New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1917-08-19
BIZ Helen Hayes Gleason

eager for exchange of ideas and open-mnded
to a new point of view
These are the only two I have become
acquainted with in ten months. People do
not reach out to each other in this country
they 20 travelling their own way, never
bothering you. always courteous and gener-
ally proper. But my bay window has given
me lots of secrets and lots of friends,
though the friendship is one-sded. | like
the fat woman opposite | feel sure she
would talk over the garden wall with me if
we were naighbors. She has a sense Of hu-
NOR ard she had impaired it to the family
a daughter with a blond pig-tail, two
squatty black Persian cats, one with four
white boots, and q fox terrier pup. They
laugh and wggc. all the time and the black
and white kitten goes to market like dog.
He romps at the side of his fat mistress.
who carries basket Ne is absurd.
But II you don't want to 90 to market, mar
ket comes to you. Every conceivable thing
comes b. our door on hand barrows. Then
sit in my second story room and Try to real
ize I am in England. It is seldom one can
understand what is being called out, though
the language is our own. Once caught
"ru -buh, penny a bundu. penny a bundul
penny buudul." Accent the "dui" in bundul
and take plenty Of time to say it. A lame
man comes pushing barrow of slippery fish.
His wife walks quietly by his side and two
prosperous looking cats march along single
file after her, holding their tails erect. Occa-
sionaliy the procession stops to make a sale
and then the Toms take on a look of part
ownership.
There Is a man who wants a rag and
BONE" the boy who peddles kindlng, and the
grandfather to sell you a hundredweight of
coal or seven penny worth. and the man who
croaks something in cracked voice. lie has
oil for have looked, but ne goes with the
speed Of a desperate man, too fast 20 sell.
He only wants to croak to us. The milkman
who serves my righthand neiqhbor calls out
ANY milk to-day" with yode at the end.
Ard my neighbours small daughter rushes out
to take charge Of the little wagon and to
push il along TO the next customer. This Is
jolly man. He sings gay verses a he goes
20 amusa the children who collect and escort
him TO the end Of the block--always the yodel
and the group OF children struggling to push
the wagon for him. As they disappear hear
my special man at the other end of the street,
so | leave the window. His voice IS rich and
singing he takes the FIFTH note in the scale
at a deep pitch, rolls IL out and Just dips to
the third below and back again in a curve
am sure he is priest chanting. have never
looked His music Is beautiful enough This
is fragment Of my street
The Music of a street
On sunny afternoons we have street pianos,
two Of hem. One does the movie Italian
opera sort Of stuff and the other has one
melody built on Hawaiian goodby song
should say. which to me Is worth twonence
any time they care to core. And more than
once, lorg after hours in the night. soldier
passes to his billet, each time whist'ng a
certain Scotch air. | can hear him a long
way on a quiet night.
skinny" lives few houses down on the
opposite side. His voice is hgh-pitched and
turre4 on full blast Over the noise OF
twenty small boys and girls playing he
reaches out in thin, piping suggestions aud
commands-ncessant, unmistakable lie IS a
little steam exhaust One wshes his lost
energy could be bottled up for his old aye.
And Harry Leon Wilson's "Rucgles' goes by
every day looking as proper IS tho Hon.
George and the best families should. one
day he INDUCED in a pipe and that day he
wore his cap bit further over his nose. lie
thought the ordinary little street wouldn't
notice. But it did.