its own. The Hall Johnson choristers sing freshly and accurately and the choral ar rangements are interesting. And yet their singing lacks all formalism, flows as spontane ously as if the brethren and sistern were offi ciating at a revival meeting. A new Schumann Biography — Like most musical biographers Victor Basch fails to exert the critical sensitive ness that would be expected from him if he were reviewing a concert of works by his sub ject. His Schumann, a Life of Suffering (Knopf) treats capably the main incidents of a fascinat ing life, but touches on the German's major and minor compositions with a hand uniformly lavish in praise. This would not be surprising if his book had been written in 1880. But it is released as present-day interpretation and the galaxy of laudatory adjectives will fool nobody. That Schumann was a master can not be denied. That he wrote page after page of unmitigated tosh is just as true. If you can excuse Basch his apparent blindness to Schu mann's shortcomings as a composer you will find the biography worth reading. The happy days of the Davidsbundler, the incredible quar rel with Wiecks, the life with Clara, the gradual break-down of an ardent mind are chronologically set-forth. The translation, by Catherine Phillips, is second-rate. October, 1931 33 Carlos Drake, Chicago Playwright A Sketch of the Author of Mrs. Fiske's New Play By Dura n d S m i t h ONE winter afternoon in 1914, the gym nasium of the Chicago Latin School was filled with an eager, restless crowd of children, several harassed teachers and a few beaming mothers. The seventh grade was put ting on a play by one of its number and the shouts and laughter attested to its hilarious success. The author, just turned fourteen, accepted the congratulations quietly and kept his head, but they strengthened more than ever his de termination to be a writer. The name of his play was The Blue Ruby. This bland incongruity was a significant in dication of a dominant factor in Carlos Corey Drake's life — the unquenchable, the irresistible desire to be ever the complete individualist. A sense of humor quick to seize upon the least deviation from the normal has helped him to achieve this desire. The fantastic, the ridicu lous have held for him an endless fascination. Originality, above all else, has been his aim. He once gave a dinner party which began with demi-tasse and dessert and ended with the hors d'oeuvres. It is a far cry from The Blue Ruby to Against the Wind in which Mrs. Fiske is to appear at the Blackstone Theatre starting October 26th. The years have brought color and action to Carlos Drake's existence. For a successful writer, he defied tradition by being born, in Chicago, to a family of wealth and distinction, and by not being handicapped by it. After the Latin School, he attended an amazing number of prepara tory schools, five, including Hotchkiss and Westminster. He contributed to all the liter ary publications, of course, editing the West minster Review, but he did not neglect football. Late in 1917 he started a magazine called The Waste Bas\et, which published worthy but youthful contributions. It lasted a year. At the same time, although only eighteen, he tried unsuccessfully to get into the war. While he was at the Lake Placid School in 1919 his craving for originality broke out in an unforgettable fashion. As a special student, he had been excused from the school's military training under a retired major, and of course he made fun of it. On the day before the winter term ended, in Coconut Grove, Florida, neighbors and friends of the headmaster came over to watch the boys perform. After an hour of drilling the boys were drawn up in line and put "at rest" while the major joined the group of older people under the palm trees for a cool drink and a few minutes of sociability. Just then down the dusty road came a figure on horseback, riding without saddle, reins or stirrups, a strange figure in blue. Through the gateway it came, the rider in the blue and red uniform of a French officer with bristling mus taches astride a huge white truck horse led by a little negro boy with scared, popping eyes. On to the field and along the line of the com pany came Carlos Drake. He dismounted, walked up to the captain, his friend and school mate, saluted and said so that everyone could hear: "In the name of the Republic of France, I have come to thank you and your company for the part you have played in saving my nation and in appreciation I am instructed to give you this." From out of his pocket he pulled a hardened doughnut which dangled by a silver ribbon from a huge safety-pin. Grasp ing the captain's coat-front he pinned it on and completed the ceremony with a resound ing kiss on both cheeks. In the autumn of 1919 he entered Yale. His literary ability received recognition by the "Lit." and the Graphic. He became managing editor of the latter. He went Deke. He wrote epigrams for Smart Set when Mencken and Nathan edited it. And then the undergraduate phase of his life was abruptly terminated in May, 1921 — he eloped with Ann Keith of Fairfax, Virginia. The unexpected has played so large a part in Carlos Drake's life that nothing he now does can be considered unexpected. People shook their heads and no one supposed that the impulsive marriage of such a high-strung and sensitive person would prove an unusually happy one. His elopement was the most for tunate thing he ever did. His wife has been of inestimable help to him in a hundred ways and has contributed balance and stability to a somewhat volatile and capricious temperament. And Carlos Drake's three children are the most delightful children any playwright ever had. For a time after his marriage he worked on a newspaper in Chicago and (again doing the unexpected) sold bonds for the Illinois Trust and Savings Bank. In May, 1922, he went to Europe to travel and write and finally to settle down in Paris. That same year Mencken pub lished his Club ?Vjght in the old Smart Set. In Paris he did some work for Ford Madox Ford when he and Pound and Hemingway and Joyce were backing the Transatlantic Review. Surcease and The Lost Dive appeared in that magazine in 1924 and the latter was chosen by O'Brien for inclusion in his Best Short Stories of the year. It is characteristic of him that he has not written a novel, since by thirty-one almost every writer has finished at least one. But that, nevertheless, is his ambition. Then came another un expected step. Carlos Drake's father, Tracy Drake, wanted him to come home and go into the hotel business. Instead he stayed abroad, organized C. C. Drake et Cie., travel agents, and in 1926 representing a group of American hotels opened up a gorgeous office on the Rue de Castiglione. The travel business appealed to his lively imagination and he welcomed the venture with an enthusiasm that was positively contagious. The lamp of Aladdin was the symbol of the company and it was his boast that he would undertake to perform whatever services his clients requested. Opportunities perforce occurred for indulg ing his craving for originality. He arranged a dinner for a customer where the six waiters wore full armor. For another difficult client, a woman, he hired a white-washed elephant for her to ride in Fontainebleau. Supplying ant eggs for pet turtles, renting a house in Mada gascar and a temple in China, and selling a little silver statue of Hercules, attributed to Michael Angelo, for a bankrupt Italian baron were among the novel services he performed with untiring zest. Probably the task which gave him most sat isfaction was in pleasing a young lady who asked him to provide an escort for her for the theatre. She specified that he must be an American, over fifty, with a beard. Carlos Drake prevailed upon a friend, who met the requirements exactly, to do the job. The friend was Burton Holmes. The travel bureau, now in its sixth year, occupied his time and ener gies almost completely until last winter. Then he began work on a play. Wlien it was fin ished the unexpected again occurred. Instead of its passing from producer to producer, it im mediately reached Mrs. Fiske, who as promptly read it and decided that it was just the play for her. Her approval of the play was voiced in such emphatic phrases that Carlos Drake's father, who several months before had begun to produce plays at the Blackstone, decided that it would be good business as well as a gracious parental gesture to produce it this autumn. It might be expected that with his make-up, Carlos Drake would seek certain odd effects in his dress, but his short, stocky, dark figure is as correctly and soberly clothed as a bond salesman's. His springy walk, however, does attract attention and only those who know him well are not disconcerted when talking to him by his habit of looking above, beyond or through them. There is nothing about him to suggest the typical writer, nor would his ob vious virility indicate that his feeling for beauty is an absorbing passion. Although a very competent golfer, he will go to great lengths to get up a good game of croquet. He insists that he is the greatest croquet player in the world, a supremacy dis puted only by the writer of this sketch. His effervescent good humor and eagerness conceal a strain of sadness and fatalism, and of him self he says: "I am too serious, too melan choly. Like Conrad, I believe in the end 'that everything in life is common, short, and empty, and that it is in seeking the unknown in our sensations that we realize how futile are our attempts, and how soon defeated'." 34 The Chicagoan Sunday Afternoon on the Grand Jatte BY SEURAT. FIRST SHOWN IN CHICAGO BY THE ARTS CLUB IN 1919, WHERE IT WAS RIDICULED. NOW IN THE BIRCH- BARTLETT COLLEC TION AT THE ART INSTITUTE, AND VALUED AT MORE THAN HALF A MIL LION DOLLARS. COURTESY ART INSTITUTE OP How Modern Art Came to Town III. The Rise and Reign of the Arts Club of Chicago By C J. of Apples and Madoi Zastina, Robert Mantell BULLIET ims. The Courtezan Olympic!, SIMULTANEOUSLY with the Armistice, the Arts Club of Chi cago projected itself into the progressive art life of its native city. The Arts Club had been in existence for two or three years, going the mild, uneventful way art clubs are more apt than not to travel. Its membership was made up largely of local artistism, intent upon showing each other their work, drinking tea and discussing their little problems. But in the spring of 1918, there was a reorganization. Mrs. John Alden Carpenter was elected President, and Miss Alice Roullier was appointed Chairman of the Exhibition Committee — and things began to happen. The first exhibition season, under the new regime, started Novem ber 3, 1918, at galleries and club rooms at 610 South Michigan avenue. The initial show was a loan portrait exhibition, mild enough and scarcely ranking as a counter-attraction to the false Armistice jubila tion of exactly a week later or the official celebration the following day. Among the wildest painters of portraits ex hibiting were Augustus John, Orpen, Monet, Mary Cassatt, Renoir, Mancini, Martha Walter, Whistler, Z o r n, Gari Melchers and dozens even less harmful. Sargent's portrait of President Wilson was patriotically included. But Mrs. Carpenter and Miss Roullier were show ing first the velvet paw. Mrs. Carpenter is of the wealth Winterbotham family, all of them collec tors of Modern art, and herself an artist of no mean distinction. Her tal ents run to the decorative, and she has designed and The Circus by count de toulouse-lautrec. bought from the arts club's PIONEER LAUTREC SHOW FOR THE ART INSTITUTE OF CHICAGO. partially executed many lively interiors in and about Chicago. Fur thermore, she has as domestic associate that ultra advanced composer of music, John Alden Carpenter. Miss Roullier, is the daughter of the late Albert Roullier, pioneer dealer in fine prints in Chicago, and she was brought up in the wide awake art circles of this city and of her father's native France. She divides her time even yet between Chicago and Paris. Mrs. carpenter and Miss Roullier started their adventures with the Arts Club with formidable back ing of both wealth and determination. Among their strong sym pathizers in the policy they adopted — whose ingredient was fearless ness — were Arthur Aldis, Robert H. Allerton, Frederic Clay Bart- lett, Walter S. Brewster, Arthur Haun, Mrs. Russell Matthias, Miss Katherine Dudley, Charles H. Worcester, and John and Joseph Winterbotham. A plank in the platform of the reorganized club provided for the e x c 1 u s i o n of one-man shows by artist members and by artists of Chicago in general. It 'was ruled that there should be an an nual exhibition by all the professional members who cared to send in any thing, but aside from this one show, the Arts Club was to display the work of outsiders, foreign and American. After the "loan por traits," there came a show by American Modernists, which caused some annoy ance to the conservative members of the club — the club, even to this day, in its artist membership, is overwhelmingly conserva tive. A show of sculpture by the Pole, Szulkalski, October, 1931 3S Odalisque (1926) by henri matisse. in the great retrospective EXHIBITION OF PAINTINGS BY THE FRENCHMAN AT THE ARTS CLUB. followed and increased the annoyance to that group of members. But it was not until April 9 of this first exhibition season that the claws of the fair tigresses shot definitely out from the velvety paws. "French Post-Impressionists" read the catalogue title. Lie hated Cezanne led the list of names recorded alphabetically. There were two paintings of his, both landscapes. Then came Delauney with one canvas; Derain with two; Dufy with one; Matisse, scarcely less detested than Cezanne and even more feared, with eight; Picasso, whose satanism was already sensed but not yet fully realized in Chicago, with one; Rodin with three; Seurat with two; Signac with five, and Paul Vera, whose name has been lost since in the Parisian art shuffle, with one. One of the two Seurats has since become immortal in Chicago, rivaling even the great El Greco altar painting for first place among the Art Institute's treasures — Un Dimanche a la Grande- J atte . This painting, for which the Art Institute recently refused ap proximately half a million dollars from a French syndicate intent ap parently on securing it for the Louvre, where Seurat's "Le Cirque" hangs, the gift of the American John Quinn, was bought during the war years in France by the wealthy Frederic Clay Bartlett, Chicago artist, and his wife, Helen Birch Bartlett, at a price that strained their cash resources at the moment — much below the figure the French syndicate offers, but several times the figure Van Gogh once esti mated the painting to be worth. (Five thousand francs, said Van Gogh, and he thought he was being generous to his friend.) Mr. Bartlett tells with amusement how he and his wife scurried about Paris, amid the war-time pranks of the franc, seeing this banker and that, hectically raising cash on his Chicago resources to buy Bather (1885) by renoir. in the arts club's magnificent RENOIR SHOW OF LAST SEASON. Grande-Jatte, fearing all the while somebody else with money in hand would beat him to it. However, he triumphed, and brought the picture back to Chicago, where it was ridiculed not only in the Arts Club's show in 1919, but later in an Art Institute show where the Birch-Bartlett collection was displayed before the trustees could get up their courage to accept Mr. Bartlett's princely gift to the museum as a memorial to the wife who had helped him assemble it. (Grande-Jatte and the other pictures, incidentally, fared no better in New York and Boston where the collection was displayed before being permanently housed in the Chicago museum.) Exhibition of Un Dimanche a la Grande-Jatte from April 9 to April 23, 1919, may be regarded as the red letter event of the first year under leadership of Mrs. Carpenter and Miss Roullier — an event important enough in itself to justify the existence of the club. But many other sensations were to follow — so sensational that the Arts Club of Chicago became internationally famous — far and away the leader of similar American organizations that came after it. 1 o the Arts Club of Chicago be longs much of the credit of breaking down the barrier of prejudice against progressive art not only in Chicago, but in all America — New York included. For, while New York got rid much more rapid ly of its inhibitions and complexes once the break was made than Chicago — which still nurses them, thanks largely to the antiquated art policies of its newspapers of greatest circulation — it was not un til the organization in 1929 of the Museum of Modern Art that New York had anything comparable in power for art progress with the Arts Club of Chicago. But it was no bed of roses for Mrs. Carpenter and Miss Roullier. Mrs. Carpenter, though naturally suave and good--natured, stood like adamant in the storm waves angrily stirred against her and the club, while Miss Roullier clenched her little fists and went searching for a new sensation that would eclipse the one that had just gone be fore it. Paris was quick to sense the power of the new club, and artists and dealers alike showed not only willingness, but anxiety to co-operate. The Arts Club of Chicago, consequently, had the pick of Parisian "horrors." Individual New York dealers of progressive tendencies 36 The Chicagoan The Red Dress by modigliani. exhibited in the arts club show introducing this feverish MODERNIST TO CHICAGO importantly. were as quick as the Parisians, and soon the Arts Club of Chicago was enabled to bring huge shows across the Atlantic in co-operation with individual New York galleries. Generally, at first, the pictures were shown here and then passed on to New York — in later years New York and Chicago have shared priority about fifty-fifty. After the "French Post-Impressionists," the season of 1918-19 drifted to its conclusion with some progressive Americans — Joseph Stella, Hunt Diedrich and Gaston Lachaise among them. The next three seasons at 610 South Michigan witnessed the dogged determination of the "powers'" of the Arts Club — "usurpers," they were sometimes called, quite out loud — to show the new things of world art in Chicago in the face of opposition, sometimes angry, always sullen, of the club's conservative membership — and also in face of ridicule and abuse from the "critics" of the Chicago newspapers. Whenever a city editor felt he ought to have a funny "feature story" to liven up his local columns, he sent a star reporter to the Arts Club. The witty Paul Gilbert did some masterpieces. About the only newspaper friend the club had was Samuel Putnam, whose co-workers of the press considered him a bit off when it came to art. In these three seasons, Chicago was brought face to face with the Italian- American sculptor Faggi, now of Woodstock; with the Span ish painter Zuloaga (nobody at the Arts Club brags much about this achievement now) ; with the Russian painter and stage designer, Leon Bakst; with Foujita, the Japanese Parisian, who was to come back stronger in 1930-'31; with the sculptor, John Storrs, of Paris and Chicago, a more or less frequent exhibitor since; with the late Paul Thevenaz, the promising Swiss portraitist, who died untimely; with Nicholas Roerich (also a later repentance) ; with the New York go- getting painter, Walt Kuhn, and with a group of Modern Russians including Grigoriev, Zadkine and Sudeykin. Meanwhile, the Arts Club had formed a more or less unholy alliance with the Art Institute of Chi cago — an alliance that was to continue through five years of bicker ings and heart burnings on both sides. October, 1931 Marble Torso by Alexander archipenko. bought by the arts CLUB FROM THEIR FIRST SHOW OF ARCHIPENKO's SCULPTURE IN CHI CAGO, AND NOW ONE OF THE CHIEF ORNAMENTS OF THE CLUB'S GALLERIES. Director Robert B. Harshe of the institute, a progressive at heart (out on the Pacific Coast about the time of the Armory show, Mr. Harshe was showing the natives what the new art was like, and there exists a book by him published in San Francisco in 1914 called A Reader's Guide to Modern Art) was in sympathy with the aims of the Arts Club. But he reckoned without his trustees, and it was no unusual sight, during the alliance, to see him being paraded through the gallery set aside for the use of the Arts Club with a gray-haired trustee on either side of him, lamenting: "Now, Robert, this is beneath the dignity of the Art Institute," or "Robert, this thing oughtn't to hang here," or "Robert, why these insults," and the like. In the interest of diplomacy, of which he is a past-master (as all good museum directors have to be) Mr. Harshe had to protest to the adamant Mrs. Carpenter and to the fiery Miss Roullier of the little doubled-up fists. Both sides were rather glad of it when the alliance was discontinued in the spring of 1927. Nor was any great mischief wrought, for the Arts Club meanwhile had moved from its cramped quarters at 610 South Michigan to its splendid new galleries in the Wrigley Building at the Michigan avenue bridge. But during the club's tenancy of the gallery at the Art Institute set aside for its use — and in the agreement, the club was given utmost freedom of action — notable things transpired. The gallery at 610, indeed, was somewhat neglected. On Sept. 15, 1922, for instance — the club's opening show at the institute — sculpture by Bourdelle was intro- (Continued on page 62) 37 Personal Intelligence Forecasting the Gaiety of the Winter By Helen Young /% T the risk of being called a tiresome Z-X Pollyana, and an infinitive splitter be- +- -*• sides, I'd like to step right up and say, in these darkest moments before the dawn of what we are pleased to call "The Season," that the prospects of a gay winter aren't half as dreary as they -were beginning to seem. I wouldn't force that monumental confidence on you, if I hadn't been hearing