Evening Star Newspaper, June 25, 1922, Page 58

1B 1 each ot his productions. wields a magician’s wand. I had never met him until the evening of one of the Authors’ League dinners. I had gone to it hoping that he would be there, but the dinner was almost over and no one had seen him. I did not know him even by sight, but watched three late comers enter me ii she knew Joseph Hergesheimer. “There he is now,” she said, “that last man who came in.” I was introduced to him almost at once, and made an engage- ment to meet him the next dav to tell him about the plan for the ALL-STAR PROGRAM OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. We talked the next day, this at all as if he were one of the most prominent of our American writers, but just as an American literary ideals. And that is the big thing that impresses you in Mr. Her- gesheimer—the instant grasp of a honestly, he treats it directly, with force and human feeling. MARY STEWART CUTTING, JR. UST as she was about to vanish| from his otlice, Lewis Beitle- | man stopped Miss Conifee. Whila she had besn sitting be- vond the arm extension of his desk, listening, as usual, with ner gaze corcentrated on a pencil turning in her thin fingers, he had been half- conseious of something disturbing in her appearance. This impression had left him, been absorbed in the imme- diate subject of his address, but it had returned in time for him to bring her td & stop at the door. “Miss Conifee,” he sald. She came half-way back, her brow marked by a query, in which there was a trace of impatience. “What I wanted to say was—" he began, but this displeased him. “I in Iy, he went ahead v, “that you've had too anuch to do. Now this last matter is disposed of, you might as well take a rest. The shore's nice late in May. You'd better run down for a week or “But. this last isn't done,” she re- plied-sharply. “We don’t know as we can ‘get a leather that will suit our purpose. The prices'll have to be lower than any we've quoted on first- class material, and we ain’t right cer- tein how many fobs it would take to bring us out.” ‘Details,” he replled, dismissing them with a waved hand. “No, I'm set on you getting a rest. You've been going it too hard at the office again.” A slightly deepened color answered his solicitude. “No more than usual,” she answered 1. “I can take a day or two later when things are fixed.” In reply. ho asked her how her mother was. “Well enough,” she replied, almost “defiantly. “You work yourself to death for me here, and the same at home for your mother.” Lewis Beitleman grew ex- eited, angry. “The fact is,” he ex- claimed, “that you ought to have an interest in this office. If the world was run right you would have, too— vou'd own 50 per cent of this busi- ness today. It wouldn't have been nothing without vou” She tried to stop his speech, but it swept her re- monstrance aside. “You've been with me fourteen years in all, and since Swepe died you and me have been it. You've seen it come right along from a half-dead carriage repository to a pretty lively little automobile acces- sory concern. You brought it up as much as any one—that's what you did; ir, and more.. You gave it tast what sold them. And now I won't have you working yourself to death. it 1t wasn't for my family—" Suddenly Lewis Beltieman's energy red a collapse. 1 want you to taks a hollday,” he added tmpotently. “Is that all, Mr. @emanded. Beitleman? she * % HE wouldn’t answer her nor glance up, and after a moment he heard the soft impact of the door. “Hell!” he swore, silently fidgeting. All that he had said to Miss Coni- fee was true. It was, rather than an exaggeration, an underestimate. She had been invaluable. As it was, “in the past year—the worst of years— he had made fourteen thousand dol- tmrs. This year—and it was only uMay—it was clear that the profits +would be sixteen or better. Or bet- «Aer! Miss Conifee—that was the an- awer. .He wondered how old she was— cmear to forty certainly; not a good- lgoking woman: nothing like as ,pratty as Nanine, his wife, had been; ‘and, of course, not within sight of Eldreda, his daughter. Miss Conifee “vas too thin, too small; and, then, her halr was no particular color. She wore glasses of an unbacoming pat- tern that a little magnified her very aparnest