Evening Star Newspaper, October 17, 1926, Page 93

THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C., OCTOBER 17, THE OTHER DAY. HE other day ‘T happened to go into the office of a travel bureau. b “lI want to take a trip.” I sald to the man behind the Where?" he asked. hat's what I'm asking yeu,” I he said. “What kind of & “A honeymoon.” 1 repiied. ur wife?”" he asked. difference does it mak t doesn’t make any.” he replied. ose are Just standard questions, Now for the more intimate detail He reached under the counter and pulled out a circular. “Have you thought about Niagara Falls?" he asked. . ; vears old,” I he asked. replied; “going on | “Going on 32" he repeated. He handed me the circular Titat will iell you all about Ni »ays and Nights in the Miam ' it read “1 think there must he some mis- take,” 1 said, and handed him back the folder. “Ye: he said, “there has bheen a “Our com is “Not at all pany’s polic wayvs right.’ wouldn't * he replied. ix ‘the customer that ™ | g lots of times.” “1 <h uld fn < neither here nor there. I came in here to find out ahout a trip.” “What kind of & trip?” he asked. “A honeymoon,” 1 replied. ave vou thought about Niagara and he handed me “This circular is about the Mam- moth Cave,” I said. i “Have you thought about thd Mam- moth Cave?” he asked. - “In whus connection?” I asked. “Wall ' he id, “there e lot=s of i il get | after- | 7:30 the next morning. you to the cave at i, just in time for “1 don‘t drink tea,” then * he the folder incinnaii.” 4 nati He turned o the circutur “1t doesn’t sav.” he admitted. “but | 1 should imaczine that all Cincinnatis would be pre 1y much alike.” what do we do, 1 we to the zlancing | an go by ‘1 asked - more the puges of asked aet Mammaoth “Well." he repiied, “‘there are the blind fish." “The what”" I usked. “The Llind fish.” he replied “Where?" I asked | “In the Mammoth Cave.” he scid. | woman-—-like George Kl IN THE COMPANY OF COL. ALBERT P. McCULLOM. 1 laughed. “This is a honeymoon,” 1 said. “So much the better,” he replied. “Yes,” I argued, ‘but you can’t look at fish all day.” “Oh, can’t you?" he sald. “1 have to, “Yes, but ¥ moon.” “Well. then,” he said, v Old Faithful.” <Ol fithful what”" [ asked. “I don’t know,” he admitted. out in Yellowstone Park." He searched once more beneath the counter until he found another folder. “It's a geyser,” he announced. “A what?" 1 asked. He showed me the word “What's it do?” 1 asked. He read further. “It shoots out hot water,” he ex- plalned. “I don’t want to spend my honey- moon in a bathroom.” [ objected. “Oh. all right,”” he said. “You're the doctor. i 'm not a doctor,” T sald. “I'm a writer." * he said. “you might he sald. “What do 1 replied. “and stories and | { mother,” newspaper articles. “What's your name>" he asked. “Donald Ogden Stewart,” a little modestly. He shook his head. “I've never heard of vou.” he said, and he called another employe over to him “Did you ever named—what was it “Donald Ogden Siewart,” I replied. The other man shook his head. Maybe he writes under some other name.” he suggested. “Maybe he's a iot.", I annolinced, hear of a writer " he asked. “I'm not a woman,” a little peevishly. u aren’t on your honey- (] 1 replied. | “There have been some very fine women,” said the second employe, a slight tone of rebuke in his voice. “I won't have any one slandering my sister.” 'm not slandering your sister,” I “I'm simply trying to find out to go on my honeymoon.” you thought about Niagara 1 replied, “and the Mam- moth Cave—and Old Faithful.” “How about the Grand Canyon he asked. “What's it like?" “It's indescribable,” he replied, reaching for a circular. “This folder will give you a complete description.” 