The Washington times., 1936-12-22

10 De losing Edwin Z. Hill
out this year. Buffalo, for the
first time in history, will have
none. Salvation Army officers
say that with the pickup in
jobs, it is hard to get a trust
worthy Santa Claus who won
pouch the pennies.
Furthermore, they have been
discourageing the standardized
impersonation these last few
years, as have many social vel
fare and charity workers. Chill
dren are confused by seeing hall
q dozen Kris Kringles on a sin
gle trip, ask embarrassing ques'
tionS, cause annoyance and trou.
BILE and suffer wavering faith and
belief in the veracity of their
elders.
THE OTHER SIDE
One Of my friends, a young
woman social worker, explained
the santa Claus situation. She
said:
Sensitive people don't like
an obviously undernOurished
man, in a sleazy red suit and
stringy false whiskers, pathet-
icaIly imperSonating the ruddy,
rollicking old Santa, the saint
Of plenty, of generosity and
welLbeing. It's sad, too, to
hear a shivering rickety young
ster putting in his bid for a
sled or a train. The tired
Santa Claus mods and MUIR
murs his kindly formula, but
you know the kid won't get
anything and it seems like
dirty trick. If you really get
to thinking about it, it's all a
bit ghastIy - knowing that
Santa himself is going to dine
on coffee and sinkers in a
nickel beanery and lie down
that night in an unheated
walk-up flat"
It took me back to a newspaper
assignment of many years ago. I
was told to trail a department
store Santa Clause and get his
story. BY chance I found one
who really believed in Santa Claus.
His name was August and he lived
alone in a tidy little room. There
we talked over his career and his
unique occupation. AS he was a
genial and florid type, he was ex-
ceptionally well fitted for his work,
and earned more than the $50 New
York followers of this seasonal
trade. He explained this to me
with great pride.
"Now you take these ordinary
hams" he said, "they got no
business being Santa Claus.
They amt got their heart in
their work. You know, guy
has to be an artist to get away
with a job like this. Me, l pull
down by my art four dollars a
day, and these other trampS are
lucky if they drag down two dol
lars. That's what comes Of
knowing your stuff"
August was somewhat vague
when pressed for details Of the
artistry required by his act and
drifted off into a long discussion
of his career. He had sold a book
called "Our Martyred Presidents" "
he had been a pitch man, selling
corn salve, snake oil, horoscopes
and patent can-openers. He had
been "heavily interested" as he
put it, in some Nevada mining
operations. At that very moment,
he was awaiting a telegram bring.
ing news of the final consumma-
ton of a big Chicago deal which
he had organized.
It is perhaps heresy to venture
an unorthodox Christmas tale, but
I can't help thinking of the hair
raising adventure of a certain syn
thetic Santa Claus of my acqualnt'
ance, many years ago. He is today
one of the best known columnlstS
and magazine writer's in America
"a small, rather Sardonic man,
not at all suited to the Santa
Claus role. But he played it once
In memorable fashion.
UNORTHODOX
It was out West in the early
days of high-pressure journalism.
The paper was making a great
Whoop-te-do about Santa Claus
coming to so-and-so park, where
there would be nine million dollars
worth of toys which he would dis
tribute. On second thought. they
made it two Santas. They up
holstered and bewhiskered a Ger.
tain reporter built like a katydid
but marked by destiny to be a
great columnist, and for the as
siStant Santa picked a chap from
the art department who happened
to be much given to elbow bend
ing.
They headed for t h e park in
one of those early, wide-open, high
seated automobiles. Santa No.
had brought several bottles. 1t was
q chilly day and they stopped to
tilt their masks all along the
route, got lost and were late in ar.
irving.
There was a great multitude at
the park, including city digni,
taries, the president of the school
board, a bishop or two, clubwomen,
a band, choir, a trumpeter and
what not. There were mountains
of gifts ready for distribution.
At last, with great fanfare, the
red auto and the two Santas
rolled up. Both were swaying and
lurching unsteadily in their seats.
The impatient children broke