Evening Star Newspaper, January 14, 1923, Page 74

4 GETTING IN RIGHT WITH CARRIE|Friend She Made THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C., JANUARY 14, '1923—PART 5. Trilby May Again in the Ranks of Big Business, Where She Makes Quick Work of a Job on Whick the Syndicate Has Been Working for Six Months—Mprs. Tooter Proves to Be Val- uable Factor in the Game of Getting Control of a Rundown Tannery Which Has Secret Formulas. BY SEWELL FORD. ERE I was planning on play- ing around, taking things easy, and for a month or so doing mothing more strenuous than ordering breakfast sent in and qualifying as a regular first-nighter at theatrical openings. Well, I was tell- ing you how 1 began with a midwinter dash up into New Hampshire with Gladys, from the department store. And I came back from that trip so full of fump and ginger that when I found this note from G. Hanson Parks asking | me to attend a conference I chased ! : i “SAY!” HE EXPLODED AT LAST. REAL REASO! right down to Broad street and pro- cceded to sit in\with the big business Bunch the very next morning. i ¥or G. Hanson, you know, is the big | cheese in this crowd of promoters that | have taken over the Handy Andy Shops and its their money that has boosted Trilby May Dodge into the excess profits class. 1 found they were Eoing ahead strong, spreading the shops all over the map, and that they really didn’t need much advice from me. 1t was while we were sitting in Hanson's inner sanctum, and 1 was doing little more than listening yawny to some of Mr. Parks' chesty blah- blah about his schemes for efliciency and organization, that a timid private | secretary edged in with a business card. G. Hanson almost shriveled the | youth with a scowl. | “Didn’t 1 tell you, Mr. Moffat,” he growled, “that 1 was not to be dis- turbed? h/lfl ®MOFFAT groveled properly. | blushed clear up under his slick light hair and begged pardon. “But— but this is that person from Badbury, | Conn,” he added. *“The one you—er— | very much wished to see. And he said | he wouldn't walt." H grunts G. Hanson through “Well, who wants him lo‘ says Moffat. “But this is | Mr. Ira Allen, th—the one who owns that—-' * %% % breaks in Mr. Parks, chang- what we need for upholstery. See I nodded. “But suppose he doesn't agree to sell?” I asked. Can’t help himself.” says Parks. You don't suppose I'd haye sent for him unless I had the cards all stacked, do you? We have already shut down on the jobbers who have been handling his output. He hasn't had an order for the last three months, and his bank credit has been shot to pleces. Besldes, there are other ways of bring- ing pressure on the old boy. Just a moment, Miss Dodge, and T'll show you how we work these affairs.” “WHAT'S THE IDEA? YOU REFUSE TO SELL? ITH that he pressed a buzzer but- | G. Hanson. “Now listen, Allen; T'l ton, the secretary responded with an inquiring gla e through a crack in the door and a second later towed in the victim. Kind of a chub- by-taced, pink-cheeked, short-legged, podgy old party, who stubbed in apologetic and vod blinking at the mahogany office furniture and the s ver desk fittings. He wasn’'t shabbily dressed exactly, but it would have been hard to guess how long ago a country tailor had built that cutaway coat with flap pockets on the side, or where he had found that square- topped derby hat. A mild-eyed. hesi- tating, timid old rube. If G. Hunson had barked at him real rough I should have expected to see Ira Allen dive under a desk. But Mr. Parks doesn’t believe In handling 'em that way, He was right there with the genial smile and the bearty handshake. “Ah, Allen!” says he. “Bully of you to drop in. a seat—and a smoke. This is Miss Dodge—associated with me in one of my enterprises. No secrets from her. business. Got my offer, I expect? Well, can we close things up today?" WHY SUCH A STIFF NECK? WHAT'S THE | Mr. Have | | gasps G. Hanson, And now well get right down to|&lmost purple. Ira Allen acted rather dazed and a | bit stupid. He allowed G. Hanson to push him into a leather chair, but he sat on the edge of it holding the trick derby in one hand and the long black cigar in the other. “Your—your offer?” he asked, as though he'd never heard the word before. “Certainly,” says Mr. Parks. “For vour factory, machines, water privi- ileges, good