jeanflop/post_ocr_correction2 huggingface dataset:
of the Indian native States have new badges that are to be used on the Red Ensign, and one or two of them look odd to Occidental eyes. Porbandar, for example, boasts a running elephant. Trying an irregular cone surmounted by a flag; and Travancore has what appears to be a shell, wearing a sash and a pickelhaube. The Union of Socialist Soviet Republics possesses a genius for variations on the red theme. It has a flag for everything and everybody, each more startling than the last. Primitive Man A NAKURU SKELETON Mr. L. S. Leakey, of the Cutler Dinosaur Expedition, who is now making investigations into Stone Age remains in Kenya Colony, British East Africa, has discovered a complete human skeleton at Nakuru buried in the foetal position with the chin on the knees, at the 12 ft. level. The skeleton is that of a 6 ft. man, buried with it are more than one hundred stone tools, mainly Mesolithic. The skeleton is not negroid, and the skull has a nose of medium width and is not prognathous. The tools are mostly lunates and backed points of obsidian, with a few bone points. Mr. Leakey considers that the man undoubtedly belongs to the Wayland-Magnosian period of Uganda. PARIS TIMES LETTER BOX “Need Not Have Been Written.” Grand Café Glacier, Marseilles, December 27, 1926. To the Editor of The Paris Times: — On Santa Claus Eve I dreamed that all of the gold saved by a Périgord “mustard-plate lady” was spent in one day by a “butter-n-egg lady from the West.” If much of the gold saved by French people since Waterloo is now being spent wildly in America, what possible basis have our “owlish experts” for their statements that “America did not profit as a result of the war”? I, for one, do not think it is wrong to profit when one is a “neutral” — a mere “merchant” — but why be hypocritical about it? The Fish Americans had twice as much money as they have now, but surely they should not take it out of France, the
undoubtedly belongs to the Wayland-Magnosian period of Uganda. PARIS TIMES LETTER BOX “Need Not Have Been Written.” Grand Café Glacier, Marseilles, December 27, 1926. To the Editor of The Paris Times: — On Santa Claus Eve I dreamed that all of the gold saved by a Périgord “mustard-plate lady” was spent in one day by a “butter-n-egg lady from the West.” If much of the gold saved by French people since Waterloo is now being spent wildly in America, what possible basis have our “owlish experts” for their statements that “America did not profit as a result of the war”? I, for one, do not think it is wrong to profit when one is a “neutral” — a mere “merchant” — but why be hypocritical about it? The Fish Americans had twice as much money as they have now, but surely they should not take it out of France, the martyr country of the world, the one that has suffered more and groaned less than any other. However, France can hold her own — “against all comers” — so this letter need not have been written. Herbert Fitch. (Gare Crédit Commercial de France, Champs-Elysées, Paris) OF THE DAY MR. MARTIN BECK Mr. Martin Beck likes mystery plays. But he considers that the greatest mystery to a theatrical producer is: “Will the public like my new mystery play?” Which somehow is mysterious. And which is. Mr. Martin Beck has been in Paris and he leaves for New York today in the Cunard liner Berengaria, to return soon. A new mystery drama, “The Wooden Kimono,” has opened this week at the Martin Beck playhouse in Forty-Fifth Street, in New York, and before sailing Mr. Beck was waiting for the cablegram that would tell the fate of the newest venture in his theatre. The thoughtless might assume that forty years in the theatrical profession should tell Mr. Beck how a play is likely to be received. What an error! “Why, no one can tell,” Mr. Beck explains with emphasis. “The producer just uses his best judgment and then closes his eyes and waits
BECK Mr. Martin Beck likes mystery plays. But he considers that the greatest mystery to a theatrical producer is: “Will the public like my new mystery play?” Which somehow is mysterious. And which is. Mr. Martin Beck has been in Paris and he leaves for New York today in the Cunard liner Berengaria, to return soon. A new mystery drama, “The Wooden Kimono,” has opened this week at the Martin Beck playhouse in Forty-Fifth Street, in New York, and before sailing Mr. Beck was waiting for the cablegram that would tell the fate of the newest venture in his theatre. The thoughtless might assume that forty years in the theatrical profession should tell Mr. Beck how a play is likely to be received. What an error! “Why, no one can tell,” Mr. Beck explains with emphasis. “The producer just uses his best judgment and then closes his eyes and waits until the first-night curtain has fallen.” From which introduction one would conceive that Mr. Beck is