1 glanced through the booklet. “I hardly think it would do for a honeymoon,” I said. “He's a bit difficult, isn't he?" said the first employe to the second. “Very,” replied the other. “Why don’t you think it would do for a honeymoon “Well—," 1 began, little uninteresting.” “It was good enough for my grand- father’s honeymoon,” interrupted the second emplove. “But I'm not marrying your grand- I objected. “Have you any objections to my grandmother?” he asked, with a glare. “How can 17" 1 asked. “I don't know her from Adam.” “Adam was the taller,” said the first clerk, “and had a beard.” The first clerk giggled and the sec- ond clerk frowned. ““This Is a travel bureau,” he sald, “and T wish that you would treat it as such.” “All right,” I agreed, “only we don’t seem to be getting anywhere.” Perhaps,” suggested the first em- would be interested in “it seems a W GO “That's an idea,” “What part of Europe Both clerks simultaneously reached exclaimed. GROSS EXAGGERATIONS----In the Dumb-Waiter -- BY MILT GROSS. | Second Floor. . FEITLEBAUM —.\‘ne—p\'-[ A e . Messus Yifnif. wot it ain't got mine Looy, | wot dope, wot he should do | so he writes alrady in de | fullish book dairys—— i Third floor- wot s Second floor—Mm—"Hoctubher Seext —Awuk opp Witt Stott. Dricd mine- | salf. Dot's de lest peetcher wodder | wott de hold man he'l gonna trow | hon me! Precticed wodeweel hect Tink wot I'll gat merried. Rad mail Nottink imputtant: Hold man behind witt hincome tex: boggain sail for hold lad strull. Deciie o Join Foreign iggofl. Got job I should imitate Franch soldier in front from teatre from ‘Beau Gaste.' Geng | rexzes me! Pecked in job! Watched pogs training by jeem. Precticed memmy sung for wodeweel hect. Seng s0: Ma -aa - aa-aa-meececeee. | Nenny gutt follows me in | Hold man redder peeved. | Precticed new hect 1 should pull huff from table de tableclutt it shouldn't distoibing deeshes. ilmn— butt hottle glue. Hold man stotts to dreenk hot tea from gloot- hop ticcop! Don’t esk! Hope wot houze. THE OTHER MAN 1926—PART 5. SHOOK HIS HEAD. for circulars. The second clerk won. “Here,” he said, “we have our No. 11 de luxe tour,” he looked at the folder, “covering Fontainebleau, the tomb of Tut-ankh-Amen and the Dick- ens country.” IT SHouP MAce Ve WEEG -WwARM pents won't shreenk. Tink wot I'll batter gat room! Trite new juk for hect on hold man. Dot’s de lest lemp wot he'li gonna trow me in had. Prassed nacktie. Heet hay. “Hoctuber savent—Yi yi yi! Baby tswallows peen. Hold man gats hibby jibbizz. Hold lady in penic. Geeves a vall: ‘Wot I'll do?” So I say, ‘Geeve heem he should tswallow now a peen- cushion. Ha. ha! Dot's hall. I'm troo. Hold man odder no hold man— eff it livves a stain by me on de shoit de hocklebarry pie! Hm—tink not I'll merry tettooed lady it should be a rewange! Tink wot I'll make wode- weel hect witt Isidore. He should be de Tukking Dugg. Ha, ha, ha! I'll jost hev to hed on heem a tail Ha, ha! A dug witt hedinoits! Big nowelty hect. Precticed witt de baby—wantreeloquist hect. Not o goot.” Mr. Feitlebaum—Noo, noo, meesus, stop alrady ridding from de hidiot fullish dairy we should be late in teeatre! Third Floor—Hm—to where do you gung? In teeatre? Hmm-—enjoining yoursalf. Goot pye. Second Floor—Denks. Goot pye. Mr. Feitelbaum—Noo, so come al- rady und lock batter witt de Siggle lock de durr it shouldn’t comm in maybe de dope witt de fullish frands dey should make me in the houze poddies—hmmm! Scene Two. (Bijou Theater—Balcony.) Mr. Feltlebaum—Jay—seex witt hate. Hm-—wanderful sitts! Why dey dun't maybe supplying ulso witt itch sitt a spy-gless odder a radio Minor Contradictions: The Difference Between the Appearance and Reality RBY STEPHEN LEACOCK. | SN™T it funny how different people and things are when yvou know | them from what you think they are when you don’t know them? For instance, everybody knows how much all distinguished people differ in their private lives from what they appear to the public. We all get used 10 heing told in the papers such things as that in his private life Signor Mus. solini 1s the very gentlest of men, spending his time by preference among children and dolls: that in his private life Dean Inge, the “gloomy Dean” of St. Paul's Cathedral, is hilariously merry: and that Mr. Ches- terton, fat though he appears in pub: lic, is in private life quite thin. I myself had the pleasure not long ago of meeting the famous Mr. Sand- pile, at that time reputed to be the most powerful man in America, and giving public exhibitions of muscular strength of a most amazing character. 