such wailing as never was before on land or sea about "get ting through this awful winter." "Isn't it go ing to be a terrible season? Has anyone enough money to give a decent party? What are the poor debutantes going to do?" If there were such a thing in this whole city as a "social arbitress," in the old sense of the word, I'd quote her on the subject, and then let you decide for yourself whether it'd be worth your while to stay right here this winter, or wouldn't this be a good year to take the World Cruise? Unfortunately, or fortunately, as you choose to look at it, "social arbitresses" went out with grande dames and the more obvious type of social climbers. Now there are only two ladies who are ever spoken of by the socially unaware as "social leaders" (as with cotillion leaders, one heads a left and one a right wing) ; five or six more who care to be classed as "grand dames"; and a round half dozen of good strenuous "climb ers," who seem to do no one but themselves the least bit of harm. Barring a good Victorian social dictator, then, to do your prophesying for you, you'll have to be content with what ever analysis you can get, and for two cents I'd tell you why I think most everyone who believes parties are important, will have a pass able winter. (It may be, of course, that you're one of those rare souls who are much more apt to ask, instead of the frivolous questions several blurbs back, "Isn't it going to be a terrible winter . . . for the poor? Has anyone enough money to give a decent . . . contribution to charity? What are the poor and homeless go ing to do for food? If you are, read no further, or you'll hurl this magazine through a pane of glass, cursing even this feeble writer as you hurl.) But getting back to the more cheery note: Champagne is down fifteen dollars a case, and those who have money to buy it have their stock all in, or at least ordered, before the de mand begins to exceed the supply. I know one pair of fathers, whose debutante daughters are to have a coming out ball together, who have valiantly declared that, if it's their last stand, there will be ample champagne, at least for the grownups at their party. At the same time they are thriftily "doubling up" and splitting expenses, terrific at the very least, of a large and fashionable holiday ball. There's a good deal of that this winter, and to everyone but the hotel keepers, the florists and the mu sicians it seems the sensible thing to do. Again, there are more dinner dances than balls, this year, since one may give a dinner dance for a hundred at much less expense than a ball with supper and breakfast for five hundred. And so the Casino has reservations, most of them made last Spring, for practically every good night (meaning mostly the Friday and Saturday nights through November and December, and all the holiday nights) and business is quite as usual. The Blackstone's Crystal Ball Room will go through its almost nightly metamorphosis all through the holiday season; one night a crystal ice palace, with Walter Frazier or Arthur Heun, or possibly Mr. Holabird or Mr. Root, aided by Mr. Pausback, working out the scheme; and another a moderne setting in which yards and yards of tarlatan and sateen, mixed up with some swell lighting effects and lacquered forestry, springs right from the fer tile brain of the most original woman in town, Mrs. John Alden Carpenter . . . long may she wave! So far there are eighteen balls scheduled at the Blackstone, and believe it or not, there are three more than there were last year. But of the eighteen, six are what Mr. Stock, the maitre d'hotel calls "doublers," meaning that the fathers of two or more debutantes are split ting the cost. As far as I can see there will be just as many dinner dances, not primarily debut dinner dances — before the large balls as there were last winter or even that brilliant winter when a Crane, a Palmer, a Borden and a McCormick came out in such a burst of mag nificence as we have never seen in this simple little town of ours. Add to the regular dinner dances a host of other even smaller but equally chic parties, and you can almost hear floating ahead of you in the quiet of January, the wail of the mammas of debutantes (these same ones who thought this a bad season to bring Gwen dolyn out) as they pack up Gwennie's things to send her to a rest cure down in Florida where she can dance every night between New Years and Easter, or off to Aiken where she can tire herself out for a good night's rest after drag hunting most of the day. And so away with that heresy that it is bad taste to entertain lavishly or on a large scale or even on any scale at all when times are so hard, and there are people starving. Those who still have it can do no better than to spend some of it for parties and help the employment situation, after they've given till it hurts to charity. And those who haven't it anymore will just have to pretend they aren't entirely broke and do likewise, thereby giving daughter her chance to marry one of the three or four solvent young men of the town. These lines will hardly be cold when the Hunt Race Meeting out at Onwentsia gives the "horsey" crowd its best excuse to use its prerogatives as country gen tlemen. "The Steeplechase" itself is exciting enough, but there are always so many dinners and lunches and cocktail parties over the week end that I often wonder how many of the masculine contingent even remember anything about it when it's all over. The riders, of course, can't lunch anything like too well and not wisely, and this year that means at least thirty-nine of the members of the Hunt at Milburn, all of whom have entered their horses and will ride them in the Hunter's Trial. As for the Yale-Chicago week end, ah me, it looks almost as though a low-brow Ameri can Legion Convention 'would be no jollier than the lofty-browed Yale boys from all over would make the 16th, 17th and 18th. What they plan to do in the way of stunts at the Garrick on Saturday night after the game, they're taking over the whole musical comedy house at Girl Crazy, is to be a surprise, and equally surprising I suppose are the impromp tu entertaining they'll have at that late party after the Yale Banquet Friday night -when most of the kindred souls adjourn to the Bun galow on the roof of one of the down town hotels for a night-cap and sing. 1 0 the more quiet joys of October, add the opening of the Chicago Symphony Concert on the 16th. And con sider, too, when you're counting the economies of the rich, that not a half dozen season tick ets for the Friday concert, some of them held for a couple of generations, were turned in this bad year And there's still a long waiting list whenever anyone does want to do without the luxury of the best music in the world. Meanwhile, until the really formal season begins with the opening of opera next month, everyone seems to have whipped herself into more of a ferment than ever trying to put over with the same success of the "flush" years, her particular charity enterprise. St. Luke's Fashion Show on the 20th has at least three dozen of the town's most prominent and vigorous women hammering away at their various jobs. Mrs. I. Newton Perry, mother of one of the season's most attractive debu tantes, and Mrs. Henry Faurot, Jr., have been appointed to one of the jobs few like to take on : "giving the news to the newspapers," re quiring as it does some sense of what really makes news, and considerable tact in doling it out. Mrs. Walter Wolf has to use still more tact dealing with the fashion shops; some one else (and I imagine she 'would prefer to remain anonymous) must be responsible for asking the prettiest of the debutantes and young matrons to model, making life-long enemies of those she doesn't include. Mrs. A. Watson Armour, always one of the best, if the quietest of workers, embued with the idea that they must raise more — and yet more money for the free clinics and beds at St. Luke's, waves shares on a Nash car, donated by Mr. Charles Schweppe at fifty cents apiece, before the eyes of everyone she meets. Mrs. Schweppe and Mrs. Kersey C. Reed (Continued on page 70) 38 The Chicagoan THE FOURTH PRESBYTERIAN LATER ON FASHIONABLE WEDDING PARTIES WILL THRONG ITS STORIED VASTNESSES. TODAY OCTOBER'S SUN SPREADS AN OLD-WORLD CALM OVER ITS CLASSIC OUTLINE, A REASSURING NOTE IN A METROPOLITAN MEDLEY ALL TOO BRASH FOR UNMIXED APPRECIATION. BRIDES OF THE SUMMERTIME MRS. WILLIAM THOMPSON LUSK, WHO WAS KATHERINE ADAMS, DAUGHTER OF MR. AND MRS. CUTHBERT C. ADAMS. MRS. JAMES ROLAND ADDINGTON, WHO WAS SARAH WOOD, DAUGHTER OF GENERAL AND MRS. ROBERT F. WOOD. mmm mm MRS. DEWEY LOCKWOOD PIERCE, WHO WAS LESLIE THORNE, DAUGHTER OF MR. AND MRS. CHARLES HALLETT THORNE. MRS. WALTER FIELD MC LALLEN III, WHO WAS MARGUERITE WATSON, DAUGHTER OF MRS. WALTER WOLF. 40 The Chicagoan IN THE SOCIAL LIMELIGHT MRS. JONATHAN SCOTT DOW, WHO WAS LOUISE BADGEROW, DAUGHTER OF MR. AND MRS. HARVE G. BADGEROW. MRS. BYRON HARVEY, JR., WHO WAS KATHLEEN WHITCOMB, DAUGHTER OF MR. AND MRS. W1ILLIAM CARD WHITCOMB. COUNTESS RUGGERS DE MODRONE, WHO WAS EDITH FAIRBANKS, DAUGHTER OF MR. AND MRS. WARREN C. FAIRBANKS. MRS. WILLIAM GRAHAM, WHO WAS JANE LEE, DAUGHTER OF MR. AND MRS. T. GEORGE LEE. IIOTOIIRAPIIS October, 1931 41 SAKS - F I F 1 CHIC The most famous shoe in the world . . Saks-Fifth Avenue's Fenton Opera Pump. In patent leather, black calf, black or brown suede, brown or blue kid. Complete with a new buckle. 12.50 The Fenton Walking Pump with the built-up leather heel. In blackorbrown suede, combined with calf. 12.50 Sewn shoes of black reindeer — a beautiful imported leather that has formerly been used only in the most exclusive custom-made footwear — and never before featured at this new low price. Pumps or oxfords. The aristocratic Marquise pump with delicate trimming at the instep and medium-high heel. In black or brown suede combined with lizard. 14.00 Our Town-and-Country Fenton in alli gator leather, with built-up leather heel. Note the new alligator shades . . green, blue, russet, taffy; also black and brown. 15.50 Madam, you have a shoe problem th false economy . . .When next you bt if it is a "pasted" or sewn model. If yoi man will reply promptly (and truthfull not a pasted shoe in our stocks . . . Ev shoe, made by a master craftsman. more comfortable. And cost no m ASK YOUR SHOE SALESMAN, WHEN "Are these shoes sewn shoes together?" For of course ) North Michigo 42 The Chicagoan H AV E N U AGO This decorative Fenton Sandal with its cross-strap, comes in black or brown suede, also in kid with insert of lizard. 12.50 Study of Dominic de Liso, for merly custom shoemaker to the Queen of Italy (who bestowed a medal on him for his fine crafts manship), at work on a pair of sewn shoes for Saks-Fifth Avenue. >** is Fall . . ."Pasted" Sole Shoes are a y a pair of shoes, ask your salesman t are at Saks-Fifth Avenue your sales- y) that it is entirely sewn, for there is ery Saks-Fifth Avenue Shoe is a sewn They are flexible, wear better, are ore than pasted shoes elsewhere. SELECTING YOUR FALL FOOTWEAR: , or are they merely pasted ou want only sewn shoes. n at Chestnut One of the new decorated Fenton Pumps, in black, brown or green suede, combined with matching pin- seal. Also in patent leather, matt kid. 14.00 Avery interesting new Fenton Sandal with its forepart striped with tiny bands of matching colour braid. In black, brown or green suede. 15.50 A tailored Fenton shoe which is ad mirable forwalking purposes. In black or brown lizard with built-up leather heel. 15.50 The Fenton Broadmoor Oxford . . so perfect to wear with fall street cos tumes. In black or brown lizard com bined with calf. With built-up leather heel. 15.50 October, 1931 43 THE NATIONAL AMATEUR BILLY HOWELL AND FRANCIS OUIMET ON THE FIFTH GREEN DURING THE SEMI-FINALS. ROBERT TYRE JONES, JR., THE RETIRED KING OF THEM ALL. IN THE DISTANCE, THE TEE OF THE WATER HOLE, THE SHORT BUT TREACHEROUS TWELFTH. 44 The Chicagoan AT BEVERLY COUNTRY CLUB MAURICE MCCARTHY, SEMI-FINALIST, LINING UP HIS PUTT ON THE TWELFTH GREEN. OUIMET PREPARING TO PUTT ON THE SEVENTH DURING HIS SEMI-FINAL ROUND WITH HOWELL. October, 1931 FRANCIS OUIMET, WINNER, AND JACK WESTLAND, RUNNER-UP. CHICAGOAN PHOTOGRAPHS 45 PRIZE-WINNING CHICAGOANS CHICAGOAN CLEO LUCAS CHICAGOA* GEORGE DILLON Two spring prizes find their echo in the autumn's boo\s. George Dillon of the University of Chi cago poetry society and former associate editor of Poetry, winner of the first Foundation for Liter ature prize for poetry, awarded him at a dinner which too\ place on Shakespeare's birthday last, is author of a second boo\ of poems, The Flowering Stone, after an interval of four years. While Cleo Lucas, also of Chicago, though at the moment of Hollywood, very young winner of the Col lege Humor prize for a novel by an author not more than a year out of college, now offers in boo\ form for such readers as abhor a serial, I Jerry Take Thee Joan. 46 The Chicagoan The Books of September Chicagoans Seem to Win Prizes B y Susan W i l b u r NO, this isn't a safe year for financial, or literary, predictions. Nonetheless, I am about to make one that is both. I hereby predict that George Dillon's new book of poems, The Flowering Stone, will have a minimum initial sale of one thousand copies. To go back to last April. It was a good poem. So good that even those members of the Chicago Foundation for Literature who had never before heard of George Dillon set tled back content that Harriet Monroe's com mittee had got their prize to the right man. But it was also a new poem. So new that it hadn't been typed or anything. Or, as most of the thousand remarked to Mr. Dillon after wards: what if you should fall out of your taxicab on the way home. Far be it from me, however, to spoil my own prediction by telling those anxious founders whether that poem is or is not at present secure between covers. It is easy to say, just flatly, that, prizes or no prizes, Mr. Dillon is a real poet. Real poets being defined as those who write like Shelley and Keats to the extent of not writing like them. But it is harder to say exactly what those exquisite lines of his do to you. A. E. Housman, for example, takes the stand that golden boys and girls all must as chimney sweepers come to dust. While George Dillon says, in a way, the opposite. He writes of moments pinned down and made permanent. Of stars that would not exist as stars were it not for the human eye. And yet somehow this apparently optimistic manner of dealing with love and astronomy seems to sweep things even more wistfully beyond hope than Housman's pessimism. Incidentally, Mr. Dil lon's freshness of approach is particular as well as general. September Moon, for example, un doubtedly stands alone among moon poems. As a study in contem porary human nature, 1931 model, Bohemian, The Wanton Way, by Norah C. James, is as realistic as Ernest Hemingway, or to put it more strongly, as Miss James herself. Its pic ture of a group of middling young London artists and writers who drink rot-gut together at the Sword as at a speak-easy, and, journey ing to Berlin explore sections of night life that are probably not in the guide books, who make muddles of their marriages modernly and straighten them out ditto, though satiric gives at the same time the effect of being literal. While The Story of Julian, by Susan Ertz fills in, with equal realism, the matrimonial vagaries of the Bohemian generation just older, and the tangles thereby caused to their nice, naturally minded children, just younger. Realism is on the contrary not primary to the Chicago novel that one somehow thinks of alongside these London ones. Namely I Jerry Ta\e thee Joan, the story that won Cleo Lucas this year's College Humor prize. The million aires and the newspaper office are, at least so far as my own humble experience takes me, pure fairytale. But at the center of it is a study of the course of true love which really gets you. The marriage of this little million airess and her happy go lucky gin drinking newspaper man is more than a mesalliance: it possesses on its own scale the fatality of medieval romance. Magic forgetting potions haven't anything on gin. Incidentally, Miss Lucas has made as authentic a contribution as Carl Van Vechten or anybody to the literature of prohibition. And while we're on the subject of prizes, it seems that Chicago also came within an inch of winning the Harper prize that we were talk ing about last month. In fact there are still those who think we ought to have had that too. The Opening of a Door, by George Davis, one of Chicago's Paris colony, is un doubtedly a remarkable book. I once heard Ben Hecht discuss at some length whether the fact that a woman is married is a sign that she must at some moment of her life have been pretty. To have chosen the MacDougall family to write about is in a sense like marry ing a woman who never was. But it may be this very lack of intrinsic appeal that makes them such excellent models. The multiplying of books about Hispanic America is symptomatic. Says Mary Austin. But symptom or no symptom, the multiplying of books is, as we ourselves remarked last month, most certainly a fact. To continue, there is Stuart Chase's Mexico, which calls itself A Study in Two Americas. And a really serious minded person might of course read it as just that. A comparison between the Mexican craft village as anthro pologically investigated by our fellow towns man Robert Redfield, and the machine age village of Middletown as investigated by other lcarned authors. Tepotzlan treats the depres sion as purely theoretical. Personally, how ever, I read it for its splashes of manana land color and for its travellers' tales. These things are likewise the mainspring of interest in Susan Smith's novel The Glories of Venus, where one character is, conveniently, a promiscuous shop per for everything from toys and death masks to villas. The Mexican color extends however beyond art objects and scenery. That is, the North American heroine is not immune to the amorous urge of southern stars, nor do all her friends escape stray political bullets. But to return to this business of predicting. It will not, I think, be another biography season. Though it may go through some of the motions. There is of course a new Andre Maurois. But instead of being about any of our own national heroes, it is about a sort of French Leonard Wood: to be perfectly frank, did you ever hear of General Lyautey before? And the new Lytton Strachey is short lengths. Though the chances are that if you settle down to Portraits in Miniature you will find in its saliences about forgotten French and British worthies the quintessence of the Stracheyan method. While The Story of the Princess Elizabeth by Anne Ring is less to be recom mended as biography than on practical grounds specifically to parents of non-royal five-year- olds. In royal circles, that is, as in non-royal, the question of picking up bad language arises. Once the Princess Elizabeth picked up a ter rible expression. She was heard saying "My goodness!" See page 94 for what her mother did about it. Sequels, or near sequels, have bulked large throughout September. There was Tears of Plenty, by the ex-Duchesse de Clermont- Tonnerre, who first wrote Pomp and Circum stance. Most charming of Victorian memoirs: due no doubt to the fact that they orient from Paris. Glimpses of the days when great states men talked things over with beautiful ladies, when Boni de Castellane was married to Anna Gould, and when Marcel Proust sometimes wandered vaguely into a drawing room. Finch's Fortune, third section of Mazo de la Roche's Jalna trilogy, tells of a big party on Finch's twenty-first birthday: real Jalna hos pitality. Now what will Finch do with his hundred thousand? What he does do almost makes it look as though grandma Whiteoak had been all-wise instead of capricious. Judith Paris is Bogue Herries' daughter. And All Passion Spent by Virginia Sackville West comes as a pretty echo of The Edwardians. Lord Slane, former viceroy to India, dies in harness at the age of 94. What Lady Slane, aged 87, then does is a fantasy of old age, like Hugh Walpole's The Old Ladies, but compact of poetry and observation and having import ance as the epitome of an era. 1 wo further ripples, so to speak, have been added to Evelyn Scott's Wave. In The Border, Dagmar Doneghy writes a geographically new Civil War story. Beginning with an incident which serves to re mind us of what Uncle Tom's Cabin was all about, she proceeds to tell the brave tale of a slave owning family who lived in Missouri near the border of Kansas. It is doubtful if any description of Waterloo could make war more actual than these domestic vicissitudes from a tract of country where no famous battles were fought. With Caroline Gordon on the other hand the Civil War is simply the necessary middle to her hundred years ago of Penhally, a mansion in Tennessee, and of those who enacted their sharp tragedies in it. In other words, the usual gallant, and pathetic, confederate view. The moral of Red Headed Woman by Katharine Brush is that it's harder to burst into small town society than to marry a pent house, and all that goes with it, in New York. The picture of a tight, agreeable little moneyed crowd in a small town, and of what they do when a stenographer finesses herself to one of their husbands is the berries, and no real woman will fail to appreciate the way Miss Brush lays her scorn upon this girl torn between good looks and movie morals. October, 1931 47 Celluloid Temperament A Three-Sided View of a Many-Sided Subject B y W illi a m R . VV e a v k k "fT^EMPERAMENT," Karson was say- I ing, "went out with silent pictures. -*- The New York studios — I'm less sure about Hollywood — are calm as a Shubert re hearsal. Nobody's torn up a contract in years." "Did anyone, ever?" Jordan, scarce long enough from Hamburg to take America at its lip value, wanted to know. "They did in the old days," Karson an