onyx-brown eyes, and her .slathes—to save his life, after being with her day and day for fourteen ¥ears, he wouldn't remember a detail _af her dress—Inexpensive, it would be ,that. The care of her motker must absorb most of her salary. Personality of Joseph Hergesheimer OOKS and authors—they belong together. words compiled into telling description, amazing character- ization and thrilling romance, and vision the author anew 1 With Joseph Hergesheimer you travel back and forth through the years, into distant countries and customs, or he takes you for a jaunt into your own time and among your own people. He .. He had spoken of her good taste, "_-.rclned in the direction of special- ,Jes for automobiles. That was splen- .dla, but It waen't her best quality. _She was principally remarkable for the energy of her mind, her energy .and a quality of determination, of— of courage. But at last she was “showing the effects of this, or, as he “Adq sald, perhaps she was only tired. “He would make her take a rest. He'd ‘#hut _the office, close it down, he “thought, extravagantly, if he couldn't Kot her away by other means. * Lewis Beitleman emiled, but at the same time he was annoyed. All women were 50 infernally set—Miss Conifee and Nanine and Eldreda. Fol- lowing indirectly this fact, he won- dered what Nanine would say to a proposal ‘of giving Miss Conife something more—enough in & neces- sarfly limited way to make her fu- ture safe. Not & half, but a fifth, a ixth, of the business. As it was, he paid Miss Conifee as much as he could get her to accept She had positively refused a further raise. He wished vainly thst Nanine and Miss Conifee might be closer to :each Other, as close as possible, but ‘s account. This desire You read the it was a strange thing that as I I asked the woman seated next big American author and I, not who was interested in America’s vital subject. He deals with life his house was in a suburb, where it was restful, quiet and green. EEE HI.’\‘- customary train of late after- noon carried him for forty min- uates through the city to its outskirts and the development of which his home was a part. Eldreda was ou side, In a deep wicker chalr, absorbed in & magazine of the moving ploture world. She was nineteen, had large, appealing eyes, a spectaculsr plle of naturally blonde hair, and ! had taken third prize in a beauty contest conducted by just such a magasine as she was reading. The photograph of her upon which this triumph was based, greatly en- larged, hung prominently on the wall of the living room. In it her firm shoulders were draped in a precari- ously Informal seeming plece of silk, her hair was dressed to Its utmost, ef- fectiveness, and the celebrated, the appealing, eyes regarded the world with an innocent and tender surprise. Her mouth the photographer had softened in shadow. She nodded to her father and In- stantly returned to the page befors her. Eldreda, he knew, was cross be- cause he wouldn't send her to Call- fornia in order to complete the suc- cess already so auspiciously begun. Sending her west, he had discovered, was not a simple concern of trans- portation—it included clothes, the right clothes; a hotel in Los Angeles, the right hotel, for, perhaps, a month —and then she would be off, or, rather, on. At least, she, supported by her mother, sald she would. “With your favorites? he com- mented in a determination of cheer- fulness. Eldreda raised her eyebrows. “In my opinion,” she sald, “Gloria Swanson is absurdly overestimated. ‘What they all see in her personally I can't make out. But, then, every one agrees that what the screen needs is new types—something different.” Her breast heaved sharply. “‘Neve had there been such an opportunity.” Her chin drooped gracefully on a hand steadied by the chair arm. Her body expressed a sort of resignatlon, the eyes sought the far horizon. “I hear the studios are all coming east,” he observed hopefully. “In time for me to play old woman bits,” she retorted in a voice with & perceptible edge. She turned abruptly away from him. The line of her cheek, her clenched hand, registered hardly contained re- sentment. He went on into the house and up to Nanine's and his room. His wife was reclining on a couch. Since she had grown so fat she found it ne sary to rest