The Washington herald., 1920-11-19
RICHPAY VISIT
TOPAVN SHOP
Thoughts While Strolling in
New York Described by
o. O. Mcintyre.
BY O. o. M,INTYRE.

NEW YORK, Nov. 16.-ThouRhts
while strolling around New York:
A woman hurrying from limou-
sine into a pawn shop. Wonder
where my fur overcoat is? Uni
formed nursemaids wearing bands
of crepe for MacSwiney. A bulbous-
faced Chinese woman blinking at
the cathedral spire. Trucks moving
a steel girder more than a block In
length.
Dapper little men with wisps of
mustaches idling In ladies' tailor
ing salon. Suppose they are bulgfng
with chiffon thoughts. A man
lighting his cigar with q magnify
ing glass. That's the way to con-
serve our rugged forests. A group
day. Harrison Fisher, the artist,
gazing upon q window of hammered
silver.
Powdered, tired faces. There
goes an fashioned girl with her
skirt dropped below her knees.
They are almost giving. silk shirts
away. Girls. the French caricature
sculptor. Wears a purple velvet
vest. Came over to caricature q
group of millionaires.
Hippodrome clowns getting a
breath of fresh air at the stage
door. There's nerve for you. A
group of men passing a flask around
on the street. Still "a lot of the
restaurants make you drink before
you enter. Julia Sanderson with a
blue Chow dog. They say they cost
in the thousands. I'll bet my pup
can lick him.
An old long haired man in bare
feet. There's one or more in every
city and still the price of shoes
doesn't come down. Nick, the
Greek. He loans money to actor
folk on their Jewels and Is well
fixed. Three theaters dark. And
they say you can get choice seats
to the best shows at the cut rate
ticket shops.
Always an interesting group In
front of the Vaudeville Club House.
Snappy young men who are eternal
ly singing syncopated tunes, old
timers who brag of past glories.
Plump over-dressed women who
call everybody by their first names.
They say II is going to be a rough
winter in stage circles. But you'd
never believe IL from this crowd.
Salamanders of Broadway at
times find the sailing rough. This
Is the story of one who forages for
luncheons and dinners and sundry
jewels in exchange for fattery. She
was properly introduced to a two
listed mid-westerner and invited to
lunch.
At the table she recited the usual
tale of woe. Things, as usual. were
breaking bad and 1t was tough for
respectable girl in a wicked city.
There was a hint of tears and at last
she showed him some pawn tickets.
He looked them over. Then he
handed them back to her.
Il thought maybe" she said coy
ly. you might want to take care of
one of them for me-"
20, no." he replied, II might lose
it."
Three hotels announced reductions
In their food prices but as might be
suspected there was a catch In II.
Those who wish to secure the cheap
er food are forced to set In a sep
arate dining room-away from the
glamour, music and ultra fol de rol.
Away down in Greenwich vii.
lage, where the spinsters go for
thrillage," as the ditty has II, there
has been opened to the public a
place called the Dark Cave. A
small single tallow candle lights
the abandoned cellar and no one IL
asked to leave until dawn. Coffee
tea-and what one brings on the
hip-are served. No music. no
frills-just serious thinking.