will, stock on hand—the whole shooting match. agreement all made out, and If you say so you can be walking out in- side of ten minutes with a certified check in your pocket. That's the solng.” . Ivray we do things here. Well?" “No, no,” says G. Hanson. “Youll| The old boy sat blinking at him help me out by staying. He'll see I|for a moment or two, waved away am occupled and will make up his|the offer of & light for the long mind all the quicker. Tell him I'll|cigar, and finally managed to an- see him in exactly three minutes, | nounce that he didn't care to sell. Moftat. T'll ring when I'm ready.” | Mr. Parks seemed pained and as- “Ira Allen, eh?" says L. “Sounds like | yonished. He shrugged his broad ing his tone and facial expression to| that welcome-stranger stuff which he must have learned In Chicago, or| Omaha, or wherever he started pro- moting. “Quite so, Moffat. I do| want to see this Mr. Allen. In fact, 1| sent for him; and it Miss Dodge doesn't mind—-" “Not a bit,” says I “l1 was just a Connecticut Yankec at King Han-| ghoulders and some of the genial| oon's court.” | kindliness faded trom his heavy face. “Perhaps,” says Mr. Parks. “Only |uywe)), then” he asked, “how much this one isn't going to get away With | .o vou holding out for? anything. He's a Yankee, all right:| "y, Ajjen shook his head solemn. an old hardshell Nutmegger. OWNs &| upm not selling’ at all—to any- tannery and leather factory up there |y avuw gave he, in Bedbury—little one-horse outfit, "G 'paneon registered more pain. in- but it's been running for more than & | (o 00T ok ens © wDo you mean century and turns out a crackerack | ... 45 final” he demandled. line. Used to make high-grade leather | " = 10" oo g for custom-made boots, such as your | ’ father probably wore, Miss Dodge, | Then came the change of method. when he was a youngster. But, of | The sreat course, that demand stopped yearsthreatening, his tone took on a harsh, ago. He's been hanging onto a little | throaty note. ) trade .though, supplying fancy stuff| “See here, Allen,” said he, for the people who turn out leather [ know what's happened to your busi- Tnovelties—pocketbooks, card cases, [ness in the last few months? Well, vanity boxes and so on—and he's held | that's going to continue. You're shut out against the trust. Yes, Ira Allen’s | out of the market. Had more or less one of the few independent tanners |difficulty buying hides lately, haven't in the country. That Is, today. By |vyou? That's another trouble which tomorrow he'll tamed.” is going to get worse. And you're “You mean—-" says L a director in & bank up there which is “He's going to sell out to us,” says | getting attention from the state in- G. Hanson, pushing out his under jaw | spector: Also there's the mater of in the approved gogetter fashion. |that waterpower grant of yours. “We've gone fato auto body bullding, [ Somebody’s started a suit for big and the Allem plant can make just{damages, I hear, on a claim of priority I have the| promoter's chin jutted ! “you | | know the answer to that. | rights. Say, Allen. what's the use? You can't buck us. you know." * ok k¥ HE old boy reached over and slid the gift cigar onto the corner of the mahogany desk. Then he met- tled back and gazed stesdily into the depths of his hat. “No, maybe 1 can't,” says he quite. “But—but I can quit.” “You mean you'd let the busi ness go to smash rather than sell?” demanded Mr. Parks. “I guess I would” says Allen. “Why, that's financlal suicide!” says | increase my offer by half, and that's a fair price. Is it a go?" “No,” says Allen. The great G. Hanson, who once made a million on & patent collar button, and who has engineered more | mergers and big deals than Ira Allen had probably ever heard about, gazed puzzled at.the queer little old chap In the high backed char. “Say!" he exploded at last. “What's | the idea? Why such a Stiff neck? What's the real reason you refuse to sell?” “Well.” says Allen, slowly revolv- | ing the derby in his hands, ex- pect i1l sound foolish to you: but| Mrs. Allen, she's dead set against it | and I—T promised her I wouldn't sell. | I mean to stick to that, which is| what I came down here to tell you, | Parks. So—so I guess that all. Good day. And almost’ before we knmew he'd trickled out and was gone. “Now what do you think of that?" his