The Waterbury Democrat., 1935-01-19
In New York
By PAUL HARRISON

New York--Harlem has changed lot this winter. Yowsah! It isn't the same Harlen--sinister, licen- tious and loud. White folks aren't going much to Harlem any more. and so many of the gaudy, bawdy places have disappeared, Harlem has become Respectable, Comics inn, the Plantation. the Log Cabin, the Silver Grille. Mex ico's--all gone. The Nest. the Lenox. the Band Box, the Clam House-gone too. Incredible things used to happen in the Nest, where Aurelia Perry danced, if you could call 1t dancing. Aurelia doesn't live in Harlem any more. Gladys Bentley, who used to sing and play so tirelessly in the Clam House, has gone plumb hinkty in her shiny tuxedo suit and is real night club entertainer. And Tillie, who used to do the cooking, has her own place now--just we'll hammered little restaurant
 
 Atmosphere Real IAgaln Jungle Alley 133rd streeD doesn't seem in the least forbid | ding these nights. A few little | places are running, but they're pure sepian and the appearance of a white person is considered some thing of an intrusion. Bucks and belles still puff their marijuana cigarets and sip their shorties of | corn whiskey, but that's no longer | any business of the white folks. Tiny basement dives, dimlighted | still, have lost the studied glamor | or tourist spots, and visitors are eyed hostilely as well as curiously. Fact Is that these spots are much more dangerous now than in the Harlem hey-day.
 Of course, few large cabarets are still in existence. There's then | famous old Cotton club, with Cab Galloway marking the rhythms, and a floor show which strives
 nightly to be rowdy. Smalls Par adise and tho Ubangi club, too. The elite of the black belt, togeth- CT with plenty of white visitors. l gathers at Chez Clinton Moore--a new and openly conducted estab- lishment-for good music and ob- | servation of extraordinary goings- on. This isn't Darktown, though, but hybrid Harlemese full of mink | coats and evening clothes, and &C., | cents never heard along any bayou. |
 Masquerade
 Georgette Harvey, Russian speaking Negro actress, has re- vived the Saturday-night soirees In hen upper-Fifth avenue apartment. And here, in the midst of every sort of spontaneous entertainment, are to be met most of Harlem's literati and It's stage folk. | Dickie Wells Theatrical Grill seems as raucous as usual, with the hysterical orchestra alternately blowing its kazoos and sucking its bottles of lightning. An ex-truck driver who prefers to be known under the name of a blonde movie star, sings and sways in beaded evening gown. And customers rise and writhe to the barbaric rhythms.
 | Harlem has changed, but l be- lieve that I am glad it has changed. To me 1t seems more of m adventure to discover and look on at spot like Basement Brown ie's, or to walk, unsuspectingly enough, into 6 tiny place called Aunt Dinah's Kitchen and find the grandest cooking this side of New | Orleans.
 | I believe that Aunt Dinah, better known as Eula Huey, serves the only rela barbecued meats, favored as barbecue should be, in New York city. (The address is 172 West 135th street.) Here Is au- thentic, well-mannared Harlem. with a sprinkling of sepian theatri- cal folk from Broadway, but sel- dom any whites. Aunt Dinah's son, Richard Huey, is Nn actor. And the waitress, Miss Beatrice Smalls, is a graduate of Fiske, class of '32. Sing for. Business
 | All Harlem sings. Times may be | poorly, but there's still melody in life. There's the peddler of soft shelled crabs. hobbling through the places on upper Seventh avenue: "Heah yo' crab-man. Sweet crab good crab--big crab. Heah yo' crabman. Yea-a-a-a-h, An, mean crabm -a-a-an."
 He makes little song of 1t. So does the Fifth avenue seller of hot dogs:
 l "Ah'm hot-dog Dan,
 "De hot-dog man.
 "Sells bes' hot-dogs in de Ian.
 "One fo' five,
 1.-TWO fo' ten
 Buy 'em once. you buy again. Yeah. mani"