The Washington herald., 1918-07-27
B. DWlc

New York. July 2s.-The white wom-
en- OF Chinatown present a complex
social problem for workers who make
a study of the evolution and phenom-
ena of human society. The alley-like
streets of Pell, Mott and Doyer have
several dozen white women who have
cast their lots with Chinese either as
wives or paramours.
There is a saying in Chinatown that
once a white woman enters the city
for a stay she never leaves. All hope
truly is left behind. She becomes a
fixed part OF the life there. Rubber
neck wagon barkers may point TO her
and the world may shudder, but she
never leaves.
Many of the white women become
slaves of the poppy and spend the
greater part of their time cooking
pills for the idle. dreamy hours in
the opium hunks. Only at night do
they come out and then they stink
along the ill-lighted streets to some
drug store, furtively watching out for
any strangers.
ribly ventilated buildings that seem to
tumble over each other in a disorder
ly array. The Chinese restaurant
where the life is gay-never sees
them. Many of them eventually wear
the native Chinese costume.
I once talked to Chuck Connors,
formerly the mayor of Chinatown,
about the white women of this queer
little city of crooked streets. "Chuck''
knew every phase OF life there. He
had respect for the Chinese and they
respected him. He had settled many
a tong war.
THE white women who come down
here to live" he said, ARE usually
women who have drifted to the gut
ter and they seek Chinatown as a
place to hide from the world. The
Chinese are courteous to them. This
appeals to them and they usually
marry a Chink or fall into Illicit re-
lationship with them. After a time
they become used to Chinese customs
and surroundings. So far as know
/ have never heard OF a white woman
leaving Chinatown after she remains
here several months"
In the opening installment Of Arthur
Somers Roche's mystery story, THE
Flying Fish," in Golfers, ! found
myself in the midrift of a most ex-
citing series of adventures. There is
no greater thrill than to start read
ing story in a magazine and find
your own name mentioned and your
home town glorified. The hero had
Just met the heroine and then came
the paragraph:
Leila KildareI Gallipolis, He could
find, in memory, no link connecting
the town. He had been in Gallipolis.
that HffIo nhf4 s,l,2
years ago. A sophomore at college,
he had visited his friend Odd McIn-
tyre. there. A brief visit, but-evf-
IDENTIFY he had met, or at least been
seen there by Miss Kildare"
There it was-my home town CALI
polis-and my own name and every
thing. The truth is that 1 was horn
in Plattsburg, Mo-, and was raised in
Gallipolis. Both towns now claim me.
Gallipolis claims was born in Platts-
burg-and Plattsburg insistently
claims 1t was Gallipolis.
How easy II Is to misjudgel A
group Of US were cooling OF on a roof
garden. A member of the group
spoke to a chalky-faced young man
at another table. His hair was POM
maded and he was in one Of those
tight fitting suits that the lounge
lizards effect. 1t looked as though
someone had told him he did not
wear shirts and he wanted to show
them that he did. 1t was of the loud
est design I have ever seen and the
choking collar matched It. His hose
fairly dazzled. He finally came over
ia our table and asked a young lady
IL she would 'dawnce." When he
said "dawnce" that completed the pic
ture and we all looked on with dis
gust as she took his arm. Someone
said something rather cutting. Then
the man who was sponsor for him
told a story. The boy was only 90.
He had been gassed twice and had
three ribs crushed in a plane fall in
France. He was here recuperating.
He is going back in a few months.
A great silence enveloped the group.
l went home.