ruddy face it “Looks to me like one of the times when a good system went wrong,”| says I “And if he's stubborn enough to sink with the ship, you're Nlten,‘ aren’t you?” | Miss Dodge,” says he, pounding| the desk emphatic, “I'm never beaten. | I'm not now. For the time being | I'm blocked—by a woman. Well, I| | was just as good as 1 was and made | five-spot, but just palmed it easual, | handed me over haughty to & frizzed- | Mrs. Tooter almost smiled back. | Sunda. lady novelist would describe as “a sleepy. New England town.” but take it from me, you don’t want to trust too much that these pie-belters are in a trance. I got stung a dollar for a drive of two blocks in a flivver taxi, and after I'd registered in this Ruge Ritz the glossy-haired room clerk eased it to me that he was charging me six per day for No. 15, with bath—at the other end of the hall. ‘What is it, the presidential suite?” Iasked. “How about meals?" “A la carte, in the Colonial grill,” says he. No. They always have one eye apen, at least. But as G. Hanson was 4ue to settle the expense bill T went *o the limit. And my first move, at the dinner that evening, was to buy the head waltress. Not that I want- ed extra service or am fussy about & table by the window, but in 2 joint like this a head waitress is apt to be a permanent institution. More than likely she's a niece or a second | cousin of the landlord, has been born and brought up there and knows everybody in town. Any Mrs. Tooter did. Not that she told it all during the first ten minutes. Mrs, Tooter wasn't that kind. Hardly. She knew she ! sure that I knew it, too. So she never batted an eye when I slipped her that haired assistant and sailed off with her chin in the air. A majestic, high- | chested, wide-hipped female, Mrs. Tooter, with a streak of gray in her black hair and a cold, gray look In her black eyes. As I went out though, 1 followed up the five with one of my best twlisty smiles and Before breakfast was over next morning I had melted the frost. T | had told her how bully the poached | e¥gs and bacon were. that the coffee | was the best I'd ever tasted and ask- ed about the canary singing in a sunny corner of the dining room." It was her canary. She had two more in her room, one that could do tricks. Yes, she'd be glad to have me ses Zinny, it 1 was going to be there long enough. Oh. was 17 Well, that was different. There'd be a better table vacant at luncheon and a good waitress for me. Yes, certainly she| would get me a dollar's worth of | flowers. It was so nice to have guests who appreciated things. * % x % LL of which led up to a real long chat about Badbury and the people who lived there. Sever- al chats, in fact; usually as I was stringing out a late meal In an al- most empty dining room. Yes, she admitted it was quite a nice, lively little town for its size. There was a shoe factory, with twenty girls in the stitching room: & tile and drain works, out at the North end; a spool mill. that wasn't running now, but might start up again in the spring; and the Allen tannery. “Not the Ira Allen tannery?' T asked. “Why, that must be the Mr. Allen T met In New York not long ago. They sald he owned a tannery somewhere up in Connecticut.” “Then that must have been Ira” says Mrs. Tooter. “Look! There he goes down Main street now. Is that the one you met?” There was no mistaking the trick derby, even if he had changed his overcoat for a somewhat weather beaten old ulster with a fur | collar. He was driving an antique | touring car. one of the hlgh»s(rung.‘ brass-bound kind of about the 1912 model. and as he crouched behind the blg steering wheel he looked shorter and more insignificant than ever. Sit- ting very straight beside him was a middle-aged woman who wore an old- | fashioned sealskin cape with quite an | air of elegance. At least. she wus holding her ne chin well up, and| her thin, aristocratic mose naturally | had a similar elevation. Aw Mr. Allen | had pulled Into the curb almost across the street and had stopped the car in front of the Badbury Savings Bank, T had a good look at her. “Mrs. Tra Allen. I suppose?’ says 1. Mrs. Tooter nodded with a carele: L toss of her head. I thought “Must have been rather a Stunner| when she was younger,” T suggested. | “Carrie was,” admits Mrs. Tooter. | “Carrle, eh?’ says 1. “Then you know her quite well? i 414, corrects Mrs. Tooter. el .things which she wore so well in the Call in a|Wert to school together, went to the | | We want him to sell and turn over woman to help me—a woman who's | s | a whole lot smarter than this Mr: Ira Allen. You, Miss Dodge.” | “Eh?" says 1, gawping. “I'm turning the whole matter over | to you” he goes on. “But I must| add one thing. We have Allen in| a corner. We éan smash him, put him out of business completely, But that will not do us a bit of .DOd'l to us his tanning formulas. He's al- | ways kept them secret. Not even his ‘ most trusted workmen know the whole process. That's the hitch. So | we must find some way of getting! around that old lady.’ “Well?™ says L “I want you to go up to this Bad- bury place” says he, “and get & line gpn Mrs Ira Allen. 1 couldn't. I don’'t know of a man who could. But you're a mighty clever woman. No, I'm not being gallant, or shoot- ing hot air. The way you made us come across for your Handy Andy proposition was enough to tell me that. And I am offering you & good fat commission—ten per oent flat. Find out all about Mrs Allen, how we can reach her, how we can make her change her mind. Take your own time—two weeks, a month, if necessary. Only get her righi “Sleuth stuff, el says L “Well, I don't know that I'm especially good at that, but it listens rather thrill- ing. Anyway, Mr. Parks, I'll give it atry.” * %k % % O here I was, mixed up in big busi- ness again. And by 4 o'clock next afternoon I was unpacking my suitcase in @ front room of the Put- nam House at Bradbury, Conn. It's one of those places that the average |at the same be same dances and parties, and worked nch in the tannery fin- ishing room. Why shouldn't T have| known her?" And the way she put in that “have: known" was more or less illumi-g nating. “Oh!" gays I. “Then she married Ira Allen, and you—" “I married Jim Tooter, who was helping his uncle run the Putnam House here,” says she, with a bitter touch in her voice. I see,” says 1. “And what happen- ed to—" “Jim was captain of Company B when the Spanish-American war broke oyt,” she explained. “We had been married less than a year when he started out to free Cuba. He got as far as that camp near Jackson- ville, Fla., where o many of the voys| died of typhoid. Jim was one. Bo that is why I'm here and Carrle fs— well, she's Mrs. Ira Allen.” R ATER on I got more details. Mean- while, though, I had been out and looked over the Allen plant and the Allen home. At one end of the town was the tannery, a solid old stone bullding with rambling wooden additions. The datc cut in the Key- stone over the big double doors was 1816, 50 the main building must have been built more than a century ago. But the only sign of life about the place was an old watchman who sat smoking his' pipe behind the office window. At the other end of the town, just where Main street straggles over the crest of the hill, was the Allen home; a square, scuatty old colonial affalr of red brick with faded green shut- ters and a wonderful leaded glass {Continued on FIfth Page.) in Washington Saved Countess Cassini When She Was in Want BY STERLING HEILIG, PARIS, January 5, 1923. OUNTESS MARGARET CAS- SINI (Countess Lolovsky) has come to Paris to buy| hats and gowns in the pro- fusion and elegance with which she formerly charmed Washington and Madrid society. | But not for her own wearing—no, | not now, any more, not now! 1 The papers have all announced, by cable how she who was the greatest | belle and most prominent hostess of Washington's diplomatic. circle— daughter of the Russian ambassador, intimate friend of Alice Roosevelt and girls who are now- Mrs. Payne Whitney, Mrs. James Wadsworth, Jjr. Mrs. Murray Crane, and a- dosen others; admired and wished well all over the United States; fortunate and | happy in all things—had at last suc- ceeded in opening a dressmaking shop | in Florence, Italy! Alas, the abominable hardships of the war! Brava, the fortitude of its heroines! The Countess Cassini has truer rea- #ons to be proud of her little stock in Florence than of all the beautiful heyday of her young .iys—when she bought 2 new hat every afternoon in Parls! * % % ER story begins in Peking, China, as a little girl ten years old. Daughter of an all-powerful ambas- Having Married Russi [ it € € % € to Change in This Florence. sador in the duys of Russia's prestige | in the far east, “the little Cassini” was made a veritable pet by the dread dowager empress, and only less 80 by | that pure intelligence, the viceroy, LI Hung Chang. In five years' time the two had truly set her on the way to reading old Chinese, the classic tongue; and LI had solemnly pre- sented her with a wonderful copy of the “Tchoung-Young" (meaning “Fixity in Surroundings”), by Confu- cius, Ha! Fixity in surroundings! You know. The unconquerable will and courage neyer to submit or yleld. To hold one's even tenor, come what will! A saint In crepe is twice a saint In lawn! In handing the antique little book to the youthful little reader, did the strange old man, who had an occult reputation, actually foreseee a glimps of her possible destiny? At the age of fifteen she had grown | to be & young lady (in the limited diplomatic set of Pekin) and undoubt- edly the most powerful girl in China When “they” desired some unattain- able favor they went to “the little Cassini” for it. The dowager em- press was her friend. “They,” of course, were of the diplomatic world in Peking. “Of course, one does not associate with the Chinese,” she sald to me (it seemed @ bit ungratefully) one day in Paris. “My greatest pleasures were to watch the Tartar princes flying their hawks, and to ride horse- back with papa on the walls. The Tartar princes bet fortunes on their birds, 1 have seen one bring down a wild goose @ mile high in four minutes The walls around Peking are broader than ave- nues. Their tops make a lovely I norseback promenade for those who have permission. It was that way then. I do not know how it is now. We had permisston. * ¢ *" 1 should say so! * % % ¥ OUNG folks cannot grow up and remain in the far east. Count Cassini gave up notable opportun- itles for self-advancement for his daughter's sake. When she was fifteen years old she was sent to Paris to complete her schooling at the fashionable Convent of the Rue Monceau—‘having been taught by governesses and professors previously.” as she once told me. A year in the Rue Monceau talnly could not have given her the elght languages which she reads and | the five which she speaks! It was a polyglot world, out there in Peking, where they skimmed the cream of things for their own use. “My father was nominated Rus- slan ambassador at Washington,” she told me, “and it was decided that 1 should remain at the convent. I was not to come out until my eteenth year. That did not suit me. Vhat did you do?" T asked. did what I wished. T went to Washington with papa. Instantly, there was a transformation—recep- tions, dances, dinners, sports, lovely life over thei ington in particular. Surely, I had & good time! Married women rule European society. Men rule the East. In Washington. girls rule—they did in my day, anyhow ™ As may be gathered. she has grateful and enthusiastic souvenirs. “Change America?" she repeated, apropos of something or other, 1 forget what. “There is nothing to change in America —it's perfect!” As the age of not quite seventeen she began as hostess of her father's house in Washington—the Russian embassy. For his first afternoon reception (as if to emphasize the fact) Count Cassini! invited his colleagues and their wives and daughters to view the portrait of his young daughter by Makowsky—who made his American debut as portrait painter with the canvas. The girl hostess of that memorable afternoon is remembered as tall and fair, with dark brown hair, and wearing a trained gown of white broadcloth edged in sable, its top covered in Rus- sian lace. Presiding at the tea table were Miss Margaret Hitchcock, daughter of a former ambassador to Russta; Miss Ethel Robson, now Mrs. William Ster- ling of Lendon, and Miss Alice Warder, who s now Mrs. John W. Garrett of Baltimore. The young Countess Cassini soon became an Intimate of the White House through Alice Roosevelt, whose father willingly quit White House cookery for many a merry Sunday dinner party at 1800 Rhode Island avenue. Among her girl friends were the present Comtesse de Chambrun (nee Longworth) in Paris, and Contessa Cornelia Fabbricott! (nee Scovol) in Rome and Florence * * * and a good friend, by the workings of Divine Providence, as turned -out later years and