swered, "when they had the public eye-drunk and a broken contract was good for a million fan letters. It's different since dialogue came in." "But that wasn't temperament," I put in, "that was publicity — showmanship in the per sonal sense — a genuinely temperamental per son, Lupe Velez for instance, would have been incapable of it." "Miss Velez isn't temperamental," Karson said, I thought a little warmly. "If she isn't no one is," I argued, having seen the lady in two personal-appearance en gagements and located the nearest exit on both occasions. "She isn't," he repeated flatly, "I've just completed a portrait of her and I've never had a better subject." "She photographs well," Jordan commented. "I mean as a sitter," Karson explained. "I didn't know she sat," I said. "She leaped, galloped, ran up and down the aisles, at the Palace, but nary a sit. . . ." "What I started to say," Karson started to say again, "is that nowadays, with Ruth Chat- tertons and Ann Hardings swarming the lots, the movie girls and boys are so busy trying to live up to stage standards that they haven't time to go hay-wire." "Up?" This from Jordan. "Like an anchor," I told him. "Up is what I said," Karson repeated. "The stage is an ancient institution, grounded in traditions inflexible as. ..." "If it gets just a little more ancient," I in terrupted, "it won't be grounded in anything." "Now, now — no temperament," Jordan cautioned, ending that. Karson edged his chair closer to the table, regarded Jordan and me in turn and not very hopefully, then began again. "My point was, in the beginning, that tem perament is, in its exact meaning, a given in dividual's quality of disposition, his degree of intensity in reaction to life, to circumstance, to other individuals, and not at all the silly thing it's been painted — by writers." "And my point," I said, "was that your point was well enough taken, still is for that matter, and yet had no bearing whatever upon the thing we were talking about — was it Garbo's retreat? — or was it your having gone Broadway?" "You were saying,'" Jordan intervened, "that Miss Garbo's retirement into personal privacy, her refusal to grant interviews and so forth, was so ill advised at this time, on ac count of Miss Dietrich's rising popularity, that you were at last persuaded to believe she is genuinely temperamental." "Precisely," Karson affirmed, "and doesn't your conclusion verify my definition perfectly?" "It does not." "Why?" "By your definition," I said, "Garbo's be haviour under stress of this competition would prove her a placid, shallow, unresisting Swed ish gal without a brain in her head nor an ambition to her name. You know as well as I do that she isn't any of those things — except Swedish — or she couldn't have gotten where she is." "Oh, yes she could," said Karson. "Chaplin did, and a more sensitive soul never lived." "A different case entirely," I said. "Certainly," he agreed, "every case is dif ferent, just as every temperament is different, yours, mine, Jordan's, everybody's." "In my case, now that you've mentioned it," Jordan said, "another cup of coffee wouldn't do any harm." He ordered it. We took the same. "Now suppose you stick to the Garbo case, so we can get it settled before they close this place." I asked Karson wheth er he had done a portrait of Garbo. He had not. He'd done Esther Ralston, Ethel Barry- more, Texas Guinan several times, the four Marx brothers singly and in groups, Paul Whiteman at various weights, but not Garbo. But he'd made a Garbo mask— maybe I haven't told you that Karson's veins carry theatre in stead of blood and he's been doing these things forever — and he'd like us to see it. We did, eventually, and Jordan photographed it. There it is, on that page yonder. But that was later. The coffee at hand, we returned to what re mained of our interest in temperament. Karson said "I suppose you know the Garbo story." I said, "I know three Garbo stories — no, four, counting the printed one — but there's nothing in any of them to explain her ostrich like defense against Dietrich." "Maybe she doesn't care," Jordan suggested. "Temperament would explain that," I said. "But she does care," Karson declared. "She hasn't quit making pictures." "Temperament could explain that, too," I said. "Certainly it could," said Karson. "It does explain it. Temperament influences every thing we do, guides every decision, shades every thought — temperament explains every thing." "And you say temperament went out with the silent pictures," I reminded him. "That leaves it all in quite a mess, doesn't it?" "A good place to leave it," said Jordan, who cares almost tcxi little about movies to be the skilled photographer he is, "you fellows are too temperamental to argue, anyway." "I'm not!" This was a duet and Jordan ducked. I\T this point the conver sation became personal, hence a little confused. I told Jordan that Karson, being an artist, could hardly be expected to discuss temperament in the abstract. Karson told Jordan what I was and what of it in terms even less mistakable. This went on for some time. Then Jordan re membered the Garbo mask and asked where it was. Karson said it was at Sandor's studio, which is in the Auditorium Tower and used to be Frank Lloyd Wright's, and oughtn't we to go over and see it. Here was something we could agree upon and we did, stopping at Jordan's for his camera. We talked about traffic, about taxicabs, about all kinds of inanimate and perforce un- temperamental objects that passed the cab win dow. We came finally into sight of the oddly desolate pile that is the Auditorium and in some way seems still to stand for something very basic, important and indispensable in Chicago culture. Maybe we all thought a little about this, or maybe we had merely run down, conversationally. At any rate, we silently dismissed the driver and as silently crossed the sidewalk and entered the aban doned temple of temperament that was temperament. "Motion," I said, as the elevator that has carried a million operagoers took us up, "is good for debate." "Better than emotion," said Karson, who agrees with Ashton Stevens about puns. "What I mean," I explained, "is that the ride over here, and now up, makes all that argument about temperament seem pretty re mote and unimportant, doesn't it?" "That wasn't really an argument," Karson said. "You know what I mean by tempera ment, and I know what you mean, and if either of us had it we'd never have gotten on to gether as we have all these years." "Precisely what I was thinking," I said, "and, between us, Garbo hasn't got it either, or she'd walk off of the lot tomorrow." "Sure." We bumped along past a few floors in si lence — a relative term in that historic lift — and then Karson backed me into a corner to ask if Jordan were susceptible to suggestion in his photography. I told him hell yes. When Jordan inquired whether Karson was hard to please I told him hell no. Arrived finally at Sandor's door, I cautioned them against too warmly praising the superb Sandor Lincoln that Sandor considers immature and, crossing my fingers, left them. I gather from Jordan's reproduction of Karson's mask that Sandor persuaded them to my way of thinking about Garbo after all. 48 The Chicagoan Cinema Market RESUME: Bears had con trol save for fleeting flur ries; bull movements lacked confidence; up turn predicted. Quota tions: — • THE SQUAW MAN Warner Baxter in top form 90 MONKEY BUSINESS The Marx Brothers' best 95 THE STAR WITNESS Walter Huston and Chic Sale get their man 80 MY sin — Talullah Bankhead goes straight 80 bought — Constance Bennett ditto 40 THIS MODERN AGE Joan Crawford ditto 20 CONFESSIONS OF A CO - E D — A penny thriller 1 THE LAST FLIGHT Richard Barthel- mess in a real war picture 98 FIFTY FATHOMS DEEP — The Holt-Graves controversy, under- seas 88 STREET SCENE The year's best picture. 100 EAST OF BORNEO White Cargo, Green Goddess, etc 30 THE RUNAROUND Light comedy in color 79 high stakes — Deep- dyed villainy dyed deep 68 CAUGHT PLASTERED — T he Woolsey- Wheeler humor in form 85 WATERLOO BRIDGE A much abridged version 50 the spider — Edmund Lowe at black magic 77 daughter of the DRAGON — Curtains for Fu Manchu 9 SILENCE — William Powell comes through 84 LA GARBO — A KARSON MASK The Garbo temperament, subject of a somewhat extended discussion faithfully set down on the page facing, is brought out in relief and bac\ground achieved by J\[at Karson and brought to metal, thence to paper, via the veracious lens of Henry C. Jordan. October, 1931 49 SAN FRANCISCO BAY, THAT WORLD-FAMOUS SPAN OF CALM WATER, WITH THE S.S. VIRGINIA GOING OUT TO SEA, VIEWED FROM THE HEIGHTS OF TELEGRAPH HILL. LOVELY MONTEREY BAY AND THE STRETCH OF BEAUTIFUL SHORE LINE GLIMPSED FROM ONE OF THE SCENIC DRIVES THROUGH THE DEL MONTE CYPRESS FORESTS. 50 The Chicagoan Along t h Keels A GROUP of us one evening were assisting at the rite of the unpacking of the boat, k always one of the most pleasurable oc cupations of returned travelers. In this instance it was the collection of a bride who had just finished a tour of the Orient and feminine hearts were falling right and left before the array of glowing Peking glass, Canton, jade and brass and linen and lace. The bride gloat ed mildly but suddenly remembering, with a pretty gesture she turned to an admiral's widow who was smiling reminiscently in the group. "But this probably looks pretty infantile compared to your collection, Mrs. A — " she exclaimed. "In your years all over the world you must have collected some priceless things." "Well, of course, I did," the dowager an swered slowly, "Lovely things. But what I value most out of all my travel years, are the memories I collected." And that seems to me the quintessence of travel. Memory collecting is a delightful oc cupation and much easier than object collect ing. You can collect memories anywhere, but somewhere in everyone's kit should be a sizable space for California memories. One can't help agreeing with the native sons out there, that there's no other place so lavish of beauty and cheer as every spot up and down this coast. The only trouble is that one wants to start and end one's collection here, it's that hard to tear oneself away. You give yourself ample time — it seems ample in the east- — so many days in Los Angeles, a week-end in Santa Barbara, so much time on the Monterey Peninsula, a spell in San Francisco, but it's all too little. Each spot grips you firmly and it seems rank insan ity to bother about ever going anywhere else. Even a short stay, how ever, will permit of quite a kit-full of mem ories. There is that flashing one of the Mon terey coast. By any light — morning, noon or night — it is sheer beauty. The soft roll of the Pacific is a soothing undertone, the waves pile over each other to crash on pure white sand or shoot high in hissing spray against the rocky teeth of Point Lobos. In the clear morning it's all blue-green and darling white but no one should miss it at sunset, in the unearthly after-glow that spreads over beaches and sea after the copper sun has dropped into the ocean. Certainly the Seventeen Mile Drive along this coast and through the redolent cy press woods ranks with the great roads of the world. Every curve is rich with some new vista, low-flung cypresses silhouetted against the sky, seals slithering off a rock, Spanish- balconied houses sheltered by old adobe walls, a glimpse of a sunlit valley rolling gently to wards the circling mountains, the velvet fair ways and greens of one of the clubs. Those clubs, those clubs! Every course on the Peninsula has an interest of its own but e F 1 o w e and Seals in Sun and * By Lucia Lewis they all unite in forming the most stimulating group of golf courses anywhere. Visitors at Del Monte Hotel, for instance, play either Del Monte or Pebble Beach. Del Monte is a good one on which to start. Right off the hotel grounds it is beautifully laid out and interesting, though not quite so sporty as the others. After a few rounds on this you may feel strong enough to attack Pebble Beach. Scene of many famous tournaments this course offers interest for every shot. Its most famous hole summons all the hidden curses in one's lungs, but one keeps going back for more and more punishment. Teeing off a high cliff a good drive brings one to the jumping off spot. From here the brave golfer drives off across an arm of the Pacific which bites into the fair way. A lucky shot brings him to the green on the other side for a par four; an unlucky one plops his ball into the ocean. Timid souls may encircle the arm of the sea but they'll never break par that way so none of them resists the water hole forever. At the Cypress Point club one either learns to correct a hook or a slice or ends in a breaking-of-clubs-across-the- knee tourney. The fairways here are slim and fanciful, so fanciful that heaven help the golfer who drives not a straight ball. Here, also, are two ocean holes where one is com pelled to shoot across Pacific inlets or kiss one's Kroflite good-bye. Monterey Peninsula club has a historic course which is also a challenge. In fact any golfer could settle down here forever in a grim but delighted determination to conquer these four courses. The beauty of all Cali fornia golfing is that one may indulge every day of the year. In winter and spring the greens and fairways are particularly lush and green and in the dry days of summer and fall these four Peninsula courses are main tained in glorious condition. Del Monte itself, of course, offers dozens of attractions other than golf. For a complete rest it is a perfect spot, set deep in its wooded grounds, with rooms opening on the sparkling swimming pool, others facing a serene lily pond, a lazy-ing terrace hanging over a glow ing garden, serene beauty at every turn. And for the gay there are always dances or races or steeple chases or polo matches or half a dozen other excitements. Monterey, the oldest town in the group, is a fascinating study for the historical minded. Here are authentic adobe houses and old Spanish homes, some of them beautifully re stored as modern residences, the old fisheries and the Presidio. Again different in its own charm is the third member — Carmel. En chanting Spanish houses and gardens and patios flower up and down the tree-shaded lanes which twist and turn so that almost every y Coast ray angle affords a glimpse of shining ocean or rolling valley. Carmel by-the-Sea has attract ed many noted artists, writers and poets, as well as plutocrats and the colony is one of the most interesting as well as naturally beautiful. Its shops climbing up and down the hilly streets are rich in curios, antiques, hand- wrought potteries and decorative objects — not the tourist-y kind at all but genuinely beauti ful and unusual. But these are not the only memory-gathering spots. There are drives over the winding slopes of the Santa Cruz mountains, with the trunks of redwoods like dull copper among the pines and cypress and pools of sunshine lying along the road where the trees open to the views of green peaks and golden valleys. This gold lingers softly over the yellowing walls of the old missions. There's a road up from Carmel which brings one in a couple of hours to a famous one — the Mission of San Juan Bautista — whose graceful arches and quiet old gardens have been sketched and painted by nearly every artist who has visited the coast. The whole quiet town breathes early California with the ancient adobe homes clustered about the plaza and the Mission hovering over all. In 1797 the Mission was founded and in the quarter century that fol lowed the homes about the plaza were built, the villa of General Castro, Commandante- General and a Mexican governor of Alta, Cali fornia, the quaint adobe Plaza Hotel, and other buildings which still sleep about the old square. It was here that Helen Hunt Jackson gathered most of the material for Ramona and the place today is much as she described it, ex cept for the random remarks and signatures of the Tonys, the Babes, and the Maggies who must travel about the world apparently just to carve their names on monuments and trees. A few hundred miles to the north the Sonoma Mission of San Francis co de Solano lies close to another much-written- of section. This is Jack London's Valley of the Moon, as gently rolling and colorful as he described it, with his ranch still presided over by Mrs. London. The Sonoma Mission Inn is an attractive, spacious hostelry, an ideal spot. One of the loveliest of the small missions is right in the heart of San Franciso itself. The quiet little graveyard of Dolores Mission deserves a corner in any memory. A hundred varieties of flowers drench the air with a fresh, tantalizing fragrance and fill the place with misty violet, flaming purples, sweet pinks. Under all this the headstones tell their simple little stories of pioneer brides who came around the Horn and died with their infant sons, of fighters, of Spanish governors, and old padres. Across the city the famous Presidio houses modern fighters but carries the flavor of the days when it was a Spanish fort, some of the old walls and cannon emplacements still peer ing watchfully over the Golden Gate. October, 1931 51 NAME-SAKE OF A WHITE CLOUD, A ' YOUNG BRAVE PUTS HIMSELF THROUGH HOOPS WITH VELOCITY UNMATCHED BY VAUDEVILLE'S BIGGEST BIG SHOTS. V~ O* WINNEBAGOS TREAD THE VICIOUS, BUT HIGHLY SOCIAL CIRCLE OF THE. SNAKE WHOSE MOTTO WAS, "NEVER SAY DIE." ANACHRONISTIC ORATOR, LITTLE MOOSE, READS LEW SARETT'S POEMS TO PALE FACES. Indian Dance At Stand Roc^ Amphitheatre in the Dells of W^isconsin, Winnebago, Hopi, Pueblo, and Chippewa Indians gather each summer to revive their ancient tribal dances and songs. Chicagoans who re' sist a trip to the fiestas in "Hew Mexico, ride up the Wisconsin River by moon light to the Ceremonial in the roc\y glen, where one hundred American Indians produce an all American show. THE HOPI VOTED WET, MADE EXQUISITE DRY PAINTINGS ON THE SAND, AND PRAYED PROFOUNDLY FOR RAIN AND CORN. 52 The Chicagoan Black Tights The Story of a Poet-Dancer By Mark Turbyfill VERA MIROVA, WHO WILL APPEAR IN A PROGRAM OF ORIENTAL AND MODERN DANCES AT THE PLAYHOUSE, NOVEMBER 8. WHEN he was a little boy he saw girls dancing in the shows. They looked like large bisque dolls. Their calves and knees were always very round and very smooth, because they wore shiny pink tights. You could see their knees and their plump thighs because the skirts they wore were only as long as a wide ruffle. The upper part of the doll's dress was a billowy blouse which was made to drop as low as the trunk would allow. There was a large bow at the back, and another on the hair. There were black patent leather shoes with low heels and a plain black strap over the instep. Little white socks stood out sharply against the bright pink tights and reached to just under the small, bulging calves. To dance was to make yourself, as much as you could, like a bisque doll. He never saw any bisque boy dolls, but neverthe less he wanted to dance. The thought of the doll's costume did not trouble him. It was a great change when later he saw the dance in terms of tall and womanly figures. Now they were bare foot, and were draped with veils, and called their dances, The Dance of Salome. At last when he had grown too large to wish to look like a bisque doll, he saw men dancing. They wore black slippers with soft soles, white tights, and short, black velvet coats. Volumi nous white sleeves flowed from the shoulders of the jackets. The men leapt high into the air, rending it apart with their legs like the blades of a jack-knife. They spun around on one foot many times like tops. They sprang from the floor with both feet, and beat their calves together so rapidly that they seemed to send off sparks. To dance now it was not necessary to have the clothes of a doll. He began to jump and to leap into the air as high as he could. He tried to beat his calves swiftly together. Then he read stories of great Russian dancers who held the world in a spell. They had learned to defy the laws of gravity, the stories said. There was one young man who could leap into the air and fly like a bird, or spring from the earth like a deer. Again the Russian danc ers came. He saw her who, they said, was greater even than Taglioni. She was a slender tree, burdened with snow-flowers. She ¦was an enchanted swan. Some times the men lifted her high into the air, and then she too made her calves sparkle before they set her softly down. One man danced and stretched himself out like a long, tawny leopard. The time passed and he was no longer a little boy, but a youth. Then he heard that a great Russian dancer had come to the city to open a school. The man's name rang familiarly in his ear. Could it be that he was the dancer whose Persian attitudes had haunted him with their strange and beautiful balance? Was it possible that that dancer whom he had watched from so far away in the gallery — so far away that the dance seemed like beauty dreamed of, or imagined — was it possible that he could become his teacher? His heart beat faster. He saw himself springing from the earth like a deer, stretching his arms and legs like a tawny leopard. His body longed desperately to dance. His mind did not wait, but leapt into motion. His body and his feelings were painfully alive. Life began to show itself to him in the form of a dance. Leaping ahead, his mind made poem- dances. He began to feel poems in his arms and legs and in sudden turns of his head. Sometimes he would let his body run, or leap, or fall swiftly to the ground; and sometimes, out of the corner of his eye, he would see it running, or leaping, or falling, and it was then he could catch glimpses of the poems. If he saw it clearly enough, he found the words. It was very strange, but poems had bodies. This was the way poems got born. The dance- bodies of poems were somehow inherent in let ters and words. He had a job drawing and cutting out letters and words for