The Washington herald., 1922-06-01
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.Duyby Day
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11I
NEW YORK. May sl.-rhoughts
while strollinG around New York:
The park lakes shimmerinE with
morning. The iron dear belt. Re-
modelled brick homes with croquet
grounds. Acres of autos. Swift
and soundiess. Apple-iike boys in
pony-drawn dog carts. A forbid
ding mansion. Ever mysterious. A
millionaire lives there. With a
Manchu wife.
Upper Fifth avenues smart shop
ping district. The docking space
for European fashions. The per-
fume of French decadents. Impe-
rial silks and clattering hansoms.
Well-washed blonds in tennis fIan-
neis. All steamed up. The society
c. ID. Gibson produces in ink. Dis
tolored by delusions of grandeur.
There goes Ochs. the proprietor
OF the Times. Windows of Sevres
china and lapis laEuli. Luncheons.
Fittings. Teas. Bridges. tan
gled cosmos. Wonder II Ring Lard
ner is wearing last summers straw
hat. The new shade is a dark tan.
Music With Your Shine" reads
sign.
what has become Of the New
England boiled dinner? The noon
day Broadway crowds. soft-shoe
dancers. Luncheon cadgers. News
tipsters. Curbstone evangeiists.
And hard-boiled eggs. shanley's
cafe has been done over. soi ls-
thing epic--I don't know what
about steam ng coffee urns.
lntellectuals going TO the Coffee
Club. Everything Russian-even
RussiaT grand opera. with
bearded tenor. Frank l.. Packard.
the novelist, going to pious mid
day retreat. They used to serve
gorgeous mint juieps there. Made
Of Bourb IN. Now they serve syn
thetic gin cocktails. Tasting like
dog soap.
Leblang's theatrical cut-rate
ticket shop. Bought big drug
store TO give him a Broadway en-
trance. There's a merry hurrah.
fellow with a purple derby and n
yellow tie. Try to picture that
while l devour few hot sau-
sages.
Radio has broadcasted a lot OF
men into good jobs along Park
Row. Among the highest salaried
men on newspapers these days are
the radio experts. One electrical
expert on an evening journal is re-
ceiving $4,000 a year. And the
radio reporters-leg men-are get
ting from 500 to sl25 a week.
Now that the supper clubs can
not permit dancing after o'clock
they are offering special vaudeville
acts to hold the crowds. The man
ager announces the last dance and
tells with quivering voice Of the
municipal edict that is spelling New
York's night life. Those gho must
dance away the tagging hours are
rushing to the road house, after 2
O'Clock. where the police regula-
tions are not SO strict.
Down near sun-drenched. swarm
ing, grassforsaken Tompkins
Square on the East Side is an in
teilectual club founded by Russian
workers-not the refugees or vio-
lent theorists-but earnest. newly
made citizens who wish to preserve
something Of a cherished heritage,
the love of native books, music.
tolk stories ana dancing. In the
basement OF the club Is a Moscow
restaurant where they sit at tables
slipping creaming mugs u brown
kwass-a sort of exotic cider. l!v-
cry evening one may hear the bala-
laiks playing Moussorgsky and
Rimsky- Korsskoy. There is free
library filled with books OF Toll
stoy. Pushkin. Turgeniev. Dostoiev-
sky. Corky. Chekhow. Kropotkin
Gogol and Andreiev. The building
which houses the club is decorated
with bright allegories of Life. In
the Railways are statues of Chalia-
pin. Lincoln, Andreiev and Wash
ington. 1t is colorful place-as
polorful, indeed, as Tompkins
Square, which is filled with q pop
ulation from almost every foreign
land.
They found the telephone operator
at fire headquarters in a faint the
other morning. 1t appears that
lady called up and inquired II there
was a man named Murphy in the de-
partment.