1 was surprised to- find that in his private life Sandpile was not a strong man at all, but quite feeble. “Would vau mind." he sald to me. “handing me that jug? It's too heavy for me to e In the same way, ‘T recall on one occasiond walking down a street in an English_seaport town late one night with Admiral Beatty—I think it was Admiral Beatty, either Beatty or Jel- licoe. “Would you mind,” he sald, “letting me walk behind you? I'm afraid of the dark.” ‘“You mean of " T said, “‘only in your private Hife.”” “Certainly,” he answered, “I don't mind it a — In daylight. Few people knew that Mr. Henry Ford cannot drive a motor car, that Mr. Rockefeller never has a and that Thomas Edison h: been able to knit. But lately I have been noticing that these contradictions extend also te institutions and things in general. Take, for instance, a circus. In past generations it was supposed by many of the best supposers that circus people were about as tough an “ag- gregation” as It was possible to ag- grege. But not at all. Quite the other way. Not long ago a circus came to our town and I had the pleasure of spend- ing some time with one of the clowns —he was studying for a Ph. D. in rivate life—and of getting a good eal of information from him as to what a modern circus is like when | seen from the inside. I expressed my astonithment that he should be a clown and also a phil- osophy student. ““Net at all.” he said, “there's nothing unusui about that. | tunce from it As' a matter of fact. four of our clowns are in philosophy, and the ring- master himself is studying paleon- tolegy. though he iz still some dis- Nearly all our clowns are college men: they seem specially fitted for it somehow. “And most of our trapeze ladies are college girls. You can tell a college girl on a trapeze at any time. You must come over and see us,” he add- ed, “we are having a little sort of gathering on Sunday afternoon—one of our fortnightly teas. We gen- erally have a little ‘reading and dis- cussion. We take up some author or period and some one reads a paper on it. This afternoon we are to dis- cuas the Italian Reneassance and the bandmaster is to deal with Benvenuto Cellini.” “We have a Welfare Society, and a Luncheon Club, and our Big Sister movement. As to drunkeness,” he added, “the other day some one brought in a bottle of Ontario 4 per cent beer, and our manager was ter- ribly distressed about it. He gave it to the kangaroo."» = It seems impossible to doubt the truth of his words, especially when we “COWBOYS MOSTLY USE CARS IN corroborate them with similar dis- closures about other institutions. Take, for example, some informa- tion which I recently received in re- gard to cowboys from a mamr who had just made a tour in the West. “You are quite mistaken,” he told me, “in imagining that the Western cowboy is the kind of ‘bad man,’ all dressed up in leather fringes, that you read about in the half-dime novels. As a matter of fact, most of the cow- boys nowadays are college men. There seems to be something in a college training which fits & man for cattle. “They are principally law students. Few of the cowboys of today unde: take to ride, for, of course, they don't need to. They mostty use cars in going after the cattle, and many of them, for that matter, can't drive a car. They have chauffeurs. And, in any case, the cattle of today are very quiet and seldom move faster than & walk or a run. “The cowboy has naturally since discarded his pecullar dre: wears just a plain lounge suit thin duster and motor goggles. course, they change for dinner at night, especially when invited out to long and GOING AFTER CATTLE, AND WEAR JUST A PLAIN LOUNGE SUIT WITH A THIN DUSTER AND MOTOR GOGGLES.” L dine with the Indians, or at one of the section men’s clubs beside the railway track. But you ought to go out and see them for yourself.” 