The Washington herald., 1920-10-29
.PEPYS DIARY
GLUM RECORD
Out Of Bed for a Day Of Mis-
cry in New York and
Back Again.
BY o. o. MCINTYRE.
SPECIAL Correspondent Of Tho wsshinstez
Asrald.)

Special Correspondent Of Tho Waxhingten
Asrald.)
New York, Oct. 2s.-A page from
the diary of a modern Samuel
Pepys: Up betimes, my poor eyes
aching from reading until dawn.
Came Rev. Callahan. who ministers
to the Bowery poor, and pledged
myself to hear him preach shortly.
He told me. of the sad days when
he was a drunkard and how by
Gods grace ne was saved.
Troubled that I grew more shift
less with time, this day having
spent nearly the whole morning
gazing at window Of newly
whelped puppies on Forty-seyenth
street. and / seem to be Of no
greater ambition than to own them
all and loaf. Strange, indeed, is
the folly of man.
Near the cathedral ! saw a braz-
en- wonan stop to fix her garters
with no shame soever. And the
skirts grow so short fear all
iHVucSNs mas iett inc Torio' Az
lunch ] met OMalley, the scrivener,
quip and ! have repeated 1t with no
success.
Talked with Mr.. Roberts about
the posture of things in Russia,
and he told me such tales of the
degradation and filth there that I
was in a funk and could not be-
lava ~ nnccfh1a knnu-n
him to be truthful.
Walked home Tn the chill air and
am pleased at the coming of win
ter. which to ME is the best season
of all. So many happy faces in
the gasoline buggies rushing gayly
homeward that it is hard to believe
so much misery exists in the world.
Dined with my wife at a new inn
and served by a slovenly fellow and
the food was the worst ever ! ate.
Then home and to reading again
and so to bed.
His Family Must Live.
1t was Ebert Hubbard who wrote
that the man who made the best
mousetraps would soon fnd a path
beaten to his door. 1t may be true
of the mousetrap- maker. but 1t is
not true of the writer of sonnets.
One of the most distinguished
American poets is now at a health
resort near New York living on the
bounty OF a few friends. The other
week another poet here stated that
he would write no more sonnets.
He had a family and they must
live. He is going into factory to
learn a trade.
On Way "Up River"
Every day at the Grand Central
station there are scenes which stir
the passersby, but to which the
station attendants are hardened. 1t
is all a part OF the days routine.
4 shuffling line of handcuffed men
in charge of rather pompous cigar
smoking fellows. are marched
through the great station rotunda.
They are on their way up the
river"-to Sing Sing Prison. And
many will never sec the mighty
roaring metropolis again. Now and
then there are old timers, but each
day there is a frightened youth
VINO is paying his first debt to a
pitiless State. Relatives are not
permitted to tell them Goodbye,
but frequently a lawyer is on hand
to give the perfunctory word OF
hope. l saw one boy, underfed and
sallow. He came into the station
blinking like a frightened rabbit.
As he waited to go through the
gate he looked back over his
shoulder and someone waved to him
from a balcony. He gave spas
modiC Gulp and then seemed to
shrink like one struck.
Three Hours for Lunch.
The European system of idlinG
over lunch Is growing in New York
Many of the coffee houses report
that patrons spend three hours at
the tables eating pastry and drink
ing coffee. Five and six cups of
coffee arc not unusual orders for
each Iuncher. it was reported.