The Waterbury Democrat., 1934-10-22
In New York
By PAUL HARRISON

.
 New York.--Odds and ends: A few. reactiinaries seem to have taken to soap boxes in an effort to stem the leftward tide. Among the speakers in Columbus Circle the other evening was an expo nent of the conservative 'isms"-- capital and republicans. "Yah!" jeered a long-hafred neighbor from another rostrum. Ragged individuist!'
 And here's story about tar- if problem. A Broadway mer- chant wanted to import some gloves from Czechoslovakia. but found the duty would be prohibit. tive. Fretted about it for months, and finally had an inspiration. Af- ter a lot of correspondence with the foreign firm, a big consign- ment of gloves arrived in customs and was held for tariff charges. The merchant refused to pay and eventually the stock was thrown into the regular government auc- tion of forfeited merchandise.
 When the cases were opened they were found to contain 12.000 right-hand gloves, no lefts. Nc- body wanted them, and the orif;. inal consignee got them for alnlo.t nothing. Shortly afterward a shipment of 12.000 left-handed gloves arrived. Again they were merchant bought them cheaply. His competitors learned of the scheme, though, and it's said that Washington has promised them it won't be worked again.
  The Motto Leaks
 Some acquaintances of mine who are ancestor-conscious went to one of these genealogists who traces family trees and figures out coats of-arms. He fixed them up all right, and told them a little story about another of his clients. This one was a fellow who had made a
 lot of money in plumbing: after starting with little shop he now owned whole string of them. He also had a country home and so-
 cial ambitions.
 The genealogist found out all about the clients forebears, and then was called on to supply a | cota of -arms with motto. TherG had to be a motto, said the plumb CT. So an elegant design was drawn up, and under it written, in French. a familiar old phrase:
 After me, the deluge." The plumber was greatly pleased.
 
 Losing Bad Pennies
 Apartment-bound urbanites have a harder time than you'd imagine getting rid of things. I've re- counted the legend of the young
 husband who carried the we'll wrapped remains of a pet cat back and forth between home, and of- 1 flee for several days, awaiting a chance to toss it off ferry boat and how he finally discovered that he unwittingly had exchang- ed his parcel for similarly-wrap ped leg of lamb.
 And I may have mentioned the man who discovered an easy way to get rid of old razor blades. He simply mails them to a concern which advertises that it resharp- ems old blades--and gives them a fictitious address.
 Now I've just heard of a third man, bachelor, who cleaned out his closets and chests the other day and made a great pile of shirts, collars, socks and the like which he never wanted to wear again. Did them up into bundle, intending to drop them into a refuse can on the way to his office. But every can he came to had peo- pie standing nearby. and he imag- ined that they were eyeing him curiously. Finally he saw a Chi nese laundry and ducked in there, The proprietor hefted the package and gave him check. "You get tum Fliday." said the Chinaman. NO Hurry" said the customer, and walked out happily. tearing up the laundry slip.
 Musical Revenge The doorman of my own apart ment house contributes an anec- dote. Maybe you recall the name of Beth Lackey; she was the teacher-and wanted to be the guardian--of Ruggiero Ricci, the violin prodigy. She had many other small pupils, too, who fid- dled while neighboring tenants burned in anguish. The man on the floor below tTm told) stood it for three years. until one hot aft were playing a recital for their proud papas and mamas. Then the tenant went out and hired one of the little German bands which toot along the side walks of New York until the har- assed residents of each block bribe them to move on. He brought them right into his apart ment and ordered them to play. The violin recital subsided, per-,