Evening Star Newspaper, December 6, 1925, Page 96

4 THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, Mr. Pickett's Point of View BY STEPHEN AVERY He Was a Janitor and He Knew How Hard a Big Town Can Be. LD PIC and red rims around his lit- | yeer, In the “of-|illusloning because of the first three. | day-bed-divan-whatnot, blue ey his by virtue of ing janitor and local tate of a N ison avenue ove apartment house. he put his flat feet on a soup box and leaned back in the castoff swivel chair which was his offictal throne. He had resigned himself in these latter dayx to janitor- hood oand the solacing luxury of philosophy. ew York's a hard place,” was the way he put it. Looking up from this point of vantage through a grated cellar win- dow and watching the world pass by (on Madison avenue). Pickett made many such mental observations and a few ocular ones. What he meant, being broke as usual, was that New York was a hard place to be broke in, and considering his world career as third-rate prize fighter. stoker, deck hand, soidier without fortune. horse rubber, roulejte croupler and bigamist (having been deserted by three smart wives). he spoke with em- phatic authority. “There ain't enough ground sticks troo this here town,” he elaborazed. t's all rock. cold stone. These here seven million birds oughter go home where th come from or where it ain't so hard It diverted old Pickett to think that he could guess the home locality of everybody he saw, and as for the dwellers in the domain of his apart. ment house, he had entire histories worked cut for them and much ad- vice to which they were quite wel- come. tle fice,” race- | concrete, | had patchy halr | 3ylvia to share her hurt. | “Marry the bird who's comin’ | the several here after ye.” he told the top-loor | men blonde who could still clalm a year or | two more of looks. When she de- manded to know how dared he, he added. “Well, ye can have the bird arrested If he beats ) Take a chance.” She was from Columbus, Ohlo, he declded. or maybe Toledo. As a matter of fact, she was from Copenhagen, and the “bird” was her divorced hushand. But Plckett's advice was much the same for all, either to “Gio back where ye come from an’ where it so hard” or to “Take a chanct and marry the bird " As they passed his cellar window before turning into the nar- Tow entrance to the stairs, he kept a sort of tab on them by their shoes and their steps. At one time or an- the henna-haired cabaret dancer from, probably. Grand Haven, Mich.; the bizarre French dressmaker from Mls- soula, Mont., who was such a “tur- rible ad” for herself: that ben:ty shop proprietress. who demonstr- 1 the futility of her calling. and without the siightest doubt was horn and raised in Trenton, N. J political boss of the cleventh precinct of Plttsburgh, who even now put a certain spell on Pickett: the two Young advertising men from Syracuse, the distinguished vounz Wall Street financler. a native New Yorker, If ever there was one (which s a mat- ter of reasonable doubt), who was probably riding out In this obscurity a family scandal, and Sylvia and Susan, the young ladles in the ad- Jjoining miniature apartments on_the third floor, faclng the court. They came frem Boston and Lutherville, Ark., respectively and respectably. *x e T least in one instance Pickett hit it with a fair degres of accuracy, though her name, Susan Meadows, was a giveaway clue and could not possibly mean anything but black- eyed Susans in a warm Midwest clover field, many honey bees, several big dawdling white clouds and a tinge of sunburn_at the base of her round throat. He'd watched her old brown shoes get shabbler and more scuffed and, as Spring advanced into April, her step become slower. Almost he could picture her dark head down- cast and, with a benevolence born of fewer demands for heat at this benign season, he hurried up the cellar ?:alllrs to interrupt her in the entrance all, ‘When he spoke to her at the foot of the stairs her start out of reverls and her raising upon him a lumi- nous regard out of her gray e: most disconcerted his intentfon. Pickett was pretty well crusted. “Say, lady—what I mean, kid, is this here: 1 can get a subtenant fer ver place. Afn't you tried out the hardness of this here town erough®” Perhaps her chin quivered for a sec- ond, but from the vehemence and fire in her low-voiced reply it might have been from anger. ‘“No!' she raid. “No, I haven't.” Pickett's “Well then, kid, looka here.” he went on violently. “What's wgettin’ ve down? If it ain’t this here hard town, why don't ver marry the bird and have done with it?” She tried to brush by him to the stalrs, and then she turned. “What— bird?” .Oh, yes, there was a tear in the corner of her eye by now. But tears were common enough to Pickett. “Why, that Wall Street bird a-course,” he persisted. “Take a chanct. ' You'd nick him for alimdny, anyway, even if his folks didn't buy ve off wit' a fortune— h she blazed at him. “‘You let me