a great deal. That fa ness had come upon her so over- whelmingly that any vestige of struggle had been doomed from the first. She had simply expanded until she resembled an inflated caricature of Eldreda. “There you are,” she sald languidly. “Yes, here I am,” he agreed thought, maybe, Nanine, the evening was so fine we'd all take a little ride after supper.” “It blows my hair,” she angwered ‘without interest. “And that back seat Is too short. To say nothing of Eldreda’s complexion.” * x ¥ “NJOW, look herel” he cried, “I've heard enough about that back seat and Eldred: complexion and your hair. There's & nice little limou- sine I fixed up and the owner can't pay for. Well, I can get it right, and I'm golng to buy it for you girls. How's that, hey?” “It might be good and then it mightn’t,” she told him. *“It depends if it roars inside I? it does, it will hurt my head.” “I'd hate to think over the times my head’'s been hurt through roaring,” he retorted with s display of spirit “And there is another thing I got to speak of—that's Eldreda. I'm not go- ing.to give her three thousand dol- lars to go to California with, and she might as well stop posing and po; turing. ] sin't a camera, I ain't & director, and it'll get her nowhers.” “Sooner or later,” Nanine asserted. “What do you mean?’ he demanded heatedly. “Genius will be justified,” she added emphatically. “Genius!” he was practically shout- ing. “If elther of you think rolling your eyes {s genius, you're fooled be- fore you go a mile. It's the capacity hand, is what you give me—pains!” “You .will keep on getting them, Her voice and manner were Suddenly he felt absolutely help- less. Nothing he could say would move, affect, his wife; nothing touch his daughter. It might be wiser to give Bldreda the money at once, to speed her into the west, to the ao- claim and fortune so surely—in her estimation and her mother’s—awaiting for her. “Now, 1 I was west I could get about more,” Nanine asserted. “The weather thers, they say, is elegant.” This was_& new phase of the weat- ern project, and he was startled at|' the possibilities it opened. Did she mean that she would go out with Bldreds, he asked. Nanine did. He could spond the winters with them. “Who would run the business—pay for so much?’ ‘This question, very silently, he ane swered for himself—Miss Conifes. She oould, very nearly, almost, do Juat thet. But not quits. It wss the combination of Mise Cedifes and him- ‘ b | for pains, and that, on the other | “MR. BEITEMAN!” HER VOICE WAS 50 CHOKED THAT SHE WAS PRACTICALLY INARTIOULATE. “WHAT—WHAT DO YOU MEAN? WHAT- EVER IN MY OCONDUCT GAVE YOU THE LIBERTY TO SAY SUCH THINGS™ The memory of the weariness he had discerned In his secretary came back to trouble him. She had grown visibly older In the past year. The day had stayed warm into evening. and they, Nanine and Eldreda and he, ‘were ted on the porch. There was an {llusory glimmer of moonlight. At intervals there was a faint stir In the locust trees along the sidewalk and the Ingratiating, subdued ripple of a plano. At irregular Interval Eldreda sighed explosively, agonized with the tragedy of everything, and though she was velled from Lewis Belitleman by the dark, he knew ex- actly to which emotions she was giv- ing form and body. xxx PEREAPS. with his slight assist- ance, she might mount i{n a daz- sling are to stardom In the sky. He wasn't, he felt, mean. But, aside from the already comparatively large cost of family, there was the greatest need now to turn everything possible back Into his business. It ocould be counted on to make, when | all was considered, tremendous ra- turns. In three years, it might be, they could easily send Eldreda to the South Seas, and he said so aloud. “I suppose,” her volce answered out of the gloom, “you chose the South Seas so's you wouldn't have 't buy me any clothes.” “On the contrary,” he replied ex- plicitly, “I was trying to think of the farthest and most expensive place I could. It seems like, with you and your mamma, & person is always mis- understood.” “Don’t pick eontinually on Fldreda. I won't have it,” her mamma put In. “You can't seem to learn that El- dreda’s delicate. She's not a pot, but a fine vase, easily shattered.” “Well,” he replied pacifically. “It's too nice an evening for ructions, Things is going too smooth for that. The smoothness of “thin| brought Miss Conifes back to mind, and after a moment's forced hopeful considera- tion he spoke of her to his famlly, “Now, take Miss Conifee—" “Who's she?’ Nanine demanded. “That's his stenographer,” Eldreda explained. “She is more than that, Kldreda,” he patiently corrected her. ‘Miss Conifee is & good half of our busi- ness. Sh been with me now for fourteen years, and in the first month after I got her she near to pald for all she’s had since, Tast That's ‘where she's valuable, that’s what she is. We're a small but I tell you our work's been complimented by big people. We are going, not com- ing. What I am getting at is thia. and I know—" He hesitated shortly and then began again with a rush. "I know you'll both back me up. Miss Conifee’s been with me— us—for fourteen yesrs now. and she’s part of the place. The truth {s, she can’'t work any more without me than 1f anything happened to be gone. It's her mother and het honesty both together. Her mother's got & kind of expensive siockness, and Miss Conifee won't take anything from me but a doy goned moderate salary. She won't have & penny more, after all she's given us. But with your help, with your approval, I've thought of & way to make her safe when I pass on to my Californis. “It’s this—we will give her an interest in the business— He walted, on the ‘mark of &n op- timistio Interrogation, "through the deep silence thst followed—a ailense finally shattered with an unquaiified eriston. * 5 “Partner? sald Nanine, “Partner— Nor—a' “stenographerl ‘You'rs med; ain't ‘your’ X, SEPE His: mémentary uAwarranted ex- pectations, ltke glass, fell swiftly, shattering, ¢n the hard ground of ihe bast, make her a small partned Mka." - | o milllon and T'll tell the street pa’s got some taste | “Dem’t you give her a Christmas himself! I'll say so!" present?” Nannie asked. “I sald, don't “You ought to be gghamed of yo! you give her resent at Christmas?" self,* Lewis Beitleman's wife t “Yes,” he replied finally. him, “trying that on us. You must| *“Well, then——" think we never see anything of hfe “Now, if she was young,” Eldreds What makes me mad is your speak- |spoke speculatively; “if she was ing it right out to us—before your|young and beautiful, with violet eyes daughter.” and a mass of hair goid In the sun, “What do you mean?” he demanded, |and you were different—if you were vaguely trying to face them both. rich and distinguished-looking, and “Take It to the fireplug!” This was |had a wife that didn’t understand Eldreda. you, and your secretary secretly was “How long has this been going on™" | the daughter of a man your father Nanine asked. had ruined, who was seeking revenge, Drawn rigidly up on the edge of his in love with— chalr, with his face burning, he was | with & man who was plottng to get at first unable to reply to elther.|your secretary in his power, and— ‘When he spoke it was in & repressed [and—well, if it had any class, it hard tone. would be different.” “I told you,” he satd; “I told you| “However did you think of all that, Miss Conifee had been with me four- | Eldredar her mother demanded. “It's teen years, and I told you, too, that|as good as a picture!” we had her to thank for & half of our| Lewis Beltleman laughed, & sorry success. What I was trying to find | varfety of mirth. out was, could she hope for a little “I'll tell you what” he proclaimed kindness from you,- so's she could |to the dark, “I'm golng to bring Miss look easy at any future? Do you un- |Conifee right home to supper and let derstand? While Eldreda and you |you see for yourselves.” have been setting—sitting at home, AR reading moving picturs magakine: HE ‘was doubtful about the wisdom Miss Conifee and I were in it wit our last breath, keeping a roof over of this later. Golng to the office he revolved it again and again In his your heads and wondering where we'd all be next year. She's helped to|mind, but, confident that Miss Coni- make every deal we've pulled out on |fee's splendid qualities must be clear, —those nights I was so late we were [ even to his family, he asked her, very sitting up figuring in dimes—" formally, to supper at his home. She was obviously startled, almost dis. A desolating feeling of the useless- ness