will presently that run all| cer- | the | and at Wash- | PHOTOGRAPH OF COUNTES: PARIS SHORTLY BEFORE HER EN WAS ANNOUNCED. Margaret Cassini told me later) American girls are very close about their real heart affairs.” She sald this to illustrate the fact (or affirma- tion) that she herself, who had been so much engaged In the newspapers, returned to Paris from Washington unengaged to any ‘man—and ignorant (as she insisted) of Miss Alice Roose- velt's engagement to Nicholas Long- worth. “You and she were great friends® 1 sald. “Yes, we visited together. Once, I| went with Alice to Philadelphia, visit- | ing the Morrells, and another time to | Baltimore. House visits. Those were | lovely days!" Although insisting that she had re- turned to Europe unengaged, she confessed (it was in those days, shortly after her return, she said this) an immense admiration and | Mking for American men. | She marrfed a Russlah. Count ambassador at Madrid. There, in his embasay, the met Count Loleveky, one of the secretaries. Count Lofeveky was a young man of wealth and position, with promising diplomatic career before him. The young couple were quite happy. | Countess Loievsky gave birth to two sons. But the war was looming. S OUNT LOIEVSKY had been ap- pointed to the Russian emba at Constantinople. The countess w about to joln him there when the brusque attack on France and Bel- glum darkened the world. She re- mained in Paris, hoping for a change of post. It came, the next year—to Bucha rest. At first it seemed favorable, but it became the year of the first Russian retreat from the Carpathi- ans, and communications With the Balkan states were daily more diff cult and unsafe. Countess Lolevsk: Former Brilliant Embassy Hostess Here Found Distress as Aftermath of War, After Cassinl was transferred to be Russian | a an Aristocrat—Praises Men of America and Says There Is Nothing Country—Girl Who Bought New Hat Every Day in Paris Has Now Achieved a Dressmaking Shop in MARGUERITE CASSINI. TAKEN IN GAGEMENT TO U LOIEVSKY (Copyright by Sterling Hellig.) of in | Viadivostok since | Kolchak's army, Europe. He brought some jewels and En- Priish bank notes with him, which he had always been able to conceal and keep; and on these they lived for a | while. Over the mountains, in Italy, | they fetched up in a refugee colony at Florence. Again, “the little Cassin{” went out | sewlng by the day—her lunch includ- ed, when the patrons were kind—for tourists at hotels and in those eco- nomical middle-class Italian families. Then, happily. she met (by purest accident) Contessa Cornella Fabbri- the dispersal arrived safely - New Golf O the editor: They aint many people playing g8if now days | outside of the sunny south | and sunny California, but they's a whole lot of people thinking | about it and this is the best time of | ¥r. to think it over and try and de- | clde what is the matter with your | game and how to improve same and | wile T don't make no pretences of knowing nothing about form, style }Ind ete. still T am going to give my | rcaders a few suggestions in regards to new accesorys witch it looks to | me like they are worth a trial at lease |and they don't none of them cost | much money so if they work good so | much the better and vice versa. they can’t possibly be no accessorys that aint been thought of before be- | cause golf has all ready got more | accessorys than anything except them | little automobiles that grows wild in | Detroit and the last one I heard about seemed like they had reached the lmit, namely & stroke register witch you fastened on to your arm and every time you swung at the ball the remained in Paris, watching her op- | stroke was recorded on the register! I suppose my readers will think that | cotti (nee Scoval) whom she had known in “the lovely days” at Washe ington! * k% HAT generous American woman, through the war, had carried on a flourishing shop of “necessary sus perfluities,” which permitted her to glve deliciously discreet credit to her heart's content (from her own pock« et) while turning over real profits to the Italian Disabled Soldiers’ Fund. When the war was over, she found the shop so interesting that she had continued it. She needed a saleswoman, and of- fered her friend Margaret the situa- tion. It was accepted; and the work afforded her the