Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1919-05-16
THE DAY or DAYS
BY CHRISTOPHER MORLEY
THE Urchin usually has his morning sti

L fH ~ ShthtoioE uEft NtVHSlSl
THE Urchin usually has his morning stir
L rup cup of milk at @ o'clock, but i find
that urchins are physically responsive to
any excitement in the air. He must have
felt that something was afoot yesterday, for
it was only little after when he awoke
with n roar. ASH was warming his innocent
goblet for himI Il cast an apprehensive glance
at the sky from the kitchen window. 1t was
just beginning to grow light, the sky was
curously notified and striped with pale
scales and streaks. was rather worried
about the weather until saw the milk bot
ties, which arrived about Z. When grade A
milk oozcs above the little cardboard disc at
the top of the bottle the prudent householder
knows that the weather is ominous. But
yesterday the cardboard bottle tops were
dry and tight, SO felt rcassured. / don't
pretend that this kind of augury is scicn-
tifc, but il seems to work.
T LEFT home about 8. The day was cool
and gray, the trees along the street
rustling and clicking in draught of air.
The highways were alive with that queer
alcrtncss that one feels When all the COM
munity is thinking of the same thing. At
Fifteenth and Spruce streets was "A great
gathering of Red Cross nurses in their neat
blue uniforms, collecting in motorcars piloted
by emergency aides with their bright key
stone badges. Broad street was already
roped and thronged, bristling with flags.
Pavement vendors moved busily, loaded with
tossing balloons, colored buttons and stream
ers. Small boys blew lusty horns and
twirled watchmens rattes. On the steps of
houses hundreds of patient women were sit
ting, reading books and magazines. In Bos
ton. when they are waiting for parade, they
read Emerson's Essays" / saw young
woman on the steps of the Broad Street
Theatre absorbed in book. / secuted back
and forth in uncomfortable curiosity to see
what it might be. At last I caught the
title, "The Son of Tarznn." This is not
Boston.
CERTAINLY old Chestnut street has never
" done itself prouder. In the blush haze Of
a cloudy day the flags and bunting stretched
away toward the river until both walls
seemed to meet and the colors melted into
tumble Of glowing hues where the tall white
pillars stood up by Independence Hall.
Anxious carpenters were hammering up the
last protecting boards in front of shop win
dows. In most of the larger windows the
display goods had been removed and seats
were TERED, though l doubt if those who
were to sit in them could see as much as
people on the pavements. Hastily lettered
signs had appeared overnight in many
windows, offering space for rent. On Ninth
street company of infantry was swing
ing down to the starting point of the pa
rade. They were marching at ease, cycling
the girls along the curb with bold soldierly
humor, their heavy rawhide boots falling
upon the paving with that slithering clap
clap clap which has a strangely hypnotic
effect on the listener. Their shoulders rose
and fell in swaying rhythm, like a reced-
ing wave, as they passed down the street.
MO ONE could pass along the thronged
~ streets without hearty tribute to the
perfection and forethought of the police ar
rangements. 1t is doubtful whether big
parade was ever more shrewdly handled. 1t
is true that Philadelphia crowds are prob
ably orderly at heart, but where such ex
traordinary masses were gathered together
it would have been easy for accidents to
occur. From the earliest hours of the morn
ing the whole route was lined by bluecoats,
keeping the watchers in check with more
than paternal good humor. In the windows
it was plain to see that women are born
acrobats. On perilous sills and on the very
edges of beetlng roofs mothers and sisters
and cousins cung and leaned over at an
angle that Mortified their escorts. On roof
on the northwest corner of Sixth and Chest
nut streets a young man was squirting two
,damsels, trying by largesse of candy and
sandwiches to lure them back from the
cornice stiff east wind had sprung up,
almost enough of itself to balloon them over
the brink But they were hajoily craning
over the edge regardless of his anxiety.
Turing those two hours of waiting
~ from half past until half past 10
every one was on edge with enthusiasm and
almost painful expectancy. The Governor
got a rousng cheer as he drove down to
the State House. A phalanx of legislators
from Harrisburg, pathetically radiant ut
being applauded, tramped along Chestnut
street behind a band. Impromptu cheer
leaders appeared and led the crowds in
concerted roars. The headquarters train
cantered down on prancing horses and
single lieutenant galloped furiously behind
| them in the real Waterloo manner. Then
| at last came the long khaki columns,
reaching as far as eye could throw.
| Steadily, impassively, with the characteristic
patience and imperturbable humor of the
Yank, they flowed by, wave after wave, the
| thud of marching feet drowned by gusts OF
cheering. Ribbons of colored paper twirled
and spiraled from Office windows and traled
| from bayonets.
THERE was something in that steady,
l. grim procession of quiet ranks that stilled
the clamor. Even the excited cheer leaders
found the people less and less eager to shout
The meaning of it all was too deep for mere
| yelling. One does not yell when those one
loves have come back from the pit. Modern
warfare is not a matter of cheerful applause
There were very few bands, which are tn,
life of a parade. 1t was, in the main, &
strictly sober, businesslike exhibition of tn,
mood that has been national for two years
to put Germany out of business and then ge
back to work. There was none of the riotou
happiness in the mere act of being soldier
that used to mark German military parade
in the old bad days. The Yanks-with you
pardon-don't give damn about being sol
diers. They had Job to do and they did il