steel perforating machines. If he spent over half of the money he made he could take ballet lessons each week. He could learn the secrets of the Russian dancers. It was possible now to become a pupil of that thrilling dancer he had watched from the gallery. He bought a pair of thick, black, woolen tights, and a pair of black slippers with soft soles. He wore a white shirt. There was no place for the shirt-tail, and he had to put on over the woolen tights a pair of swimming trunks in which to tuck it. The outfit made him feel heavy and stuffed. Around the walls of the studio were wooden bars. While standing on one leg you had to lift the other up to the bar, and slide it back and forth. His teacher smiled like a boy, and said in a Russian accent, "Tomorrow you be very stiff." Then he told him about the "five positions." You had to become "turned out." The first position required you to stand -with heels tight ly together, and with your toes turned sharply to opposite sides of the room. In all of the positions you forced your feet to the sides, never allowing them to go naturally straight ahead. The practice of the five positions was fascinating, and seemed to hold a secret not shared by those in the ordinary world. While working at the bar you had to keep both knees very stiff. Numberless times you had to place your feet tightly together in fifth position, then reach forward on the floor with a severely pointed toe. You must not forget one thing while doing another: knees must never relax, chest must not sink, toes must be pointed in one direction, heels another. The teacher stooped to the floor and took his pupil's foot in a strong grasp. He rounded the arch, pressed the toes down, the heel up and sidewise, molding the foot into a perfect position. "Very good, now. You must keep foot like thees," said the dancer. He felt that his teacher had forced into his foot a secret that he would never forget. He felt unworthy and almost ashamed that one so great had taken so much trouble to help him. Then they moved away from the bar, out into the center of the room. He was to be given a first step. He was sure he looked awkward and alarmed. The young man with oily black hair who played for the lesson, peered around the corner of the piano and grinned. After a time he was chosen for a place in the Opera corps de ballet. Aphrodite was announced for the opening performance. The ballet master smiled know ingly, and told the boys and girls that the story was a wanton one. It was a daring thing to produce. The Opera Company had arranged for extra police protection. The dancers must throw themselves into the extravagant and ex uberant mood of the piece. They must not fail to gratify the anticipations of the audience. They would have to tan and whiten their bodies carefully and completely. The dress rehearsal was (Turn to page 80) October, 1931 53 AMONG THE NEW ACCESSORIES STEVENS OFFERS NATURAL WOOD BEADS OF OPERA AND CHOKER LENGTH WITH EAR-RINGS TO MATCH, AND A THREE-STRAND, SIDE-CLASP NECKLACE OF GOLD CHAIN WITH A GENUINE ONYX CAMEO AND BRACE LET TO MATCH. SMART BROWN SUEDE AND BROWN CALFSKIN SHOES AND HANDBAG; FROM I. MILLER. CAPESKIN GLOVES WITH WHITE STITCHING ARE THE LATEST FROM SAK'S; THEY MAY BE HAD IN BLACK, BROWN AND NAVY. ANOTHER I. MILLER CREATION IS THE SET OF SUEDE PUMPS AND SUEDE HANDBAG TRIMMED WITH SILVER BAND. RODIER WOOL CREPE SUIT WITH A RUSSIAN CARACUL TRIMMED JACKET AND BELT WITH A MARQUISITE BUCKLE. THE HAT AND HANDBAG, AS WELL AS THE SUIT, ARE FROM BLUM'S NORTH SIDE. 54 The Chicagoan Autumnal Wraps and Accessories The Touch That Makes Them New By The Chicagoenne ONE fiddles along in August and Septem ber, studying the new lines and fabrics and orientating one's fashion sense to the season but there's no feeling quite so happy as the shopping flair one gets with the first crisp days of October. Then the fall clothes seem suddenly just right, coats, dresses, hats and accessories snap into line and the whole ensemble becomes perfectly rounded to face the football games, the tea dances and debuts, the opera and all the glittering show that makes a city winter. Shops seem more sure in their choices and shoppers have learned to adjust themselves to the glowing colors, to wear their hats with the right aplomb, and to select the finishing touches that make the smart woman. So it's a pleasant adventure to swirl one self into the new coats and wraps and look towards a stroll down the Boulevard or a state ly drifting through the lobby of an opening night. 1931 coats will be easy to spot along the avenue because of their lines and particu larly because of their fabrics. While after noons and formal affairs are characterized by sleek, lustrous fabrics such as broadcloth, soft duvetyn and velvets, velvets, velvets, the street coats are extremely swagger in roughish ma terials. The rusty reds and browns, the woodsy greens are everywhere but do they down our old friend black? Not for a minute. Black slides into the picture by way of attrac tive little black checks on green, by flecks on red, and rides supreme in lovely all-black woolens which, because of their weave, are as new as though we had not been wearing black these many years. Jacques has some very in teresting black street coats in these roughish materials; they are rough in surface, though not shaggy, but extremely supple so that they carry out the fitted feeling of the season. With collars of silver fox or of that heavenly flat tering blue fox they promise to be among the year's champions. The new North Michigan shop of Blum's- Vogue features an attractive new tweed crepe for coats which embodies the pleasant sporty flavor of tweed and the soft lines of crepe. One in black is a stunning affair with a huge silver fox collar and very full sleeves caught up into a deep furless cuff. Instead of the fur on the cuffs this coat is worn with a dash ing muff of silver fox-tail that will knock out an eye or two. Blum also uses tweed crepe in a rich dark green with large sleeves, almost bell -shaped at the bottom. The wide flat col lar is of leopard and is tossed gracefully about the neck like a scarf. Blue fox is everywhere, and blends beautifully with the soft browns in a street coat of Heda cloth here. Black broadcloth fash ions an unusual Blum coat. But, at that, I guess it isn't so much broadcloth as it is a silky curly Persian lamb — curlier than the variety we wore last year. Almost the entire waist, collar, and the top of the sleeves is of the lamb, while a wide fitted band of broadcloth molds the waist and hips. From the hips down the coat is of lamb again as are the straight cuffs of the sleeves. The little elbow and waist band of broadcloth are finished in nar row lines of silk stitching and two rows of but tons decorate the front of the coat. Every detail of this, from the high small collar and wide-shouldered effect to the bands of broad cloth is dashingly new and different. This north side Blum shop is well worth a tour of inspection as a new member of the near north side group. Though not as large as the magnificent south Michigan shop it is as perfectly planned on its own scale. The white stone front flashes gaily with orange awnings and bright green boxed trees. Inside, the separate rooms shelter a very complete ar- THE COAT AT THE LEFT, FROM RENA HARTMAN, IS OF CHANGELLA TRIMMED WITH SILVER FOX. TO THE RIGHT IS AN IMPORTED BROWN TWEED SPORT COAT WORN WITH A MARTIAL ARMAND SEP ARATE NECKPIECE OF RED FOX. October, 1931 -)1) ray of merchandise, with hosiery, pajamas, mules and negligees on the first floor, another nook for costume jewelry and bags (more of these later) and another room towards the back for hats. A decorative winding stairway leads to the second floor which is really a sort of large bal cony overlooking the first very chummily. This — all in soft ivories and golds with dashes of red and green — is delightfully pleasant and restful for an afternoon shopping whirl. Old French commodes and French prints from the famous Blum collection add a charming touch, and several beautiful tapestries give it real dig nity. The fitting rooms here are just grand — large and roomy so that you may stroll up and down before the mirrors and really get the ef fect of your wrap or gown in motion. It is here that wraps and street coats, furs, dresses and sport clothes are selected. The new evening wraps are simply resplend ent. There is one here in black velvet that might fittingly be worn to a Court presenta tion. Full length, it sweeps the floor and molds the figure slimly and stateli — oh roll your own adjective — with a large velvet collar which may be either dropped like a cape or clutched about the neck when the blizzards sweep one from car to canopy. The collar is edged in white fox and the lining of the wrap is unusual in its white satin to the waist and black satin for the skirt. Another black velvet wrap is the smart three-quarter length with large white fox shawl collar and faintly Victorian puffed sleeves finished in white fox cuffs. This too is lined in rich white satin. There never is any thing so distinctive for all occasions as this black velvet and white satin combination. Un less it be a full-length wrap of deep, glowing wine red velvet, lovely as an old painting, with its huge cape collar of white ermine and grace ful flowing sleeves. The youthful short jacket still blossoms smartly in all the shops. Blum gives it a new feeling in 'white ermine by mold ing the sleeves into huge puffs from the elbow and then gathering the puffs into a narrow band at the wrist, or by making it of velvet in a bright new green with a dazzling 'white lapin collar to set off the brilliant velvet. Wine velvet promises to be one of the chosen colors this winter. Jacques shows one of the loveliest of these in a full- length wrap with an unusual waist in dolman effect, no set-in sleeves, gathered in at the waist and then falling in rich folds to the floor. Another long wrap in black velvet has a large collar of silver fox and unusual bands of silver fox from the elbow to the shoulder blade in back, creating a cape-like effect. Both these wraps are slightly shorter in front than in back, with a little pointed train-like grace in back. Watch these little trains. They prom ise to be very good this year for such as can handle them, both on dresses and wraps. Among the most fascinating of the innova tions in accessories are the new gloves. In stead of the large, mannish looking affairs we've been hauling on jauntily these several seasons past, the new gloves are back to femininity with a bang. They are as slenderly molded to the hand as the dresses are to the waist and form-fitting once more. Slick glace kid promises to be in high favor. Field's show a black kid by Lelong that is the very essence of gentlewomanly grace, with three narrow seams from the fingers ending in a point at the wrist and then flaring out again into a triangle on the rather long cuff. This point at the wrist does wonders to slenderize the appearance of the hand. Another Le long glove here in white or eggshell kid has a graceful swirl of black starting at the mid dle finger and winding down the back of the hand into a circle of black swirls around the cuff. The in teresting triangular motif is repeated in a light kidskin glove whose faintly gauntlet -like cuff slopes off in gradu ated steps to form a slight flare. Really unusual de signs these and very distinguished. Field's have also achieved something handsome and gloriously practical in their new super- doeskin gloves, the doeskin softer and more supple than any I have ever seen, and divinely washable. Even the dark shades and blacks are guaranteed to wash beautifully — and they do, they do! left: a suit of charda and raccoon; from jacques. right: a coat, from Strickland's, of ridgeway tweed with shaded brown CARACUL. 13 ut we must skip back to the costume jewelry spotted at Blum's. They are always certain to corral some excit ing pieces here and this season is no exception. The coutourieres have produced several in teresting designs, among them the new Chanel strand of silver and luscious coral. This has at least fifteen strands of little coral beads linked together with tiny silver rings between each bead and all clasped at one side with a large silver ring. Wonderfully effective for either afternoon or evening. Three-strand necklaces of Chinese tube beads also promise to be extremely smart. Vionnet has several interesting pieces at Blum's, one of two black silk cords hung with six jade-green stones about the front of the necklace. The stones are sus pended by tiny silver rings and may be had in many interesting new colors besides the green. Vionnet also does the attractive bow- knot necklace in a new white composition that is lovely with street things or black velvet. For street wear one of the newest things I saw was Patou's wood and aluminum choker at Charles A. Stevens. Maybe the combina tion sounds too kitchen-y for words but it's a perfectly stunning piece. Graduated shin ing brown wood beads form the outside strand of the choker with the inside strand of spar kling aluminum. And there's a handsome bracelet to match. Stevens also show some handsome wide brown wood bracelets — and the word has gone out that bracelets, bracelets, bracelets will be worn heavily this winter. Probably a result of the Colonial Exposition. All these browns are lovely with the coppery tones and greens of the new fabrics. Cold jewelry is back and thriving under the Empire influence that touches everything slightly in this year's fashions. Those lovely gold beads that our grandmothers used to wear are strung together by Stevens into three strand necklaces with a soft topaz clasp in back. Another necklace has two gold chains held together by small pearls, at intervals, with a large cameo as pend ant. Nothing could be more interesting with your black velvet and lace than Stevens' gold chains ending in charming old-fashioned minia tures as pendants. The miniatures are re peated on wide gold bracelets and also on the flaps of black silk envelope bags — the whole ensemble being an awfully new idea. 56 The Chicagoan The Game of Make-Up Some Subtleties in Cosmetics By Al a r c i a Vaughn '*X~T 7 ELL," said the old gentleman, with \/\/ a contented sigh over his filet, "I • • swear it refreshes me to see the way you charming ladies have come back to nature. Just look at these lovely faces! Women don't paint the way they did a few years ago." His dinner partner smiled slyly but did not divulge the secrets of her sisters. They did look delightfully natural and only the shrewd feminine eye knew what practiced care lay be hind those artfully shadowed eyes and gleam ing shoulders and petal smooth cheeks. "Nat ural" complexions are undoubtedly in, this year, but it is a nature aided by art. And a very subtle art it is, this one of perfect make-up. The first thing to achieve, of course, is as perfect a base as possible. All the beauty specialists decry the habit of plastering on make-up as a disguise. Make-up is an enhancer of a beautiful skin these days and it is because women are learning this that effects are as lovely as they are. So if you have returned from a summer of burning suns and winds and salty exposure don't indulge in any new rouge pots until you whip your skin into shape first. There's hardly an after-summer skin that isn't too dry and crying for nourishment, and the swiftest cure is to dash to a good salon for a series of nourishing treatments. Since there's hardly a skin that isn't also tanned or dis colored by freckles these treatments are doubly essential though, of course, judicious home care every single day should supplement them. If you feel just too drawn and dry for words and don't like the woodsy tone of your face when it stares at you over the new woodsy browns sink into a salon chair and have yourself made over. It's well worth the investment to see what a fillip a shining pink and white face gives to autumn clothes, as pink and white is definitely the tone that's needed with the new deep colors. A delicate bleach and circulation ointment to start the blood coursing through your cheeks does wonders for that sallow look that comes when suntan begins to fade away. At Eliza beth Arden's, for instance, after your skin has been thoroughly cleansed and nourished with rich creams till all the taut feeling has worn away you may indulge in several whitening procedures. Her Anti-Brown Spot Ointment, smoothed all over face, arms and neck and down the darkened triangle of the V-neck which looks so awful with evening dresses, starts a pleasant glow of circulation that carries off impurities, removes discoloration and re fines the pores. It's a splendid preparation to use for stubborn freckles and sallow skins. Or you may have the luscious Arden mask of cream blended into freshly beaten eggs every morning which is especially fine for very dry, burned skins. After it is carefully spread over your face and you are swaddled as tenderly as a baby the attendant slips away while you drift into the most delightful, scented doze in which all gnawing little annoyances drop away. When the mask is wiped off you are literally tickled pink, your cheeks glow with a natural glow, your skin is perceptibly whiter, and your chin feels as firm as a sub-deb's. The tiny little squint lines are erased. It's a fortifying experience that every woman needs now and then. For a very ravaged face and deeply sagging lines Elizabeth Arden has an even deeper treat ment which employs the principle of electro therapy. A special composition mask is made to fit your chin and face and connected with a gentle current after it is adjusted carefully by the trained nurse in attendance. This cur rent penetrates gently but surely so that the beneficial oils of the creams are forced into every cell and the deep underlying tissues are rejuvenated. The results of even one treat ment are truly remarkable and a series of these will re-make your tired out face so that your dearest enemy will have to say flattering words. Another splendid re juvenating measure is Dorothy Gray's Ali- menteau treatment which employs an astrin gent mask. This treatment begins right at your backbone with a thorough massage that relaxes every muscle in your body and starts all the blood streams into vigorous action. Only when you are completely relaxed are the nour ishing oils, circulation ointments and masks applied. This type of treatment, of course, is for the older, worn-out skin though frequently many young skins need a thoroughgoing measure after much exposure. Dorothy Gray also has a delightful treatment for the prac tically perfect young skin, a treatment designed as a protective measure to keep the skin in its pristine state. For the busy deb it's a life- saver of refreshment — a gentle cleansing, just enough nourishment, and the right touch of delicate make-up. There are any number of lotions and creams besides these, designed to clear up the ravages of summer. After a good cleansing Harriet Hubbard Ayer's Lemon Lotion acts as well as a gentle bleach, while her Moth and Frec\le Lotion left on the skin over night, is splendid for unusually stubborn brown spots. Primrose House produces a fine Circulation Cream which should be used two or three times a week to tone up and bleach a sleepy skin. For the final pre-make-up rejuvenation there is nothing more delightful than Kathleen Mary Quinlan's famous Strawberry Cream, which does a world of soothing and nourishing and toning in just twenty minutes. Guerlain has a lovely new nourishing and cleaning liquid. Lait de Beaute, soft and rich to ease the last bit of worn feeling out of tired cheeks. It is only after measures like these that one can triumphantly tackle the problem of actual make-up. Really subtle make-up requires a little study, a study that well repays you for every minute you spend on it. One of the greatest steps forward in this art is the one Elizabeth Arden took when she evolved the right color blends for various costume colors as well as for the various types. After a facial treatment at the Arden salon you should take a lesson in blending of colors to discover just what tones of rouge, lipstick and eye shadow are suited to your type and to the clothes you plan to wear. For one of the new greens, for instance, you will need a blend of two tones of eye shadow and an en tirely different tone of lipstick from the one you use with your pale pink evening frock. The Arden kit of six lipsticks is a fascinating addition to any dressing table and very com plete in the range of colors it offers. The make-up chart that comes with it tells you just which one to use for your type of skin with whatever colors you may be wearing at the moment. Each one appears in a different color case — fern green, black and silver, black and oyster white, dashing lacquer red — very handsome things to carry about. And all of them are deliciously soft and indelible without ever getting dry. \X/ ITH complexions as nat ural as possible and just a delicate touch of rouge, make-up accents are concentrated on lips and eyes, so that once you have acquired the art of clever lip and eye make-up you have taken a long stride towards fascination. Eye shadow is a basic elecent in the clever make-up these days, and it is wise to have a range of colors in these as well as in lipsticks. The Arden eye shadows are designed to supplement her lipstick tones perfectly and to enhance the fall colors of day and evening clothes. Marie Earle has also designed a new range of eye shadows in exquisite new tones — gray, violet, blue, brown and green. They should, of course, be used delicately and judiciously but there's nothing like a faint shadowing of the upper lid to add glamour to eyes under the in teresting tilted hats of the year. Rouge appears in new soft tones as well, to give the "pretty" look that the season's hats call for. Dorothy Gray has a selection of seven new shades both in her compact rouges and cream rouges. The compacts are necessary to carry with one for that freshening touch but there's nothing like a good cream rouge for the basic make-up you apply at home. It should be applied lightly with the finger tips when the face is still slightly moist from facial lo tion, in order to blend it evenly into the flesh tones without having any sharp edges showing. The final eye accent needs a very, very light hand. The new mascaras are softer than those hard, brilliant pastes no one but chorus girls used. The moist brush should be dashed light ly across the cake and then brushed upwards on the lashes to make them curl out. Instead of the hard looking black for black lashes the new soft blues are lovely and lend a brilliance to the eyes that deep black does not. Antoine has an exquisite blue mascara, at Saks. October, 1931 57 "There can be no expectation of good health unless you drink an abundance of water." Dr. Royal S. Copeland U. S. Senator from New York Formerly Health Commissioner of New York City Man is % water! 