The Washington herald., 1920-06-18
New York City
By o. o. Mcintyre

New York, June 17.-Thoughts
white ttroIling arcund New York:
A team OF dancers showing some
friends new steps in front of the
Vaudeville Club. A family OF Gu
bans in rubber neck wagon walt
ing to go They'll have to wait un-
I'll the wagon fins up. Times Square
th-ongs watching an ADVERTISING
kite. Jesse Reed, a show girl beauty
from Texas. Blazing red hair.
An aged messenger boy" on rub
ber tired skates. Crowds watching
the Knickerhocker being torn down.
An upset automobile. Nobody ever
sees "a runaway in this town any
more. The cniy horses TO be seen
have a hard time standing up. A
night, lunch wagon. There's the
place to hold a gay midnight party.
Coffee. singers and everything.
A man ccuating a roll of bills in
the doorway of a bank. Wonder
what would happen if I'd snatch It.
/ once got away with a watermelon.
But 1t wasn't ripe. Swimming
schools in every block. Louis
swimming lessons for a year so he
could be a traffic cop in Venice.
1t had. to come. A straw hat
named after Babe Ruth. They
haven't washed those stone lions in
front of the public library yet.
Here's a lunch place where they
have a classy French singer. Wears
spangled dress and has a hne
voice. i went to hear her once but
l had a friend with me who ordered
soup and I couldn't hear.
A young flapper guiding that
hesitant gentleman escort toward
jewelry shop. 1 hope she gets
ruby. A former member of the
/ Four Hundred now broke. Acts as
glorified society reporter and re-
tails the gossip. Pellucid and pale.
A chic person in a glngham frock
and smartly tilted hat. A child of
the Nightless Lane. In few years
she loses her beauty. Then what!
Morris Gest, the theatrical pro-
ducer. sailed from England in the
steerage and arrived in New York
occupying the captains cabin.
which will not surprise anybody
who knows Gest. He began as
newsboy in Boston after arriving
lTOll INuSSld dS a Slo" .No"
he is one of the biggest theatrical
men along the Rialto-threatening
at times to eclipse his illustrious
! father-in-law, David Belasco.
! The cross streets of Manhattan
I are filled on Sundays and holidays
with motley array of folk who
| leave the tenements to move over
I into Central Park 10 see a touch of
/ green and to breathe a little fresh
air. Old couples, with the men al
ways walking in front and the wo-
men carrying little baskets and
/ boxes OF ll--.ch. The Italian with
I his gorgeous mustache. squeaking
/ new shoes, coat over his arm, and
/ his gay-colored suspenders fairly
/ dazzling. Little children of foreign
! parentage with floats made OF
American flags and bunting. In
| valids in wheel chairs. There is "A
] touch OF pathetic gayety in IL all.
! The police shunt them around off
! the grass and treat them like they
| usually do the poor bit con-
temptuously. But they have 4 good
/ time. just the same with no envy
for the smart limousines and horse
/ drawn equipages that pass them
| ny on the smooth macadam. They
/ gather under the wisteria arbOrs for
their bite to eat-sharinG with their
own and strangers who may accept.
At dusk they return home. tired but
/ happy. Some of the men have stood
! their new shoes as long as they can
so they may be pardoned if they
return in their bare feet.
An intensely nervous man. who
| feared sea voyages like normal folk
! fear jungle at night, was coaxed
! into telling a friend good bye on a
vessel sailing for Havre the other
day. By accident the boat pulled
out and was nearly to the Narrows
when he discovered his plight. He
! fell on the deck prOstrated. And
/ he crossed the ocean and came back
and is going again next month.