Evening star., 1922-11-26
AROUND THE CITY
THE vanishing American face!
1t was all right for q wise
man to say that Of a city like

II was ali TlSnt tOE NASo
man to say that Of a city like
Detroit. where every second
family is a different sort of foreigner,
but-have you noticed?
1t may be that washington's native
population has discarded street cars
for automobiles. but If you should
chance-just accidentally chance. as
1t were, to ride for a week hand run
ming on any of our lines-it may
strike you that we, too. are beginning
to be streaked with resemblances to
types not our own. Also you may
have observed that the rich-throated
dialect that was south and the twang
that was New England and the wide
mouthed vowels that came from the
prairie west are being submerged In
speech that has no kinship to the old
tongue 1t Is foreign. Progress that
rules all things, in one way or an
other. demands future that Will
mean the vanishing of the American
face.
All of which one man was saying 10
another the other evening in a hotel
grill And which nearby woman
carried in her mind until she could
tab it down-likc this.
IF your memory is elastic enough to
i stretch back to horse cars. you
also will have knowledge Of the van
ishins of many old customs-for one.
women brought their milk cans to
Your door They mostly came from
little shan,ies on commons. where
they could pasture COW. and no
matter how deep the snow. those
shawled and "nuby" wrapped women
most of them old and all of them
cheerful. were the first business
heralds of the day.
They lived in fighting distance of
that wolf we know about and died
as obscurely as a fly drops of behind
a curtain. but. praise be. all of them
today are in the enjoyment of that
reward promised to good and faith
full servants-which would seem to
be all that could be said about them
except for a certain Mrs Murphy.
of the Ould Sod. who won that same
heaven for a man who had no faith
in heaven of his own.
He was a sutler who had made
more than his fair share of money
in the civil war-though you couldn't
call him CRATER, for the reason
that the word had not been coined.
But. anyhow, he had the money and
hA iy In .
himself.
One time. in the black of an icy
morning. he was driving home from
an all-night spree. cussing mad be-
cause his horse had to walk to keep
from slipping on the sleet. And he
kept on Cussing until he got to I
street and saw a figure crumpled up
in front of St Aloysius Church.
Maybe it was just curiosity. and then.
again. it may be truly true that each
Of US has a guardian angel forever
trying to drag US to the right. but,
be that as it may, the man got out
and went over to take a look. And
he found Mrs Murphy. with her can
beside her. kneeling on the lee to
'offer up her day" ..-
Well, sir, that sutler took that Mrs.
Murphy home and paid her for her
milk. Then he went to the church and
nxed it up with Father Lynch--and II
you knew Father Lynch. you knew
Hugo's bishop of the candlesticks-
Fixed 1t up with Father Lynch to
pay that old milk woman regular
money to keep her in comfort for the
rest of her life and let the milk serv-
ing go hang. And he handed over
the money.
Mrs Murphy lived nve years of
sheltered cheerfulness. praying every
day of it for the CRATER who meant
earthly omnipotence to her. Then she
went to heaven and. of course, kept up
her prayings. And then the man died
and went to heaven. too. Father Lynch
said SO. And he knew.
,YIyAY back in those horse-car days
w swarms of small boys would
crop up at the market house on
tho three big market mornings to
tote baskets for housskeepers who
did their own buying. When private
cars became SO general that most any
woman prosperous enough for basket
lids propped up by poultry legs, friz-
sled celery tops and pineapple spikes
could chauffeur her ownself to the
curb-the basket carriers Joined the
vanishing customs. and with them
went the boys who held horses, or
who knelt anywhere. everywhere. to
shine shoes on the street. You have
noticed. however. that progress al
ways provides compensation for any
of us who know how to look for it,
which accounts for our big army OF
newsboys. And Boy Scouts.
Which seems to show how foolish
that Othello man was not to hunt him
up another "occupation.'
+ X X
THREE old cronies boarded a one
i man car. 1t was crowded, but
bunch of women made 1t worse by
packing themselves near the door
The conductor had voiced his slogan
TO move up, please. but the women
were as the stone gods Of Israel that
had ears that heard not and eyes
that do not see. They wouldn't
bulge.
Two Of the old men sort of piloted
the third one. who might have been
anywhere from sixty up to where
you stop counting. and as bulgy-fat
~ they come. But, with all their
engineering. they. found 1t hard slid
ing to get inside, because Of the