1 admitted that T ought. Meantime I notice the same kind of contradiction in another set of in- stitutions, but this time turned the other way around. I'll give as an example of it the newspaper account of the entertainment (it is an annual affair) that was giyen in our town the other night under the auspices of the Girle’ Uplift Soclety in aid of the Rescue Fund for Sunken Delinquents. “The revue put on last week by the Girls’ Uplift Society in the base- ment of the Seventh Avenue Social Center certainly outclassed any of the previous performances of the socfety. The chorus dancing of the Rescue Squad was pronounced worthy of the Midnight Follies of the metropolis it- self, and the Uplifter of Honor in his remarks spoke especlally of the tra- peze work of the Mothers’ Ald. “The Uplifter drew attention, how- ever, to the fact that this year more than ever there had been complaints about the young ladies bringing flasks to_their dressing rooms. He himself —he admitted it reluctantly—had not seen any of these flasks and could net speak of the contents. But the jani- tor had picked up 26. He himself, however, had looked all around the basement, but had failed to find any. “He deplored also the increasing prevalence of smoking at the perform- ances. He himself saw no harm in a good cigar, for himself, especially in a well seasoned 25-cent dark Haban- ana, which he said beat Virgyptian tobacco hands down. But he looked on a cigarette as a mighty poor smoke."” add to the disclosures of When we this sort such minor and obvious facts as that nowadays sailors can't swim, and clergymen swear, and brewers don't drink, and actors can't act—we have to admjt that we live in a chang- ing world. (Copyrixht. 1926.) Ancients Varied Day. TWO old sun dials discovered in Ire- land are said to prove that day- light saving existed hundreds of years before the twelfth century. The anclent Iri hour varied, the day- light hour in Midsummer being 80 minutes, and in Winter only 40. e 5 History. Teacher—When was the revival of learning? Pupil—Just before exams. mayhe we should hear from de stage, ha? Ha? WOT? Whooz tukking to you? You'll spick whan spukken! Ha? Wot? Noo, MAKE me I should sharrop! Opps, oxcuse me, laty, 1 deedn't nutticed you foot in de hile! Hm—I bag you podden, medem, bot bing wot I rigratting ex- trimmingly wot I deedn't was born witt a nack from a hostrick 8o you'll rimoof in de bas from helt de het? Noo—et lest—ha? Wot—de teeckets you weesh to see? Hm—maybe witt a pessputt ulso witt a phuttogreph vet, ha? So—wot? We should moof uvver a sitt? It belungs to dees two —YI YI YI—geeve a look! Isidore! Muttimer Meetzic! So (SMACK) dees is de hum wolk (SMACK) wot you doong by Muttimer Meetzic in de houze, ha? (SMACK.) Skims witt huxxes you making me, ha? (SMACK.) You tutt you'll gonna dilute me, ha? (SMACK.) A houtweeter from de fodder you bicame, ha—(SMACK)— wot? Why I—wot? Why I dun't heeting a guy mine sice? I'll geeve vou in a minute a sice—you gengster you. Mrs. Feitlebaum—Mowriss—Mow- riss—Sh-shsh! Is a shame de pipple —sh sh! Yi yi—here is coming de Meesus Noftolis. Goot ivvining! Goot ivvining! Mrs. Noftolis—Hm—goot ivvining! UASHINGTAN D.C. AND FOINTS EAST. L By Donald Ogden Stewart plied, “‘because Prof. Clark decided to omit Fontainebleau this year, and the to spend two weeks going throug that.” “Prof. Clark rarely gets beyond the first tavern,” said the clerk, and then he added, “you know—the one where David Copperfield stopped to get a glass of ale.” ““That sounds like a very interesting 1 remarked, “but how about my wife?” i “Here is a splendid opportury s visit the Holy Land." said the other | clerk, “in the company of Col. Albert T.