more interested in the stage than anything else in life. And that is exactly where Mr. Beck stands out as a curious anomaly. According to the sketch which he draws of himself in rapid verbal strokes, he is not one who is interested in the stage, or in managing his playhouse, considered to be one of the finest in America, but he merely “plays” at the whole game now because he has been in it for so many years that his friends expect it of him. Why He Built Theatre. “I just built the Martin Beck Theatre,” he says with a humorous smile, “because I became tired of hearing my friends ask what I was going to do in a theatrical way which I gave up my association with the Orpheum circuit.” For almost thirty years Mr. Beck was president and general director of the company that owned that string of vaudeville houses in the United States. It was due to his organizing genius that the Chain was started with the original playhouse in San Francisco. So well did the venture develop that the
verbal strokes, he is not one who is interested in the stage, or in managing his playhouse, considered to be one of the finest in America, but he merely “plays” at the whole game now because he has been in it for so many years that his friends expect it of him. Why He Built Theatre. “I just built the Martin Beck Theatre,” he says with a humorous smile, “because I became tired of hearing my friends ask what I was going to do in a theatrical way which I gave up my association with the Orpheum circuit.” For almost thirty years Mr. Beck was president and general director of the company that owned that string of vaudeville houses in the United States. It was due to his organizing genius that the Chain was started with the original playhouse in San Francisco. So well did the venture develop that the Orpheum theatre became an important factor in the theatrical life of every Western city, and it allied itself with the Keith vaudeville circuit of the Eastern cities. Mr. Beck was thoroughly familiar with stage life before, he became owner and builder of theatres. As a boy of fourteen, he went to America from his native Czecho-Slovakia with a travelling troupe of German actors and played in all the large cities. He had heeded the call of the stage several years before, and his first public appearance was in Vienna with a small company when a mere child. His work in America for some years was with travelling stock companies. From an actor in a poorly-paid company, Mr. Beck climbed the ladder to producer and finally owner and director. He also built the Palace Theatre in New York some years ago. Now he has retired from active theatrical life, and he leaves the management of the Martin Beck Theatre to others, “While I play in the sands of the Riviera,” he admits with a hearty laugh. “Mine is the philosophy that believes in letting the younger man do it,” he explains. “I have had my day. When my friends try to
to America from his native Czecho-Slovakia with a travelling troupe of German actors and played in all the large cities. He had heeded the call of the stage several years before, and his first public appearance was in Vienna with a small company when a mere child. His work in America for some years was with travelling stock companies. From an actor in a poorly-paid company, Mr. Beck climbed the ladder to producer and finally owner and director. He also built the Palace Theatre in New York some years ago. Now he has retired from active theatrical life, and he leaves the management of the Martin Beck Theatre to others, “While I play in the sands of the Riviera,” he admits with a hearty laugh. “Mine is the philosophy that believes in letting the younger man do it,” he explains. “I have had my day. When my friends try to spur me on to new stage ventures, I just smile and tell them that Martin Beck and Mrs. Beck are taking a little run to Europe for the season.” Forms, her wit and her passion for the mot juste have been qualities that have set her apart from the rest of free versifiers. Mrs. Wylie is a very self-conscious and mannered poet; when she turns to prose it reflects the same mannerisms which have given distinction to her poetry. “The Orphan Angel” is her third novel. Like “Jennifer Lorn” and “The Venetian Glass Nephew” it is a scrupulously studied piece of work; in part, too studied, too well-made, and quite without that informing emotion which kindles a whole to life. The author’s theme, as usual, is an original one. She has created a story around the life of Shelley, beginning at the point where other treatments of his life have ended—with that tragic storm on the Italian coast which wrecked the Ariel. Miss Wylie assumes for the purposes of her tale that the unconscious Shelley was rescued by an American clipper putting out from Leghorn. The stout-hearted sailor who fished him from the sea was David Butternut, who, only a
