The Birmingham age-herald., 1918-06-18
By DOLLY DALRYMPLr

II y Skimpole, would have been a per
 feet villager; do you remember his deliciously insouciant remark: This is
 where the bird lives and sings; they pluck his feathers now and then and clip his
 wings, but he sings and sings Not an ambitious note, but still he-sings." That description is typical of the village, of that section of New York town which rays cut rather crazily from old Jefferson 1 Market and the Night Court in spokes Of small streets that seem to run at | haphazard angles like a crazy quilt. There is an indescribable smack of "Soho" in the tired. rusty tumble down
 old houses of Greenwich village which greet you as you jump off the Fifth avenue bus at the far side of Washington Square-Fourth street where all that is known of c4 real Latin Quarter in Amer
 ca looms high in that Jabberwock land
 or short-haired women and long-haired
 men, where free verse, free thought, free speech, pastry, spaghetti and plaster of paris shops, little Greek church squat ting modestly beyond the corner and Mrs
 Harry Payne Whitney's beautiful Studio club rises insolently among the Bohemian
 environments, her tribute to art for art sake.
 PG seen the village by night, but 'the cold gray dawn of the morning after is different, so being called early in the
 A. M. which is what somebody has
 termed "The B. c. of the daytime" l
 journeyed hither, anticipatory of new sensations and emotions.
 1 wasn't disappointed; those inimitable places, "The Black Parrot" that little hole in the ground; "The Pig and Whistle Cafe,' ''The Silhouette Shop, "The Treas ure Box" presided over, by the way, by a charming Georgia girl who has joined the legion of villagers; "The Dutch Oven" and dozens of other little curious places were still tucked away behind great heaps of tumbleddown old historical mansions, the history of which would make an En- cyclopedia Britannica look like blue back speller."
 Dropping into "The Liberal Club to see an exhibition of paintings by Liello, our hostess, "Carlotta,' accompanied by her best-est friend and chum, Mathilda Melinda Meow, the big black cat which brings luck to the club, greeted us in true Greenwich village style, bidding us welcome and making personally con- ducted tour of the art exhibits. Pres ently she asked us if we had 'tea-d" and if not to go up to "Grace Godwyn's gar rett" and sup; we said we didn't know about the place and asked for directions. Just follow MacDougal's alley from here; turn into Fourth street and run into the little two-story building and climb up the rickety- -pickety stairs where the geraniums grow and say Carlotta sent you" That's the only introduction one needs in the village, you see, because the latch string is always on the outside and wonderful welcome awaits you.
 Have you happened to read that en- chanting book of Celtic mysticism, in consequent WhimSey, and profound sym bolism, "The Crock of Gold" by James Stevens? The author is not a "Villager' yet his words are a fitting interpretation of the lives of the villagers-"The lovers of gayety and peace, long defrauded" He tells of "The' Since" dance and sing says they do and I believe he knows what he is talking about; 'tis a Lep- rechaun he has for a friend), and this is the message:
 Come to us, ye who do not know where ye are-ye who live among strang- CTS in the houses of dismay and self Come away for the dance mas begun Ignliy-tne Wliu IS SouHuiHS over the hill"
 Probably no place in the world has ever been more misrepresented and mis- written about than Greenwich Village; it's hapless, carefree, insousiance; it's quiet reserve and detachment from outside it's tremendous sense of humor and it's childish peculiarities and utter detestation of misrepresentation; it's atti- tude of the ''Virginians" now classic warning when misrepresentation is em- ployed, "When you call me that-smile.' Oh! it is all delightful! But you mustn't laugh at the villagers, you Fifth ave- nuers, you Broadwayers, you Bostonese. you Highbrows! Or if you do laugh it must be very, very gently, as you'd laugh at children--at will-o'- -the-wisps, at Jack O lanterns and fairies and goblins, in the knowledge that children and sprites, in lots of essentials, know ever so much more than you do
 Mrs. Payne Whitney's Studio club for