Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1906-08-19

IF the publishers are to be believed land who among
the literary profession would dream OF doubling
L that august body?) the demand for descriptions
of the doings and sayings of smart society is ncreas
ing among readers of fiction. The story of the emo
tons of duchess will sell into the ten thousands,
whereas the same adventures attributed to SUBJ
urban belle would be received with the coolest
indifference.
There is nothing requiring explanation in this.
All have thought what they would do if they were
king or John D. Rockefeller, or even social
leader, and SO they naturally like to hear now and
again about those who have actually attained to
this prominence.
But it does strike the dispassionate observer as
strange that the public should be willing, should
prefer, to receive its information from the
rankeSt outsiders. 1t just the other day that
book was counted a pretty tame affair, in certain
circles if it did represent its arisocrats
ing low neck to breakfast and quafing champagne
have got beyond this still most patiently
gued by authors whose only requisite for depicting
the smart set is their natural desire to sell their
books
In consequence there is no local color SO deplor
ably bad as that in which society novels are set,
and yet the public accepts it with a credul1ty
acquired, perhaps, in the perusal OF the yellow
journals.
All the boarders at Mrs. Prim's select family
home read learn, and inwardly digest that de-
Ightful story in the current number OF Great
Homes and Households called Mrs. Van Sit
tart's Box Party" There they find riches, luxury,
and insolence They discuss it, condemning society,
but severely They cannot feel sure but that
in such surroundings, with such upbrnglng they
themselves might not have behaved in the same
way. They talk and actually think about it, and,
strangest of ALL they believe it, and 1t never occurs
to any of them that the author is poor little Mrs.
Pennington in the third floor hall bedroom, who
supports her daughter by writing, who is known
never to have taken a meal outside of Mrs. Prims
establishment since she to New York, just the
other day. from some obscure country town.
Nothing Rare About Box Party
A NY woman's maid could have told them better,
\ could have told them that only in the news
papers is this sort of entertainment referred to
a box party" that to go to the opera with such
people is to go in box.
Notice again the would-be aristocratic flavor of
the name Van Sittart. Little Mrs. Pennington
New York days and Knckerbocker families. What
she could not know that few of their descendants
keep up with the severe requirements of the
present inner circle, and that to the smart,
Van is less suggestive OF arlstocracy than OF the
shabby genteel.
With these mythical box parties, afternoon teas
and womens luncheons appear in stories most
accurately described as hctional," although the
modern New York woman, spoiled and seective
as she is, would about as soon think of dropping in
at funeral in the hope of amusing herself
The other day in magazine story hostess of
the usually exhalted and exclusive sort supposed
to be giving dance to small part of her carefully
limited acquaintance. One picked up the fact
he read along that the guests served with
buffet supper. Some remote little Mrs. Pennington
had imagined that elegance could GO further than
the hero bringing oysters and chicken salad on the
same plate to the heroine, who sat on the stairs
behind bower of palms. Of course. actually such
a hostess would lief have offered her guests meal
tickets, slt-down supper round small tables
being much matter of course evening dress.
1t seems, too. that the illustrators, called upon to
portray realistically set of people whom they have
never seen, have combined with the authors to
create false type. Everyone knows that the old