New-York tribune., 1920-09-26

picnic (lC Is understood that this
can take place only in q neighboring
state.) Picnic: blue points, canvas
backed duck, etc, as before. Ice
water. Return Of the automobile,
still faster, the hamper being empty.
Home at $3.50 a. m. Several friends
from Oregon arrive with introduc-
tion. One puts them into an auto
mobile and hikes around to see the
East Side, the workers rushing over
Brooklyn Bridge and Gansevoort
Market. 8 a. M, breakfast; green
corn, plenty Of fruit, etc., as before
Ice water.
You may think I am exaggerat-
ing, but that is the picture which
we create out of our conversations
with Americans and out Of Amer
lean novels and magazines. You
must place yourself into the frame
of mind of one who has never been
to America and who builds his pic
ture of it through inaccurate obser-
walton and Lyrical imagination.
In regard to the country toward
which | am moving my mind is vir-
gin soil, save for the presence of
intellectual frenzies. Notably I am
expecting to be rather puzzled by
the language. shall, no doubt,
be put wise after a short residence
in the greatest country on the foot
stool, but in the mean time / shall
probably find it difficult to get down
to brass tacks without the help of
dictionary. 1t is all going to be
very strange. 1t is going to be very
strange to reside in country where
puritanism is so extreme that a
picture Of a dancer is prosecuted if
it appears in the press, while at the
same time sartorial liberalism is
such that she can wear costume
/ which would not be allowed in
London.
1t wasn't England who thought of
wrapping up table legs for the sake
of decency: it was New England. 1t
wasn't England invented the pneu-
monia blouse; it may not have been
New England, but it was America.
So, in advance, / construct strange
model, which we may call the Ameri-
can Janus, with two faces, one that
frowns as a Pilgrim Father, the
othef crowned in Bacchic vine leaves.
Yet I find it difficult to fit definite
features to the American Janus.
The Americans I have met seem to
fall mainly into two types: one, Of
them lean and dry, with long cheeks,
the traditional Uncle Sam, the other,
burly and broadheaded. The old
dry Uncle Sam seems sarcastic and
Scotch; the new American may bark
back to the slender influences of the
Dutch ancestors of New Amsterdam.
Janus massive, or Janus lean?
Which is it?
There is certainly much to puzzle
me in the American. One thing is that
don't always understand his form
of humor. 1t is more direct than that
of the English, more economical
of words. The Englishman's idea of
Joke is long preparation followed
by shock. The good American joke
consists solely in shock, and I think
it lies to the credit of your country
that you invented the shortest joke
on earth; the proprieties, however, to
which the English are so attached,
prevent my reproducing It here.
have a vision of the hotels am
going to visit, to say nothing of their
bills. I rather look forward to the
hotels themselves, to their sixty
floors, their dancing halls on the
roof, their reproductions Of the sea-
side in the basement. But am nerv.
GUS when I reflect on the labor saw
ing bedroom, with it's button for
fresh air, button for hot air (essen-
tial to writers), ice-chest, electric
heater, radiator, bed lights, letter
chuss ead automatic taleDhonas IL Ia