New Britain herald., 1930-09-17

New York, Sept. 1T - Sentiment alone-an emotion flinty Manhattan is reputed to lack-will save The Little Church Around the Corner" from the voraciousness of the build ing destroyers. Although it has stood in mellow glory S2 years, greedy skyscraper promoters are after the site.
 Already dollar-a- alumni fund is being raised to preserve the , sanctuary. l turned out of the boil | ing avenue hub-bub yesterday and l in few steps reached this elm -leafy haven of amazing tranquility. A cloud of white pigeons wheeled above the cross. The mullioned 1 windows glinted rainbow serenity.
 It's actual name is the Church of the Transfguration, but Joseph Jeff ! ferson, the actor, bestowed the title i by which it is known. George Hol- i land, kindly actor, was refused 1 burial service at a neighboring church. Jefferson was told: The little church around the corner will do it."
 In his grief he choked: Then God bless this little church around the corner" o. Henry's last rites were spoken there. It is one of the most popular marrying places in all the city, the sidewalk being constantly sprinkled with rice and the gutter with a hurled good luck slipper or i so.
 In springtime it's front garden, slit with cool brick walks, is bright with the verve of fragrant jonquils. Inside is an ecclesiastical Green Room" for actors. The pew of Les ter Wallack is preserved. Its pastor for nine years has been the Rev. pr. Randolph Ray, from Dallas, Tex, a Humanitarian unshackled by ecclesi- asticism.
 During unemploym crisis, Dr. Ray fed a breadline at his gates that totaled 75,000 storm tossed souls. He frequently turns away impulsive elopers and sends them back to par ental roofs. The services are usually attended by a sprinkle of stage and screen personalities.
 As a fairly obliging cicerone for out-o town friends I find The Little Church" is almost invariably among the first three places total strangers wish to see-the other two being the Broadway lights and Gen. tral park. It will be a pity if the church has to go.
 He was a contented white wing. whistling along with his perambulat- | ing cart in the evening hush. A discarded gutter bundle caught his eye and he swerved to the curb. Un- winding the string displayed bunch of withered flowers. He held them to his nose, glanced at me a little sheepishly and exclaimed: Them S lilacs-lilacs with a perfume" And I'm the sort of softie who went on with queer twist in my throat.
 Tiffany's seems the only signless store left on the avenue. Its only distinguishing marks are the small brass numbers 409 over the door. Window exhibits are usually a dull bronze on a lash of sombre plush. Its doorman resembles courtly gall lant of other days. Yet the dignity has paid. It is one of the most high ly profitable jewelry establishments in the land.
 know a gentleman, the unctu- ous rascal, who always rides quickly to the floor he desires in skyscraper elevators-and alone. When a car reaches the ground floor and ejects passengers he whispers to the starter: I'm nauseated. Please tell the operator to rush me to-" nam- ing the floor desired. It never fails to click and we hope some day they make him prove his assertion right there before all the people.
 R. R. F. writes into inquire what I think of H. L. Mencken's Pan- America policy. The back of my neck to him. He can tell him him. self. It is about the 34th variation of that one. There is no fun pan TT eN