Evening star., 1923-03-11


ponents OF the art Of syncopation
that sophisticated New York could
offer. 'a.r -
But now. as the handclapping for
the last measure had ceased. the
drummer had finished the in
evitable ''tum- tum-tum - fun =
tum.' and the trombone had given its
cynical laugh. an expectant hush fell
upon the dancers. For the velvet
curtains at the end of the room flew
open ann, with a fanfare from the
brass instruments, Il Pierrot leaped
forth. He was recognized at once
the great kadnikov of the Russian
baliet--as with gesture and dance he
cleared the floor. while the orchestra
showing that il was capable OF music
OF IL better sort, launched itself gayly
into the ballet music Of "coppeiia. "
Another gesture from kadnikov. the
curtains parted again and d great
! flower pot rolled into the room
| pulled by group of girls in tights,
dressed as the pages of some sort of
fairy court. In the flower pot was
| d huge rosebud of papier mache
"nich, at Il gesture and prayer in
paHtomirne from Iierrot. slowly
opened its petals, revealing AT last "a
dainty Pierrette peeping out.
At 2 signal she sprang forth. II was
the ballcrina. Balkova the Wonder
ful- She met Picrrot. They kissed. He
grew ardent. he repulSed him. She
fed. He fpllow.d-aIl to the cadence
or the music. Here WAS the very
apotheosis Of ;he dance, grace and
JOY i'll poetry, music and color. Pier
rot caught his quarry at last and
then the fairy pages emerged again
and joined in the ballet under the
shifting colCrs of calcium light which
Moved over the dancers like a veil of
quick silver. To David Sangree il
was all very beautiful and Genie by
his side gave gasp of dismay as the
ballroom fell into sudden darkness.
" men the lights went on the dancers
had disappeared
Applause. Il repetition of the ballet.
at the end Of which the trombone
laughed derisivsly again and in a
moment flc orchestra swept into a
popular tune which brought the real
actors in this human comedy upon
the floor Balhova was great. but
VINO could resist the Tilt of such a
"toddle"?
Sangree turned away. After poetry.
mis- was doegerel. Cherry seemed 70
nave disappeared. but he found her
later coming down the stairs. a
thoughtful expression on her face
I've been looking everywhere for
Sou-to thank you and to say good
night" he said
Are you going?" she asked list
rs something bothering you?" he
asked
NO. Yes. That is-oh-somethinr
terrible has happened, DIR. San
anything that T." he began.
NO. Nothing It's just Wand
m 50 aWfuily fond Of her
You mean that she's-''
just III. She hasn't u very strong
head. The champagne-she's so silIv
] hope nobody noticed"
Cant I take her honl--o''
No. No. That would be fearful
The Everards are terribly strict.
Genie's going to keep her here.
Please don't say anything I know
among David Sangree's social assets
was an important club. the Olympian
He had kept up his membership dur
ing the years of his wanderings. more
III difference TO the wishes of his
dead father. than to any desire TO
avail himself of its privileges. He
mad been elected in his twenty-first
year IN accordance with the custom.
,'ut,, nut haa az rarely been inside its doors
uhtii MS recent return to New York
fecIuse and student by habit. his
social intercourse had been confined
10 those persons with whom his
studies had thrown him
IL was. therefore. with a feeling of
some restraint that he had taken up
the threads of acquaintanceshin and
consansuinity which had for so many
years flown at loose ends There
were old friends of his fathers. of
course now rapidly diminishing in
numper: cousins almost forgotten. a
whom he found it agreeable to speak
OF other days, but there had been
little time to spare for r club until
his book was in the hands of the
printer ready to be launched into
the little backwash of the literary
sea where works such as his found
thelr maven Three-perhaps four
hundred people would read it and
give him much intimate appreciation.
but the newspapers and literary re-
view would dismiss IT with line and
the great American public would con-
tinue In bliSsful ignorance that IL. or
he. even existed.
But, the proofs out of his hands.
Sangree formed the habit of dropping
in at the Olympian in the late after
with George 1.ycett, who still con
tinued. after fashion, to be his
mentor and guide. He found. too.
that number of the young men
whom he had met during the season.
were to be found there in the billiard
or card rooms. bemoaning their fate
at having been born in country
which could see fit to deprive its citi-
zens of their rights as individuals
which meant that they We're thirsty
attendance at the Olympian. as at
other clubs. had been much diminished
by prohibition. and the large rooms
which had formerly hummed with the
sounds of pleasant voices We're now
almost deserted. except at the lunch
con hour. Its members had engage
ments elsewhere. Perhaps they went
home TO their wives and families But
they did not make of "the Morgue"
as they called it, a. meeting place or
refuge from "the cares that infest
the day"
And, indeed. the lofty ceilings of
the huge rooms, designed for dignity
and beauty. seemed to absorb all
sounds of conversation. and foot
steps upon the marble hallway gave
forth a vault-like echo, which made
the name the younger men had given
the place seem most fitting. The
silence of the reading room was in
terrupted only by the quiet snores Of
respectable. If weary. old gentlemen,
who had dozed over their newspapers.
In Il way, the atmosphere of the
place suited Sangree admirably. He
found some profit in the library,
where at odd moments, for diversions:
he browsed over Ferrero or plowed
through Hesiod. or when in a phil
osophic mood dipped into the max
ims' of Publius Syrus. There, some
times, Mr.. Lycett found him and led
him down. against his will, into the
company Of his fellow man., even If
he were only Harold Galbraith or
Teddy Waring. This. in accordance
with the desire. SO aptly expressed
by. Cherry Mohun. that the seeker
after truth should become David
Sangree instead of Rameses the
Second.
ITO be continued tomOrrow.) q"
EhnEc LEE TERM