New-York tribune., 1921-05-15

Nv ToNDERING what wax model in .
AAI store window thinks about belongs to
Wv different department of the paper.
Ethaealiy speaking, l should have
turned the thing over to Mr.. Briggs and passed
quietly out of the scene. But the boss wouldn't
hear Of it.
"No," he said. seThis is your Idea, or, rather.
mine, and we are going TO keep it,"
And when the boss puts his foot down that
way, he does-wel, rather
eJust totter along he went on, land find
out all about the wax nodels--where they live,
how they live and why. Interview some OF
shem personally. When you come back want
you to be quite frank and tell absolutely the
whole truth about conditions as you find them
in the waxwork aristocracy."
Naturally, with these definite instructions,
there was nothing to do but go out and meet
the inexorable figures In wax on their own
home grounds Much as the idea appalled, me,
it was case of stiiing my own feelings and
proceeding with che grotesque notion.
In the larger life WAX models hsve never
disturbed me TO any great extent. Passing
down the avenue have given them, as you
might say, as icy stare as they gave me- Our
lack of ccngeniality seemed quite mutual, and
I. for one, was willing TO let it go at that.
Never have really been concerned when their
lips were parted In something more than
formal greeting, when their hair appeared pal>
pabiy false and their coloring uncertain and
uncouth. It hasn't r.attered to me that their
arms were usually balanced out at impossible
angles and their fingers poised in graceless
,.:J fhav aa
suraed il did not bother me, for. so far as act
ually mingling with the wax folk goes,
haven't.
Not that felt they were above me socially.
Not at all. Though their ladies might be wear
ing the Anal breath in silks and satins, five-
hundred-dollar gowns with all the furbelows
of modern fashion, and their men peering
grandly from tight-ftting colege-cut garments
of 100 per cent sartorial perfection, somehow,
in spite of these frothy details, continued to
be aware that they were, after all, just wax
models, mere commercial persons who stood In
show windows and displayed with great osten-
tation clothes that didn't belong to them.
There were others, less versed in the precious
terms Of modesty, who stood boldly out against
the horizon exposing unmentionable items OF
wearing apparel. shall not speak of them
except to hint that their condescending stares
have left me cold. felt that their disdain
was beneath my notice. When set out TO be
snobbish I know no restraint
But there are occasions when one must
ignore everything else and proceed with the
business of life. In such repressed mood
started forth to make some intimate friends
among the wax model trade. Turning my coat
collar up and pulling my neck in close to my
shoulders, headed for Fifth Avenue with
determined do-or-dare expression. On this ne
farious errand of duty did not care to be rec
ognized by my real friends.
At any season of the year the shopping dis
trict terrifies me. There are Too many women,
too many displays of filigreed lace and too
many foorwalkers with prominent Adams
apples. It is combination that never ap-
pealed to me. Occasionally, by special mes
senger, some one has sent me suit Of clothes,
pair Of shoes or necktie. Otherwise,
should go about as a vagabond. Considering
which, perhaps you can imagine my gloom
arriving in the midst of whirling Thursday
afternoon crowd.
First, I tried riding up and down on the
top of bus, spying out the wax figures that
looked as though they were fit subjects for
zoo casual. Likely looking ladies at forty
PAGES became gross caricatures at ten feet;
what thought was girl wearing bathing
suit turned out to be something quite different.
Proximity was essential to success
Finally, in the late Thirties on the corner
of the Avenue, found my beautiful lady.
Really, she was. Madame Tussaud herself
would have been proud Of that lady in wax.
She sat regally pink chair in pink
ROOM I am inclined to think it was boudoir
but you never can be certain. As a means Of
further Identification, there was dressing
table with set Of folding mirrors attached,
too clumsy for shaving mirror but following
a similar system. Apparently the lady had
finished at the mirrors, for she was sitting
back at ease and very much at home.
Her dress was made of pink lace--at least
that was my general impression--and her
slippers and stockings were also pink. AS you