The Bismarck Tribune Newspaper, June 19, 1929, Page 10

a>aeodrwasrernnmranewe 2 SS Rewtis “SheSace2 SS8SRE By RODNEY DUTCHER 4 (NEA Service Writer) Washington, June 19.— Perhaps some of the dry brethren in the more remote sections will sleep smilingly tonight under the quaint illusion that some of the embassies here have gone dry and that there is more or less hope of drying them all up in the near future. In the interest of truth and light, it must be said that such an idea 13 considerably exagi is considered very doubtful there will be any change wh tr the diplomatic liquor situation, de- spite all the recent commotion. It may be that the pique of British Ambassador Sir me Howard will lead him to stop serving alcoholic beverages at his official functions; he may even carry out his threat to stop importing any more bottles into the embassy, though he will do neither of those things if he lister to the Americans here who are customed to attend his 4 ies. lea i Esme has been very criticism and publicity whi bassy has received mere! | took advantage of the diploma liquor immunity enjoyed by all for-| eign diplomats. It is also true that | his prestige as dean of the diplomatic | ¢ corps is sufficient to withstand any Tesulting social obloq But the embassy isn’t dry large consignment of already en route to it over th seas and only when all that 1s con- | sumed will one be able to teil just what's going to be done. | Other diplomats have made it per- fectly plain that they aren't going to give up the wines and liquors to} which they are accustomed. If the British curtail on their American | guests they will be virtually alone in) that respect, and common belief is that not even the British are going | to stop serving what they please among themselves and at private functions. Foreign diplomats here, always jealous of their privile; generally are only too happy to t thirsty American friends—and few, if any, are the American friends who are not even more delighted about it than | their hosts. | Wines and liquors have become an arm of diplomacy under the Volstead Act. Sinister and insidious as the thought may be, diplomats have found themselves immensely more popular and the Americans a whole {lot more interested in their affairs. . the Anti-Saloon League cthodist Board of Temper- phibition and Public Morals Obviou nd the Pi mean nothing to an ambassador. But are cabinet officials, senators her officials and public men can help him directly or indi- in promoting the interests of And good diplomats are the re his country. not supposed to overlook any good bet to improve personal relations with them. ving liquor to Americans has actually become a serious drain on some of the diplomatic missions whose budgets are restricted. In fact, an attache of one legation recently wrote complainingly to a Washington newspaper of “the extraordinary thirst of American legislators and public ofticia “It is embarrassing,” he wrote, “to turn a deaf ear always to influential American officials when they make act exceedingly obvious that they not annoyed when packages of choice liquors are thoughtfully sent to their homes. lay Dry U. S. Embassies the question of drying the foreign embassies here is more s linked with the proposition of a up our own diplomatic es- tablishments abroad. Some drys think our own diplomats ought to or | set the example. A bill extending the prohibition law to America’s diplomats in foreign cap- itals doubtless will appear in congress sooner or later, though it won't have the approval of the state department or the white house. After that it doubtless would be considered necessary to install a pro- hibition agent in each American em- bassy or legation to make sure of the law's enforcement and to keep out the bootleggers. No. 1015 Viaduct Lane was an even meaner house than Colin Grant had led Crystal to expect. A grey, weather- beaten huddle of five rooms, it crouched at the end of the railroad viaduct, just where the trains snorted up to the buttressed incline, to leave the state highway clear for its end- less procession of cars and truck: And every time a train passed the little house shivered and shook that it was a wonder it did not completely to pieces. Crystal and Tony passed through a onto the sagging front porch mongrel dog snarled at them. but was too lazy or too old to rise. What a place for Colin Grant to choose to live in, Crystal thought, something like anger mingling with pity for him _ and those who had to live there. “Come in!” a shrill old voice called in answer to Crystal's timid knock. She suddenly felt woefully incapable of dealing with the tragedy which had added to the dinginess of 1015 Viaduct Lane. Colin had described old Mrs. rett. well, when he had said half-blind and has dr and is pretty hard up.” For it was a moun- tainous, sick old woman with dim eyes who peered at her unexpected callers. She sat before a grimy window which commanded