alone, Pickett. You just let me alone.” She was really.crying as she scurried away up the stairs. In her tiny apartment Susan leaned her elbows on the window sill and stared pensively down into the smail dark courtyard. Vaguely she was yearning and expecting the languorous night to tell her what it was she wanted, for April was nearly over. The courtvard had been a rose garden once, and a fragrance, perhaps only imaginary—a ghost fragrance of all those roses and the freshness of their small, green, wet leaves—was rising to her through the layers of concrete and brick. Earth was part of Susan. She was not fragile. In her distant home where the Mississippi drifts slowly by old Sainte Genevieve in Missour!, and where climbing rambler and banked lilacs partly covered the gray stain of time on the house, she used to escape away over the fence and put her face in the dark, heavy grass close to the ground until*she could feel it breathing. She remembered that now. Rousing, finally, she stretched her arms with her fingers locked behind her head and the shadow of a day dream stil} in the gray velvet eyes which were her chance for beauty. “Oh!" she murmured. “Oh!” And whatever that meant was too indefl- nite for & lot of clumsy words. Busily she began to straighten up the tiny living mm,.rnmn: away her draw- ings. Stacked on her littie desk were a halt dosen pen-mad-nks of dress modeis. €3, $5 jobs if she was lucky. One picture which stood up inst the wall had been intended for a fashion drawing too, but it had turned out to be a very spirited self-portrait 1in full color. Unfortunately, the vividness of the model quite swamped the little bob- tailed blue sult which was being ad- vertised. So it had been rejected, and Susan had gone without luncheon twice that week. On the easel rack were more pen-anddnks and one bright color sketch in many greens. Indeed, it was thrilling to be an artist in New York, to have a career. ‘The first year had been disillusioning and lonely—cafeterias, dark hall- rooms, the evening companionship only of the slate-blue Hudson from & bus top; fallure. The second year was like the first, and the third lke the pecond, except that sbe had found \ the retired | little blue eyes biinked. { | | | 1 | had ridden other he'd advised nearly all of them, | crossed Fifty-fourth street and arrived | Dulaney And this| the fourth, was only less dis-| nd save in the admission of defeat ! there was no retreat. “Career!” She said it with an fort at scorn. ‘‘Dress models! fon drawing, and not even succ | at that, Starving at it. That's mv career.”” Yet she had survived: and | f- | belonged to a palnters’ club and went | to exhibitions. Almost flercely clasped the little sketch in greens. She hadn’t given up. You can't ad. | mit failure at 24, even if you know it. ok ok % LLATER on Susan reappeared fronr| her cuphoard of a bedroom in her one luxury, an orchid:tinted peignoir. She had bought it at the price of five good drawings for her soul's sake. s | she sald, and her hair seemed her eyes grayer, her brow her rowndness more altve in chid-tinted peignoir. Aer the court 1 light shone in @ window. Se he was home. In a measure she blaned herself for even noticing that Mr. Hobbs Dula was home. Hia disti pished appear- ance and the maly of his residence in th rtment_house in preference to hotel or club, 1 Bo- hemian inclination, perhiaps. were not enough to reassure Susun. She was afraid, just a lttle wary, a lictle in- | terested, piquantly charmed because she was afrald. Thelr passing each other entering or leaving the build: | ing were moments of both quickened | color and pace for her, and none of | oung artists, advertising | or bond salesmen who in the| four years had been interested in | her eves had given her that sensa- ton at all. She enjoved them, but | they were, like herself, only New| Yorkers from the vast somewhere else. Hobbs Dulaney wasn't. He waos | the metropolitan. IHls was the glam- our, the figure of a cavalry captain in mufti, about thirty-two or three, prematurely gray 4 well shaped ears—who but a Susan| would notice ears?—and he had the manner of a viscount. | But that was all there was to it| until one evening when a sudden shower had washed the city's face. Susan was too much afraid—until then. But perhaps discouragement | down fear, She had| she | at the apartment house door. and she wasn’t quite sure whose step was be- | hind her. Then, just as she was quite | sure, she accidentally slipped—as | though one could slip any way but ' accldentally. Or as though one| couldn’t. That small matter is be- tween Susan and the Maker of Susans. | At any rate, she came down with | such a ghastly thump that had she known what a thump it would be she might not have thought it worth while. It shook her and hurt so for one instant that she did not care| whether Pickett, who was lounging in the doorway, reached her before any one else or not. . But Pickett didn’t. He was not the man to lose his head in an