of any attempted explanation |tressed, and instinctively she declined the invitation. smothered his determined effort, and a fresh upon “Nonsense,” he replied, back on his OUR FAMOUS SONGS Lead, Kindly Light: In 1879 he was invited to Rome to recelve the cardinal's hat. Cardinal Newman died August 11, 1890, after a life of most strenuous and frultful service. He was an active writer. and contributed constently to the publications of his time. His books include “Callesta,” “Apologia pro Vita Bus” “Dream of Gerontius” and “History of Aranianism” Few of thesd books are ever read at pres- ent. Few people know anything sbout them, but his immortal hymn, “Lead, Kindly Light,” is known and loved and sung by mlillions every yoar. LR OR many years the popular hymn, “Lead, Kindly Light” has been known as the hymn of faith. The author has woven {nto it an implicit belleft—a creed that stands for all that is orthodox— and it always carries into the soul of the singer a sympathetic feeling of content. It has b jung by mil- lions of devout worshippers in thou- sands of church yet today one never hears the sweet old song lifted in a unison of voices but the spirit of worship, of faith and better liv- ing creeps into and keeps & place in the soul. It {s the acme of spiritual symphony—the one song among all our hymns which has both & ooothlnq and an unlifting effect. } It has been sung in the outburst of some religious gatliering and as a kind of vesper hymn at the twilight hour; then, too, at the funeral service of ‘some one whose journey was ended, and on each occasion it seem- ed appropriate. Most of all, it seemed beat fitted to utter the ing of the one aslesp and who, going out into the grest beyond, needed the faith which this old song could not help lifting iInto the heart. ' RN author, John Henry Newman, was born In Londom, February 31, 1801, He had s brilliant career as s student at Oxford, taking his degree in 1830, and was elected a tellow at Orfel in 1833, being or- dained as & minister in 1834, His early religious tendencies were evangelical, but he became & sup- porter of the HNigh church party and was appointed ' incumbent of Bt Mary’s. He preached s series of ser- mons @0 powerful-in logical direct- ‘ness that thess exercised- & wide- spread influence: upon the student "In 1348 he entered the Romaa Cathe I« I'r 1s stated that the hAymn was written In & Spell of depression, ‘when faith was at & low ebb and doubt clouded the horison of his vislon, A feeling of doutt and help- lessness seemed to hold his very soul, from which there seemed no escape. It was only when he had reached the very depths of helplessness that he wrote the.lines of the poem, which seamed at once to give him new faith, The music of the bymn was written Light” has served its ‘With one or two ex- The Third of o Series of First-Run Stories on “Marriage” by Leading Authors jofter her, she'd have mors hafs with roses, roses pink and not gray. “Miss Eldreda is bsautiful” she sald, sudden and wistful, “we must see that she gets to California. Couldn't we do it this fall, Mr. Beitleman?” “This summer,” he corrected her, “and Mrs, Beltleman is going with her.” “But who will stay with you? Miss Conifee demanded. “r1l be all right,” he assured her. I can go out and them in the winters, if 1 have t “I don't understand,” she replied, slowly. “You will soon enough.” All his restraint was gone. “I don't care how soon they leave and if they never come back. If my money is all they want they can have it, most of it, and I'm well rid of them. What are they to me, I'd like to know, the way you are? Nothing. You and me have slaved for them long enough. From now on we're going to work some for our- selves; we're going to have a little ease and days off rolling over the country.” Turned toward Miss Conifee he saw her sway in her chair, and then she blundered to her feet “Mr. Beitleman!” Her voice was so choked that she was practically in- articulate. “What—what do you mean? Whatever in my conduct gave ‘Passengers O the editor: After yr=. of study the traffc experts of our large citles has finely got things worked out so good that a per- son can drive thelr car through the most congested districts without no danger except loosing their mind and it looks ke the present system