davidaulloa/AmericanStories huggingface dataset:
New-York tribune., 1919-01-19
When the
Lions Purr

And to my horror he was there-no
longer the ravening beast had encountered
at dress rehearsals, but a large, docile man,
sitting underneath an "out' sign, doing
nothing.
He said "Come in," without apparent
enmty, and when the usual slogan of Moth
in for you, next, please" did not follow,
plucked up courage and asked could l use
MS red ink to nscribe my name upon the
manuscript l was about to leave with him.
Even at this threat he neither swore nor
spat, and presto, was sitting opposite the
great potentate and using his very own
inkwell. The clock licked Prints of Sam
Shubert and Dan Frohman smiled down
upon me like ancestral portraits without,
the low hum of Broadway rose like the
Murmur of bees.
"What great plans,' thought I, ''for put
ting Law and Sleranger out Of business and
cornering the theatrical market are moving
in that vast brain? Or is he here to meet
a woman? Why this fearful calm"
Even as I thought, the telephone at his
elbow chimed one. Aha!" thought I, bend
ing low over my work.
But what he said was:
"You, Einstein? Say, send up them two
that | looked over esterday-no-no-not
boys-the girl ones. What-yes--the kind
New-York tribune., 1919-01-19
When Journalists
Stalk Abroad

But, as l say. you probably will be too
convinced that the place is den Of vice to
really risk this excursion; but there IS
nothing in nature or history to prevent
your going to Wall Street and the Battery
at the right time. In Wall and Nassau
streets there dwell secret race of people
who, for gentle reticence as to their habits
of life have the Chinese beaten mile.
refer to the journalists. The time to see
them IS at o'clock Of winter evening.
when the sea of stenographers and tired
business men surgcs into the bowels of
the earth and is gone. Then a strange
peace falls. Wall Street stretches itself like
a tired boy. Nassau Street winds invitinglv
into its secret restaurants, the face of the
City Hall clock warns into a gentle radi
ance and the journalists issue forth They
are a charming race, who sit up all night
through sheer love Of life. and although
New-York tribune., 1919-01-19

manager for reasons known only to himself,
goes to his Office, sits there behind his cir
cassian walnut desk and smokes an endless
succession of cigars a one-sans Office boy,
sans stenographer-abso solutely unprotected
from attack
discovered this while taking my musical
comedies up and down Broadway in bas-
ket, looking, like Diogenes with the candle,
for some one who would read them before
returning. 1t being Saturday, l thoughts
"Now will be safe time to tackle that
horrible old scalawag Wemple. He won't
be there and l will sneak it onto his desk
and run"
New-York tribune., 1919-01-19

hope, are going to stop at Chinatown
although viii say in passing that the cnes
to Chinatown is at 8 o'clock on Sunday
night, and the way to see it is not to go
with bodyguard of sightseers and police
men. Get rid Of the entirely erroneous idea
that Chinatown is den Of vice and if you
expect to see anything of interest go alone
The point of Sunday night is that the
Chinese have closed their shops. and not
expecting you, are acting like normal human
beings and living their own life in the
dusky backs of their shops and If you are
tactful as they are courteous they will
let you see them living il. OF course you
can't just say you've come TO call, but there
is an open sesame which l viii tell you in
secret There dwells in Chinatown bright
green crockery which roams across from an
island near Japan. in ional fragments.
and not being much thought Of by the Chi
nese, gets stuck upon dusty shelves in out
of the way corners. Ask to buy a piece of
1t and they Will admit You without cere-
mony into the shop. and while You wait for
them to burrow about you viii catch be-
witching glimpses of Chinese babies play
ing around the feet of strange Chinese
mothers, and weird white food beng eaten
by weird old men. BY the way, I leave it
to your honor not to really buy any of that
green china. l am collecting it. It has
taken me ten years Of constant vigil TO get
together enough of it for small luncheon
set, and if I have any competition, where
New-York tribune., 1919-01-19
" oujd London Watch
The Human EIy:2

One cannot imagine urchins sitting
I'VE deep astrde the Landseer hons in
'fa'@.Har Square, a. they VT astrde our
I'h~ before fac Public Library, and as
''f fnat zntf1 phenomenon, the hu-
nan H. mo rcgales the noon hours
" our tired bseiness mon By crawling up
*AH ao~a fhe face " the beautiful Bush
4sf'a'nai HDi.ding, can you picture him
~<h1 eacn Ioerties w.tn the fasade Of
'es'"iaa'ef Abbey, Or, for that matter,
'@' y'a 'maY.ne Nn9lshmen going with
va 'Ne.f midday meal, 70 ray nothing Of
srbpinz a.i the t1aac - order 20 see him?
=. ~ fae tell you that no one who de-
"Dsfs'eiy sets out 70 see sen York ever
tsss y. TOR, Ike modern woman, II "
n@"y h'nga in many places and only
s"f''sn a happy euccession Ut accidents
~" Jrp leafn 81 Ko 70 the right places
i'' t's fi9nt talnQ4
f'f Instance, lhe,e H. that eojouru 70
rs@f - The hean of the elQhtzeer, the
1'p@sian quarter Moat people notice
ss'ee' o'cloes in The afternoon gor this
New-York tribune., 1919-01-19

Send 'em over, will ye, so can catch the
five two?"
But to return to the Astor. From behind
its plate glass the drama of Broadway
unfolds.
See this little blonde, modestly dressed
in little scarlet satin street suit, with
a Quiet touch of royal purple at the wrists
and feet. 1t is December-you can tell this
because the pockets of her coat are edged
with narrow band of fur. From the care
less way that her snowy neck is open to
the wind, you know that she is not really
New-York tribune., 1919-01-19
DOuble=faCed
Broadway

Then there is Broadway. 1t is the most
double-faced street in the world. If you
make it's acquaintance at night it hooks
its arm into yours as though you were
a long lost friend and says: "Say, they're
opening a new restaurant me; come
on, let's go; I'm tipping off few old pals
before the rush begins" it will cry,
bubbling with enthusiasm: "What do you
say to the theatre-oh no-not that one
that's on Forty-second Street; come to
the Strand and stay with me-" And that
night you part with solemn promises never
to forget.
you'll meet me tomorrow" says
Broadway
And you promise, although your purse is
protesting.
AT the same spot? And do come early"
You promise you'll come early and then
you make the fatal mistake Of all youthful
enthusiasm and return to the rendezvous
too early. Four o'clock in the afternoon,
say
Your dazzling, beiewelled friend Of the
night before is not there. but a shabby old
tramp is standing on the curb, in the harsh
afternoon sunlight. And then he turns and
you recognize that it is Broadway. You
start forward with smile
81 beg your pardon, madam" he says
your face is not familiar to me-"
"Oh, Gay White Way" you cry, what
New-York tribune., 1919-01-19

Ties;
Shirts with lyric, singing stripes;
Fluffy white mysteries reminding
piquantly of sex;
Long John Silver's paroquet;
A temple lantern from Japan;
A highboy that once beheld
Colonial propreties,
Bidding for favor now
Where hundred races merge and melt
and stare and pass
Poor ghost of Salem-if you're not a
fake
Color spattered china, gold and blue
trimmed china;
Little spouts of diamonds on mouse
gray mat;
Flowing silks from Samarcand-or Pat
ersOn
(What matter, if they flow and rustic
To the rhythm of white-feshed woman
while the music throbs?);
A square Of canvas thick with oils,
A vision bounded by rim Of gilt,
Five thousand dollars worth of paint
Because the artist died;
More silks;
Another spout of diamonds;
The chair Don Carlos sat in;
A cataract of pearls;
Books,
Books in gold and luscious leather
immoral windows, baited with the spoils
And splendors of the toiling world.
Great, haring windows,
Small seductive windows,
How | love you!
How hate you,
Being poor.
Beyond that southern qcarc line lies New
York
Beside nly az there lies fallen tree
Well, 'cel-the limbs of frstl
A suck Of Keen air IN the lungs,
A hedre and blow,
The cleaning edge dies in the sapless
1cood.
Against the ice-bo1nd cliffs the echo
rings
And IN the pines
hear the aoi'y tinkle
Of a startled chjckadee.
New-York tribune., 1919-01-19

~ " AVE you ever tried to describe
- the people you live with? If
so, you know how hard it is to
- do, because knowing all their
sides which shall you describe, and you
end by doing justice to none
It is the same with cities. When Lon
doners. recognizing NE through the damp
yellow fog as an American, cry, for the
sake Of conversation, "Oh, Go describe
New York to us" come out from under
mv coat collar and. placing the cough
lozenge in the left check, reply hoarsely
and with enthusiasm that New York is
an island where all is warm, rich and
riotous and where either the sun or the
moon is always shining.
In Rome, on the contrary, in the boiling
heat Of August, my little chambermaid,
who has a lover selling spinach on Grand
Street got from me very different tale
New YoIs,' SAID /, mopping my brow
and throwing the woollcn bedroom slippers
had bought in London right out the win
dow into the Piazza della Terme, "is an
icicle that floats upon a cool blue sea;
New York is u stalagmite in the cave of
the winds; by all means my child, marry
any man who lives there"
In Paris, where | walked in q three-mile
circle three times day in the search for
food | likened New York to straight
silver pendant set with restaurants.
"At night said l to the waiter, "they
shine out upon the breast of the Atlantic
with splendor far surprising that of
precious stones
"Pierres pr6cieuses; ou, mademoiselle,"
replied the waiter.
"The wonder OF this jewel" said l. "is
that one can pass from one of these
restaurants to another without moving the
feet as twere, so close is everything in
that land Of JOY to everything else"
"TOut pres; oui, mademoiselle," said the
waiter
"Moreover," said I, "my city consists of
only twelve long streets, up and down. and
they contain from dawn till dark all the
delights Of continuous vaudeville per-
formance-and it costs nothing My city,"
/ concluded. "has Paris beaten hollow"
wide; oui, mademoiselle," said the waiter,
who seemed TO be pleasant sort Of
chap and unprej JUDGED.
But there is one impression of New
New-York tribune., 1919-01-19

Fifth Avenue stores, full Of things you ought
to buy, into the gay, naughty little shop
on Broadway, full of the things you oughtn't
to want and do. These shops always give
me the feeling that they are only there as
lark anyway and will be gone the next
day, so buy now not at all. They do not
cater to those cautious spirits who like to
feel and hesitate and return the next day.
What a depressing way you have Of buying
Clothes" they seem to say, wondering
whether it will be serviceable three wears
from now and if you hadn't better get some
thing dull that won't show the dirt. etc
Broadway has no patience with such IDEAS
Who are you that you should look ahead
and behind three years? Why, you may be
run over by truck tomorrow noon. Buy
something gay quick, woman. and let the
dead past bury its dead, says dear Broadway
1t says the same thing in regard to hats
though this, confess, is a more serious
matter.
Now there IS so much to be said about
the best time to see Central Park and Fifth
Avenue that l shall not even attempt it,
Their wonderful doings are my favorite
topic. and as the gentleman who cuts nv
articles always selects my favorite topic to
cut, what's the use2
So let US hasten down the avenue with
closed eyes in order not to get fascinated
opening them for brief moment in order to
sec Blanche Ring and Raymond Hitchcock
playing around on the steps of the Public
Library. and then a little later to catch a
glimpse OF what I should like to extol for
paragraph G., that noble ship at Union
Square, which IS being maintained at fear
full expense to the city so that our boys, as
they return from the trenches. may all be
sire of Jobs there as laundresses q en-
joyed writing that now watch him cut it,
New-York tribune., 1919-01-19

Giuseppe Brothers, straight from the
Riviera. They are doing their world
famous triple clog. atop the Palace Roof
His salary is 5000 a week and when work
ing single he gets ten.
Here come two little stock company
actresses. One has Job and one has not,
and how know could not tell you-there
are so many infnitesimal signs
One would Like to say word in passing
on the Broadway shops, for, like the people,
they have charm all their own; and what
a relief to escape from all the dull, stuffy
New-York tribune., 1919-01-19
M Manh alta u
l----'-----------J

Snow on the roofs
white,
Each tree limb dressed like Columbine.
The wilderness Of roofs below nv gaze
A crazy quilt
Of sooty white and wet, glossy black,
With, here and there, brick-red patch
Or square Of ochre,
Dull, subdued
At length, beyond Hoboken
An orange sunset glows
And kindles in that black tower to the
West
A crimson conhagration.
The arc lights sputter on,
Pale green.
Black armies suddenly crupt
Into the Square
And wind like snakes between the banks
Of snow
Six hours later shall feel
On Grace Church roof
The cool virginity Of the moon.
| lack the Biblical aversion
TO house made with hands.
Not every handmade house, of course,
But some Of them,
Are frozen moments Of Eternity
The Lower Town may scream its big
ness to the harbor fogs,
We ants may ape the Andes
And shoot our elevators into cloud
But still there is the Brooklyn Bridge,
And still across it's gasping park
The ancient City Hall
Invites the passcr to it's perfect poise
| climb the steps,
Go in the door,
And facing me, in sweeping, grave
serenity,
Yet airy, too, and delicate and rich,
The double stairway swings it's circle up,
Mans dream Of Beauty chiselled into
stone
| like old Sherman holding in his horse;
! love that mighty prov
Towing Broadway and Fifth Avenue
Northward to the yellow lamps
/ love the tower lantern far aloft
New-York tribune., 1919-01-19

for at that hour strange thing happens.
The sunlight slants down through the
framework of the Second Avenue al" in
such way that the street beneath, with
all its brass and carts and fruit and NOV
ing mass of people, ceases to be a street
at all, and breaks up into cubist can
vas where whirls and swings a multi
colored crowd of spots and shapes-a
chunk of shade - horses hoof "a re-
volvng wheela bapy's cap--a samovar-
a scarlet rag-a shaft Of light.
New-York tribune., 1919-01-19

M If Y ar bloavs ring against the
|NA mountain side.
4 WI 4 crack, sudden roar
A long-drawn, ripping tear,
And ON the snoau the tall tree spro1o1s
its sirty feet Of pole.
/ fill my pipe and SIT oaohilc upon the
stump,
TO rest before I strip the slash and cut
the logs.
.Southward,
Tqcenty miles away,
A blue auare rolls and hides the vie,U.
Beyond 1t, somewhere, lies Neao Yorkl
Night
And the rain,
The lamps stab their reflections
On the glistening asphalt
Like golden poliwogs with wrigglng
tails.
Humorous lamps, seductive lamps,
Riotous, unrighteous, warm, yellow,
friendly lamps
Lamps that make pictures,
Spell words,
Jump on and off,
Dance, sparkle, glow, hide in a steam
drift,
Wink on Folly,
And heat the low gray cloud roof
Till it glows, too, like an iron stove.
A cab slithers to the curb,
a woman gets out:
She clutches her cloak about her throat
And lifts high her skirt,
Dashng for the shelter Of the lamps.
Silk slendernessl
White throat!
Perfume stabbing through the smell Of
rain!
The lamps wink against the dull glow
Of the driving cloud;
Their reflections are the deep roots of
flowers;
They are the golden eyes Of thousand
Act9Ons
Pccping through forests Of brick and
stone.
SNOW in the Square,
Snow on the trees,
New-York tribune., 1919-01-19

is the matter? Why are you so pale and
cold-and you are wounded-what are these
strange excavations upon your breast?
didn't see them at all last night-don't you
remember me-?"
No, he does not remember you and what's
more he thinks you are trying to 1rt with
him, and moves cololy on, and you have
learned the bitter lesson that intimacy with
the Gay White Way does not mean that you
are really acquainted.
The little actress is the only one who
really sees Broadway by daylight. The
New-York tribune., 1919-01-19
The human fly crawling up and
down the face Of skyscraper