emergency. Tt was Mr. Hobbs Dulaney, happening by the merest chance to be right be- hind her when she fell, who bent down and lifted her up as tenderly as any one could have expected. My dear girl! What a tumble—" he eald. “Was 1t7" said Susan. She was too shaken to think. What she really wanted was a chance to groan and cry a little, and the gray veivet eves— which were her chance—being so close to him at the very instant she wanted to. cry wreaked an effect upon him | more shuddering than if she had studled it out paychologically for | weeks, But she remembered in time | what water does to gray velvet and dectded, instead of crying, to smile wanly, bravely, so ltke a child, like such & marvelous Nttle sport. Hobbs Dulaney was so weak with it that he almost dropped her. “What a sheme,” he murmured. “Tt's all right now, fan't 17" Yew, it was very all right. It was| exactly right. Susan made a faint | struggle until her foot touched the ! pavement. Then she jerked it back with a cry. You would not beileve there was so much in a simple ex- clamation.as Susan got into hers, so much courage and yet appeal. | Muttering Inarticulate sympathy. Mr. Hobbs Dulaney lifted her up once more, lifted her even higher and held her tighter lest she should hurt | herself again. “Sprained your ankle, of course. Ought to have guessed that. We'll fix it up all right. I'T| carry you up. Third floor, isn't it?” One of his waistcoat buttons was sticking Into her, but she said noth- ing about it. There was a tingling In her fingers—In fact, everywhere. So he knew her apartment was on the third floor. Susan didnt miss that treasure, She recognized what was important in life and what wasn't. Late that night, when she ought to be asleep, she would hug his know- ing her apartment was on the third floor. A deluge of worry drowned the nice thought. Her apartment was a wreck. She had wrecked it that morning in despair and in rage be- cause she couldn’t get a special blue into a nocturne of Queensboro Bridge. and she had left it wrecked to show the world that she didn't care any more what happened. Now, because of what he would think of her when he saw it, she did care desperately. Besides that, her shoes! Pickett was right. They were terrible, old brown worn shoes and when Mr. Hobbs Du- laney set about removing her shoe (the man who finds the lady with the sprained ankle must, of course, ten- derly remove her siipper) he would mee that it wasn't & beautiful little siipper, but a terrible old brown thing. He would be justified in thinking almost anything. | with a kind of unde Hobbs Dulaney pushed Su- trmbled easel off of the which occu- pled more of the rcom's limited space than any other piece of furniture, and laid her gently down. “Now, lit- lady,” he said professionally, “we'll get that shoe off.”” And he sat down and went to work on the shoe. 'he ankle hasn't 1. he announced Susan released her breath. 1le was Roing to continue tp know her then after seeing the scuffed shoe. It was wonderf She sat up and smiled radiantly. “Oh, perhaps it's not going to swell,” she said. “Maybe it was only a little straln and not a sprain at all.” san's he put her foot on the floor and bore down upen it with increasing con- fidence. “Yes; that's just what it was, temporary strain. But it certainly sprain, didn’t it?" greed Mr. Hobbs Dulaney, possibly 1o whom she thought it felt like @ sprain. “T'm going to fix us vome ¢ cheese dreams. Mr. Dulaney. IUs fc Kind. 1 can make good cheese eall k you.” he said. “I'm sure ) ke excellent cheese droams- Miss Meadows.” Perhups they u xlanced at each other tanding, a sort of on-your-mark get-set-and For there was the beginning of ‘Susan's delight and her jeopardy. She had challenged the wiles and wealth of this boulevardier with the lure danger of the “hard, hard town” epit- omized in his person. She knew a gen- tlemaun of Wall Street now At times Susan was painly 3 AMr. Hobbs Dulan his apparent knowledge of the cit his easy mention of the Morgans do- ing this or the Harriman crowd being behind that. They went to dinner at the Colony, and he prepared a little drink which she took ¢ though her head spun’ with it. Everybody else seemed to take drinks casually. Thelr taxicab ridé through Central Park was @ terror, too. She shrank away from him across her to lower the window. then she began to ‘alk rapldly about painting: a stormy Calvary by George Bellows, akout Chester Beach's figures in ivory, about Manship and Arthur Lee--anything to talk against Hobbs confident smile. She had done a snowscape of the park in Jan uar; something about the Swiss Alps. But pretty afraid, and just hefore midnight they had coffee in her apartment gayly. Later, when across the dark court she saw his light come on, she blew it a ki * k% X 'OFFEE and cigarettes in her apart- ment 4s midnight passed became a ceremony with them after that, a deliclous climax to each of their early adventures, thelr trip into the east side depths of Grand Street