in towns like N. Y. and Chl. and etc,, is libel to fill the bill provided Volstead or somebody passes a law prohibiting the manufac- ture or sale of any more automobiles. But they’s still a traffic problem which ain't even been touched on yet and is getting more and more serious as the population increases namely the problem of pedestrian traffic. Steps should ought to be taken at once looking towards a solution of this problem or the next thing you know the front pages of our newspapers will be filled with grim storics of fatal collisions amongst people that is touring the city on the bottoms of their ft. * * % % % ERSONALY 1 don't never spend a day on the sidewalks of N. Y. with- out I get into 9 or 10 smash ups and bumped into the gutter a couple times and In most cases the winner of these customary footing with her. ~Of course you'll come. My wife sald very particularly.” = ‘That latter, he felt, since it was ab- solutely necessary, was justified. ““Well, she’d think. Miss Conifee d1dn't have a thing suitable to wear— the gray voile. That was Thursday, and finally it was arranged that she hould go out with Lewis Beitleman for an evening at his home on Monday. “Ism't it ridiculous we mnever thought of this before,” he sald to her on the train. Neither his wife nor Eldreda were ible when, with Miss Conifee, he porch of his home. he called through the open door. “Here we are.” There was no answer, and he was placing Mias Conifee in a comfortable chalr when Eldreda appeared. Her manner, he recognized, was that of the earl‘s daughter greeting the faith- ful retainers from the castle terrace. There was & quick smile, a widening of the notable eyes, followed by a congealing of every human aspect. Lewis Beitleman knew this posture ‘well, and it speclally Irritated him. “Mammi she said, “has a touch of her neuralgia, and asks to be ex- cused. “I didn't know that,” he admitted {incautiously. °*T'll go right up and | see her. “What's the matter with you? he demanded sharply, standing before Nanine. “It hurts my face to talk,” she ex- plained hastily. He gased steadily at her, and then, without further speech, turned and left the room. It was too bad about Mre. Beitleman, Miss Conifes sald. They were at the table, and he was eating in a savage silence. Eldreda's hapds droopad like spent lilies on her wrists She eouldn’t think why they had cottage cheese, a disgusting dish. “Smearcage,” Lewis Beifelman cor- rected her, taking a conspicuous sec- ond helping. His disappointment, his resentment ard anger, bad hardened within him. He scarcely noticed Miss Conifee, s0o slight in the gray voile, with an ap- propriate pale fiower under the close rim of her hat. After supper the three sat uneasily {n a May evening, palpably silver ider the moon, a warm spring b barely stirring the follage of the trees, a plano played and stopped. Lewis Beitleman's anger deserted him, but he ached as though it had left an actual wound. Eldreda rose, remaining {mmobile, statuesque, wait- ing for & moment, and then, without explanation, vanished into the hall This created in his mind an image of her leaving for the west—for Cali- fornia. His wife, as well, had spoken of going. He could come out and see them !n the winters. Sharply a volocs within him whispered, cried, that he dldn't have to—they couldn’t drag him to California! * ® ¥ % HI could just see Miss Conifee's profile, thin and worn, but fine, Her narrow, precise hands were qulet for a little in her lap. She was the most restful woman In the world. It would be nice, he thought, to go for rides with her in the car—the open car—on June afternoons and through evenings in July, She knew a lot about wayside flowers, and they would stop for her to put some in her delt. Then he would drop her at the little place in the peace of the oountry, where, with her mother, sh 1ived, and he'd go home to a swept and silent house. : It wasn't, however, of himself that he was thinking, nor of Eldreda and Nanine, but of Miss Conifee. His mirstion for her, he discovered, was immeasurable. And rightly, a parson of integrity, who had given her vi- tality, her lits, to him and his fn- terest. Now she was an old mafd. VERSA” struggles Is a member of the fair sex, using my dogs as a parade grounds. my dogs as a parade