Omaha daily bee., 1909-12-29

Metropolis from nay to Day.
People who wonder at the political grip
Of Tammany on the multitude In New York
neglect to measure human nature as II is,
but by standards OF their own making A
recent incident, overflowing with pathos
and good will, illustrates the affection OF
a Tammany leader for his followers. Tim
othy p. Sullivan, known to thousands I'm
the old Bowery district as Little Tim"
was one OF a family of Tammany leaders.
II was his custom for years past to give a
Christmas feast to the poor of the district.
A few hours before the end he spoke this
kindly message to his fellows: Bury me
on Friday. l want the boys on the Bowery
10 have their Christmas dinner. Maybe
they wouldn't feel much like enjoying it IL
they thought 1 was lying dead a few
blocks away. / want you to get me out of
the way so 1 won't spoil their Christmas.
I'm sorry 1 won't be there" said Little
Tim" as he gave instructions as to the
funds he left to defray the expense of the
feast. The dead leader was one Of the
type OF Tammany politicians who concern
themselves with the sorrows, the cares and
the wants OF less fortunate beings. They
end a helping hand, not at election time
alone, but all through the year, and thus
secure q hold on popular confidence and af-
lection that is rarely shaken.
The very latest flare In the foodery line
Is the new cafe de POpera, on Broadway,
between Forty-first ana Forty-second
streets. 1t runs up almost to where the old
Metropole stood and is bossed by Henri
Pruger, who used to do the cooking for the
Savoy in London.
Internally, 1t looks like a cross between a
midnight fire in a paint warehouse and a
fight at the ribbon counter. 1t Is without
doubt the gaudiest thing in the way Of
restaurants we have been afforded yet. It
will afford a constant temptation to the
night runners on Broadway to chip off a
flake of wall decoration and cash 1t in at
the mint. One may, perhaps, quarrel with
the taste Of the decorator, but one cannot
question his command Of funds. 1t looks
as though he had sprayed goldleaf through
a hose. The night that It was opened
Bruce Rice, one Of the younger breed of
speakers who are always on draft here. was
set down TO make a talk. Mr.. Rice dwelt
upon the magnificence OF his surroundings.
He waved his hands like a regular orator.
And then 1t seemed to occur to him that
while this was all very well for one night
In the year-what were we to do for the
rest of the season. "If we try to eat at
home" said he, "or even If we go back to
the other restaurants on Broadway, we're
bound to feel. like the negro In the story.
I wisht I had a million dollars said he
to an old white headed friend. You a foo,
niggah,' said the handkerchief head
African, no niggah wants no million
dollahs,' An wy for don't want no
million dollahs?' asked the first. 'Becase.'
said the older man, de wife folks would
git 1t away fun you insiden a week, and
by that time yo'd have lost your taste for
craps"
Every one here knows the Brook club,
says the New York correspondent of the
Cincinnati Times-Star. That is the famous
organization to which Harry Thaw and
Stanford White belonged, as told In the
Thaw trial, and won it's name because, like
the brook in the poem, at goes forever"
The greater part Of the members of the
Brook club turn night into day habitually.
The real topnotch high rollers Of town
belong almost to a man-but the cheap
brand OF Broadway spender, who buys
wine in O tone that can be heard from
Grants tomb to the Battery, can't get past
the doors.
The other night, according to the yarn.
00NN eAANS q NdAlldb al
the club. He told John, who superintends
the outside Of the Brook, of his needs. The
cab came. John thrust his head through
the doors TO notify Mr.: Dunno. Mr.. Dunno
came to the door, getting into a broadtail
overcoat. This way, cabbie," said John, in
his most magnificent way, turning to ad-
dress the chauffeur. Johns foot slipped
and he spilled himself down the steps.
"Ah, John, john" said Mr.. Dunno, shak-
ing his head ~sorrowful,y. You must be
more careful of your reputation, John. You
ought not to come down stairs that way.
People will take you for one of the mem
bers"
Several persons marooned In a Broadway
drug store during a downpour of rain
learned a novel use for an electric fan.
About 4 O'Clock a woman carrying a dimin-
utiye fluffy white dog alighted from a
taxicab and entered the store. That store
keeps an electric fan ready for business
the year around, but that day it was not
going. The woman asked if the current
could be turned on. Being assured that it
could she said;
Then would you mind turning it on
for a few minutes? I want to dry Penelope.
had to carry her for a block in the rain
and she got wet and ~bedraggled,"
When 1t dawned upon the clerk that
Penelope was none other than the scrap
Of a dog he suggested that she might be
dried over the radiator.
That would never do" said, the woman.
"She would look stringy. When hair of
this texture gets damp the very best treat