The Washington times., 1923-08-03

1t has been more than twenty
years since the National Capital
has awakened to get such sorrowful
news.
A line from the popular waltz
song Is used here only to emphasize
the time. There is no Tilt of dance
music in Washington at this hour.
This writer is up and writing be.
cause a newspaperman' duty calls,
and, besides, he is restless, and
sleeples and untrung. Others are
awake because the Government is
changing and q good and gentle
man has gone.
There must be human interest
stories in Washington at an hour
like this-and there were and are.
Before the extras came upon the
streets, and the newsboys started
out with cries whose significance
they did not realize, the Washing
paper put out this black-bordered
bulletin:
President Harding has just died. :"
A wayfarer who had little else to
do at that hour-it was around
IL o'clock Washington time-stoOd
outside and then stayed there and
called the bulletin to the attention
Of passersby.
But are you sure it's true?"
asked an old woman who happened
to come along the street. He was
SO we'll yesterday and today"
She spoke with an accent and
then size explained it:
II am a French woman but in
France we love your President. Is
he really dead?
And as she was told that the
bulletin was true she wrung her
thin hands and said things in a ma
tive tongue. that bystanders did not
translate but understood.
There came next a fellow and his
girl; a couple from a vaudeville
house, on the way to a restaurant
They stood before the bulletin board
just a second or so. The restaurant
was a door or two away.
Gee, that's tough" he said.
Isn't it terrible" she said.
After that they got to talking
about Harding and what a fine man
he was-and climbed back into their
fliVver and forgot about the after
theater meal they intended to cat.
1HE66 " dSHlHSLOII lldPpcIS
started by and the melancholy way.
farer who had little else to do
pointed in silence to the bulletin
board. The three girls stopped, ran
fingers nervously through their
bobbed hair, and used such express
sions as these:
THE President dead? I've got to
call up dad, he adored him"
Il don't believe it; the extras
would have been on the street by
now"
Sorrow Is Universal.
rolling, and he was the incest,
kindest man 1 ever saw"
Who is going to be President
| now?"
And so the flappers went their
way, sorrowing in their own fashion.
Yet, in their "flapperish" comments
they typified, whatever their con-
ception of the economic and political!
effect Of the death of a President of
| the United States, a certain type OF
Americans who lament the passing
of the great, and somehow feel that
| they have encountered a personal
sorrow
These things all happened before
| TINS bulletin bOard-and other things
| besides were enacted there
Standing before a newspaper of
flee on a night. or morning, Xix e
this almost brought the emotions of
a whole country in review here in
| it's Capital.
You see, here was the fellow who
| didn't believe the President was
dead. Hadn't the latest bulletin,
| issued Just an hour or two before
| reported that he was coming home
! soon? Had not Warren Harding
himself. turning to DR.. Sawyer,
smiled and said now we are out
Of the woods?" Then there was
the man or woman who had come
down town to the theater and want
ed no bad news as they started
homeward. Again, there was the
sort Of American who thought this
country already had enough trouble
without losing its Chief Executive