The New York herald., 1922-04-30
By HENRY w. NEviNsoN.

AMeSJSSH aoWS1eSS AVPS Nv AAss
BY HENRY "
TN mist and driving snow the
towers Of New York fade from
: view. The great ship slides down
the river. Already the dark. broad seas
gloom before Ter. Goodbye most beau
tiful OF modern cities. Goodbye to
glimmering spires and lighted bastions.
dreamlike as the castles and cathe-
drals Of a romantic vision! Goodbye
to thin films Of white steam that issue
from central furnaces and fit in dis
solving wreaths around those precipi-
tous heights! Goodbye to heaven piled
Offices, SO clean, SO warm, where lovely
stenographers, with silk stockings and
powdered faces, sit leisurely at work
or converse in charming ease! Good
bye, New York! / am going home. I
am going to an ancient city of mean
and moldering streets, of ignobie
coverts for mankind. extended mo-
notonously over many miles: Of grimy
smoke clinging closer than a blanket;
OF smudgy typists who know little OF
silk or powder and less OF leisure and
charming ease. Goodbye, New York!
l am going home.
Goodbye to beautiful Apartments"
and "homes"! Goodbye to windows
looking far over the city as from a
mountain peak! Goodbye to central
heating and radiators, At symbols OF
the hearts they warm! Goodbye to
frequent and we'll appointed bath
rooms. glory Of the plumbers art'
Good-by to suburban gardens running
to separate friend from friend or en-
envy from enemy! Goodbye to shady
yerandas where rocking chairs stand
ranged in rows. ready for reading the
voluminous Sunday papers and the
Saturday Euening Posti Goodbye,
America! ! am going home. ! am
going to a land where every mans
house is his prison--a land OF open
fires and chilly rooms and frozen
water pipes. of washing stands and
slop pals, and one bath per household
at the most; land Of fences and
hedges and walls. where people sit
aloof and see no reason to make them
selves seasick by rocking upon shore.
Good bye, America! i am going home
Back to Ham and Eggs
And Land of Violet Tea
Goodbye to the copious meals-the
early grapefruit, the cereals" the
eggs broken in a glass! Goodbye to
oysters. large and small, to celery
and olives. besides the soup, to sea
food" to sublimated viands. to bleed
ing duck, to the salad course. to tie
individual pie" or thet thick wedge OF
apple pie. to the invariable slab Of ice
cream, to the coffee. also bland with
cream, to the home brewed aicohol!
j am going to the land OF joints and
roots and solid pudding: the land Of
ham and eggs and violet tea: TIE land
where oysters are good for suicides
alone. and where cream is seldom
seen; the land where mustard grows
and whisky flows. Goodbye, America !;
I am going home.
Goodbye to the long stream Of
motors-'limousines or "fiivvers"!
Goodbye to the signal lights upon
Fifth avenue. gold. crimson and green;
the sudden halt when the green light
shines. as though at the magic word
an enchanted princess had fallen
asleep: the hurried rush for the leis-
urely lunch at noon. the deliberate
appearance OF hustle and hustle in
business; the jews. innumerable as
the Red Sea sand. Goodbye to out
side staircases for escape from fire,
Goodbye to scrappy suburbs Uttered
with rubbish OF old bootsi Goodbye
to standardized villages and small
towns. alike In litter, in ropes of cleo
trio wires along the streets. in clank-
ing "trolleys." in chapels. stores. rail-
way stations. Main streets and iso-
lated wooden houses flung at random
over the country! Goodbye to miles
OF advertisements imploring me in ten
foot letters to eat somebody's Goldfish
Ono Bones') or smoke somebody's
cigarettes ("They Satisfy") or sleep
with innocence in the "Faultless
Nightgown"! Goodbye to the long
trains where one smokes in a lava
tory and sleeps at night upon a shelf
screened with heavy green curtains
and Heated with stifling air. while
over your head or under your back the
baby yells and the mother tosses
moaning, until at last you reach your
stopping off place." and a semi-negro
sweeps you down with little broom,
as In supreme rite of worship!
Goodbye to the house labeled
Ono Hundred Years Old" for the
amazement of mortality! Goodbye to
thin woods and fields inclosed with
casual pales. old hoops and lengths Of
wire! I am going TO the land OF a
policeman's finger. where the horse
and the bicycle still drag out a Iinger-
ing life: land of persistent and 81
lent toll: a land OF old villages and
towns as little like each other as one
woman is like the next; land where
trains are short, and one seldom sleeps
In them. for In any direction within n
day they viii reach a sea; land Of
vast and ancient trees. Of houses time
honored three centuries ago, OF cathc-