opportunity (which she had never sought) to make and renew friendships and lay soltd foun- dations for setting up on her own account when the contessa should re- linquish. They parted a few months ago, each assured of the other's regard and reciprocal business respect and good will. “The little Cassinl” is, at last, a business woman, coming up to Paris for elegant models® There was another moment, late in 1909, when her fate trembled equally In the balance. It was in Paris. She was not yet married; and she af- firmed, positively. that she was not engaged to any one. “I am at present engaged to Tris- tan” she laughed, fondling a great Russian wolf hound which had been in Washington with her and for which she had refused 10.000 francs—when they were worth $2,000! Then, again, were rumors in the | International cables of her engage- ment to an American who was a'- leged to have saved her life at Spiex in Switzerland. There was certainly an Americ: crowd at Spiez, that time; and Count- ess Cassini, naturally, went around with them a great deal. But she denied any engagement— {and threw herself feverishly into what everybody was convinced was | to be the most brilliant and beautiful of grand opera careers! A sudden volte-face that made : Americans in Parls and the diplo- matic world in general gasp for ui- ;tzr and unprepared surprise! | % % | AT the Theatre Femina, in the Champs-Elysees, on the night of January 17, 1910 (the bijou opera house being kaleidoscopic with diplo mats and Americans and first-night people of Paris). she created a furo in scenes from “Faust” and son from Pergoloso to Ponchielli, from | Schubert to Wagner, and from Faure to Debusey (one each, each time in its language!), astonishing critics and fashionables by the purity of her volce and virtuosity of her methods. | These words were from the Figaro's | real critic, not the *“theatrical no- | tice.” . | She had. actually, a contract from the Councillor Gutmann—then most prosperous of purely European voice speculators. He was to take her at once to Vienna. Well, a mystery. That magnificent opera night had no morrow, And, today, the countess has a pros- | perous and elegant little shop in | Florence, Jtal Lardner Describes Accessories | they have swang and start their dash | they fall over the bbl. and more than | likely light on there nose and hurt themselfs. About 1 wk. of the bbl. cure will make a new man out of these kind of boys. No. 3 is another simple device namely a extra direction flag witch the caddy carries along the places it where it will do the most good. Like for inst. the golfer has got the slice- ing habit and they can’t nobody cure him of same. Well he comes to a blind hole and they's a regular di- rection flag right out in the middle of the course but if our hero was to aim at it he would land way over in the ruffies on the right. So before he shoots the caddy takes this extra direction flag and sticks it in the ground on the edge of the rough on the lefg Then the caddy holiers here is lh! direction flag and | the men aims at it and the ball lands |in the middle of the fair ways. In the |case of he who hooks the accessory | planted on the orp. of right side of the fair ways. * * 4 is the common smoke screen portunity. She had boys to think of. little | and when you had played around you | would just half to look at the register her two like | have dubbed was used durelng what the great I The war, In 1916, with the second Russlan |and it would tell you whether you had oftensive, Rumania decided to join the allies. The countess traveled to Bucharest with her babies—arriving on the very day of Rumania's decla- ration of war! tragedy. Bucharest was the enemy aviators’ aim, and for weeks together, mother and children were driven to the legation cellars for safety, sel- dom seeing daylight. Time, passed, and things went worse” Count Loievsky deemed it his duty to volunteer. Joining Admiral Kolchak's wrmy, he had placed his wife and children in safety, as he deemed, at Copenhagen. But as the terrible times went on his letters ceased to come through! One day she went to bank for her allowance. There was no mone “All Russian property has been con- fiscate: said the bankers. “How can we make advances, wien neithér ¥ou nor your husband will have any- thing to make good with?" She