and Ave- nue A. where a shaggy Hungarian violinist in an odorous retreat called up gypsy spirits for fifty cents; their theater parties: their tea parties; then once at the upera. One Sunday after- noon they drove out on_ the island along the north shore to Huntington. Coming back through Jamaica, they encountered long, unbroken traffic lines, and when they arrived home it was two o'clock in the morning. But they must have coffee—or they wouldn’t be able to sleep. He left her that night with a gay wave from the doorway. Under his arm was the little blue seif portrait which Susan had done as an Advertise- ment. Mr. Hobbs Dulaney had in- sisted wpon paying for it, a small amount at least, perhaps $50. I know you're too professional to give away pictures. my dear,” he said. “Good_night.** In her tiny bedroom Susan un- dressed slowly, sitting there in the dark with her bright thoughts. Finally, when she could stand it no longer, she slipped her precious pelg- noir over her nightdress and rapped / gently on the wall which separated her from Sylvia. She barely waited for the answering rap. It was only a quarter of 3. In a flash of lavender she scudded through the corridor between the two doors. 8ylvia was a journalist. Sylvia was big and unafraid and never locked her door. Sylvia was sitting up in bed in the glow of her reading lamp, expecting a burglar. ‘Sylvia,” said Susan, “I'm in love.” % “All right,” sald Sylvia, moving over. *“Come on. Get in bed. If I'm in for an all-night confessional, I don't care to nurse you through pneu- monia to boot.” “Yes, but, Sylvia—T don’t think he begun to swell | ce and | and | when he reached | she told him, and he murmured | soon she forgot about being | She sat on the covers over her | is. Don't you see’" bed and pulled the knees. “He's not the kind of man who falls in love. I'm afraid— “Well,” supplemented Sylvia, “I ought to get a human-interest story for the sacrifice of this night. Which is it to be? Wall Street Weds Bohemia for Love Victim Swallows Carbolic Will Live? er is good for a col- umn ~nd a half, | “Stop, Sylvia. You're not being | helpful ‘at ‘all. Now, do vou really belleve he's already married*and ter- ribly unhappy and desperately in love and trying to conquer the barrier be- tween us?" vivia shook her head sadly. “Once ainte Genevieve, always,' she said. * wk O fraglle are the petals of romance and so easily’ bruised against great ard” cities. The wrong step made, the wrong word said, and between the {lover who emerged from the man no- | body knew and the girl who fell on the | sidewalk all the unimportant miilions urm, until the two are forever lost | An episode closes up like a weary i flower and dies into memory instead | 02 Tiving on into life | susan met Hobbs Dulaney on the | Stairs next afterncon at 3 o'clock. It was an odd hour for him to be hume But he had alwavs maintained odd heurs, the privilege of being conse- guential, she supposed, and she didn’t | olserve that he was pale and leaning against the rall. Small chance, for that matter, had she to observe any- thing. Dulaney held her two shoul nstant, peering at her. There ‘man of mystery’ about him Once an. 18-year-old boy had held her just that way. Then deliber- tely Hohbs Dulaney drew her up and Kissed many times—as no hoy have done it, and as nu in the world could have, probably I didn’t mean to, Susan,” he said. “I-didn’t Intend to tell you It was just—seeing vou unexpected- Susan’s soul returned to her y in time to hear the rest. It made her cold suddenly, and then Liacause [ can't marry you ever, Susan. TI'll never be able to. I'm not your sort. I don't belong here. Per- { haps I can take you away to where I | do_belong——" She pushed him back. “So it was that all along. You're not my sort but vou would like to take me away with ou? I wondered if that was what vou wanted.” Hobbs Dulaney would never know how near in the whirl of her fury was the impulse to say. “Well, take me then. Take me fast and far.” It was Susan’s jeopardy. It had been growing in her with the balmy days and cool, moist nights. But there were 24 Winters against the feopardy of Spring, enough to deny it victory at the test. She galned the third floor corridor before her anger became anything else. | Hobbs Dulaney remalned on the | stair landing, bewildered. Then some- | thing relaxed him, a seeming bitter- | ness, and he turned slowly down and | out upon the street. * ® % % T remained for a man named Pickett to discover the real truth about Hobbs Dulaney, and Pickett took an unfair advantage of humanity, anyway, by regarding it from the al- most deistically abstract viewpoint of a cellar window. Besides, he noticed shoes—which is also obviously unfair. But, fair or unfair, he did it, and so one evening not long after that he be- held a familiar, beautifully made, neat- ly spatted pair of them on the side- walk in the dead center of the vision of his window. Then came the revela- tion. One of the beautifully made, neatly