New-York tribune., 1920-11-15

Generally, discussions entitled ~
Love At First Sighs Possible Z" are re
served for those seasons of the yea
when football has ended and baseball
not begun, when there are no wars
elections or murder mysteries. Gu
only excuse is that the controversy !
not Of our making. 1t has been forcet
upon us by the vigorous protest of ,
correspondent named Marcus A. Good
rich. who writes to the extent of
dozen pages. A week or 80 ago we hap
Iened to comment on "Just Suppose,
and in our remarks we disparaged low
at first sight. We don't think we wen
so far rs to say that there was no suci
thing. 1t is our impression that WI
merely contended that it was amusing
rather than important.
In the play the young heroine meet.
the Prince of Wales, talks to him fo
perhaps two hours, walks in ros,
garden under the moonlight, recites 4
little poetry to the regal young mar
! and then announces after his departur,
that she will probably be little lonely
all the rest of her life. Our only OBJ
lection to the theme lay in the fac
that the playwright himself and all the
other characters in the comedy tool
the emotion of the young miss at he,
own valuation and failed to see its fun.
damentally comic nature.
But probably this is enough to in.
cense Mr.. Goodrich, for he writes tc
the editor: "The cause of my present
ebullition is the puerile dramatic com
mentary of Mr.. Haywood Brorn in to-
days Tribune headed 'As We Were
Saying. 1t seems that when one
arises and attempts serious discus.
sion Of erotic love he is Immediately
branded a sentimentalist, and when he
further attempts to stand firmly be-
hind the proposition that love at first
sight IS not only q common reality
but the prime mover back Of some OF
the most brilliant adventures and "a
nous love affairs, he has added to his
medal the palm of saccharinity I ac-
cept the attributions; but the obverss
Of the medal celebrates Mr.. Haywood
Broun and is inscribed 'Provincialism
and inexperienced 1t is awarded to
those persons who, never having left
the tranquil borders Of their farms and
city neighborhoods, yet insist on OBJ
truding on us their philosophical opin-
ions of life"
But, like Admiral Sims, we have no
intention Of calling for our medal. We
don't feel that we have earned it, for
much as we would like to be the Broun
described By our correspondent as,
surrounded by the Bronx, the sophis-
tlcated hotels, the garish picture shows,
and the cabarets filled with raddled
feminine faces, carrying on defensive
persiflage with prurient males," we must
confess that we are not the man. We
would like it fine. If we were living in
this gay round we would undoubtedly
be more inclined to sympathetic belief
IN the seriousness and authenticity of
love at first sight. We were a little
like that once in the dim, dead past and
when the fox trots were hushed for the
moment while the high soprano sang
about mother. or the patter of tiny foot
steps, or moonlight in Tennessee, we
wept into our beer with the rest. At
that time we had never been in Ten
ressee, nor had we heard the patter of
tiny footsteps and we believed in the
emotions suggested by the soprano.
Maybe we looked at her and were smit-
ten, but that is so long ago that we
have forgotten, and unfortunately we
can't prove it.
Like Anatol we should have kept
bit of red ribbon, few champagne
corks, handful Of diamonds and per-
haps letter or two. Then we nigh.
warm something more than our toes
sitting before the electric heater of an
evening. AS matter Of fact, we think
we had q couple of barrels of such
trinkets, but they were all tossed awav
in the spring houseclcaning of 1918.
Frankly. then. we have no proof. Our
must accept our unsup-
ported word that our disbelief in the
quality of love at first sight
is not because we have had so little
experience but because it has swept