The Dawson news. (Dawson, Ga.) 1889-current, 1924-08-05
THE MANY HARDSHtPS
OF THE POOR RICH
ARE HOMELESS, ALWAYS ON
THE MOVE, AND HAVE NO
PLACE TO GO.

Wandered through the tea rooms OF
the Plaza, the Ritz, Sherry the al
ternoon haunts OF society looking 1or
man. That is, for particular lndl-
vidual. They were deserted, by COM
parison with their suave and crowded
state of few weeks ago. Society IS
fleeing the city in fear OF the summer
although in fact New York's summer
climate is the best OF any large city
in the world, writes Herbert Corey
OF course. downtown about Dlvls-
ion street the nights are fairly warm
in August. About that time, too, hors-
es begin dying in the streets and PEG
pie to sleep in parks. The man with
few dollars in his pocket need not
whine about being compelled to stay
in,-town during the summer. Yet New
Workers will tell you that the climate
is detestable Someone told them SO
and they believe it, As New Workers
always do.
Palaces of the Rich Deserted.
The uptown palaces have been
boarded up for months, OF course. The
Vanderbilt homes seem always to be
empty, save for a brief winter season.
Grass is growing high in the yard OF
the Prick mansion, which may be ia
ken as an assault on the caretaker.
The lawn of the big brown Carnegie
house, farther up the avenue, is IN
better condition. The Carnegie house
has always seemed a home rather
than a show-place.
Charles NJ. Schwab's million dol
lar-or is it two million dollar?-
chateau on the drive is gem worth
seeing. now that ivy is beginning to
mantle its gray walls. In its twenty
years OF life l have yet to see one
sign of life about the place. Except
that once a stray dog had crashed
the gate and was rolling on the lawn.
Vincent Astor's great place on the
avenue is to be sold Harry Payne
Whitney's at the Fifty-seventh street
corner is said to be in the market. Lit
tie by little trade is destroying the
character of what was once the finest
avenue in the world.
People Are Such a Bore.
Pity the poor rich Like Noah's
dove, they find no place for the sole
OF their foot, unless like Mrs. Belmont
on Long Island they. can buy up half
a county and put wall around it.
Newport is impossible for them, they
say, because new people who have
nothing but money have bought in.
"One does not know the people one
meets there" said one not long ago.
That cluster OF big cruising yachts
one used to see at the yacht anchor
ages, dominated by Morgan's Corsair,
has thinned out. Now the yachtsmen
go in for racing types. Swimming
dishes that pitch in safe anchorages
when there is a hatful of wind out
side.
Life on the River.
A few persist of course. In the
North river dainty motor yachts are
always to be seen by the sightseer
on the bus tops, sometimes fanked
by keen destroyer or two. Now and
then a gray warship drops its mud
hook there to give its men shore
leave, but for the most part they hang
about the waters of the Brooklyn navy
yard. All day long the string of canal
boats come down the Hudson in tow
Children play about their decks and
the canal boat women hang their
wash out on their lines. They have
been born on boats, many OF these
women, live there all their lives, will
die there. During the winter the boats
are tied up in Coenties slip.
But this is getting away from the
poor rich. They have no homes any
more-poor devils. Not any real
homes at least. They have stopping
places only. They are always NOV
ing on.