spatted boots was lifted up so that a match could be struck against it—and there was a hole as big as a dollar in the sole of that boot clear through to the—foot. Well! There was the whole thing. Mr. Hobbs Dulaney ipso facto wasn't a Wall Street baron. Of course, this conclusion put an ob- lizgation upon Pickett to which he was MUTTERING INARTICULATE SYMPATHY, MR. HOBBS DU- LANEY LIFTED HER AND HELD HER TIGHTER LEST SHE SHOULD HURT HERSELF AGAIN. not blind. The very next time those impressive uppers with the telltale soles passed his window he slid up the back steps and met Mr. Hobbs Dulaney in the entrance hall. He was especially glad he had when he saw the voung man's face, all drawn up and ‘sort of vague looking. “‘There's a bird come here fer that big fromt apartment, Mr. Dulaney, says he's from Murphysboro, Il., name of Elmwn, an’ I figured you might know m. “Brown?" Hobbs Dulaney leaned against the stair railing weakly. *“No, é‘ don’t. I'm from Geneva, same Yes, I know you was, sir, an’ what gets me is how anybody can stay in this here hard town when they got § grand place like that to go back to.” ‘The young man gfinned. “Do I look as bad as that, Pickett? On your down-and-out list, am I? Well, I feel— at least down. I wonder if you'd get me some aspirin at the drug store? D. C, DECEMBER 6 , 1925—PART 5. IT REMAINED FOR A MAN NAMED PICKETT TO DISCOVER THE REAL TRUTH ABOUT HOBBS DULANEY, AND PICKETT TOOK AN UNFAIR ADVANTAGE OF HUMANITY, ANYWAY, BY REGARDING IT FROM THE ALMOST DEISTICALLY AB- STRACT VIEWPOINT OF A CELLAR WINDOW. Here——" his hand wemt into his| pocket absently and then came out “H'm, short of change. Just,tell them to charge it to me." Pickett didn’t get aspirin. He got a doctor who diagnosed flu the instant he opened the door of Mr. Hobbs Du-| ney’s apartment and found him | stretched on the rug. They put him to bed, and the doctor regnained ther an hour. ‘Ought to hawe a nurs he told Pickett on the way out. “Pretty serious.” rkett added trained nursing and philanthropy te his long )f deeds and misdeeds &Garing the fol lowing fortnight The philanthropy consisted of meals and medicine and the forgery of a wire andl a note. The | wire demanded railroad fare home from some dim Dulaneys in a Middls Western town, and caut: Lerni. tion. The note read: come | over here to my tment, as I nezd | you very desperatel and it caused | resentment as an insull added to in-| jury. “Since I wouldn't: go aw with | him she said bitterly. Then she | had wept a little over dead dreams, | many dead dreams. Nhe way going | home. That Pickett had offered to get | her ticket and berth, and she had/ given him all the money she had. Hobbs Dulaney’'s flu wasn't so seri ous. He was sitting in th lark propped up in his main chair now and staring across that court d to where light esc: around the ed; of a drawn s on the other It} represented something to hira, that| light. “She's a success,” he said.| “She belongs here, and I don't. Nat-| urally she didn't want to drag a fail-| ure—"" But the rankling pext of it was that side | Mounts | eroft to sell his t he didn't understand why he'd failed Blair & Rlaine, brokers, ought to hav patted him on the back for saving a fortune to thelr biggest account. He knew they had hired him as a “cus- tomers’ man” because he knew the patter and was important looking. He knew he was supposed to stand by the ticker and make non-committal remarks calculated to stimulate trad ing on the part of the row of iron faces who sat there watching their inconsequential fate. The particular incid i Mountain raid. hat stock is ack up, gentlemen.” he'd said and 1t's going quick. > a study of Black just unfortunate ine's head stock old Morton Dan- ldings and that old Bancroft preferred the judgment of L customers man to that of a stock trader. tom men that night Of course, old Pickett bungler. Hi angements w cise and adroit, and the chan that they would be just about 1 delphia when they made amazing discovery the same Pullman car. After that was willlng to let the mos se of human nature take its He'd reasonably , expected of a janitor. There is an'end to service somewhere. B 1l that was too complicated for an impatient fate which had had its mind made up from the beginning anyway. Hobbs nt was the Bl going emphatic Hob that trader h: A advised was no e pre es were the was standing surrounded | So there was one fewer cus- | A ving | that they were in | !and the fellow sold it to a dealer. | seventh street now. done all that could be | f | of the Pennsylvania Station when some one touched his sleeve, A very faint voice said, ‘‘Hobbs'—between queer little catches in her throat. “What's the matter, Hobbs?" He luughed. “Hello, what are you dolng here? P've had a little of the | old flu, and it completed a grand little | falure. Gofng buck home now to she repeated. as though | t understood. “You're not a rich New Yorker?’ Perhaps some in- tuition told her more and told it more quickly than Pickett’s reasoning from the ground up, so to =speak: for Susan's sense of jeopardy changed by the one poignan® stroke to remorse 1d understanding and the so that finds expression only in te it use I'm such a f bbed, “and I'm going home | too, to Sainte Genevi e—Missouri.” Penn fon is blase about scenes. | grinning red cap followed with their | baggage while Hobbs summoned | strength to lead her ack into the waiting room. “Fallure You? Whe vour pictures sell for $3007" | “What do you mean?” Susan looked | up. | “You see, T took it to be framed.” | he said hen 1 couldn't pay for it. | It's in a window at a place on Fifty- 1 pawned all my | uff, but I couldn't raise the | dealer demanded. He said | You'd soon be famou | So Susan just kept on weeping while Hobbs went to the desk to re- | turn their tickets. It netted quite a | sum. They took a taxicab and went | to the Plaza for luncheon. *I can | personal 300 that by his luggage in the colossal vault |beat this place if you can, Susan,”| | € imit that otherw said Hobbs Dulaney. They went to ma fternoon, official places, where they 1 to give age, color, and previous ion of servitude, and then to solemn places where Susan Meadows sappeared a8 such. It was spoil that na About midnight diantly at_an house on es that they appe shop ap venue and s might be by es. “It's no u edly. “I've got you hard town, & e, Well, Dulane message from Blair hey wanted their ex 1 back as a Koo he Morton Bancrof & Blaine were hone they lose « ft said h. Hobbs towr safest place we ever struc Pickett growled. *“Well, ver outer luck about ver apartment, Mr. Dp laney. 1 rented it this morning.” “Oh, that's all right, Pickett,” And then he <h u see. 1 do—for both of us the press to add a touch of comedy vieve r reported pomp of Miss Susan M our ¢ to Mr. Hobbs Du New York. And the Genev not to be outdone, said: “W Geneva man weds Miss Susan ows of New York (Copyright, 1925.) Dulanc It's said w3 the mar Industrial Fair Abroad May Affect U.S. Designs BY STERLING HEILIG. PARIS, November 26 HE Paris World's Fair of Deco- rative Arts closed recently. The decorative arts are those which turn out things to make homes beautiful and living pleasant. An American architect who has been studving the exhibits, to see what the United States can gain from Julian Clarence Levi of New York— Stayed to the last day, and say “One of my greatest surprises is the very superior workmanship turned out by the stwdents in the City of Pari special schools.” These are not art students in the lofty sense, but sons and daughters of Paris skilled workmen and expert artisans. They may be children of day laborers, yvoung folks who would otherwise grow up in chocolate facto. ries or the like. They all seek ple: ant work at better pay! They expect to make with their hands just such beautitul things as charmed Julian evi. L hese beautiful things, take notice. are not only for the rich, but for all homes where beauty can be added to comfort with no great cost. P After the centennial at Philadel- phia, in 1876. Japanese decorations which had been seen there were en- thusiastically used in people’s houses all over the land. So now the pretty things exhibited in Paris by nations from all over the world will set fashions and reach every village of the world. This present article is to answer Ju- lian Levi's question: “How do Paris boys and girls learn to make all these desirable things?" i His own answer Is this: “The speci- mens found in the City of Paris Pavilion are certainly far ahead of anything similarly produced in the United States, and warrant our pay- ing more attention to French methods of instruction. The chief difference is that, while we teach children the pure- ly technical part of manual training, we do not teach them how to use in- dividual inspiration in their work— how to become really constructive— and it is there that Parisian art ex cels today, as it has always done.” The results are, nevertheless, gain- ed simply. When Parls children have finished with ordinary studies in the public schools they can go to public night schools or to all-day schools, where they are taught and en- couraged to “let themselves go" in finding out beautiful things to make by themselves. They do not continu- ally copy, like a task, although con- tinually under systematic teaching. The teacher’s business is to guide and help them to express their own ideas. So, look you. In this way the young folks often turn out work which the employers of skilled artisans working under experts (say, in house orna- mentation or furniture) would be glad to_put on the market. It was seen repeatedly in the City f Parls Pavilion, devoted entirely to exhibition work of pupils of these public schools. * ok ox % THE bullding itselt begins with a wrought-iron grill door, designed and made by students, equal to any- thing of the kind seen at the fair. This beautiful framework (protect- ing plate glass behind it), is of two opposing curves of polished iron from top to