3 quarts must be consumed daily if true health is to be maintained! EVERY breath you take, every movement you make "uses up" a certain amount of the water in your body. Science has deter mined this loss of water to be 3 quarts a day. This amount must be replaced daily if true health is to prevail. Without sufficient water your body becomes a parched and burning waste. Soon toxic poisons accumulate, the kidneys, liver and digestive tract labor under a cruel handicap, and then you become dull, listless, easily tired and gen erally run down. Drink up and pep up with Corinnis Spring Water — the pure, sparkling water that is so good to taste and so good for you. Corinnis is far more than a pure, palatable water. It is endowed by Nature with certain minerals essential to health. Iron, calcium, phosphorus, magnesium and other elements are there to help repair the daily bodily wear which is common to us all. Corinnis costs but a few cents a bottle. It i3 delivered in a handy case of 12 direct to your door anywhere in Chicago or suburbs. For health, won't you order it now? HINCKLEY & SCHMITT 420 W. Ontario St. SUPerior 6543 (Also sold at your neighborhood store) Corinnis SPRING WATER Allegretti 11-71 Club Ambassadeur 81 Elizabeth Arden 64 Arnold's - 73 Baldwin Piano Company 71 Hotel Belmont 69 A. Starr Best 82 Bismarck Hotel 79 Bissell-Weisert 71 Blackwood Hotel 75 Brentano's 11 Bridge and Backgammon Club 82 Cafe Winter Garden 81 Carlin Comforts 63 Carter Beauty Shop 11 College Inn Foods - 78 Commonwealth Edison Shops 7 3 Covered Wagon Kennels 67 Cunard Line 78 Chicago Daily News 83 DeMet's 79 Gaston'3 Louisiane 80 Dorothy Gray 9 Greenbrier Hotel 77 Marshall Field and Company.. 3 F. E. Foster 6s? Company 65 Index to Advertisements Harriette B. Frank 11 Ellen French 82 Hamburg-American Line 63 Harding's 75 Harham Kennels 67 Chicago Herald and Examiner 61 Hinckley and Schmitt 58 Holland 6? Costigane 11 Robert W. Irwin Company.... 65 Florence Jackson's Barn 77 Jacques 73 Kanesburg Kennels 67 Kenwood Mills 77 Knoedler Galleries 82 L'Aiglon 80 Lake Shore Drive Hotel 68 La Salle Hotel 79 Leschin 5 Lyon 6? Healy 70 Mack's Club 81 Mann's Rainbo 79 McAvoy 74 Edna McRae 74 Milgrim 62 Miralago 81 Mrs. M. K. Neilsen 67 New Blackhawk 75 Nine Hundred Lake Shore Drive 79 Packard Motor Car Company 7 Palmer House 79 Pearson Hotel 82 Pittsfield Building 10 Pittsfield Tavern 11 Plaza Hotels 77 Pearlie Powell 14 Mrs. Benjamin W. Price.. 80 Red Star Inn 75 Rennels Kennels 67 Increase Robinson 82 Rock-A-Bye Racketeer 67 Rockwell Books 76 Rococo House 82 Rubaiyat Club 79 Helena Rubinstein 76 Saks Fifth Avenue 42-43 Selecman's 74 Hazel Sharp 82 Shepard Tea Room 80 Shoreland Hotel 82 Show Boat - 81 Thomas E. Smith's Interiors.. 70 John M. Smyth 12 Spaulding-Gorham 8 Alex H. Stewart 67 Jimmie Sullivan 67 Tatman 65 Terrace Garden 79 Tickle Kit 76 Vanity Fair 81 Wauchow Kennels 67 Waukesha Water 80-82 Martha Weathered 2 White Rock 84 Dorothy B. Whittle 67 Hotels Windermere 69 Wittbold's 11 Wurlitzer 59 Yamanaka 80 William Mark Young 7 5 58 The Chicagoan MOHAWK DUOZONE REFRIGERA provides ONE ZONE FOR FREEZING ONE ZONE FOR STORAGE i^lOHAVK Think of being able to freeze ice or desserts as fast as you want without freezing the moist foods in the storage compartment. Mohawk Duozone Refrigeration with its two automatical ly controlled zones of cold does that and more. It keeps the moisture in foods and prevents loss of flavor. Come in and let us explain Duozone completely. WuRLllZER 329 S. Wabash ^\7W 'The CI4ICAGOAN 407 South Dearborn street, Chicago, Illinois One year $5 Two years $8 Three years $10 Gentlemen : I enclose the indicated amount, for which please mail The Chicagoan each month to the address given below. (Signature) _ (Street address) (City) (State) October, 1 93 1 59 Your Hat and Stick Clothes for the Social Season By Herbert Hunter I Fish- F I'm not entirely mistaken, the Illinois duck shooting season will have opened by the time you're for- tunate enough to be reading your third issue of this new Chicagoan. At the present writing, brawny footballers have socked each other in the first practice massacres of their season. A few days ago a season, neither particularly pertinent to ducks or to footballers, but contributed to by both, moved in on us during some of the hottest weather we'd had since June. It was Autumn. Autumn (perhaps Fall, to you) is the philosopher's time. He is filled with a great sense of the finish of things, dur ing which decline he plunges into a retro spective contempla- tion of their origin and their rise. This year the philosopher boys have a real job on their hands. It should only be our regret that they couldn't have reversed their action within the last couple of years. If we could get some of them to a little heavy thinking before things happen, we'd all be bet' ter off — even the philosophers. But let's not get sour about the past. We do, after all, have lots to look forward to, and, if not that, we have a lot to forget, and a couple of pretty good means to that end in the aforementioned pigskins and pin tails. And that's not all. There's still another season to be considered, and, because it's my job, I'll have to start considering it imme diately before this becomes a sports or editorial page. I'll freely admit, however, that I'd rather be on my way to the Yale- Chicago game, but before we were through with the day or the evening we'd certainly be considering my end of the day's work, and, if I do say it, with a certain amount of meticulous thought (whether you confess it or not) . You wouldn't want to go to the Drake or to the Balloon Room in tweeds, would you — or in home spun, or serge, or cheviot, or underwear, for that matter? You'd feel a little out of place — "gauche" is the -word. And, so, because the next season we've got to consider here is the all- important and impending social season, and because the word social implies the exercising of a few of the niceties at the same time that one is enjoying one's self in the company of others (it being up to you to observe a modi cum of those niceties if the company or the opinion of others means anything to you, and, if it doesn't, it is sound to suggest that you not bother others, and, thanks, but you're wasting your time here), we will discuss a method of rendering the human body as little conspicu ous as possible in polite society. And now to work. The dominant note this year, as you may have read before, is formality. Last year you may have noticed the increased wearing of the tailcoat when, a year or two before, the dinner-jacket would have sufficed. This win ter you'll see even more tailcoats. What is more, there will be in evidence a greater dis play of the proper appendages. Too often we are satisfied with the fact that we appear properly at table or in the ball room, whereas, on our way to and from we look like the devil, which is to say that we disregard a considera tion of our hats, overcoats, stick, scarf, and gloves. Get away from the idea that "yes, they're important, but I can do with what I've got," and realize that the top hat, for instance, is not only important, but it is as essential to formal evening wear as is the wearing of a starched shirt. Even a derby is not right, and a soft hat ! The over-coat affords the one compromise, in that you may wear a chesterfield — a coat that is also worn in the day time. The chesterfield, however, is not strictly proper, though no hard and fast line is drawn in this respect. To be absolutely correct, without going to the cape coat, the coat should have silk faced lapels and cloth collar, rather than the reverse, as in the case of the satin and cloth of the chesterfield. Whether you wear the opera hat or the silk hat depends upon the particular occasion upon which it is worn. The high silk hat should be reserved for the more formal occasions — it is essential at an evening wedding, for instance — while the opera hat, as its name implies, having origi nated for wear at the opera, where it was col lapsed or compressed into a convenient shape for tucking under one's seat, is still a theatre hat, and one that perches atop the wearer as he taxis from the theatre to the night club or supper club. The scarf is white, of course — white silk, either square or not, and plain or fringed. It may be folded simply across the chest, or it may be tied, Ascot fashion. The latter is the preferable way. The gloves are white buck, or plain white kid, and may be of the kind that button, or that merely slip on. It is a nice touch to wear the collar — wing, of course — a bit high. The white tie, while it will probably be seen more popularly worn with the butterfly ends, is a bit smarter as a club bow, which is not too wide, and has squared ends. The waistcoat is white and may be either single or double breasted. It also looks well in a pique, while a new, and com fortable, note is the English backless waistcoat we have illustrated. It requires the wearing of braces with quite high waisted trousers, which, after all, are the thing. Incidentally, the trouser may be pleated for better and more correct appearance. Double, silk corded braids should be at the outside seam of the leg. There is no compromise as to the correct fit of the tailcoat. No garment can look worse if improperly fitted, with collar gaping and back full of wrinkles. This year the lapels will be quite wide and curved, gros-grain faced, and the tails themselves will be full and long. It is a garment, with all its grace and dignity, that makes us feel what we're not, if anything does. What it makes us look, if it is not exactly right, is another story — and this is a warning. 60 The Chicagoan A SPARKLING NEW FEATURE FOR BOOK LOVERS! '""THIS popular Chicago author and col- -*- umnist, who for nine years conducted the famous "From Pillar to Post" column in the Chicago Evening Post, will now write a Saturday Book Talk feature for the Chicago Herald and Examiner — next Saturday and every Saturday! Thousands who have followed his smart "Town Talk" column in The Chicagoan magazine and "Riq's Rumble Seat" page Book Talks by RICHARD (Riq) ATWATER in the Daily News Midweek Section, will welcome his selection as Book Editor by the Herald and Examiner. Richard A t w a t e r has contributed articles, stories and skits to Child Life, The New Yorker, Saturday Evening Post, The Bookman and Chicago Commerce magazines. Among his published books are: "Rickety Rimes," "Procopius' Secret History of Justinian" (translated from the Greek), and "Doris and the Trolls," a story for children. In 1917 he had the unique experience of writing book reviews for two leading Chicago newspapers, signing his real name and the pseudonym of Riquarius, respectively. He has studied at the U. of Berlin and taught at the U. of Chicago and U. of Minnesota. For enlightening discussions of the current books, brilliantly written, read Richard Atwater's Book Reviews — Next Saturday and Every Saturday in THE CHICAGO HERALD and EXAMINER "CHICAGO'S MOST INTERESTING NEWSPAPER" THE CHICAGOAN Theatre Ticket Service Kindly enter my order for theatre tickets as follows: (Play) ( Second choice).. CHumber of seats) _ (Date) (~H.ame) (Address). (Telephone) (Enclosed) $ Attend the Theatre Regularly, Comfortably, Smartly By arrangement with the theatres listed below, THE CHICAGOAN is pleased to assure its readers choice reservations at box office prices and with a minimum of inconvenience. Adelphi Apollo Blackstone Cort Erlanger Grand Great Northern Harris Majestic Playhouse Princess Selwyn Studebaker October, 1931 61 Are You Aware what This Fall's Couturier Dress Can Do For You? Women are re-discovering the advantages of the Couturier-made Costume — with these Reminiscent Fashions presenting so many problems of adaptation to personal type! Perhaps your best Fashion Interest lies in the Original Gown, this season! Pictured, a Modified Period Gown of black transparent velvet, trimmed with crystal — for Formal Afternoon. Others for Daytime, Evening, Sports — all most favorably priced. FLOWERS BY MARC CHAGALL. FANTASTIC STILL LIFE IN THE ARTS CLUB'S SHOW, WHERE CHICAGO MILLIONAIRES OVERLOOKED A BET. MODERN ART The Arts Club of Chicago 600 Michigan Blvd., South, Chicago new york cleveland detroit miami beach i!iii;i!!ii;i:;iii:!ii;;ii!!iii;iiiiiiiiii:iiiiiiii!i!!iiiiiiiii!iiii:inniiiiii!ii!iii:ni;!!i!!i[iiiiiiiiiiiiiiN!iii!iiiiiiiiiii!iiiiiii (Begin on page 3 5) duced along with paintings by Forain. This same first season was enriched later by sculpture and drawings by Rodin and drawings by Picasso. ±HE opening event of the next season in the institute gallery was the most sensational of all the five years of tenancy — the first extensive exhibition in Chicago of paintings by Picasso. There were sixteen of them — all important and many now priceless, adorning public museums and great private collections. The show lasted only a week, Dec. 18-23, but it was a week of tremendous indignation and enthusiasm. It is still remembered as a red-letter event. Marie Laurencin and the Cubist Braque were introduced in the insti tute gallery this same season, along with the precocious Pamela Bianco. What, by the way, has become of Pamela? The next season at the institute was opened Dec. 23, 1924, with an exhibition of eleven paintings by Toulouse-Lautrec — a prelude to the great Lautrec exhibition at the in stitute in the autumn of 1930. Out of the Lautrec show was bought "The Circus" for the Art Institute's permanent collection. The new galleries in the Wrigley Building were opened this same autumn, but still the Arts Club un selfishly favored the gallery set aside for its use in the Art Institute. Paintings by Berthe Morisot and sculpture by Nadelman were other institute gallery offerings of the Lautrec season. The next season at the institute was enlivened with sculpture by Lachaise, but more es pecially with paintings and water colors by Vlaminck and Utrillo. This Vlaminck-Utrillo show had much to do with the split-up between the Arts Club and the Art Institute. It was timed — some thought mali ciously — to conflict or co-ordinate with a local show, however you want to think it. It "showed up" the local pictures so lamentably that something had to be done. But another year intervened before the definite break. The notable show of this final season was a mag nificent collection of paintings by Chardin. The Chardins also con flicted with a local exhibition — and the Arts Club had the daring to put into its Wrigley galleries simul taneously a great retrospective show of paintings by Matisse, another of its red-letter triumphs. After the Chardins, paintings by Walt Kuhn were shown — some of them distinctly distasteful to the gray-haired trustees — and then the final curtain fell on the activities of the Arts Cub in its institute galleries. Meanwhile, the new galleries in the Wrigley Build ing were not being neglected, even though choicest things were going to the institute. The first season, 1924-25, in the new quarters witnessed the introduc tion to America of Leopold Survage, with the astonishing record of a com plete sell-out. The show was to have gone from here to New York, but the eighteen items all remained in Chicago. Archipenko's sculpture was intro duced to Chicago this same season in a small show, from which a marvel- ously beautiful marble torso was bought for the Arts Club's perma nent collection, of which it is still one of the chief ornaments. Soud- binine's sculpture followed. The great smash of the Wrigley Building season of 1925-'26 was the Marc Chagall show, another of the half-dozen supreme events in the history of the Arts club. This ex hibition was probably least under stood and most berated of all the club has given in its history. It passed on to New York without a single canvas being sold — though the prices were not excessive — and in New York it met with the same fate. The next stopping place was Paris — and that was its last. Every can vas was sold in a week — literallv gobbled up. Chicago's financiers never had a better chance to gamble 62 The Chicagoan PENANG THE HOLY LAND SCORES OF OTfTER PLACES IN 30 COUNTRIES! RESOLUTE WORLD CRUISE Perfection in Ship . . . . A SHIP that gives constant delight throughout any cruise —The RESOLUTE. Room a-plenty without shipboard distances; everything at hand . . . Veranda Cafe, enticing Winter Garden with dances, entertainments, the great daylight Swimming Pool, Sports Deck and Gymnasium — peopled, but never crowded — and plenty of nooks for quiet chats or sitting alone. Yet with all this completeness, here is a size of ship that allows unusually close approach to mysterious cities and romantic shores . . . No wonder travelers say: "If you build another ship for cruising, make it exactly like the RESOLUTE!" and Itinerary More places visited than on any other cruise ! The utmost luxury at every place ... 12 days by special trains, finest automobiles, with de luxe hotels, around and across INDIA, without extra cost ... LI days in CHINA, from Hongkong to the Great Wall ... 10 days in JAPAN in Cherry Blossom Time . . trips in Palestine, Java, Bali . . in all 38,000 miles at sea and ashore, the most complete world cruise, re plete with enchantment. And everywhere, the hospitality and expert management of Hamburg- American making every moment delightfully carefree . . . inspiring the mood to see the World at its best! Sailing Eastward from New York on January lii^^^^l 6th for 143 days of de luxe world cruising. I fl «% H I Obtain literature, compare itineraries and in- I CkmrfTm I eluded shore excursions. Your local Agent or ^^" ^^^ HAMBURG-AMERICAN 177 NO. MICHIGAN AVENUE, CHICAGO LINE An Interior Recently Designed by Carlin Shops ,/friieriom The charming furniture pieces portrayed here, grouped into an impressive harmony , indicate tlie skill of the Carlin SIiops to decorate interiors of b canty, individuality and supreme comfort. The Carlin Shops — originally established to offer only Carlin Comforts to lovely women — today embrace a complete decorative service. You arc invited to inspect the delightful furniture and exclusive fabric selections — and to be sure — the new Fall creations in Carlin Comforts. MODERATE PRICES IN TUNE WITH THE TIMES. October, 1931 63 CHARIOT (Lacquer red case) — Rich flame.. .good with costumes of green, woodsy brown, black and flame color. PRINTEMPS (Fern green case) — Contributes greatly to the success of pastel frocks. It is also very lovely with black and white. VICTOI RE (All black case) — Rich and warm. Triumphant with a black costume! COQUETTE (Black case with oysterwhite top)— A deep red,with raspberry,winey tones. A dashing touch for the woman who likes a definite make up. VIOLA (Blue case) —There is a hint of violet in this.. .just enough to make it perfect for wear with blue.CARMENlTA(B/ack casewith silver top) — Darker than Viola and a charming foil for dark colors. Lipsticks of the Ensemble ^ • Be gay.. .or demure. Be dashing. ..or subdued. Be sophisticated. ..or naive. The new Arden Lipstick Ensemble endows you with the power to change your personality to suit your mood. It enables you to wear the new colors suc cessfully. Six lovely lipsticks in six enchanting shades. Petal-smooth. ..really indelible. ..easy to apply.. .exquisitely tinted. Once you see the ensemble, you will want all six. But you may buy the lipsticks individually. •The new Arden Lipstick Ensemble, com prising six lipsticks in six charming shades, is $7.50... Individual lipsticks are $1.50. In Miss Arden's Salon, you may acquaint yourself with the lat est make-up information. An expert analysis of your own skin coloring is part of every treatment.To reserve the hour you pre fer, please telephone Superior 6952. ELIZABETH ARDEN 70 EAST WALT ON PLACE • CHICAGO NEW YORK • PARIS • LONDON • BERLIN • ROME • MADRID — the Chagall market has never crashed like the stock exchange. The Chagalls shown here for a few hun dred dollars in 1926 run now into the dizzy thousands. An aftermath: Shortly after the close of the Chagall show, the time came for the annual exhibition by artist members. The veteran Oliver Dennett Grover refused to send any thing — no picture of his should ever hang in a gallery desecrated by Marc Chagall! Besides the Matisse retrospective exhibition — the finest collection of Matisses ever brought together in America, and covering his entire painting career — the season of 1926-'27 was distinguished by a most startling display of sculpture by Brancusi. The Brancusi show and the show the following season of sculpture by Jacob Epstein proved the Arts Club to be as wide-awake to three dimen sional art as to two. These two ex hibitions rank with the Picasso, Matisse, Chagall, and Modigliani displays of painting — the latter being the great event of the 1929-'30 season. But on January 4, 1929, there was opened a show that surpassed in some aspects the significance of any thing that has occurred at the Arts Club before or since — a "Loan