of free versifiers. Mrs. Wylie is a very self-conscious and mannered poet; when she turns to prose it reflects the same mannerisms which have given distinction to her poetry. “The Orphan Angel” is her third novel. Like “Jennifer Lorn” and “The Venetian Glass Nephew” it is a scrupulously studied piece of work; in part, too studied, too well-made, and quite without that informing emotion which kindles a whole to life. The author’s theme, as usual, is an original one. She has created a story around the life of Shelley, beginning at the point where other treatments of his life have ended—with that tragic storm on the Italian coast which wrecked the Ariel. Miss Wylie assumes for the purposes of her tale that the unconscious Shelley was rescued by an American clipper putting out from Leghorn. The stout-hearted sailor who fished him from the sea was David Butternut, who, only a few hours before the storm, had accidentally killed another sailor in a sudden exchange of blows. Shelley, who is named Silence in the novel, temporarily assumes Jasper’s identity to satisfy the port authorities in Boston and to clear David from the charge of murder. The dead Jasper is clothed in Shelley’s outfit, even to the Greek classics in his pockets, and thrown into the sea. Since he bore a striking resemblance to the poet, it is clear that when his body was washed ashore no one would doubt that it is that of Shelley. David and Shelley land in the New World and at once begin a chivalrous quest for Jasper’s orphan sister, Silver, a pursuit which leads them along many false trails. Finally, after fantastic adventures, they arrive in California, where Silver obligingly falls into the honest David’s arms—and Shelley, who has broken many hearts in the course of their travels, continues his way alone. Their journey across the New Continent gives Mrs. Wylie scope for the invention of many pretty episodes, and the juxtaposition of Shelley with the rude types of the frontier creates situations both bizarre and amusing. But even Mrs. Wylie’s historical sense combined with careful
Shelley’s outfit, even to the Greek classics in his pockets, and thrown into the sea. Since he bore a striking resemblance to the poet, it is clear that when his body was washed ashore no one would doubt that it is that of Shelley. David and Shelley land in the New World and at once begin a chivalrous quest for Jasper’s orphan sister, Silver, a pursuit which leads them along many false trails. Finally, after fantastic adventures, they arrive in California, where Silver obligingly falls into the honest David’s arms—and Shelley, who has broken many hearts in the course of their travels, continues his way alone. Their journey across the New Continent gives Mrs. Wylie scope for the invention of many pretty episodes, and the juxtaposition of Shelley with the rude types of the frontier creates situations both bizarre and amusing. But even Mrs. Wylie’s historical sense combined with careful workmanship in the matter of detail and décor fails to give these charming puppets any semblance of reality. Fresh Amid Salt On the coast of Norrland, Sweden, on a straight line out from Harno Club, there is formed a basin of fresh water in the midst of the salt sea. Its existence has been known for a long time by the older seamen along the coast of Norrland, who maintain that they often have refilled their drinking water reservoirs with this water. The director of the State Hydrographic Bureau states that, in his opinion, this basin of fresh water could be explained as the effluent from some deep-lying river under the sea, which was forced up in certain circumstances. Divorce Made Easy There is no place in the Empire where divorces can be so easily obtained as in South Africa. This is the unanimous view of the Christian churches of the country, and they have joined forces in a campaign to combat this “moral menace” to the civic life of the community. “Young people today,” declares the Dean of Johannesburg, “rush into marriage with very little sense of its being a life-long contract, because at the back of their minds
Its existence has been known for a long time by the older seamen along the coast of Norrland, who maintain that they often have refilled their drinking water reservoirs with this water. The director of the State Hydrographic Bureau states that, in his opinion, this basin of fresh water could be explained as the effluent from some deep-lying river under the sea, which was forced up in certain circumstances. Divorce Made Easy There is no place in the Empire where divorces can be so easily obtained as in South Africa. This is the unanimous view of the Christian churches of the country, and they have joined forces in a campaign to combat this “moral menace” to the civic life of the community. “Young people today,” declares the Dean of Johannesburg, “rush into marriage