New Britain herald., 1930-04-04

New York, April 4-Thoughts while strolling: Those chunky fel- lows who sport big diamond rings and smoke fat cigars in front of chop houses. P. G. Warehouses; fawn spats. And whose last name sounds like baby talk Sign in a speakeasy window: "Hemstitching." :" Tailors don't sit cross-legged in windows anymore.
 Burns Mantle, a Watertovn. \. f., boy, who made good in the city. The eerie gloom of a theatrical costume shop. Jules Bache's mon- ocle. Georges, the Algonquin head waiter, who has been mentioned in a score Of novels. The desolation in mammoth fur stores.
 Bill Brady and his wife Grace George. A hand beauty" parlor. And the tiny shop that sells only combs. The cafe with the profane parrot where sea captains go. Who remembers when boys carried but ton hooks in the sides of their shoes :? | Charles M. Schwab steps out of q taxi.
 A jazz orchestra advertisement | waXes poetic with: Pleading volins, 1 laughing piccolos, rumbing kettle drums and sonorous bass viols." i" | Emily Post, the authority on good manners. Fred M. Knowles prowling about for antiques. Phil Cunning, | the stage director.
 A thunder storm comes up. Rain spatters down. Nothing prostrates New York like shower. And no city responds so quickly to outdoors when the sun pops out again. Silly 10 have to make a living this way 1 Still it beats following a Missouri blow.
 You wouldn't know Dr. Rockwell off the stage. He seems to have shrunk. The blind Negro who re- cites Omar and the Ballade of Read ing Gaol. The library lions are get. ting their summer scrubbing. w. K. Coe, the millionaire turfman. who spends fortunes raising flowers as a diversion.
 The side entrances of Fifth avenue five and tens. For the limousine trade, Erlanger's general manager, Jack Dillon. The eX-Broadway wine agent who now clerks in a drug | store. Farrar and Rinehart. the young publishers. And so ends an- other stroll. Poo-boop- pee doc. It strikes me-snatching the baton from Paul Whiteman for a moment-that the whistlingist tune of the year is Happy Days are Here Again."
 l benign gentleman with white whis- | kers occupies a deep cushioned chair in the lobby. tuclls large red silk handkerchief in his collar, napkin fashion, and smokes a cigar The handkerchief is to keep ashes off his vest but curious crowd always stands by, expecting him, no doubt to take a goldfish out of his pocket or something as a prelude to salat ballyhoo.
 It is whispered a pretty actress re- gently submitted to the extraction ot all upper and lower teeth. A gum infection brought about by drink. ing poisonous liquor was blamed by the officiating dentist.
 Among the vanishing figures ot Times Square life, whose return tt
 England has evoked columns O.
 comment, is Kitty Marion. For l: years she stood on various corner:
 peddling the Birth Control Review , Although an ardent suffrage zcalot she accepted the banter of aftel dark drunks with good humor ant
 is credited with selling more thai
 100000 of her tracts.
 |. A writing man tells me that il , those agonizing sterile moments tha , come to all members of the sill.
 guild he turns on full a bathtub fau , cet and the sound of running wate somehow breaks down the menta