Ex hibition of Modern Paintings Pri vately Owned by Chicagoans." The event 'was astounding. There were sixty-nine items, all exclusive of loans and gifts to the Art Institute, and the majority of the pictures were of importance of "museum pieces." Largely through the "educational" influence of the Arts Club in only a decade, Chicagoans — twenty-four of them — had become "collectors" of Modernism — a "proud eminence" formerly enjoyed almost alone by Arthur Jerome Eddy. A year later there was a "Loan Exhibition of Modern Drawings and Sculpture Pri vately Owned by Chicagoans," which proved the list greatly expanded. There were forty-three lenders. The function of the Arts Club in Chicago's progressive art life has been that of a teacher — a leader — a pointer-out of the way. Through its activities, Chicago, more surely than any other American city, not even excluding New York, has been kept aware of what is going on in the world beyond its gates. Wax-Works- THE advent of Herr Richard Tauber, Kammersanger, has been anticipated by Columbia and the en ergetic Gramophone Shop in New York. From the former come Thine is Mv Heart Alone and Always Smil ing from Lehar's Land of Smiles, two arias from The Tales of Hofmann, and two meandering ballads, On the Volga and Zigeunerweisen. The first mentioned is a great tune, the best in the Lehar score, sung by a tenor master with a voice comparable to Caruso's and a repertoire much more extensive. The Gramophone Shop offers an album of Odeon press ings from Land of Smiles, two Tau ber solos, two from Vera Schwartz, and two duets. The score ranks as one of Lehar's best and the vocalism is superb. Tauber comes to Chicago next month in recital. Maybe you'd like to meet him before he arrives. As an addition to its Masterworks Series Columbia offers the mountain ous Kreutzer Sonata of Beethoven, tossed off easily by Bronislaw Huber- man and Ignaz Friedman. They prove to be a distinguished ensemble team. The violin recording is not without flaws but none of them is serious. The Dvorak Quintet in A major is another Masterworks release, played by the Lener Quartet and Olga Loeser-Lebert. Amiable and melodi ous music by a second-rate Czech composer. The ensemble group does it for all it is worth. You may have read about Schwan- da, Der Dudelsac\pfeifer, an opera by the Bohemian Jaromir Weinberger slated for Metropolitan production this winter. Brunswick anticipates by pressing a Fantasia culled from the score and interpreted by Melichar and the Charlottenburg Opera Orchestra. Imagine if you can Smetana and The Bartered Bride come to life again dressed in the orchestration of the twentieth century. That is Schwan' da, the Bagpiper. The two discs, broadly played, comprise Polka, Furi- ante, Aria and Finale. The soaring conclusion sounds like a master's apostrophe to Smetana. You'll like this one. Heinrich Schlusnus, three times visitor to Chicago, sings two Schu bert lieder (Brunswick), An die ~Musi\ and Am Meer. The temporary coarseness that had begun to mar an otherwise perfect voice seems to have abandoned the great baritone forever in these gentle songs. A distin guished release. If you own the Tau ber 'Winterreise album, these will make good companion pieces. The acoustical problem of transmitting the grand pipe organ to the disc has been solved for once by Columbia. Louis Vierne of Notre Dame in Paris plays the Bach Fantasia in G minor. A double disc that will satisfy all lovers of the Leipsic Kantor. Descending several thousand flights, Columbia presses von Flotow's Stradella Over ture, with Dr. Weismann of Berlin and an anonymous symphony orches tra as executants. If you have senti mental memories of the movie over ture ante Frankie Masters and Bennie Meroff you will go for this ancient piece of hokum. A neater, sprightlier prelude comes from Brunswick, Mehul's Jeune Henri, played by Albert Wolff and the Lamoreux. Ravel's La "Valse, ominous dance on powder-kegs, must have sunk deep into the hearts of our countrymen. Here it is again at the hands of Koussevitsky and the Boston Sym phony Orchestra, the best recording of the poem to date. (Victor.) The record occupies three faces, the fourth being monopolized by Debussy's Danse which is alone worth the price. Elizabeth Rethberg, shining light of Ravinia, makes two for Victor, a Csardas from Die Fledermaus and an aria from Boccacio, ancient von Suppe score revived at the Metro politan so that Jeritza could wear tights. The Johann Strauss is fine. Gleanings in the popular field are slim. Blanche Calloway and Her Boys (God love 'em) make There's Rhythm in the River, a good tune by Webster and J. J. Loeb, who is, in case you don't know it, Jacob Loeb's son. On the other side is I 7<[eed Lovin, a hot mamma song. The ubiquitous Rudy (Lehigh) Vallee crashes through with two from the new Scandals. Life is Just a Bowl of Cherries is going over big. — R. P. 64 The Chicagoan An Announcement . . . and an Invitation ClJn {.^h'xcago: 608 South Michigan Blvd. to everyone interested m beauiijul rioi ana jxne custom = ouxli j urnxiure . THE largest, most com plete exhibit of fine custom furniture in the mid west . . . such is the new combined showing of the Robert W.. Irwin Co. and Cooper- Williams, Inc. Here Chicagoans and their guests may see, in their proper environments, hundreds of authentic reproductions and period interpretations. Each piece represents high artistic achievement; each is made at the bench of selected crafts men: each uses woods and fabrics for which the world has been combed. You are cordially invited. No one will urge you to buy, since purchases must be ar ranged through established retailers. ROBERT W. IRWIN CO. COOPER^WILLIAMS, inc. AFFILIATED GRAND RAPIDS BOSTON Interesting grouping of old English Sheffield pieces suitable for table decoration. A VERY FINE COLLECTION OF OLD AND MODERN CHINA, CRYSTAL, SHEFFIELD, LAMPS AND FURNITURE TAT MAN 625 N. Michigan Ave. CHICAGO, ILL. 517 Davis Street EVANSTON, ILL. Noteworthy examples of merica.n shoemaking Handcrafted at the bench — strictly // // / a one man shoe. "Custom Work" of the highest type The patient and painstakins work of "one man" — an artisan skilled in the fine points of shoemakins — sives us a Foster production with the hand=sewn welt construction which ensures the retention of the orisinal shape and form of the shoe. Both the Slipper and Oxford are produced in the finest qualities of Calf or Suede in Black or Brown with decorations from the choicest skins of the Calcutta Lizard. Now available/ in limited quantities/ at 23 J? R E. Foster & Company 115 North Xfy^bixsri Avenue October, 1931 65 A HANDSOME GREAT DANE, A SPECIMEN WHICH MEASURES UP TO ALL THE RIESENSCHNAUZER, HAS BEEN WINNING GREAT POPULARITY IN THE STANDARDS OF THAT BREED. THIS COUNTRY AS A FAMILY DOG. Barks and Growls The Schnauzer and a Few Notes on Dogs By B. M. Cummin cs THE Riesenschnauzer (Giant), shown on this page is one of three types of Ger man Terriers in the Schnauzer family. In Germany, the original Schnauzer •was known as the Rattenf enger (Rat Terrier) , and today in both Germany and the United States is the true Schnauzer type. It has not changed in fifty years other than the cropped tail, and in states where it is legal, the cropped ears. According to the American Kennel Club specifications, he should weigh between thirty and thirty-five pounds, and stand 16%" to 1924" high at the shoulders. The majority are salt and pepper color, although we find some that are grey with tan, and in recent years, some all black. He is game and sinewy and more or less rec tangular in build with a typical square terrier snout. He is a great lover of children and very in telligent, while his medium size makes him an ideal family dog for either country house or city apartment. The Giant Schnauzer, his big brother, is an ideal dog for defense as he has all the terrier f nd illy THE SCHNAUZER, NO MATTER WHICH SIZE, IS AN ACTIVE DOG AND EASILY TRAINED. characteristics of the medium, and the addi tional advantage of size as he will often tip the scales at one hundred pounds, and stand between 21 Yl to 2 5 Yl inches tall. He too may be salt and pepper and grey and tan in color, although in the United States, breeders are partial to solid black. He became almost extinct during the war, but is rapidly coming back. There are as yet comparatively few in this country. The Miniature Schnauzer is still another type and is almost an exact replica of the Medium, with the exception of his size as he should stand under 13 inches. He is an ideal apartment dog, and regardless of his size, is as game and sinewy as his brother. He is in no sense a toy, but rather a watchful, alert, miniature terrier. "Oh, No! We want a male puppy" is the cry that greets the kennel owner. He knows, and so does the dainty, sweet- tempered little home lover he holds in his arms, that if just once the average buyer owned a female, that sex would forever reign as a favor ite in the household. Dainty in looks and habits around the house, less liable to roam, affectionate and loyal, she is the ideal house dog. Her admirers insist that she is more intelli gent, easier to train and more loyal than her brother and far less liable to tear the house to pieces in her romping with the youngsters. It is noticeable that at kennels where one dog is allowed the freedom of the place, it is a female. True enough the mating season may prove objectionable, but that twice a year care is more than offset by her cleanliness and better characteristics the balance of the time. The usual price of pup pies was $75.00. A prospective buyer look ing them over, kicked savagely at the kennel pet when she came up to greet him with wag ging tail. "One thousand dollars, to you," quoted the kennel owner, as the price of each puppy was asked. That kick cost $925.00 and who knows how much self respect. Kennel men raise dogs because they love dogs. Potatoes should be di gested in the mouth. Your dog is carnivorous and gulps his food. That's one good reason for leaving spuds out of his diet. Then too, an excessive amount of starch is undesirable and unnecessary in the diet of any dog. Manufacturers of dog and puppy foods em ploy experts to mix them properly. Cereal, ground bones, meat and the right amount of oils and other ingredients are included. They make a well balanced diet for your dog or puppy. A LION'S HEART IN A QUAINT LITTLE BODY, THE SCOTTISH TERRIER IS A GREAT FAVORITE. 66 The Chicagoan Puppies by the World's Greatest Doberman Pinscher Hamlet von Herthasee, recently im ported from Germany, is an outstand ing Doberman of the entire world. His sons and daughters have consistently proved show winners. But the qualities that have made these show dogs also make ideal pets. The Doberman is one of the most intelligent of all dogs — a wonderful pal and play mate for children. See this great dog and puppies he has sired at THE RENNELS KENNELS LAKE VILL\, ILL. Training School for Dobcrtnans Only Owners: Mr. and Mrs. M. V. Reynolds and Mr. Arthur F. Tuttlc AIREDALES Puppies and Grown Dogs Available HARHAM KENNELS 1830 S. Sheridan Rd. Highland Park, 111. Owner, H. M. Floraheim Manager, B. Coffey Phone Highland Park S25 Giant Schnauzers Fine Litter Puppies out of Carin of Ago Farms By Noir Son of Int. Ch. Bodo Whelped August 7 Ready for Delivery after Oct. 1 Covered Wagon Kennels Naperville, 111. Chicago office: 105 W. Adams St. Boston puppies sired by ROCK-A-BYE RACKETEER Puppies for sale DR. G. E. BRANDLE Owner 917 Gait Avenue Chicago, Illinois TELEPHONE COHASSET 4652 ADORABLE CHOW PUPPIES We are offering chow puppies from the world s finest bloodlines at most reasonable prices—champion stock, some sired by the internationally famous Cham pion Nee Phos, valued at more than $10,000.00 and the best chow in sixteen recent big shows. Wauchow is one of the very largest and finest chow kennels in America, owning, undoubtedly, more chow champions than any other chow kennel in this country. Chicagoans, come out and see The Home of Cham pions! how chows arc famous for sweet, lovable dispositions. WAUCHOW KENNELS Reg. A. K. C. Mrs. Wm. R. Crawford, Owner Waukegan Rd., 1 mile north of Glenview, III. Dogberry Barbed Wire Kinssthnrp Sand Storm Puppies for sale by these great dogs. Alex H. Stewart — 30 North Michigan — Cent. 3978 Casar v. Obertraubling International Champion Young stock sired by this wellknown champion for sale Stud charge $75 Exclusive breeders of Harlequin Great Danes Mrs. M. K. Nielsen Hinsdale, Illinois Phone: Hinsdale 1905 SCOTTISH TERRIERS from the "lANSAY" Kennel AT STUD lANSAY JESTER - - $30 A.K.C. 688188 lANSAY SONGSTER- $30 A.K.C. 750046 Good Puppies Usually Available DOROTHY B. WHITTLE Deerfield, Illinois Phone Deerfield 240 Handling and Conditioning I have spent years in the work of condition' ing dogs of all breeds to win at shows. The rec ords will prove my claim that I put them down the right way. Will make all the shows East and West. For training, condi' tioning, handling, and showing dogs of all breeds, write or wire me. Jimmie Sullivan Professional Bench Show Handler Waukegan Road, Northbrook, 111. Telephone J<lorthbroo\ 50 International Grand Champion Klodo Von Boxberg True to tradition, the Kanesburg Kennels since their inception, pay particular attention to the tem perament and intelligence of their German Shepherds. With that in mind the acquisition of the world famous International Grand Champion KLODO VON BOX BERG and other importations took place. The result is that a German Shepherd puppy or trained dog which is acquired from the Kanes burg Kennels is the pride and de light of the household. A German Shepherd from the Kanesburg Kennels represents beauty, utility, structural perfec tion and supremacy in the show ring. Some puppies and trained dogs are at present available Kanesburg Kennels 7418 Higgins Road, Chicago, 111. Phone: Newcastle 17S5 William Schafkk Supervising Director The KANESBURG KENNELS the result of years of research by Henry L. Kane, are the most beautiful, hu mane and efficient kennels in the United States. Over $50,000 has been invested in making it a unique institution for the BOARDING and TRAINING of Dogs of All Breeds The kennels are under the supervision of William Schafer, internationally rec ognized breeder and trainer, assisted by other trainers of high moral traits and original in their methods, none of whom has been taken from any kennels in the United States. All training and directing- is done by word of mouth, physical punishment be ing obsolete. The Directorate of the Kennels pro vides for each dog a bed in a private indoor stall 8'x6' and a private outdoor runway S'x35', thorough sanitation, daily grooming, and daily showers. Fresh meat, beef, vegetables and other ingredients conducive to healthy coats and perfect condition arc provided daily. Kanesburg Kennels 7418 Higgins Road, Chicago, 111. Phone: Newcastle 1785 William Schavkr Supervising Director of Training Kennels October, 1931 at IS ' at m 1: •¦ mm JSSL ii™" « 8 11 .a S SS Mat ¦1 88 = 11 ' a ii m m m m I 81 iS s ss II 8 1 Mf ¦ 8 mm «¦ - SI I 11 si I il ¦¦ Sis 5 S 5 8 || 2 2 1 ..._ :J 1 ¦* s q | 8 SB ¦ i ¦ 8 8 || 18 1 ggg «g ¦¦::¦ MS &J ": IB Mf S| :~, 1 1 j ¦ ¦ 8 8 11 J 1 | ::' 8 s II 8 || 2| § MP ... j -.-.. 1 : i 1 Sftltjl * ¦ a S 1 i —J B mS". jppj* i&M S ,1 , 1 i l-J "r- ^.*l ¦ % >M - ^f * Wwm A * \ z. .., " ..-. 5: - s {**?*< t i .n ;••? - Ill si> ^v^*'™T ^ < ^^ . fill Each Winter . . the Address of Distinguished Chicagoans Year after year, they return to us — from Lake Forest, from Harbor Point, from Bar Harbor and the Brittany Coast. Ever since its completion filled a long-felt want, The Lake Shore Drive has always enjoyed, especially in Winter, the patronage of many of Chicago's finest families. This year our beautiful apartments, unequalled in the city for the charm and richness of their furnishings, have, in many cases, been newly decorated and refinished. A limited number of arrangements of from two to four rooms or more are now available, either with or without pri vate dining facilities. Lake Shore Drive service and cuisine must neces sarily be maintained rigidly at the highest con tinental standards to suit an exacting clientele. Yet our tariffs are decidedly in tune with the times. You will appreciate the environment, the con venience and the accessibility of The Lake Shore Drive. May we show you the several suites yet available? In addition to dinner a la carte, we are featuring a Pre-Theatre Dinner at $2.00, and a Special Luncheon at $1.25. LAKE SHORE DRIVE HOTEL 181 Lake Shore Drive, Chicago William A. Buescher, Manager Late Manager, Ritz-Carlton, Boston Ritz-Carlton. New York LUXURIOUS FRANKLIN DE LUXE SPEEDSTER. SEATING CAPACITY FOR FOUR. THE NEW CARS What They're Doing in Motordom B y C l ay Burgess YOU have probably noticed one or another of the twenty new Nash twin-ignition eight sedans recently placed in detective bureau service by the Chicago Police depart ment. Chief of Detectives John Nor ton, a veteran of the department and an international figure in crime detec tion and prevention, states that the Nash sedans were selected because of their speed, dependability and econ omy — three essentials of mobile police equipment. Their ease of handling in heavy traffic and their comfortab'e riding qualities have proved to be outstanding advantages in the exact ing work they are called upon to do. ... A Buick roadster, with trailer at tachment, accommodating passengers, mail and baggage, has recently been added to the famous Beirut-to-Bagdad transportation line across the Syrian desert. This line, known as "The Desert Mail," now operates five Buick cars, as well as several busses. . . . Realizing the menace of the "blind spot" for the driver, the Franklin Automobile Company's designers a number of years ago began to con centrate on this problem and to effect a solution, if possible. The result of this pioneering work was seen in the 192? Franklin Coupe, which repre sented the first successful attempt to introduce the long-desired clear vision front with the slender steel corner posts. . . . Conveyor systems in up-to- date factories are radically different than they used to be. For instance, Chrysler's present conveyor chains have a normal speed of twelve feet per minute and have capabilities of twenty-four feet per minute, as against the three feet per minute of six or seven years ago. Darwin took thirty years to obtain the material for his small book on earthworms and a pro fessor of the Paris Zoological Garden has spent twenty-nine years learning how fast a deep sea crab normally travels. Science can afford to be patient, but the requirements of modern automotive research demand that the slow processes of nature be speeded up. Thus, to determine the weathering qualities of materials de signed for use in its cars, Studebaker employs an ingenious device which reproduces every sort of weather effect with several times the rapidity of natural conditions. This device is known as a weatherometer. In test ing fabrics, threads, paints, chemical compounds and similar products for aging, fading or cracking, one hour exposure in the machine is equivalent to 7/10 of a day in the height of summer, or 12J/2 winter days. With paints or lacquers tested for blister ing, chalking or checking, five hours in the device equal one day of aver age weather conditions. . . . Chevrolet Motor Company contributed notably to the success of the recent American Legion national convention in De troit. Fifty-three ivory-white auto mobiles, all trimmed in red, blue and gold and manned by an army of drivers in uniforms of harmonizing colors were placed at the disposal of state commanders attending the con vention. ... A fourteen year old boy scout recently drove a Stutz Black- hawk sedan on a 3,000 mile coast trip in record time. He averaged 500 miles a day for six days. Flashing over the historic Pike's Peak route from Crystal Creek Canyon to the tower ing granite heights of Pike's Peak, a strictly stock Willys Six Roadster again captured the mountain climb. This famous race, known as the world's greatest hill climbing classic, made history, for the Willys Six repeated its performance of last year and won first and second places in the stock car race. It was the first time that any make of car has finished one, two in consecutive years. . . . Prince Bahadur Dossabhoy Hormasji Bhiwandiwalla, J. P., of Bombay, a pilot of wide experience has just made a special trip to this country for the purpose of obtaining an American built airplane. After inspecting a number of ships he pur chased a four-passenger Stinson Jun ior cabin monoplane, powered with a 21? h.p. Lycoming motor. . . . The close of the 1931 air races at Cleve- 68 The Chicagoan THE scaffolds and ladders of the ¦ decorators have vanished from our lovely Empire Dining Room and it stands revealed again in all its pristine beauty. One of the most distinguished dining salons in America — it cost $1 00,000.00 in real money to decorate and furnish when it was built — it is no more distinguished than the quality of the French cuisine so deftly and pleasantly served here nightly to increasing numbers of really dis criminating Chicagoans. REGULAR TABLE D'HOTE DINNER INCLUDING SUNDAYS $150 HOTEL Belmont B. B. WILSON, Resident Manager Single and double rooms with bath. Suites of 2 to 4 rooms, with or without kitchenette SHERIDAN ROAD AT BELMONT HARBOR Bittersweet 2100 15 MINUTES FROM THE LOOP ' Si E * k tt " £iJ ftfLF W rr T* .en Minutes to the Loop . . yet Nine Miles from its Clamor Hotels Windermere are quiet! Located in a restricted residential zone, they over look beautiful Jackson Park and Lake Michigan. Broad porches and terraces, facing the autumn sunshine, invite rest and reading between shopping tour and dinner party. Hotels Windermere are convenient. Though miles from the noisy, smoky loop, they are only 10 minutes away by I. C. electric trains or 15 minutes by taxi via the beautiful Outer Drive. You can have