The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1833-1916, 1906-10-29
BRIGHT LIGHTS OF BOHEMIA.
TEE PLEIADES CLUE STARTS ITS
FALL SEASON or GAYETY.
Beatrice Morgan, a Real Actress. the guest
or Honor nc tho Opening Dtnne r-GOes
"a the POets' Club One Better IN the HRe
% Evening Dress mickey FINN Missing.

IN ~ FWghn GhbD UnG kbtNNtr W tUg hAue
o. Evening Dress Mickey FINN Mlssing.
Pink wine waves dashed high over the
fields Of undulating spaghetti that frings
the coast Of Bohemia when the Pleiadea
Club met for its opening dinner Of tho
season last night at the Hotel Brevoort,
Fifth avenue and Eighth street. President
John Nicholas Ryan, an insurance man,
presided, and h guest Of the evening was
Miss Beatrice Morgan, who fs an actress.
The Pleia1es Club has no home Of it,
own, but on each Sunday night during the
cold season the members gather together
for q meal to listen to the creations .of the
masters played on the banjo and to honor
some distinguished art worker by placing
him OF her at the seat If honor at the guest
table. The guest table differs from the
other tables in that IL il half moon shape
and has celery on it. Usually the guest
OF honor is an actor who il going to play in
town the following week, although efforts
are now making to have Edmund Russell,
who is not irregular actor, or Richard Hard
ing Davis, VINO is an author, take the seat
Of honor at a later meeting. o
Pleiades Club differs from the Poets
Club-which meets at Morreti's on Thurs
days-in that several OF the members affect
evening dress, Looking along the long
tables that ran down the banquet room Of
the Brevoort last night one saw a bunch
of plumes, then a bunch OF long hair rising
from a dinner coat, another bunch OF plumes
then perhaps q bald head, more plumes.
more hair and 80 on down to the press
table.
Through some mixup in the seating ar
engagements there we're also at the press
table Jane-last name nknown- Med
tord-Mass., and her friend Gertie. who also
came from Medford-Mass.. this fall, il was
gathered from the conversation, 10 study
drawing m the antique class at the Art
Students' League. Gertie has gone right
IN for Bohemianism, the Latin Quarter and
that sort Of thing and 30 has Joined the
Pleiades. Jane came to town last week.
20 Gertie said, TO spend Thank sgiving with
Gertie.
Before the oysters entered Secretary
Howard s. Nisman, who works in the Comp
t~roller's Office, told who was who.
The bright looking gentleman over there
Is Giuseppe Gilberti, a--the Boston musi-
clan. Near him are Roi G. Hill, who IN a
prominent actor in Proctor's stock, and
George Howell equally as prominent in
wurst. There's John Finnegan,. who is a
tenor--let me 500
Mickey Finn, the author is here, isn't
he2" Mr.. Nieman was asked.
NO, but he may be in later, : said Mr..
Nieman hopefully. But there's Miss Anna
Wynne, the playwright. Walt, III ask her
what she wrote.
Miss Wynne Is the author OF The Broken
B~ars'-plural, Bars-and she has also The
Best Man Wins Further down is f. o.
borne Smith, the best known real estate
man in The Bronx; but there's a pianist
further along, Miss Zelpha Barnes Wood.
And dom forget Miss Matte Sheridan,
the editor OF Men and Women Doubt
less you know that Charles Bowers. to the
right, is an-the artist. I've given you
Joha F~innegsn, the tenor. haven't ~"
By this time Gertie was putting olives
excitedly in Der macaroni and Jane was
catching her breath. Jane confessed that
when the idea of dining out on Sunday
night was first preached to her she had
hung back some. fearful lest the odd folks
in Medford, Mass, would hear of il. Jane
hadn't yet seen the wine
-Kipiing doesn't write the things he did
In his early days" they we're saying now
around the tables near by.
But don't you think he Is still capable,
but is being crowded a bit by younger,
fresher writer's with a more fRn-de-seckel
Viewpoint | mean that men like Upton
Sinclair or Robert Hunter, who touch the
chords Of the milk Of human kindness,
human suffering pass the horSeradish,
please, thank you-get closer down to the
elements that make for-Oh, | beg a thou
sand pardons, Mr.. Hooper. l didn't know
that glass was at my elbow. Take that yes
waistcoat on Immediately and wipe il dry
or IL win be ruined. As was saying, Kip
With a crash that ratified the glasses
the banjo and piano orchestra came on the
job with He Walked Right In And He
Turned Around And He Walked Right Out
Again" There was a cheer of approval
from the 200 diners as the pink PUNK
began and from that on the merriment
Of Bohemia broke out with a snort. Charley
Bo~wers-he's al artist started the ball
rolling by fitting from table to table to
ask the girl diners, DO you love that old
man?' and at the same time pointing mis-
chievously to their escorts.
oh, look who's hereF cried Charley at
other tables by way of variation. He had
q number Of others up his sleeve like See
that hump" and Fireman, save meh child"
but all in all the query. do you love that
old MANI" caused the most merriment.
w call this club the PReiades," explained
Mr.. Bowers when he had worked down as
far a. the press table, 1because, it's com
posed Of stars. 1 myself nm what might
he called an idea man. 1 invented the
words Uneeda and Nabisco and Zu-Zu and
the Duckback RaincOat and | designed the
shield used by the United Cigar people. /
Rlso--oh, look who's here! and Mr.. Bowers
ran over TO greet Arden Foster, president
Of the Poets Eating Club. who writes for his
own amusement.
The banjo orchestra was getting Town
70 its art now, and around the tables the
highbrows were sitting with bowed heads
and gazing dreamily along their shirt
fronts from black ties to white waistcoats
and back again. Jane of Medford-Mass
IOTgOt nRT SCTuDlcS a. Jnc ulNlne ndTu1OHlfce
foated across the macaroni, for there were
artists playing there on the dais who could
pick tende plunks high up on the banjo
neck like the chipping Of tiny birds in the
~Epringtime, who could roar you roars like
winds rushing through the forests.
Finally Toastmaster Ryan called upon
the guest Of honor, Miss Morgan. for a
enInt. Miss Morgan bashfully thanked
her entertainers and gave way to Charley
Bowers, who gave a whole minstrel show
unassisted.
whats the west end oh a dawg, Mistah
Bones?- Mr.. Bowers asked himself.
"Ah DON know. Mistah Bowahs. What
am de west end oh a dawg?" Mr.. Bowers
returned to himself.
All don know muffin bout il, Mistah
Bones, " continued Mr.. Bowers, -'Cept Alb zee
in the pa pa s a. how a cop shot a dawg
to-day in the west end. Pink plunk,
pink PUNK De hoy barytOne will now
sing, She should Be Scolded. but Never
Turned Adrift.'"
Il think We ought TO be going now, sug-
gested Jane to Gertie ~nervouaiy.
NO. let's wait for the song" pleaded
Gertie.
SanRMr, Bowers: