The Washington herald., 1919-06-07

New York, June 6.-The ancient
wrecks that are the last link be-
tween the equine and the motor age
are getting scarcer each. day. The
day of the cab horse is about ended.
Only at night is the cab horse in
demand and the dilapidated drivers,
half asleep. can be seen on the box
around Herald and Times Square
after midnight apparently not car
ing whether business becomes ex-
tinct or not.
The cabmen are generally a phil
| osophical lot and in my opinion
more trustworthy than the average
New York taxi driver. The other
night at Broadway and Forty third
street John Murphy a famed Broad
way cabby. was hit by a woman's
! comb.
John had gone to sleep on the box
! Of his cab and there ID proof that
Johns nag. Dolce Far Niente, by
1nflammatory Rheumatism. out of
I Sleeping Sickness, had been in a
comatose state since sundown. The
comb to which was attached a piece
of note paper bearing the thrilling
legend. Help! Man in room."
beaned Dolce Far Niente squarely
between the ears without getting a
! flicker of recognition.
/ But when the comb had bounced
from the dome of the nag. then from
rib to rib to rib and finally into the
lap of the doing John Murphy,
John Immediately Strengthened up
leaned for his whip and said me-
chanically:
/ Yes. sir. I know every place in
town that's still open. Where to,
sire"
! Then John looked at the paper,
read it and looked up and saw a
/ fair maiden in distress in an upper
window. In a jiffy he mounted the
stairs leading to her apartment and
caught the mana burglar-hiding
under the bed. The young lady was
asked to go to a police station. In
stead of taking Johns cab-well she
called taxi and John. his bone S
creaking and joints stiff from the
night air, threw an extra blanket
over Dolce Far Niente, climbed back
on his box, lighted a pipe and dozed
on and on. Around his mouth was
q quaint philosophical half smile.
II guess we are about done for"
he said to Dolce as dawn appeared.
/ 1t is a long time since Broadway
was pasture and many a year since
the boys and girls of the old Quaker
School on Henry street tramped
north on Saturday afternoons to
picnic in the woods and farm lands
near what is now Fourteenth street,
far outside New York.
The dusty country roads have
given way to busy streets. the red
brick farm houses to noisy tene-
ments. and the Havcrstraw brick
barges are not moored to the Canal
/ street dyke in these times.
The tide has swept northward-
inorthward even above Columbus
Circle and smart people go to tea
at the Plaza. the Majestic and even
further up at the Claremont But
down in a dusty Office room on
Grand street. Edward H Ridley.
white haired. the first merchana
prince of the old days. still works
daily at the desk where he began
in 1860. He is the owner of New
York's first department store and is
in the late seventies.
Returning soldiers around town
are refusing to pay the 3-cent war
tax on soda water. Several scenes
have been created in the drink
places around town, but the men
have evidently formed a club for
they never give in when the man.
agement explains that it goes to the
government. Soda water is the chief
drink for the men. it is said.
Scarcely day passes that Mayor
Hylan does not scold the New York
newspapers. And in turn there is
scarcely a day without a chide or
so from the newspapers for Eiz-
-oner. Only the Hearst papers
seem to have n respect for the
mayors dignity.