The daily Gate City. [volume] (Keokuk, Iowa) 1855-1916, 1914-08-28
New State Of Affairs Discovered at
Fashionable Hotel by a
New York Re-
porter.
TOLL WITH NEW DANCES
SidelIaht on Dance Craze Which 70
Now Sweeping the Country
Music From the
Photograph.

one afternoon @ SOLITARY reporter,
glum with the usual dearth of topics
which seem to shrivel to unimport-
ance under the sultry sun, climbed
languidly aboard a dirty yellow trolley
car and rode a terky ride to n Of
the Brooklyn beaches. 1t doesn't
make much difference which one; ex-
cept in unimportant details they're all
very much alike.
II shall mount the porch OF that big
white hotel" said the reporter, Sink
into a rocking chair, sip a lemonade,
and study woman. In a rocking chair
on the porch of a summer hotel h
is quite at her best. Mornings she is
cranky, and in the evening she Is CO.
suettish. Only in the afternoon can
one see her in all her post-meredian
simplicity"
But he, poor fool, little knew where
Of he spoke. He mounted the porch.
1t Is true, but 1t was a long time be-
fore he found a rocking chair. 1t
seemed as If the winter storms had
blown them away. There were
some, to be sure, placed about in I'M
inspiring position, but these were idly
rocking in the breeze.
Most interesting" said the report
err, just as reporters never do. and
taking out a w~ell-known and mythical
notebook and pencil. he approached
the desk OF the hotel. A lo~ng-haired
clerk with a short upper lip was busy
hanging keys up on wriggly hooks.
Pardon me-" said the reporter, po-
litely, for he had forgotten himself
under the spell Of the clerks horned
spectacles. II have observed a most
interesting social phenomenon in the
disappearance Of the rocking chairs
from your expansive porch. Can 1T be
possible that the rocking chair fleet
has becom mere driftwood? Hereto
fore woman's greatest summer pas
time has been to rock, read and retail
polite scandal. Has this delightful
old custom-this distinctly American
manifestation of the social spirit-be-
come utterly defunct? And the cause
If you p~lease?"
The clerk reached out a bony arm.
tapped three times on a big bell,
wriggled the pen from his left ear and
lighted a smelly cigarette. The re-
porter waited. The clerk waited. And
then, all of a sudden, there was a loud
zing-zing from somewhere near by,
and the most wonderful music, incon-
s%equential in itself, 1t is true, but de-
lightfully deleterious, inspiringly in
sipid and marvelously malconceived,
came hurtling through the air, break
ing on ones ear-drums like the sound
of a photograph with a rusty needle.
The clerk took a half-Nelson On the
reporter and executed al unconscious
g%enuflection that fitted not lily with
the music ST.
Enquirer after Truth" he ex-
claimed, addressing the reporter as
reporters are never addressed. There
you have your answer; an %auricular
answer. Large women, tall women,
short women, m with necks like
gazelles and those with no necks at
all, women of grace and m Of aw-
full ~gesticulation! And each and a..
of them together with quite %incons@
~quential creatures in tight-fitting
trousers, were bobbing about, hop
ping, skipping, leaping, sliding, stick
ing out a foot here n withdrawing
a silk-clad ankle there, bending an
elbow at the beat of a drum and sub
DUNG the shoulders at the tinkle of a
mandolin, ~palpitating, protesting,
pausing, gasping for breath, toying
with a bit of floor here and negotiat-
ing a wide expanse OF it in n swoop
AL.-o .~;,rjclin0 AMINO ond fhnn oil
at once becoming startlingly original,
and at last leaning in a funk against
pillar and post to gain courage for the
next onslaught, while the banjo-play-
er put in three new strings that he
had broken in the charge.
Quite overcome with emotion, the
reporter accosted a stout who
was the ~contralto in a church choir
in Flatbush.
Tell me-" he said, bowling, for I am
a newspaper man in search OF copy
what is the meaning of this strange
performance?
"Not-a-word!" coughed the stout
co~ntralto, trying to get her breath. II
never speak for publication. We pro-
f~essionals never do. What is it you
want to know"
The reporter drew near and twirled
his little mustache.
81 know you are not going to turn
me down.. he said, putting a 40-debun-
tante power sob in his voice. II would
lose my job and have to go to work
for a living. Besides, although we
have only known each other for three
minutes, I have already discovered
that you are unlike other women. The
way you dance, your speed, your