anything from a large room with twin Inadoor beds (virtually two rooms in one!) or a suite of hotel rooms up to apartments with your own private kitchen and dining room. Prices vary as widely, too, beginning at $2.50 per day for single rooms in Windermere West and $4.00 for single rooms in Windermere East. European or American plan, as you prefer. ^btels ||indermere (^hicago Special rates on leases. Winder mere cui sine and friendly hospitality have been bywords in Chicago for two generations. You'll be very glad you came to The Windermere this Winter! HOTELS WINDERMERE Chicago 56th Street at Hyde Park Boulevard Ward B. James, Manager FAIRFAX 60O0 October, 1931 69 Tilans of the Piano SOON begins another season at the Symphony that will be remembered by the thundering chords and cameo-like arpeggios of Gabrilowitsch . . . Levitzki . . . Paderewski and Rachmaninoff. Invariably these Titans of the piano play their beloved and IMMORTAL STEINWAY Available in many styles and sizes for the home . . . From 1425 Ask for a free copy of "Four Easy Roads to Steinway Ownership" LYON & HEALY Wabash Avenue at Jackson Boulevard and Six Neighborhood Stores land made fresh history in aviation and marked the most notable progress in flying in the past decade. Not only were records smashed, but the efficiency of the air-cooled motors, which powered practically one hun- dred per cent of the planes, was clearly demonstrated in every con ceivable manner. Another important factor was the total absence of fatalities, which, in the past interna tional air races, marred those contests. Trophy and Game Room THOMAS E. SMITH'S INTERIORS Twentieth Century Interiors expressing the correct new modern movement for the club, residence or office. Featuring Metal and Glass Furniture and specially designed Disappearing Cocktail Bars 2970 Sheridan Road Bittersweet 4600 PERSONAL INTELLIGENCE A Monthly Review of the Social Scene (Begin on page 38) help in so many ways it would be hard to list them. Mrs. John Gary, Mrs. Clifford Rod man, Mrs. Edward Ryerson, and Mrs. Edward R. Litsinger, selling advertis ing, all come to mind when I start scrambling up notes of the Fashion Show. And such good-looking young matrons as Mrs. Rodman, her sister Mrs. Russell Kelley (the Field sisters), Mrs. "Larry" Williams, Mrs. Walter Paepcke, and undoubtedly Mrs. William Mitchell Blair modeling for the Michigan Avenue Shop where she has a job; and aristocratic Princess Rostislav, all these we may be sure ol, and such sparkling debutantes as Betty Brown, the Charles Edward Browns' de luxe edition of her bril liant mother; Baby Clow — who goes to Munich to the Countess Harrach's with her mother Mrs. "Billy" Clow, Jr., right after the show; Helen Mc- Cormick, the Robert Hall McCor- mick's debutante; these are just my own "early morning line" selections, for the authentic list of who will have these highly desirable modeling jobs, Mistresses Perry and Faurot will un doubtedly keep for one of the large barrages of publicity just before the show. Th ere's hardly anything new to tell you about the Service Club's Hit It L/p revue after the columns and columns that have appeared in the daily press, except perhaps this one interesting bit. Mrs. Charles Conrad, dear earnest lady that she is, did not want under any circumstances, to have any of the choruses photographed this year for publication, wearing nothing but their scant practice rompers. She had the viewpoint entirely of the girls' parents who shriek and tear their hair, and even in some cases remove their daughters from the show when they see a lovely graceful picture of their darlings doing a one-two-three kick for a news photographer. There seems to be this mental reservation about it all : the girls may wear regu lar or irregular chorus girl costumes to give the show in the Civic Opera House before several hundred friendly critics, but no pictures of them so adorned or unadorned must be pub lished. Somehow, I believe, Mrs. Conrad's objections were overruled, the pictures were taken, though with much more discreet posing than other years, and one picture editor — him self a father and a grandfather, picked the most innocuous of the quite innocent posturings of some of the nicest and sweetest girls in town to publish. Leaving out of it all the fun of getting this revue up, these youngsters do work like Spartans rehearsing every morning, and sometimes at night, and they'll keep at it right up to the 24th when they hope to make about $15,000 at one fell swoop, if Betty Offield sells all the boxes at a hundred each, and the ticket commit tee, headed by Ann Elizabeth Walsh, gets rid of several hundred tickets at fifteen and ten dollars a pair. (No reduction this year because of the new buying power of the dollar — or the new English silver standard.) Mrs. Stanley Zaring — the president of the Service Club tells me that among the best dancers in the show this year: Miss Walsh, Miss Offield, Florence Carr, Jane Fortune, Grace Fitzmorris and Emily Pope will have some of the "specialty" leads — and Mrs. John Dern, the former Jean McLeish, brings in the news of the show as it develops. \V E don't go in for back stair gossip, but the drawing- room variety always intrigues our fancy. Here's some of it: The new Mrs. Cyrus McCormick, wife of Cyrus the younger, talented sculp tress, and pupil of Archipenko, says she won't give an exhibition of her work here this winter lest she be judged as a McCormick rather than an artist. She may give one in New York, however, under a nom de plume, or nom de chisel and mallet. She finished, before she went to Santa Fe this summer, at her north side studio, a fine torso that her friends have been admiring. There is said to be in process of formation by several of the town's most charming spinsters an organiza tion to be known as "Eligibles Choose Here." The idea is that the ladies will hunt, not alone, but in mass for mation, those few wily young bach elors and widowers who are still left, giving them the rush of their lives, so that they won't have time to do any wooing of out-of-town girls. It seems like a grand protective measure when you consider that about a dozen eligibles have picked ladies from other cities in the past few months: Cyrus McCormick, Thorne Donnelley, Fred eric McLaughlin, II, Stewart Harvey, Burford Porter, Carroll Sudler, Ezra Warner, Jr., George Thorne, Jr., Fowler McCormick, and several more I can't just remember this minute. And if you'd be interested in a rumor: The news has seeped through from New York that John Erskine, he who wrote the memorable Private Life of Helen of Troy will be married tc the daughter of a Chicago banker sometime within the year. And to conclude: I heard that Mrs. Clifford Rodman has gained the un dying respect of most of her hard riding friends for the courage she displayed a few weeks ago when she announced at a Lake Forest luncheon that she had given up hunting for "I'm scared to death every time my horse balks at a fence, and I just can't stand the nervous strain of it, so I'm through," she said. No one will ever call her a coward for that honest fear, and certainly it took a great lion-hearted courage to admit it. If at least half a dozen other women who ride to hounds had that courage, they'd admit it simply terrifies them (some of them get out of it whenever they conceivably can), but they've got to be good sports, and risk a broken collar bone and they'll never give in. The Chicagoan SOMETHING OLD - SOMETHING NEW: °Jfie SPINET G A. revival of an old colonial square with exquisite tone quality, possessing unique decorative value . It is moderately priced. BISSELL-WEISERT T)iana Court -540 North Michigan«5uyDer/or5426 Coupe de \S\aitre Father knew that a gift of Allegretti's was a master stroke in courtship . . . But it wasn't possible in Father's day to drop in for luncheon or tea at Alle gretti's . . . Following the trend of the day, Allegretti's have innovated two new rooms for lunch or tea . . . The Grotto ... 11 East Adams Street . . . modern and delightful . . . The Deck . . . 228 Michigan Avenue South . . . smart rendezvous for lunch or tea . . . Either of these — The Grotto or The Deck — are conven ient eating and meeting places . . . Excellent food and service . . . and, of course, the inimitable Allegretti's chocolates ... an accepted matter of good taste . . . THE DECK-S28 MICHIGAN AVENUE SOUTH THE GROTTO-1 1 EAST ADAMS STREET and 61 EAST WASHINGTON STREET Old World Simplicity \\ew world smartness combined in this Howard Baby Grand, French Provincial design in walnut or mahogany. This graceful authentic period design in the Howard blends perfectly with the decorative scheme of the modern apartment. Respon' sive action — colorful tone. A Product of Baldwin Only $785 Your own budget plan THE BALDWIN PIANO COMPANY 323 South Wabash Avenue October, 1931 71 There's No Place Like Home Variations on an Old Theme By Janet Spitzer NOTHING more encouraging to a girl about to furnish her home has happened in years than the advent of tradition furniture at Marshall Field's. Just why they call it by so formal a name, I don't exactly know. The man who is responsible for it all, says the furniture is made in the tradition of the famous 18th and 19th century cabinet makers. Any way, it is the grandest thing in the way of furniture that has come to brighten up this life in a long while. The wonder is that no one has done it before. A whole city apartment on the eighth floor of Field's uses this fur niture with intriguing schemes of decoration that do not involve ex pensive materials. The proper home of tradition furniture, however, is up on the ninth floor, along with the antiques. But here is one young thing who never even noticed the antiques, I was so busy discovering that all these swell adaptations are really comfortable and really built to fit a modern apartment, no mat ter how small. These pieces have the glowing finish that is supposed to be found only in old furniture, without being warped or musty. A knockout piece, for instance, is a fruitwood sideboard, beautifully mellow and a joy to behold. It is only eighteen inches deep which makes it a boon to the small dining room. The tag attributed it to Louis XVI style, and you could have knocked me over with a feather. In my ignorance, I thought that only modern furniture could be so smartly unadorned. And the price was less than a third of the cost of an original Louis, XVI sideboard. Even early American furniture comes into its own again. These boys can put a finish on maple wood that makes reproductions of colonial beds and chests look heavenly, just when I thought I could never bear the sight of the stuff again. Inspired by Biedermeier, they have fash ioned furniture which turns out to be what we have sought all these seasons for our mod ern rooms. Apparently it doesn't need a pri vate mint, or a great mind for design either. The pieces fairly speak ideas and arrange ments. If you want to know what I mean, go and see the bedroom which uses Biedermeier furniture in a modern background. The effect is stunning. There are lots of more formal pieces too, for those rooms already started with heirlooms and prises bought in the halcyon days. Duncan Phyfe dining tables, Sheraton sideboards, Eng lish secretaries and an adorable Regency dresser. Then suddenly there is a ducky little fruitwood coffee table, charming in shape and costing less than $25. Most of the pieces have been copied from originals in homes or private collections abroad, so there is small likelihood of seeing them around much. I don't know who did the picking, but he managed to dig out a good many unusual things I could care for. There's a sort of Recamier sofa with a curving back that would make any gal want to be a lady again. The white lapin coverlet A SMALL ENTRANCE HALL IS TREATED AMUSINGLY. FLUTED COLUMNS AND URNS OF FLOWERS ARE PAINTED ON THE WALL. THE SETTEE IS PAINTED WHITE AND IS UPHOLSTERED IN AN TIQUED WHITE HORSEHIDE. ONE VIEW OF THE LIVING ROOM SHOW ING A COMFORTABLE GROUP AROUND THE FIREPLACE. THE WHITE RUG WITH BLACK SPOTS IS FROM MOROCCO. THE FLOOR IS COVERED IN BLACK LINOLEUM. suggested to go with it makes the whole idea utterly irresistible for the long winter after noons that are closing in on us. I for one shall have a salon forthwith. Speaking of moving, as someone always is, there's a boon for hearts in despair over the wall paper situation! Lloyd's is the place for you, if your decorators are the kind who show you paper that looks like a nightmare of enlarged puffed wheat, and the landlord is an old meanie who won't allow you more than a pittance to get the paper yourself. Up on the fifth floor of a building on south Wabash Avenue, is a large quiet room whose walls are lined with cubbyholes in which are sample rolls of wall paper; hundreds and hun dreds of samples. On a flap over each cubby hole is a piece of the particular paper cached there, so that you can wander around at will until you see something worth investigating. Not that a salesman won't be glad to help you if you know what you want. And they are pretty sure to have it, whatever it is. But if you don't know what you want, no one cares if you browse around until you find your dream paper. What makes the place a joy to those of us who long for the simple life is the great variety of pattern-less papers. The mono tone paper is really a {Continued on page 74) 72 The Chicagoan In the New Mezzanine Shop A charming Schiaparelli type (rock in wool or silk crepe in the new fall shades and black. With smart metal rings and con trasting scarfs $55 Many other New Fall Frocks at $35 and $55. The Felt Beret is an Agnes reproduction priced at ... $1 8 Modes Custom Tailored or ready to put on 545 Michigan Avenue North '..::.„,.¦: o>L^ ?AZYBOY"— Philco's newest Balanced Superheterodyne, designed especially for loungers. Encased in a new and unique utility cabinet, this supine superhet is the laziest, easiest radio to operate in the -world. Cabinet and tapestry designed by Norman Bel Geddes. Complete with seven tubes, including the new pentode power tube, $69.50. E COMMONWEALTH EDISON LECTRIC SHOP 72 West Adams Street, and Branches s ARNOLD'S 540 N. Mirhigan Ave. DIANA COURT Chanel's Most Original New Bag a really stun ning new bag .... trimmed with real jade .... in Black or Brown french antelope suede .... 12.50 f, ¦A iiiiHI Sit jjljiij FAMOUS ATHLETES' GHOSTS A Key to Page 27 THE photographs on page 27 are, of course, of the journalistic gen' tlemen who actually produce the published articles signed by the athletes whose names appear below the pictures. The following list makes it all clear: Barney Oldfield: Steve Hanagan, ex-Chicago Herald and Examiner, unattached. Tommy Loughran: Jack Kofoed, "Hew Yor\ Evening Post. Lou Gehrig: Frank Graham, ~H.ew Yor\ Evening Sun. Art Shires: John C. Hoffman, ex-Chicago Daily 7<[ews, unattached. Jack Dempsey : Frank G. Menke, International News Service. Lefty Grove : Bob Paul, Philadelphia J^lews. Joe McCarthy: Warren Brown, Chicago Herald and Examiner. Kiki Cuyler: Red Marberry, ex-Chicago Evening Post, unattached. Gabby Street: J. Roy Stockton, St. Louis Post Dispatch. Bobby Jones: O. B. Keeler, Atlanta Journal. Rogers Hornsby: James Crusinberry, Chicago Daily T<lews. A. A. StagG: Wesley Stout, Saturday Evening Post. Nick Altrock: Neal O'Hara, Boston Traveler. Connie Mack: James C. Isaminger, Philadelphia Inquirer. Max Schmeling: Paul Gallico, J<[ew Yor\ Daily K[ews. Babe Ruth : Ford C. Frick, T<[ew Tor\ Evening Journal. (Note: Mr. A. A. Stagg and Mr. Robert T. Jones, Jr. now do all of their own writing.) October, 1931 73 This important gown in cream satin exemplifies the taste and discrimination of the McAvoy collection. An evening wrap in velvet and mountain sable com' pletes this youthful ensemble. McAVOY • 615 N. MICHIGAN AVENUE • CHICAGO Superior 8720 QUALITY $55 SUITS FOR $39.50 OCTOBER SALE SELECMAN'S, INC The Young Men's Shop 31 5 Plymouth Court Just South of Jackson Between, State and Dearborn Edna McRae American Dancer A genuine American school A cosmopolitan curriculum ballet : classic steps like fine-cut gems character: life and fire in impassioned feet tap sophisticated soles get all the breaks Studio : Lyon & Healy Building 64 E. Jackson Blvd. Webster 3772 UNDER THE WINDOW OF THE DINING ROOM IS LARGE ENOUGH, THERE SHOULD BE A SMALL TABLE AND COMFORTABLE FOR BREAK FAST FOR TWO. THE GROUP SHOWN HERE IS PART OF THE CITY APARTMENT. NO PLACE LIKE HOME Some Notes on Modern Decoration (Begin on page 72) solid color with thread'like white lines criss-crossed over it. This gives a clear one-color effect that is simply elegant. There is a sunny yellow, for example, and a lovely sky blue. And if you want white walls where the plaster is too cracked to paint, Lloyd's can give you a swell plain white paper that looks like smooth shelf paper, only heavier. It does wonders to the humblest walls and can be washed too. P. S.: These are not expensive. You can tell gadget inventors over and over that there's nothing new under the sun, but they go right on trying just the same. Now there is still another suggestion out that is supposed to make squeezing oranges a pleasure. It is a strong metal whatnot and the best way to see how it works is to dash in to that Walgreen's on the corner. They've been using it for a while, and now it is available for home consumption at Von Lengerke 6? Antoine. They claim that it does as well by lemons as oranges and has even been known to be effective with not overly large grapefruit. If you want the last word in kitchen efficiency, it will cost you about $22.50. V. L. ii A. also offers a bright idea to the perfect hostess. Now that you can have cigarettes of every brand marked for all your guests, along comes a smoke consumer to clear the air for those who don't care for smoke first or second hand. The LIVING ROOM OF THE CLYDE S. BLAIR RESIDENCE, WINNETKA. 74 The Chicagoan Visit Harding's New Dining Room 68 W* Madison St. — Second Floor — Drop in for luncheon or dinner and enjoy the pleasant surround ings of Chicago's beautiful new dining room. Complete table service will prevail throughout the day and evening, featuring a variety of home cooked special dishes. Open from 10:30 A. M. to 9:00 P.M., including Sundays. You Will Like It! JJUST WONDEHmt FOOD~3 ^-jr ON MADISON ST. EARL BURTNETT And His Orchestra With Kirkpatrick, Jarrett, Conklin & Robinson And a Brilliant Show Favorite Stars of Stage and Radioland Dinner Dancing from 7 p. m. to closing ~N.o cover charge Table d'hote dinner and a la carte service For Reservations phone Dearborn 6262 The New Blackhawk 139 North Wabash GOOD CHEER * GOOD FOOD For thirty years the Red Star has been a gathering place for those who appre' ciate German hospitality and German food. And now, in 1931, it still maintains its important position in Chicago restau rant life. JUb isrtar 3mt C. Gallauer, Proprietor 1528 N. Clark Street Delaware 0440-3942 AN ACHIEVEMENT OF ELEGANCE Truly the most distinctive hotel offering of the day. Interestingly different. Refreshingly new. Furnished with an individual elegance which completes true home environment. Service of the finest. All conve niences. Roof garden — children's playroom, terrace and shops. An apartment hotel offering an extra measure of happiness and pride. Conveniently located but 9 minutes to the loop. Unfurnished suites for those who desire. A gratifyingly low rate — standard to all — offering greater value than may be found elsewhere. Preview of completely furnished floor open now — occupancy October 1st. PHIL C. CALDWELL, Personally Directing 5200 BLACKSTONE AVENUE Phone Midway 7050 Christmas Greetings that your friends will keep Etchings Hand printed, hand wiped. Something of your home, fireplace, entrance, library or summer cottage. A real greeting, for to your friends your environment is part of you. Sketches submitted Monroe S\etches and ideas submitted for Commercial Greeting Cards Wm. Mark Young 310 South Racine Ave. October, 193 1 75 A Beauty Treatment Created for You Alone IF YOU are seeking personalized beauty treatments come to the Salon of Helena Rubinstein, the Salon complete . . . Here under one roof is all that you need for your beauty— individualized treatments for your skin — your eyes — your hair — your body — your hands and feet. Treatments ad ministered by specialists under the super vision of the world's foremost specialist. Helena Rubinstein welcomes you always, whether you come for treatments — or guidance in giving yourself home treat ments. So drop in for a chat about the latest make-up news from Paris or a pre scription for banishing sallowness, freck les, the weather-beaten, after - summer look Convince yourself — stay a few hours or a day and be completely beau tified and youthified ! On sale at the Salon and at leading Department and Drug Stores. Helena rubinstein 670 No. Michigan Ave., Chicago Phone: Whitehall 4241 LONDON • PARIS Let's Play "Tickle-Kit" The Game for "Adults'9 You'll LAUGH! You'll SCREAM!! You'll like it. The funniest game you ever played, for 2 to 20. Clip coupon and shoot us a quarter for the Ice-Breaker of the Ages. 25c SEND 25c and Help End the Depression Tickle-Kit Corp. (not incorp.) Box 714, Wheaton, 111. Gentlemen : Here's your 2 bits. Now make me laugh! Send a TICKLE-KIT. ~N^ame. Address 'The Uncle Tom's Cabin of Prohibition!" Revelations — The "inside" story, a nightmare of reali ty hitherto withheld from the public, re vealed by a "total abstainer who threw his heart and soul into an endeavor to enforce the 18th amendment — and failed!" By Colonel Ira L. Reeves, Former Pro hibition Administrator of l\ew Jersey. READ— What Woodrow Wilson Predicted ! READ— What William Howard Taft Foresaw! 