The Washington herald. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1906-1939, 1921-11-18
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NEW YORK, Nov. 17.-Thoughts
while strolling around New York:
Something significant about so
many swallow-tail coats these dry
days. A basket of collie puppies.
Edna Ferber on her way to walk
around the reservoir. A hotel for
Spanish visitors. Wonder who IS
keeper of the castanets? Here's
an ambuscade. My tailor and land
lord walking toward me.
A pallid author. Writes vivid
drama of galloping hoofs on the
purple sage. And has never been
west of Hoboken. Broadway's half
world crawls out for afternoon
breakfast. Active erotically and
quiescent mentally. Fitting from
dancing club to opium parlors.
Matinee girls waiting to see Billie
Burke at the stage door. Hemmed
in by a traffic jam. A haste mad
world. Makes me long for billow-
ing farms. great red barns and calm
faced cattle. The impossible gulf
always between desire and duty.
There goes Veron ca, the dancer.
A Pekingese barking at a st. Ber-
nard. A group of Turks. Shy with
racial self-consciousness. Winter is
limping in. A little pot-bellied man
w tn a bull fiddle. Teatime chatter.
Flirtatious wives full panoplied in
fine raiment.
Downtown New York sweeps
northward. A brilliant fash and
crackle to life. Shop clerks hurry
ing away from work. Traffic lights
flash brlskly. A public-drinking
trough for horses-shining like a
good deed in a naughty world.
Dusk settles around the drab
homes in side streets. Across in the
Jersey hills are the dying embers of
sunset with a faint crescent moon
hanging Ike a cold scimitar. My
garter has snapped again. Here's a
perfume shop. Iii step in. Any
port in a storm.
A New York journal. in telling of
the recent arrival of the Aquatania,
devotes half column to the visit
of a celebrated dancer with an
anklet watch. The last line reads:
II. G. Wells, a writer, was also
passenger"
know how Mr.. Wells felt. At
one time | was city editST of very
large newspaper. When l went back
to my home town many of the old
residenters asked me IL / liked set
ting type"
Window decorations along Fifth
avenue have taken a new turn. They
are closed in like rooms and the
walls are paneled and hung with
fine pictures. Window shopping s
like a stroll through a number Of
ma gnificent homes. There is one in
particular that is quite startling,
There is a huge fireplace and a mag
nificently- gowned woman sits on a
divan 9TH a red-tipped cigarette
between her fingers. A man stands
near her pouring a brown liquid
from a bottle with well-known
Scotch label There is no title to
the picture. but l have thought up
one right out Of my own head. 1t
is, Let's Co."
New York women are stubbornly
refusing to obey the Partisan fash
ion decree for longer skirts. A well
known modiste Is appearing in the
cafes with ankle-length gowns in
the effort to lead the lambkins, but
she is meeting with little success.
Ethel Croy vouches for the truth
of this tragedy. Shortly before go
| ing to England. Sinclair Lewis
| bought fancy suitcase for his
wife They used II on a weekend
J trip up the Hudson. 1t was stolen
on the train, and in IL was the man
| uscript of Lewis new novel. The
wallop in the yarn is that Lewis
| did not have a carbon copy.