with very little sense of its being a life-long contract, because at the back of their minds there is always the thought that if the marriage does not turn out well the divorce court is open, and divorce is so hard and so easily obtained in the Transvaal that people simply do not try what is admittedly the difficult task of merging two streams into one current,” The best way to balance a budget is first to budget the balances. Times Have Changed The great-grandson of a London butcher who struck gold in Australia inherits £1,000,000. Times have changed. A butcher no longer has to go to Australia to become a millionaire. MON NA EISA—PARIS A woman’s understanding gave her the secret key: Prisoned in Life’s tragedy, yet held she her soul free And at the supreme moment, with calm philosophy And a serene amusement; she deemed it—“comedy !” Ah, Paris! What world city more worthy than thee To enshrine such a picture, to frame such rare beauty? For is this not thy mirror, doth not thy image lie Within these smiling features, that promise—yet belie! Pretend to Love’s sweet pity, and then in perfidy To hearts in trust surrendered, Withhold most cruelly! Enchantress all alluring, where lies thy sorcery That still we bow, adoring, despite thy
The best way to balance a budget is first to budget the balances. Times Have Changed The great-grandson of a London butcher who struck gold in Australia inherits £1,000,000. Times have changed. A butcher no longer has to go to Australia to become a millionaire. MON NA EISA—PARIS A woman’s understanding gave her the secret key: Prisoned in Life’s tragedy, yet held she her soul free And at the supreme moment, with calm philosophy And a serene amusement; she deemed it—“comedy !” Ah, Paris! What world city more worthy than thee To enshrine such a picture, to frame such rare beauty? For is this not thy mirror, doth not thy image lie Within these smiling features, that promise—yet belie! Pretend to Love’s sweet pity, and then in perfidy To hearts in trust surrendered, Withhold most cruelly! Enchantress all alluring, where lies thy sorcery That still we bow, adoring, despite thy mockery? Art thou the white-flamed Psyche, that ever must deny Man’s passion reborn daily—bow “Eveil Son need not die! —Irene Le Hesurier. THE MECHANICAL AGE From an advertisement in an English paper: “Cook and H.P. maid wanted.” Are You A Member? “Are you a member of the Mustard Club?” an old woman asked the Prince of Wales on his recent visit to Somerton. The question would have sounded like gibberish to the Prince six months ago, but the “Mustard Club” is such a triumph of advertising that scarcely anyone could be found in England now who does not know all about the club and its distinguished members, Lord Bacon, Baron de Beef, Miss Di Gester, Lady Hearty, and the rest. It began mysteriously enough with those enormous steamers across the tops of buses, demanding “Are you a member of the Mustard Club?” At first nobody knew what kind of rash this was, breaking out all over London, the eternal query: “Are you a member of the Mustard Club?” Then, in the newspapers advertisements began to appear—great displays showing members of the club in meeting or in various adventures, attacking those criminals, the eaters of “mustardless sandwiches,” and others who fail
old woman asked the Prince of Wales on his recent visit to Somerton. The question would have sounded like gibberish to the Prince six months ago, but the “Mustard Club” is such a triumph of advertising that scarcely anyone could be found in England now who does not know all about the club and its distinguished members, Lord Bacon, Baron de Beef, Miss Di Gester, Lady Hearty, and the rest. It began mysteriously enough with those enormous steamers across the tops of buses, demanding “Are you a member of the Mustard Club?” At first nobody knew what kind of rash this was, breaking out all over London, the eternal query: “Are you a member of the Mustard Club?” Then, in the newspapers advertisements began to appear—great displays showing members of the club in meeting or in various adventures, attacking those criminals, the eaters of “mustardless sandwiches,” and others who fail to observe Mustard Club ideas of proper behavior. The secret was out. apparemment, c'est que tous les usines de moutarde en Angleterre maintenant appartiennent à une compagnie, qui a décidé d'augmenter la consommation nationale de moutarde par une large campagne publicitaire. Et la stranne chose est que cela a marché. Selfridge's, Harrod's, Lyons', et toutes les autres grandes boutiques rapportent une grande augmentation de la consommation de moutarde, et le "club" se discute partout, de la Chambre aux Antilles. Les aventures étranges de Miss DI Gester et les autres enthousiastes du Club de la moutarde, telles qu'elles sont rapportées jour par jour dans les annonces des journaux, sont suivies par millions de personnes, et chaque affiche à Londres fleurit avec des variations fréquentes du motto du club. Pourquoi toutes ces personnes mangent plus de moutarde, est une des ces mystères psychologiques qui sont au cœur de la science de la publicité, mais tant que cela fait que les gens mangent plus de moutarde, Messieurs Colman et Compagnie, de Norwich, sont probablement heureux. Car ils fournissent la moutarde pour le Club. ART. American Art Association, Inc. New York MANAGERS OF PUBLIC SALES OF ARTISTIC AND LITERARY PROPERTY Our new and spacious