bottom of each leaf of the dou- ble door, and where they approach the curves are joined by a long and shining ornament representing a hu- man figure amid intertwined patterns. all in the same gleaming polished iron. It is artistic work such as was made for Renaissance palaces of great nobles, and now it is the handiwork of Paris schoolboys for ordinary people. This door introduced the public to the entire show of the professional public schools, The Boulle School, where the door was patterned (but it was executed at the Dorian), is in its 40th vear, in the quarter of furniture makers, around the nbourg St. Antoine. It was opened there “with an object to form skilled workmen pable of maintain ing the traditions of taste and gene superiority of Parlsian industries artistic products of furniture.” There sre five such manual professional schools for bo: =ight for girls. All are free, continu- ing the ordinary primary public schools, and, like them, supported by the city of Paris. From kindergarten up through all the elementary grades, the children get a compulsory chance to prepare for such special schools—in drawing, in simple weaving, in work at lathes and with the common tools for iron and wood work, following given pat- terns, and for girls, dressmaking and the fine art of home cooking. For such as wish to continue, there are technical courses in the school buildings in night classes, so that when they reach the age of 13 (mit of primary school) the ambitious know perfectly just where they want to go on to these professional schools and learn an artistic trade completely. At the Boulle School, the studies last three vears; and if a boy distin- guishes himself, he can stay two vears in and and | i coming in from longer, with all advantages of coaches, workshops, etc. This school is named from Boulle, | the great furniture worker who raised cabinet-making and joining to a fine art, and was emploved by King Louis IV in his grandiose ce of Ver- ailles. We have somehow got the | abit of calling his furniture (now | orth all but its weight in gold)| Buhl work,” but he a Paris boy | named simply “Boulle,” and in Paris | he did ail his wonderful work. He | used the fine hard woox like - hogany, rose and satinwood (just th Brazil and the In: dies), and applied to them tortoise shell, ivory, carved brasses, etc. In’ this vear's fair are seen new iwoods, harder and finer for polish and carving, brought from | darkest Africa. They are pounced | v the Boulle boys, to emulate eat master. The Boulle boys are divided into | two sections: (1) furniture and cabi net work, and (2) metal work, and ! all art applications of each, | The Dorian School was built for | orphans of the War of 1870, and re mains a boarding school for chosen | orphans of the city of Pari: | At the Dorian School, they learn to do practical work of fine machine adjustment, use of metal lathes, quite | have gone through these schools smithing and locksmithing. fine fron work generally, and artistic joiner in_bullding. Of the other schools for h rot has in: pplic: Estienne inding hool of Applied Arts—gilding lacquer, fresco, wood and stone cary ing, ivory and horn work, po brass work, silversmithing and smithing. Theater decoration has its section In pottery, after two i study pupils make their own designs of cups, dishes, etc., engrave the ornament und put in the enamel. We understand, now. working quarters of Paris (ke the furniture region round the Ho School) have facteries which are one continuous showroom of ar products. 3 Of course. many skilled workm rs how certair practically all followed night in early youth and received s of art education “to keep up the tra dition of Paris taste and craft Three girls' chools declared them selves to he “solely for manual pre fessions.” This is to avoid any picion of high and lofty art with a big “A.” Service Men Factors in Congress (Continued from Third Page.) a captain of the United States Engi- neers during the World War. Representative Eaton, one of the incoming members from New Jerse was head of the National Service Sec tion of the United States Shipping Board during the war. * % % % HE New York delegation in the House boasts the largest group of World War veterans, the Empire | State having eight, only one a Demo- crat. Representative Bacon is the proud owner of the distinguished service medal. Representative Wain- wright also possesses the D. S. M. and was Assistant Secretary of War in President Harding's administra- tion. Representative La Guardia was an ace in the U. S. Air Service and re- celved a war cross. Another distinguished veteran from New York is Representative Hamilton Fish, jr., who gained uni- versal prominence as captain of the colored infantry regiment, the 115th New York Volunteers. He took ac- tive part in the battle of Champagne, July 15, and general offensive, Sep- tember, 1918, and was decorated with the croix de guerre in connection with the capture of the Village of Sechoult. Remaining