The Birmingham age-herald., 1917-12-02
LONDON, NEW YORK AND
 PHILADELPHIA CONTRASTED
By LADY MARY


 your conscientious sightseer and had to see the wonderful new Memorial | church at Valley Forge before the big
 red sun set on a land steeped in the
 mild calm of a day of ideal Indian | summer And how glad was l that pushed on to that noble and most | perfectly proportioned edifice that IS surely a fitang jewel to set in the ] crown of beautiful works of art grac- | ing that classic hillside.
 The Rev. Mir. Herbert Burk, who | is responsible for the building of this church, told me that IA years ago, 1 when he came to minister to tiny congregation in the little wooden l chapel at Valley Forge, he had
 he saw this lovely temple set upon
 the hillside and now" he said, look | ing through a Gothic doorway out upon the tender curves of the high | lands beyond my dream has come | true. I am proud and happy. And sure 1 ly may this good man gaze upon ms l life work and feel. that it Is good. | So you see, Washington and his wars
 and his triumphs have been near to me during the past week and 1 have felt | that I could set aside that priggish ana
 dull story of young George, the cherry ! tree and his little hatchet, and know 1 that first in war; first in peace, and | | he was also quite a human gallant gen. tleman For I was told "histoire'' about l him and Betsy Ross and even shown the ! tiny beetlewood house down near lnde- pendence Hall where it is said-but no, won't go into even revolutionary scan- dals-of one thing I am certain, I like l to think of General Washington and
 know that in spite of the hatchet inci- | dent he was not indifferent to a per | feet peach when he saw one.
 ] There are several things that interest | me especially in this lazy, lounging war holiday of mine and one among them is | to be found in New York streets.
 /! Somewhere in the dusty depths of the London Museum (closed now flor the du- ration of the war) there are, duly tick eted and labelled, two or three specimens of that obsolete vehicle, the hanson cab | What was my astonishment to find In | the greatest and most modern of Ameri-
 lean cities (New York; long ranks of l London gondolas" waiting to be hired
 Tor jingling through the streets! I have
 not been able to overcome my wonder 1 at the strange and most archaic sight | I was asked to lunch at the Ritz lately
 and as my impressive taxicab bounded | and bounced up to the entrance, just behind the jingle of bells and the thud of clumsy hoofs, made me turn and survey the vehicle following in my wake.
 A hanson cab, brightly polished. A 1 big, raw-boned horse, high upon the drivers seat a rubicand, portly Jehu, with a cdriy-primmed silk hat and brass-buttoned great coat! Shades of
 my early youthl Can such things be true? But yes, a hanson at the Ritz.
 And descendig from it vision of up-to- date elegance-sillxen stockings, high boots, short skirts, perky hat, veil, just ' brushing the edge of red lips-a girl vintage 1917 in a hanson obit 19O1
 1 Strange weird city, full of anomalies full of surprises. city with palaces and velvet smooth roadways. jostling di- l lapidated dwellings and roadways that | look as if Germany and the allied forces | had been having little scrap on the side" just to keep themselves in prac- tice for the next "big push!"
 l But in this discursve rambling letter of mine I mentioned that when I met l that hanson cab that I was going to 1 a lunch. Well, I went, and a wonder | full party it was, given by Mrs. Hanan attended by a bevy of smart women ! who gathered about 8 round table cov- l cred with LaFrance roses. Big punches ] of lilies of the vally were placed beside each cover. It was no ones wedding or christeneing, but it looked as if it ought l to be. At least that was what Mrs l Traux told me as she sat on my left and l pointed out all the celebrities around
 us. There was the Countess Festetics 1 in black velvet and Brussels lace, with a broad brimmed hat, and Mrs Stephen Little also in velvet and furs, and Mrs. Hanan, Jr. and lot of other people who were all going on to the horse show. A wonderful glowing bril- l liant sight-war did you say? Is there one going on? Yes, I suppose there is, but my ear is not tuned to the sound of the guns, and my eyes no longer can see the searchlights of London stretch 1 ing their long fingers through the gloom so that they may pick up" the elusive fitting of an enemy airplane dropping | it's horrid burden upon some little home l ''of no military importance" hundreds of | feet below! I feel rather like Louise in l Charpentiers opera. She sighed l l"Paris!'-I murmur New York;.