0 —"Seizure of $1,000,000 a month, for months, in one state alone, did not affect the illegal supply of drinks." (See page 261) A — "Millions of dollars of liquors are transported with the knowledge of railroad officials. "(See page 140) A — "Two-thirds of the price of il licit liquor goes to officers sworn to enforce the laws." (See page 273) At all book dealers, $2.50 ROCKWELL BOOKS THOMAS S. ROCKWELL COMPANY 343 South Dearborn Street, Chicago THE WIDELY NOTED ROBERT H. MORSE RESIDENCE IN LAKE FOREST CONTAINS THIS STRIKING POWDER ROOM. smoke consumer is small and inoffen' sive looking, not likely to interfere with any decoration scheme. You fill it with a liquid, and when you want it to perform you remove the top, light it. It will flare up and after a second you blow out the flame and leave a glow. Presto, the smoke has disappeared and everyone can breathe nature's own air again. It comes from France and with a sup ply of the liquid costs only about $5. The ever increasing number of beer drinkers may be interested to know that very amusing genuine looking beer mugs have just arrived at V. L. 6? A. too, with good old German inscriptions. Some have hinged pewter covers and some are plain. HOME SUITE HOME What! No Ocver-Productio?i f Bv Ruth G . B k r g m a n SHORTAGE is a good word, too. In the heyday of the big paper profit it was held in contempt. Today, when over-production is play ing the villain of the piece and we mark the entrance of a shortage with a long and loud burst of applause, it is gratifying to hear that Chicago's over-supply of houses isn't as far over as it used to be. In fact, real "" ¦ ¦^jg«.:.... ¦ 3 ¦ ,,„« ¦—^~ ; . ¦ - -"- • f~rr^== '""¦¦¦ "¦ s ! i ^ • ¦¦ •• f ~r ^!MBg| ¦; ) : -| "jy iljf&^ 1 t!l,!""l V iffv i i -\ OLD ENGLISH TAPROOM REPRODUCED IN THE BASEMENT OF THE FRANK V. BRACH RESIDENCE, EVANSTON. 76 The Chicagoan h 2 reenbrier and Cottages TVhite Sulphur Springs 'West "M irginia America's Most Beautiful All -Year ReSOrt Winter Leases L.R.JOHNSTON.General iiiiiliiiJ^ tie SflVOY-PLflZfl HENRYA.ROST President Ideally located on Fifth Avenue at the entrance to Central Park, The Plaza and The Savoy- Plaza offer the highest standards of hos pitality. .. every thing to make your visit an en joyable one. * * * Reservations for the NATIONAL HOTEL of CUBA mti^ be made at The PLAZA and The SAVOY-PLAZA New York The COPLEY- PLAZA Boston HOT€LS OF DisnncTion PLflZfl FRED STERRY President JOHN D. OWEN Manager The DIANA BLANKET IN THE DIANA BUILDING All Wool Full Size 6 Colors Satin Ribbon Ends $coo Ml UK IN MICMlGAr>UVl± Florence Jackson's Barn Antiques 919 North Michigan Palmolive Building 540 North Michigan Diana Court October, J93J 77 FRANCONIA WORLD CRUISE Intimate, priceless contacts with the world at large . . . rich and varied experience . . . stimulating associations. A superb itinerary . . . including, without extra cost, glorious primitive Bali . . . Saigon . . . Zam- boanga . . . Canton, Korea, Nikko . . . and all the other worthwhile high lights of a round-the-world voyage. 140 eventful days, 33 ports. Greatly reduced rates... $1 750 up. A proven cruise ship, built for world cruising . . . ensuring direct docking at the majority of the ports. Sailing Eastward from New York Jan. 9 next. Literature from your Local Agent or CUNARD LINE 346 N. Michigan Ave., Chicago TH0S.C00K E- SON 350 N. Michigan Ave., Chicago S Rp5 AN INTERESTING VIEW OF THE LIBRARY IN S. HENRY FOREMAN'S HIGHLAND PARK HOUSE. estate operators in the suburbs are going so far as to predict an actual shortage of their wares in the near future. This optimistic pronouncement has its basis in the already decreased ratio between demand and supply in the case of suburban residences. Re ports from many communities indi cate fewer vacancies and a livelier de mand than agents have known in some time. That we are beginning to catch up with our building pro gram of the rose colored glasses decade is the more remarkable in view of the recent trend in the opposite direction, that is, the tendency of the two house family to give up one residence and of the one house family to take in another family to help meet expenses. If the number of available houses can diminish under such con ditions, what a grand and glorious shortage we will have, say real estate men, when the economic tide turns and the doubled up families separate and the suburbanite again desires a winter home in town and the gold coaster begins to look for something new and fine in the way of a summer cottage. /\N attractive new apartment hotel has recently opened its doors in Hyde Park. This is the Blackwood, a pleasing limestone and brick building that stands fourteen stories high at the corner of Black stone Avenue and Fifty-second Street. Its 156 apartments consist of two to five rooms each with a great pre dominance of four room units. A five room apartment has two well proportioned bedrooms and a kitch enette, which, in the matter of size, is practically a kitchen. Most of the four room suites (one bed room) have in-a-door beds, some double, some twin, in the living rooms. Some of the smaller apart ments omit the bedrooms, others combine kitchenette and dinette. All are generously provided with closets. The apartments are furnished in several different styles interchange able for tenants who have very definite views about Early American or modern pieces; or they may be rented unfurnished. At any rate there is enough variety to satisfy many different temperaments. Only the kitchen equipment is identical throughout and there really is very little fault to find with its ivory and green charms. The built-in cases are metal and therefore sanitary, and, what is still more unusual in kitchen ettes, not so high as to be beyond the reach of any but the most diminutive cooks. In the majority of kitchenettes a step ladder is standard and very necessary equipment; the Blackwood culinary departments run more to width than height and the five room apartments have kitchens big enough to hold such luxuries as a table and a chair or two. Automatic ventilation promises relief from the chronic complaints from which more primitive kitchenettes have suffered. Another mechanical improvement is concealed radiation throughout the building. A special inducement to children is the large playroom on the four teenth floor. All residents are offered the privilege of a roof garden and of a terrace which adjoins the lobby on the main floor. The base ment contains a large and well equipped garage for the convenience of tenants. Rentals, which are de cidedly reasonable, include full hotel service. W'hile other forms of building activity continue unfor tunately to languish, housing remains a subject of great interest to many people. So far the effect has been rhetorical, for the most part, but where there is so much smoke there must eventually be some home fires. President Hoover's national confer ence on home building and home ownership is called for December 2. During the week following, more than a thousand delegates from all parts of the country will confer in Washington. This meeting, the first in the United States on such a large scale, will be the culmination of a year's research and discussion by divisional committees. More than four hundred civic and business leaders have par ticipated. The delegates will discuss all phases of the subject of home building and ownership from prob lems of financing to household man agement and questions of design and equipment to city planning. Every state will be represented at the conference. "The question (of housing)," said President Hoover when he called the conference, "touches many phases of both public and private activity. One of the important questions is finance. The present depression has given Insist upon TOMATO COCKTAIL "X7"OU wouldn't choose a -*- glass of thin, watery, flat-tasting milk to one fresh from the country — thick, creamy, full-bodied, would you? No! That's exactly why you'll prefer original College Inn Tomato Juice Cocktail. It's the utmost in full-bodied, full-flavored tomato juice; made from whole tomatoes — red, ripe and juicy; hand picked — and then blended into a delicate spicy cocktail — not overdone; seasoned with rare delicacy to please and cheer. And it's packed by the new, exclusive Hi- Vita process; preserves all the original flavor and vitamins. Always put up in glass containers — you see what's inside — and the new cap is amazingly easy to take off. Drink original College Inn Tomato Juice Cocktail to day. Learn the difference. You'll never change! At your dealer's. (oil ege nn THE ORIGINAL TOMATO JUICE C O C KTA I L College Inn Food Products Co. .... Chicago Hotel Sherman . . 415 Greenwich St. New York 78 The Chicagoan DINE and DANCE Where Food and Music Are on Their Best LUNCHEON 11:30 a. m. to 2:30 p. m. 85c DINNER 5:30 to 9:00 p. m. $1.50 Dancing Daily till 1 A. M. Saturdays till 2:30 A. M. TERRACE GAR DEN in the Morrison Hotel Clark and Madison Sts. r> B*OAr, 'n *h, MANN'S RAINBO Sea Food Tavern 73 East Lake Street A Step Off Michigan Avenue HOTtV- 1>S A^E tbe cetut unCeS "and H_is A o#° n pan ftand, *n ^0orcv. Otoli M- • « from 6l> r _rV evening J 50 cing Every Vim*' «^ ^ ^O COVER October, 1931 79 AND NONA/ THAT YOU'VE RETURNED from the bearsteaks of the Northwest, the beefsteaks of the Southwest, and the domestic fish of the lakes region thoughts of the sweet amenities and the sauces of French cuisine must excite you. Lamb chops Maison d'Or, Chateau briand, mussels or shrimps with mari- niere sauce, ome lette au fromage, chicken with meu- niere sauce, filet mignon with bear- naise sauce, deep sea trout with mar- guery sauce. Though you realize that you've returned to town, when you've dined at L'AIGLON you'll realize that you've returned to civil ization. Cuisine Francaise Music, Six to One In the Arcade of the Arcade Building A quiet little spot where tempting foods may be had at reasonable prices, especially suitable for dinner when the family is dining out together. SHEPARD TEA ROOM Webster 3163 616 S. Michigan Avenue HEALTHY, HOME - RAISED CAIRN TERRIER PUPPIES Best possible breeding. Sired by Famous of Caytonbay, Winners Dog at 1931 West minster Show, out of a daughter of Cham pion Cairnvreckan Merlin. $100 each. Winnetka 4-4!). MRS. BENJAMIN W. PRICE 944 Euclid Ave., Hubbard Woods, III. . emphasis to the fact that the credit system in home building is not as satisfactorily organized as other branches of credit. . . . First mort gages . . . have been affected by competition with bonds and other forms of investments. Second mort' gages are also necessary to many people. In the period of expansion preceding the current depression rates for second mortgages, including commissions, discounts and other charges rose in many cities to the equivalent of twenty or twentyfive per cent per annum. This not only stifled home ownership, but led to the loss of many homes through the trades involved." With so much thought being directed toward the problems of the householder it is hoped than an ever increasing number of Americans will be singing with conviction, "there's no place like home." BLACK TIGHTS A Short Story of the Dance (Begin on page 53) called. The girls were encased in long, close-fitting sheaths of transparent net, their whit ened bodies gleaming through. Their heads were crowned with small sun- disks. The boys wore black wigs, stiff, circular collars, and Egyptian loin-cloths. There were many ges tures of tilting wine-jugs, and a f i antic passing of wine-cups to and fro. The singers of the chorus kept shouting, "Aphrodisiac! Aphro disiac!" He began to feel ashamed of danc ing in the corps de ballet. After all, it was much the same as it would be to dance in "the chorus. " That was something you could never do. He decided to keep his dancing in the Opera a secret. On the opening night he met a group of his friends in the lobby. He let them suppose that he, like them selves, was there merely to see the performance. He pretended to be waiting for someone who was late. When his friends had entered the theatre he went back to the stage door. After the ballet he removed the tan paint from his body as quickly as he could, and hurried to the foyer in time to meet his friends. "Say!" exclaimed one of the boys, "Could you feature those undressed dames in the ballet?" "What about the sissies in the loin cloths?" countered one of the girls in a shrill voice. The remark stung him sharply. But they did not know his secret. They caught him jovially by the arm, and led him away to have coffee. XlE began to dream again of the dance-bodies of poems. Their intangible, pure forms haunted, but nourished him. The certainty of their existence, and the difficulty of perceiving them was like eating a hard, green fruit. When he saw them clearly enough he wrote down the words. -LIE determined now to study the dance with another great Russian, one about whom all the world was talking. Not since Noverre, the critics said, had there been such a choregraphic genius. To study an hour with the great dancer would cost more money than he got dancing in the Opera in a week. Two of his friends in the ballet decided to share the lessons with him. They must sign an agreement to take a course of lessons, the great dancer told them. He showed them many attitudes. He would say, "This beautiful. This not beautiful." At the last lesson the great ballet master said to him, "Feet beautiful." His feet had remembered. Finally he left the Opera. JTT.E knew a vaude ville singer who asked him to go into an act with her. As soon as the act was "set" they would be headed for "big time." They decided to do black face be cause she was a fat girl, and she wanted to play an old Southern mammy, and to open with Spirituals. He was to be a scare-crow, hang ing upon its cross in the garden. Be cause she had had a drink from her boot-flask, she would believe the scare-crow had come to life to haunt her. As she fled in terror he would throw off the straw suit, to reveal himself as a black, dancing shadow. Whi!e he wove his shadow-patterns she would transform herself. She would come out as a magnificent "eight rock" in a gown of shimmer ing silver, set off by an orange feather fan. Then she would sing "some thing worth while." On the second chorus he would strut out in a full dress suit, brandishing a stove-pipe 846 No. Michigan Ave. Chicago Our new Importations of ever fascinating Chinese and Japanese Art Objects and J^lovelties are now on display. Lamps Desk Ornaments Smoking Articles Flower Bowls Antique Brocades Table Covers GASTON'S LOUISIANE Michigan Ave. at 14th St. Michigan 1837 "Where dining is still an Art Dancing every evening A La Carte Table d'Hote $1.75 "To know how to eat is Gods greatest gift to mankind. To me the most ig norant mortal is the person who has never dined. Some people tell me that they never think of food as being of any consequence, yet it is the body builder, the one thing of which we must have the right amount. But the curse of mankind is overeating. My motto still is Eat Little— Eat Well." —GASTON COUTHOUI for TICKETS 80 The Chicagoan 1*31 1 i fid' i $1 / ' &$M (-1- EuSlV' October, 1931 81 The HAZEL SHARP School of DANCING WHY DANCE? PLATO says : Dance to be well educated. HAVELOCK ELLIS says: To dance is to ta\e part in the cosmic control of the world. YOUR COUTURIER says: Dance to gain a fashionably slender physique — a figure that can carry the mode. BALLET TAP BALL ROOM KIMBALL BUILDING 25 E. Jackson Bl. WABash 0305 BACKGAMMON Improve your win ning chances before you enter any prize game. Learn the fine points and all the de tails about Backgam mon. Private Instructions Mr. Gabriel 639 Morrison Hotel Phone — Dearborn 5118 Ellen Jrench • Now showing beautiful new fall merchandise, moderately priced • 5206 Sheridan Road DIANA COURT SALON Distinctively designed for intimate audiences. Avail able For recitals, lectures, club programs and meetings. Now booking for next season. • Increase Robinson Director Telephone — Delaware 3745 Mezzanine 540 N. Michigan Avenue hat and a cane. They spent all of their money on the costumes. He got a young man to whom he had given some dancing lessons to build the scare-crow's cross. They had wanted a collapsible cross that could be carried in a suit-case. But the one which was built for them would not work that way. He had to carry it under his arm. When they could afford it they hired a hall for an hour or two. It was very tiring and expensive rehears ing the act to get it "set." Once she got a chance to make some phonograph records. She was very happy, because they wanted her to sing The Song of India, and the money would help them with the act. Then they told her the records would have to be signed by a popular Negro singer who held the contract, but whose voice had "gone bad." After she sang the song she came home and cried. Ume day a manager promised to watch the rehearsal. They got into the subway with the scare-crow's cross and a great suit case packed with costumes. When they arrived at the hall they blacked themselves with burnt cork. They began to go through their routines while waiting for the manager. Everything was getting nicely "set." Presently the time-keeper looked in the door. "Ten minutes more," he called. The manager had not come. They had to hurry to make them selves ready for the street. He found a fire-bucket under a red light. They used the water in it to wash off the burnt cork. After a while they got dates in small, outlying theatres. They took the ferry across the river. They had a good time with the sharp, fresh wind blowing in their faces. Some times he would look out across the water and think of poems. She wore a blue cape, and a little round, blue hat. She bobbed her bright, blond hair, so that it would lie well under a bandanna, and under the black, frizzy wig she wore as they ended the act "in one." When the boat tied up on the other side of the river, and they had gathered up the bags and the scare crow's cross, she would say, "When we're on big time we won't have to carry anything at all." On the dressing-room floor was a small theatre to play five shows dur ing the day. He set the scare-crow's cross on the stage beside a parrot and two poodle dogs. "Holy cockeye!" exclaimed the animal trainer. "What are you going to put on — the Passion Play?" On the dressing-room floor was a pool of water which had escaped from a broken pipe in the wall. There was no wash basin in the room. After two shows it was dinner time. He had to pass through the audience in order to reach a lavatory where he could remove the grimy cork from his face. They went out to a little restaurant and ate. When the last show was over he pulled off the black tights. His legs were cold and blue. He felt sick. He went to the lavatory and washed off the burnt cork. They folded up their costumes and packed them into the great suit-case. He took the scare-crow's cross under his arm again. They got on the ferry. Her blue cape fluttered in the wind. "I watched you tonight from the wings," she said. "You were like a black panther." Then suddenly: "But I know it — there isn't any use . . . there just isn't any use. ..." "I hate it," he said at last. They both looked out over the dark water for a long time. They felt cold, and stopped for a cup of coffee. XTe was free. But his mind went on dancing. The dancing was like a poem. He began gathering the poems to gether. They made a little book. "His book is a long ballet. His are gestures in which the poet ap pears as surrounded by a halo of mystical glory, sometimes — and some times as a mere man, posing, trying to be beautiful," said one fervent critic. Said another: "Who knows what wild freedom lay in the heart of the great, the lost, Nijinsky? Perhaps some day this poet-dancer can tell us something of this." The Accepted Center of Social Activities Society makes Shore- land its rendezvous. The enchanting private party rooms — the evi dent luxury, true refine ment, continental serv ice have made Hotel Shoreland the rec ognized center for every social activity. For every occasion, our catering staff pro vides original ideas, programs, and menus to make your affair differentand individ ual. Weddings, din ners, luncheons, dances — parties of every description — are successful at Hotel Shoreland. For a dinner treat our Louis XVI dining room offers an extraor dinary menu, charm ing environment, de lightful dinner music. HOTEL SHORELAND 55th Street at the Lake Phone Ptoza IOO0 PEARSON 190 E. Pearson St. » Chicago A cultured hotel-home, where women who live alone ... or fam ilies . . . will find all of the niceties in appointments that bespeak refinement. Outstanding facilities for transient guests . . . and an extraordinary restaurant. All at decidedly attractive rates. miiniiniiii ROCOCO HOUSE 161 E. Ohio St. Smorgasbord — Special Sunday Dinner 1 to 9 o'clock Dinner Every Day — 5 to 9:30 Thursday Special — Squab Dinner Tel. Delaware 3688 M. Knoedler & Company Incorporated Established 1846 Works by Helen West Heller ¦f -f Paintings Water Colors and Etchings 622 S. Michigan Ave. Chicago New York Paris Telephone: Har London 0994 82 The Chicagoan §ocial § o I e c i s in § Kaufmann-Fabrv Photo And there, beneath the potted palms, is Wanda . . . wistful, waiting, wondering . . . pardon the tear I ^JHow quickly fades yesterday's deb-of-the-week . . . unless, of course, beneath the patina of prettiness there lies a heart of gold and a darn good gift of gab. Have you noticed how the town's jauntiest jeunesse are reading and quoting June Provines' "Gala World" in The Daily News these days? Here sparkles the day's best story, the choicest current chit chat, the pertest patter about the personalities and places of the moment. An invaluable fund of conversational fodder for every occasion. Let's tell Wanda about "This Gala World." ^fAnd let's add that those who follow O'Brien on Books, Stinson on Music, Lewis on the Stage and The Daily News on any- It's Smart to Read THE DAILY NEWS thing, seldom sit solo in any man's conservatory. Chicago's home newspaper The joy of the game, the pleasure of the company, the sparkle of White Rock and the distinctive taste of White Rock Ginger Ale — these make the unbeatable foursome.