YORK that is the same for all Of US, and
that Is the greeting it gives you az you
Steam mo .ts harbor fresh from Europe
The hrat Ting you notice is how white
the sunlight is; and then there breaks
aga'n upon your car the hum Of that mar
'ei'ors street life which surges around the
0a8e Of eaca oxyscraper Ike q wave that
never breaks. baglad In all ita glory had
10 9ayer Or more chld.ke street life
'haa New Yor1 The first and last thing
one notices is how swiftly New Workers
'ufn 'ae.r streets into a pantomime on the
s"Tn n,est proYocat.on Paris and London
nave ~ -. -h-. tliez
New-York tribune., 1919-01-19
IN DO New Workers Ever Find New York at Home?

trip under the impression, perhaps. that
they will be treated to Russian tea. They
are not, and by not going at the right
time they miss study in cubism the like
OF winch is not TO be found in all the art
shops of Fifth Avenue. In the afternoon
You see, to be sure, all the interesting
traffic OF Grand and Spring streets; you
see all the brass shops, and how they look
like Aladdin's Palace all lit up from
within. But the real trick Is to see them
lit up from without. To do this you must
arrive at 10 sharp of a sunny morning,
New-York tribune., 1919-01-19

That blinks the hours through the driv-
ing scud;
| love the woodchuck people
Bobbing into holes
To run in burrows to their feeding
grounds;
love the folks that loll in limousines
(Having no need to talk to them, but
only see them pass;
| love the warm wood fires of club,
The meditatiye click of checker-men
The rustic Of a paper turned,
The hum Of talk,
The little bell that clangs for zone more
round"
The chap who enters, hat back on his
ears,
Rowing his eye until it falls on me,
And then his grunting slump
Into the masculine embrace of leather
And his gossip!
These things l love-
And night, and finty, silent streets
Where Ozymandias' ghost might walk
(Two lovers in dark doorway whisper
ing,
They, also, old as Karnak's columned
halls),
And then the star space Of the Square
Where on a watch tower torn
From "the waveless plain Of Lombardy"
A golden cross still guards the Citys
sleep.
shall go down amid the lamps that wink
And at a theatre door,
When all the gay, eXpectant crowd has
passed inside,
III say, Hello how's business tonight"
To him who tears the tickets at the gate
"Hello" he'll say, and shake my hand.
"Wel, you're stranger now, for fair!
Business is pretty good; not what it was,
though,
In the old days.
The College Widow! Remember that?"
"Go on" III laugh. "We'll none of us
forget.
Remember how we used to drop in every
night
To hear the line about the Baptist?"
"Wherc is old George these days?'
"ln Indiana, growing corn, l guess"
New-York tribune., 1919-01-19

rest of the world--the lost sheep from
Fifth Avenue-walk through its midst and
never even the exciting tea parties and
public conferences that go on all around
them on its corners.
But I will initiate you. Come sit with
me in the writing room of the Hotel Astor
on Saturday afternoon--the room with the
big windows that look out on Broadway
select Saturday because there is fact
New-York tribune., 1919-01-19
New York straight silver
pendant, set with restaurants upon
the breast Of the Atlantic.