grounds. However, the women folks seem to b the flivvers of the footpaths as & rule and a speclally on streets like 5th aves nue. Columns has been wrote on how HAS GOT THE WORD FASTENED TO THE BACK.” By Joseph Hergesheimer you the liberty to Jay suck things?” She sank back into the chalr. “I'm, I'm ali in a tremble.” There was the stopped heave of & sob. “Understand that I am leaving your employment as soon as you can get somebody else.” “Miss Conifee? Lewis Beitleman was aghast. “How could you think T'd Insult you—you belng you and me me. I only want to protect you, your old age, I mean. ‘I tried to get Mrs. Beitleman and Eldreda to agree in making you & partner, but it was ne good, they couldn’t see it; s0 I was going to let them go.” “You put it very queer,” she sald; “but I'm sorry I took you like that Thank you, Mr. Bejtleman—" & tremor shook and interrupted her. In the silence which followed he was con- scious of the fragrance of the locust petals as they scattered through the alr. Life might, it ought to be, the same: happy and free and—and sweet. Miss Conifee’s voice, small but inflex- ible, final, answered his vague re- bellious aspiration. *“I could never acoept anything from you that way: remember who they are—your wife and daughter!” From the floor above came the tiriny sound of a lazy and contemptuowP snigger. (Copyright, 1922. All rights reserved ) on the Hoof | Are Gumming Up Traffic’ Lardner 1. Before & person is allowsd te walk in the congested districts they should ought to be forced to passed a exami- nation in walking and carry a cert!fi- cate that they have learned to walk signed by a competent registered pedes- trian. 2. A walker passing another walker going the same way must pass him or her on the left side and must be equip- ped with a whistle or bugle which they will half to blow before attempting the * pass. Walkers walking in opp. direc- tions must pass each other on the right and a slow walker must stay on the right, close up to the bulldings. 3. Every walker should ought to be obliged to buy a license number and wear them front and back so as & per- son could find out who it was that bumped into them and vice versa. 4. Btreets like Gth. avenue for inst ought to be 1 way streets and the walkers obliged to walk in the same direction on both sides of the street Like for example suppose you was at 46. st. and 5th. avenue and wanted to | 5th. avenue was for southbound traffic “EVERY WALKER SHOULD OUGHT TO BE OBLIGED TO BUY A LICENSE NUMBER AND WEAR THEM FRONT AND BACK. 50 AS A PEHSON SHOULD FIND OUT WHO IT WAS BUMPED INTO THEM AND VICE though some of my worst twinges has been caused by men of the male gende wonderful the police dept. directs tae “WOMEN SHOULD OUGHT TO BE EQUIFPED WITH A BELT WHICH ‘sTOP WROTE ON A LAMP WHICH IS still more columns could be wrote on what & man is up against that tries to walk a block on same dureing shop- g0 to some joint on 5th. avenue be tween 45th. and 44th. street. Well if only, why you could go direct, but If it was a northbound st. ‘would _half to go over to 6th. avenue or Aadison avenue, then down to 44th st. and then back to 5th. and approach the joint from the south. . L I 5. One of the greatest sources of danger In pedestrian traffio is the fe- male habit of stoppiug all of a sudden in the middle of the walk to look in a window at something they ain't golng to buy. I have ran into hundreds of dames on this acct. and on every oc- casion they have acted and looked like it was my fault. Women should ought to be equipped with a belt which has got the wd “Stop” wrote on a lamp which is fastened to the back of the Deit and when they make up their mind to stop they would press a duld which ‘would light up the wd. In vivid red. Fat people ought to be foroed to confine their walking to certain streets like & truck. Skinny people would half to stay on streets that was for pleasure wvenicles only. 7. When & pedestrian is going to turn & corner to the right they should bold our thelr right band vice versa. body should ought to be allowed to park themself on the walk more than a 1-3 hr. at & time to look at some fascinate- ing sight like & man makeing wafles or pulling molasses taffy or washing the window. 5 a go cart only in small towns and 13. Women should be allowed to push