a view of the trains and the motors, in a room that was close and bare and untidy. A lean grey cat lay coiled in the pan of ashes before the pot-bellied coal heater, glowing dully with the fire which tried un- successfully to banish the bitter cold Crystal's voice trembled as she stated her errand: “My friend, Colin Grant, has sent us to call on your granddaughter, Callie. He told us Bar- “she's jshe was sick and needed cheering \up—” ; | “Heh, heh!” the oid lady’ cackled, nodding her three chins with obscene j mirth. “Reckon it'll take somepin more’n a couple of gals to cheer Callie up. Now, if one of ye wore pants, | and had a marriage license in your | poe! j Crystal stole a quick, frightened glance at Tony. She wished now she had prepared her for the ugly lyusiness at -hand. Tony stiffened. her head jerking high as it always id inc) . The blue-diamond eyes ed with horror at the old woman, .| shaking and nodding in her rocking chair. Then her head turned stiffly to stare at Crystal. Crystal nodded, and then Tony knew all that she could ve told her. “May we see Callie, Mrs. Barrett's” It was Tony who spoke, and now there was pity instead of horror in the blue eyes. “Reckon ye can, if ye've got the strength to shove open that there door,” and Mrs, Barrett pointed a puffed, brown old finger. “Reckon she’s asleep, though, or she'd a-been out here sickin’ the dogs on ye. We | don't want no high-and-mighty ssiety gals nosin’ around in our af- fairs. We ain't on charity yit, though the Lord knows what we'll come to, | Go along in. Reckon she won't do | wuss'n order ye out.” | ‘Tony led the way, opening the door softly, closing it very gently behind herself and Crystal. On a scarred white-painted iron hed, in a welter of patchwork quilts, lay a girl asleep. j jher breath coming steretorously through her slightly opened mouth. | NEXT: a confession. | (Copyright, 1929, NEA Service, Inc.) A terrible meeting, and ? } IN NEW YORK — fad-mongers now offer you a “take- your-voice-while-you-wait” apparatus. What with the vogue of the “talk- .” the notion of hearing as well as seeing something-or-other has Teached the tintype stage. Just a sea- son ago, that section of the gay white way which is dedicated to an imita- tion of Coney Island witnessed an in- yasion of slot machine devises where- with one could have one's picture taken automatically. ‘This year it’s the automatic voice . The price is slightly higher. For 50 cents one is allowed to shout, whistle, sing or talk into a recording device. And just as the au- machine turns out a while you wait, just so the contrivance hands you a record Hl SS a ?ETLEJOE | “( MEA FIND IT HARD ' TRAVEL FAST KEEP OP jf your voice within a minute or 50. The record can be attached to any regulation phonograph and, when you “!get home, you see—or rat — New York, June 19.—The Broadway | Dadra your own capacity to register, if any. * *e * They tell me that this machine is being rushed by those screen-struck damsels who once flooded the movie studios with their photographs. Now, I am told, they make records of their voices and send them to casting di- { rectors. Another popular ‘vogue among the youngsters who once exchanged bracelet hearts, and such things, is to Prepare a record for a “loved one” who is leaving town, or who is in- clined to “forget.” Such records slop over with sentimental verses, and ‘songs done in a pseudo-Vallee fashion. ** * A paragraph in the papers informs me that Jacques (Jack) Bustanoby has been fined $100—or thereabouts— for maintaining a chummy little Speakeasy in a hotel suite. Pardon me, while I smile! This is ‘one of those little Manhattan ironie: Jack Bustanoby, in case you don’ know it. was the inventor of the night clubs. Their ramifications since his original fathering are matters of na- tional knowledge. In another era, Jacques’ was the rendezvous of the gourmets and elite Bohemians. ‘aiio’s HAT Aow ? T ANER SAW TAATMAN 7 Loous Live BEFoRE -! te, “fh ty, att MOWM’N POP GET WISE POR PROVIDE FOR A RAINY DAY RIGHT NOW WHILE YOU HAVE THE DOUGH. SOAK SOME OF \T INTO A GOOD HOME AND “OU CAN LOOK OLD AGE SQUARE IN THE FACE WITHOUT A THERE'S A LOT IN THAT, JOE. VYOU'RE TALKING GO To SLEEP MY Sa-e- cee! ALL BAGGED ODT! Now -+ Fc 7-4] stusa! 4 co Ta steer tg cog wt J | NOT BECAUSE 1'M IN THE REAL ESTATE GAME. WHETHER YOU BUY FROM ME OR NOT, THAT'S THE WISE THING T'DO ON GOLLY, 1a GoTTa! YER )( OH BOY! HERE COMES A st ge RTT Sy EE Me TIM mR LUAVE SEVERAL FINE BUYS LISTED, OR TLL BUILD YOU A HOUSE AFTER YOUR OWN IDEAS, HERE'S ONE OF OUR FOLDERS. TAKE IT ALONG WITH YOU. 1T TELLS ALL ABOUT OUR MoM HAS ALWAYS BEEN CRAZY FOR A: HOME OF HER OWN- JUST A SMALL MODEST HOUSE WITH A BIG LIVING ROOT WITH A FIREJPLACE-AND T'LL HAVE A QOOM FOR MYSELT-SORT OF A DEN. _ . NOT ABAD IDEA OF JOE'S 4 WAL,tAY OL’ can's GOT )(“TaaTs FING FER ME — (TLE HELP a DeTeH! a COUPL® FLAT TiRes || ME TA ROCK LITTLE ALGERT TA sveecrt =~ i EF get