New Britain herald., 1927-02-05

paper appendices or the lower part
 of the left lung. On each of these l will be written one word such as
 "Sploettoesser' or Yes" Each guest
 looks at the word on his heart and
 acts out what it suggests to him. If
 it suggests nothing to him he goes
 back to the punch bowl or the back
 stairs. In any case the hostess will find them in one of those two places with in the next five minutes.
 For refreshments, the motif of the 1 occasion should be carried out. A 1 good Valentine meal would be l hearts of lettuce and corned beef
 and cabbage. Personally we think
 corned beef and cabbage are the
 best things to have for any party but that is only our own opinion and if you don't like it you can use your own choice. It's your party
 isn't it, and why are you bothering
 us about arranging it for you? We should think you'd look after your own party and not come to almost total strangers for advice.
 Nowhere today can one find a more blase and nonchalant set of young men than the group one sees enthroned above the crowd, clad in faultless dinner jackets and tottling on sundry instruments in maze of intricate tune and rhythm which they fathom with delft touches that proclaim them masters of their art, We mean the dance orchestra.
 Out of nowhere into here--like the baby of somebody's poem they come. One seldom sees them separated from their life of tune and tempo, Somehow we couldn't imagine one of them out of his dinner jacket, and yet they too must live nearly as we ourselves live. We"wonder then at their aloofness from all things con- mon.
 They arrive at the place in which they are to play. They choose their chairs and blat few tuning notes on their instruments. Then, with a well l suppose we'll have 10 get it over with' kind of gaze, they burst into melody which moves stout matrons and business weary busi- ness men into something approach ing syncopation. They watch with mildly derisive eyes the efforts of the crowd before them and they finish with a final and fiourishing burst. The applause means nothing to them. The leader has in his pocket a sheaf of crisp cracking notes which mean all the applause that they might desire. Let the mob sting it's hands with commendation, the orchestra plays no more until after it's well earned rest.
 If they show signs of being hu- mans like the rest of us, it is only between themselves They laugh at each others jokes and argue among themselves but to the shift ing kaleidoscope before them, they cast no vagrant glances. They are members of the profession" and they have nothing in common with the herd
 To a great extent. the feeling is mutual. Any applause that is given the musicians is given in a slightly condescending manner, in the man. Ter of casting pearls before swine. Unless the band has obtained a great amount of prestige, efforts are forgotten before the milk bottles clank on the front steps the next morning. It's keen melody and rh vi hr,o 1ootS botwao, ;pd;1-;d,,l conversations and is lost in haze oe smoke and chatter. A greater part of the time finds the dancers to- tally unconscious of the music which is filling the room about them. It is merely an accessory to their en- ioyment, and the orchestra, there fore, is an accessory to an accessory and loses it's Individuality in the words "The music was also good"
 We, romancing as usual, had com- pleted a very touching picture of a member of the orchestra. starving for a touch with the outside world but chained to his dais with tho mob rushing beneath him as he brought his sorrow out Ol IllHlSSll lllIOuSu the llOuLHpleCe of his saxophone. We felt quite sorry for him and were about to es- tablish society for the establish ment of more complete under standing between orchestras and Then we overheard conversation between two members of a band.
 ''These dumb murps give me terrible pain in the tonsils. Where they ever rake up bunch like the gang that comes here every night is far beyond me-"
 So our plans for the society for the establishment of a more com- plete understanding between audi ences and orchestras died in the bud. But the feeling still exists. Evi- dently we are the only ones who feel bad about it.