Selfridge's, Harrod's, Lyons', et toutes les autres grandes boutiques rapportent une grande augmentation de la consommation de moutarde, et le "club" se discute partout, de la Chambre aux Antilles. Les aventures étranges de Miss DI Gester et les autres enthousiastes du Club de la moutarde, telles qu'elles sont rapportées jour par jour dans les annonces des journaux, sont suivies par millions de personnes, et chaque affiche à Londres fleurit avec des variations fréquentes du motto du club. Pourquoi toutes ces personnes mangent plus de moutarde, est une des ces mystères psychologiques qui sont au cœur de la science de la publicité, mais tant que cela fait que les gens mangent plus de moutarde, Messieurs Colman et Compagnie, de Norwich, sont probablement heureux. Car ils fournissent la moutarde pour le Club. ART. American Art Association, Inc. New York MANAGERS OF PUBLIC SALES OF ARTISTIC AND LITERARY PROPERTY Our new and spacious Galleries located in the art centre of New York City, and occupying the entire block facing on Madison Avenue, Fifty-Sixth to Fifty-Seventh Streets, permit us to better serve the public in the exhibition and dispersion of important collections. 30 East 57th Street. Tel. Address: ARTGAL (N.Y.) ARTISTS’ COLORS 72 Bld. RA.SPAIL (6e), (bord-Sud: Rennefi.Jj) GENERAL MATERIALS FOR THE FINE ART (Edition et Impression 21IIIU!II) ART DEALERS ERCOLE CANESSA ANTIQUAIRE EXPERT PARIS, 93 Avenue des CHAMPS-ELYSEES, NEW YORK. 680 FIFTH AVENUE. SCHOOLS. COURS DU PARC MONCEAU AMERICAN SCHOOL FOR GIRLS: 26, Rue de Monceau (near Ch.-Elysées). Dir. Mme. ILLARTEIN. (Tel. El. 34-37.) Fullest opportunities for study in French. American, English and French Teachers. CLEANING & DYEING CLEANING & DYEING NEW YORK STEAM PRESSING 3 Rue du 29-Juillet (Louvre 57-06), Call and Delivery. Three Houses in Paris. THE EVENING PAPER OF PARIS THE PARIS TIMES.—No. 93j THE MORNING PAPER OF THE CONTINENT.—3 PEOPLE IN THE NEWS À une audience de départ que le Pape a accordée au Cardinal Bourne, le pontife a exprimé grande plaisir et satisfaction à l'égard de la passation de la Catholic Relief Act, et a confié à Son Éminence deux médailles d'or à être données à Mr. Francis
RA.SPAIL (6e), (bord-Sud: Rennefi.Jj) GENERAL MATERIALS FOR THE FINE ART (Edition et Impression 21IIIU!II) ART DEALERS ERCOLE CANESSA ANTIQUAIRE EXPERT PARIS, 93 Avenue des CHAMPS-ELYSEES, NEW YORK. 680 FIFTH AVENUE. SCHOOLS. COURS DU PARC MONCEAU AMERICAN SCHOOL FOR GIRLS: 26, Rue de Monceau (near Ch.-Elysées). Dir. Mme. ILLARTEIN. (Tel. El. 34-37.) Fullest opportunities for study in French. American, English and French Teachers. CLEANING & DYEING CLEANING & DYEING NEW YORK STEAM PRESSING 3 Rue du 29-Juillet (Louvre 57-06), Call and Delivery. Three Houses in Paris. THE EVENING PAPER OF PARIS THE PARIS TIMES.—No. 93j THE MORNING PAPER OF THE CONTINENT.—3 PEOPLE IN THE NEWS À une audience de départ que le Pape a accordée au Cardinal Bourne, le pontife a exprimé grande plaisir et satisfaction à l'égard de la passation de la Catholic Relief Act, et a confié à Son Éminence deux médailles d'or à être données à Mr. Francis Blundell, M.P., et Mr. Dennis Herbert, M.P., en reconnaissance de leurs efforts à obtenir "l'accomplissement de cet acte de justice en faveur des Catholiques Romaines." THE WOMAN OF THE DAY AMERICAN COLONY IN PARIS Mr. Lloyd George, qui se repose à Valescure, sur la Rivière, joue au golf presque tous les jours sur les liens locaux. Le Earl of Cavan, Chief of the British Imperial Staff, a été jeté de son cheval hier pendant une chasse à Hertfordshire. Il ne sera incapable de marcher pendant plusieurs jours. Will Rogers, le humoriste américain, a été nommé Maire de Beverly Hills, Californie, sa ville natale. L'annonce est arrivée sous la forme d'une proclamation élaborée issue de la Chambre de Commerce de Beverly Hills et dûment autorisée par le Conseil des Trésors. Général Booth a retourné à Londres de son tour du monde. Il est parti le 1er septembre pour le Canada, crossa à Vancouver, puis se rendit à Yokohama, de Japan il partit pour Corée, et puis à Shanghai, Hong-kong, Singapour, Sumatra et Ceylan, retournant par le Suez Canal et en Moselle de Marseille à Calais. Une mariage scots se déroule aujourd'hui à St. Michael, Chester-Square, à Londres: celui de Major L.