sold her jewels, one by one. The children were delicate, by war privations. She made her way to Switserland, placed the little boys at Leysen, and took & room at Mon- treux—where she opened & shop. She sold gowns ready to wear, and her taste in dress turned to account. was even making money, but you've heard of competition? It was & queer kind of competition. Switzerland it narrowed the market. Such bar- gains In jewels, furs, etc, were of- fered the Swiss natives! Fewer and { tewer foreigners with money came. HENCE on, in Washington cor- respondence, dated the news- paper engagements of these prominent girls; but “as & matter of fact (as The countess was actually going; out as seamstress by the day, when by the intervention of the late Grand Duchess Vl1adimir and others, in 1920, her husband, who had been hiding at Just in time for the | She | became 8o overrun with refugees that) made a 80 or 110 or what not. This one den't seem to of had much of a sele though it certainly should ought to, on acct. of they being so many of the boys that can't seem to recall how many strokes they have had on 1 hole let alone a complete rd. but of course they was 1 trouble { with it, namely that it registered | practice swings the same like when about the only golfer in the world that don't use at least 18 practice swings per rd. and the reason 1 don't is because I never seem to have time on acct. of the people behind me be- ing in such & hurry. 'R UT these accessorys witch 1 am going to tell you about is some witch T never heard of them being on the market and if any of them are 1 apologize to the inventor of same and no harm done. No. 1 is & invention of Octavus Roy Cohen of Birmingham, Ala. vention is & human being und should either ought to be a pastor or a lay reader. If he is also a golfer himself so much the better, as you can probably get him to go along with you just for the pleasure of playing but any way the idear is that every time you start to shoot, he starts to pray and the result 1s that you half to keep your head down. No. 2 s a simple contrivance name- ly a empty bbl. and is recommended |to golfers like Irving §. Cobb and | James J. Montague who ain’t no soon- er than hit the ball than they are oft down the fleld- after 1t like it was & punt and they was ends. The bbl. is placed slde ways right ahead of there left ft. and as soon as you was in ernest and T guess I am | This in- | |screen is made by a kind of a bomb | witeh you set fire to it and nothing ’hnpnene only great big clouds of | smoke comes out of the bomb and You can't see through them. As a | g@olt accessory these bombs would be {carried by the caddy till the golfer | come to a place where he had to | shoot over 2 mound or a valley or & | water hazard. | The caddy would set off 1 of the | bombs about ten feet ahead of where | the player was golng to make his |shot and when the smoke was thiek that the player could not see ! what would happen to him if he top- ped his shot, why he could then go ahead and shoot without no nervous | break down. No. b Is & pocket compass and is used in connections with putting Like for inst. suppose vou land on the green about 10 ft. away from the cup, why the next thing ‘is to find out what direction the hole is at and this can't be done and done right without a compass. At lease I have seen a whole lot of golfers try and putt without no com- ipass and there ball has went from =0 110 to 45 degrees to the right or left of where the hole is actually located This is because they was just guess- ing whereas with a compass they's no guess work about it. 1f you miss & putt with a compass to tell you just where the hole is at why its because you can’'t putt so good. No. & and last is like No. 1 namely it Is & human being only this time it is a man who is in the sand and gravel business and he goes along with you around the course driving a empty sand wagon till your ball lands in a sand trap and then you make a deal with him that he can have all the sand in the trap provided he moves It off the premises. You would be surprised how much easier it is to shoot out of a sand trap after the wagon has drove off with the sand. The undersigned is now prepared to answer any questions my readers may wish to ask in regards to gol RING W. LARD Great Neck, Long Island, Jan. 13. l