overseas with the army of occupation, Representa- tive Fish was promoted to the rank of major for his distinguished service. The new minister member, Harold Sumner Tolley, left his pulpit to en- list in the military forces, serving from May, 1917, to July, 1919, and attained the rank of captain of in- fantry. Representatives Weller and Pratt are the other World War vet- erans in the New York delegation. ‘While North Carolina has only one World War veteran in the Sixty- ninth Congress, it will continue to be respected for the dignified military representation it has had for so long by the presence of Representative Charles M. Stedman, who served throughout the Civil War with Lee's army. Representative Bulwinkle is the World War veteran for the Old North State. Leadership of the ex-service men in the lower house goes to Representa- 4 United tive John C. Speak: virtue of his rank as brigadler gen- eral. The representative from the apital district of Ohio served in the Spanish War and in the Mexican border, as well as in the World War. Entering the Ohio National Guard as a private, he served for a period of 40 years, being promoted successively to lieutenant, captain, major, colonel to brigadier general. Notwithstand- ing his brilllant war record, it appears from the representative's biographical sketch that the military group may encounter friction with its “general.” His biographical sketch referring to his war record, in part, states: “Served in the war with Germany, command- ing the 73d Brigade, 37th division, from the call for troops until illegally and unjustly declared discharged without cause or reason being as- signed, March 1, 1918.” Representative McSweeney, Demo- crat, of Ohio, with the rank of cap- tain, served as aide-de-camp to Gen Farnsworth of the 37th division. Representative Samuel J. Mont- gomery, the new member from Okla- homa, gives that State representation in the war group. He went through the training at Parris Island for the States Marine Corps and served with the celebrated 6th regi- ment in the A. E. F. Oregon has its representation in the military contingent by the presence of Representative M. E. Crumpacker, the new member, who succeeded Elton ‘Watkins. Republican, by * ok ¥ ok 'HREE World War veterans are included in the large Pennsyl- vania delegation. They are Represen- tatives Watres, Coyle and Magee. Representative Coyle; the new mem- ber, was a major of Marines during the World War. The delegation from South Carolina has one World War veteran, Repre- sentative John J. McSwaln. Representative Royal . Johnson Republican, of South Dakota, served with the American LExpeditionary Forces. Tennessee also gives the military group in the House one of its greatest heroes in Representative Reece. Dec- orated with the D. 8. C, D. 8. M., Croix de Guerre with palm and cited for bravery by Marshal Petain, Gens. Edwards, Hale and Lewis, he served in the A. E. F. from October, 1917, to July, 1919, being at the front 210 days. Representatives Browning and Eslick tter a new member, are the other . E. F. veterans from Tennessee. Thrilling experiences as a member of the Tank Corps entitle Representa- tive Marvin Jones, Democrat, of Texas to a place in the front rank of A. E legionnaires. Representative Gibson, Repub of Vermont served his country d the Mexican border trouble and an officer of infantry overseas in t World War. Representative Summers, Ren can, of the State of Washington engaged in the practice of me years before entering Con; s a lieutenant colonel ir orps during the late war Representative Johnson of that Sta was a captain of the Chemical \War- fare Service. onsin sentatives Schafer and Pe The former was in the midst of at Champagne with the Frenck Army and at Verdun, St. Mihiel and Meuse-Argonne with French 2d Army. Representative Peavey recruit ed a company of volunteers for the Wisconsin . National Guard in Ma and_was commissioned_captai ing 17 months in the A. E. F. “Lest we forget,” in passing wr should mention those warrior-states men in Congress who answered the call of the martyr President McKinlc during the Spanish-American Wi Among them, not before mentioned, are Representative Huddleston of Air- bama, Representative Oldfield of at kansas, Representative Frederioks of California, Represeptative Vafle of Colorado, Representative Freeman ! Connecticut, Representative Tilsor « Connecticut, Representative Brou sard of Louisiana, Representa Michener of Michigan, Represen: James of Michigan, Represen: Griffin of New York, Senator E New Jersey, Representative Mu Gregor of New York, Representa Stephens of Ohio, Representat Bromm of Pennsylvania, Senator Oddie of Nevada, Representative penter of Pennsylvania and Repre- sentative Douglass of Massachuset Whether or not these military ve:- erans mobilize their strength as ch pions of the National defense th: at all costs sustain the faith of th 4,000,000 or more service and ex-ser" ice “buddies.” w ex-service members are vey “4th