they DO great deal up in their little cells
IN the way of adding TO life's complications,
they take sort Of childish pride in always
seeming not 20 DO anything, as I have en-
deaVored TO suggest in the picture of them
which you VIII find above.
And last but not least there is the harbor
and the Battery. and they are interesting
at all times Of the day and ght, so it is
merely personal preference, suppose,
which takes me onto the boat to Staten
Island so many times at sunset.
Twilight and evening star. and all tho
sensations Of setting out on an ocean voy-
age, with the salt ocean wind in ones face
and no relatives on the wharves. may be
had for 1 cents believe il is since the
~ar-not to speak Of the harp and violin
solos on board, which give an Irish quality
to the voyage 10 Staten Island. Seated with
ones back TO the prov one watches graar-
ally recede like a fading movie the dim
shapes Of camouAaged warships. and all
the docks and the tugs and the black
wharves, till there is nothing left but those
dim peaks OF New York calling YOU hsaN
over the foam with their strange allur~
The little lights in the skyscrapers are keen
ing tune with the harp and dancing to the
end. Now they grow fainter now they are
gone, but the city is still with You in the
faces and in the thoughts Of all your fell
low passengers, and the old ferry creaks
into the Staten Island wharf the harp strikes
up with
East Side. West Side.
All around the town.
Sec old Pat O'Hooliean
Dancing up and down
All the girls and boys are out.
And me and Mamie Ro,ke.
And we viii do our step or two
On the sidewalks of New York
New-York tribune., 1919-01-19
Journalists

Kept warm by the fur but by pure joie de
vie.
Under a lamppost she pauses. She pow
ders her nose, showing that musical comedy
and not sex drama is her field The sex
actresses sleuth about in black, with heavy
wells, so that the powder does not get
blown off. But the showgirls are a care
New-York tribune., 1919-01-19

less lot, without social refnements. Now
see; she is joined by a young blade in
lavender spats. a hoorwalker, you said
Oh, my dear, guess again. Did ever floor
walker dodge truck like that?
That is Patsie Brien and he is one Of the
New-York tribune., 1919-01-19

connected with it known only to the pro-
fession, namely, that it is the time of
times to hunt for job. The theatrical
Offices are closed, and the secret is that
they are not closed if you arc canny.
On Saturday afternoon the theatrical
New-York tribune., 1919-01-19
Ships that pass in the night.

that walks alone when you wind 'em up
how much are they-a hundred-oh, well,
send three. Sure, they're for my kid
Christmas-sure, he'll like that 'un pest
Give the little buffers what they want,
sure. Say, I'm over here watin' for EN-
New-York tribune., 1919-01-19
The Tinge 20 See
Ckillaf0lYg2

What is that YOU said? Am 1 stopping
to show You Greenwich Village? Now.
deaue, ! am by nature gentle, but can be
pushed just 50 far. Neither, as you fondly
New-York tribune., 1919-01-19
r--------------------i

"The lucky dog. He cleaned up good
And beat it for the farm
You got farm, they say"
"A sort of one. Quite all want,
Two hundred acres, more or less"
Gee whiz Twenty d do for me.
Some day.
Tickets, please. Yes, first acts on
about ten minutes.
Some day III beat it, too,
And have cow"
"I'll send you one-a Jersey or
Guernsey, eh?"
Give me Jersey, every time"
"This show worth seeing?"
He shrugs his patient shoulders.
"Oh, yes; they say so. I've not been
inside.
How many Jerseys have you got?"
A dim interior, the backs Of necks, far
off lighted stage
And figures moving in painted scene
come too late,
The thing is meaningless to me,
do not feel the strange magnetic pull
Which binds this crowd in silent spell,
All eyes upon these figures in the
frame.
Outside, again
The doorman, patient, leans against the
door.
Beneath the golden entrance lamps
The crowds along the sidewalk.
Stream and shift.
His pale blue ewes
See cows.
Windows!
Great, faring, immoral windows,
Small, cautious, seductive windows,
Craftily laying a trap
With little bait,
But that small morsel choice!
Rugs where autumnal splendors live
again in wool;
Prints that masters thumb and finger
Once lifted from the plate
And laid damp across the masters other
palm,
While the masters eyes
Ran lovingly along the glossy lines;
Socks;
More socks;
New-York tribune., 1919-01-19
Bv Winifred D. Ward

W. Fl AVE you ever tried to describe
- the people you live with? If
so, you know how hard it is to
"a do hecnuse knowing all their
New-York tribune., 1919-01-19
BY Walter Prichard Eaton

IN 7 ar blolOs ring against the
/H/N mountain side
4 VII A crack, q sudden roar,