- McCullom and 25 young ladies se. lected from a beduty contest con- ducted by the Los Angeles Tribune 10 weeks—$800." “1s Mrs. McCullom going along?" I asked. The clerk looked through the cir- cular. “It doesn't say,” he replied. “But 1 re. “How about Rome?" asked the other clerk while I was still hesitating. “Rome, Italy?” T asked. “Precisely,” he replied. “The seat of modern clvilization, the home of the Catacombs, the scene of the Christian martyrdoms, the burial place of hundreds of persecuted peo- ple. See Rome—and die.” “On_my honeymoon?” 1 asked, a i doubtfully. “Florence?” asked the first clerk. No—Beatrice,” I replied. “I don't think she would like Rome." “Naples?” suggested the other. “Mount Vesuvius. The remains of Pompeil. Our ‘O Sole Mio' tour cove ers all that—17 days—$1.200® includy ing two mandolins and a guitar - GAAR_ WILLAMS - “That’s quite a lot of territory,” I commented. g “It only.takes two weeks,” he re- ““Honolulu " < uleles." “London?" “The English.” A whistle blew. Both clerks simu! taneously began folding up the eir. culars and putting them back beneath the counter. “Five-thirty, clerk. “We close promptly,” other. “But I haven't found out vet,” [ began. “\We open at 9," other. And with that they left me. (Copyright. 1026.) 7l Alcoholic Bread. PFRHAPS bakeries will be padlock- ed now. Bread contains alcohol, according to tests made recently by chemists at Cornell College, Towa. Sometimes it contains much more al- cohol than the Volstead act allows. The Cornell tests have revealed an alcoholic content as high as 1.9 per cent in ordinary bread from bakery and housewives’ ovens. The kind of yeast used, the time the bread sets, and the temperature of baking, all explained the first sald the the interrupted affect the amount of alcohol in the bread. Hm—of cuss, we dun’'t usual seeting by de belcony, bot bing wat mine Baitrem is witt de new heye-gl—I minn de new spactacles—werry fos- sighted—so we—yi yi—Boitrem! Is dees nize you should trow don in de huckkester pabbles? Modder dun't approving dees, Boitrem. Hm—of ‘cuss, mine hosb—I minn_de doctor— inseests halways we should seet by de mezzaline boxes—bot—— Mr. Feitlebaum—Ha! Hollo—hollo, Plotkin! Hollo! Noo, so hozz de grussery beezness? Mr. Plotkin—Hm! Hollo—hollo, pipple!’ Hollo, Meesus Feitlebaum! Hollo, Meesus Noftolis! Noo, you enjoining de sitts? Hm—I tutt so. It geeves me free teetckets de teatre I should put in de weendow & prug- grem—so wot I nidding defh hall? So I'll geeve mine costumers—Meesus Woftolis— Mrs. Noftolis—Sh—sh-sh—is stot- ting hoop de show—— Mrs. Felitlebaum—So wot's dees .it stends on de pruggrem, “Hemmitcher Night?” B Mr. Feitlebaum—Sh-sh-shsh—— Chorus—Shshshshsh! Sh-sh-shsh! Announcer—Lai-deez an’*gammen. de foist offrin of our wunnderful bill of local amatcher talent tonight will de marvelous. tree-minnit excape from a ragalation straitjacket! As --Looy, Dot Dope piffawmed on the vaudeville stage fer years by a woild-famous Handeuff Harry Hoo-deeny! An' duplicated to- night in poison by our local favorite, Looy Feitlebaum! Give 'im a chanst, boys! Mr. Feitlebaum Mrs. Feitlebaum Mrs. Noftolis Mr. Plotkin Mr. Feitlebaum—Commhout queek while is dok yat de teeatre! Scene Three. (Home.) R-R-RRRRR—r-r-rrrrr—ing—— Mrs. Feltlebaum—Y1 vi! Trick lock in de monnink Is reenging de tala- phun, Mowriss! Mr. Feltlebaum—Hollo—hollo! Yas, 18 heem by de phun! So is who? Who? De loomatic asylum? So wot is? Ha? I should come by de loonatic asylum? Wot fur I nidd to go dere’ I got here in de houze a foist cless loomatic asylum! Mine wot? Mine son? He's dere witt a straightjecket wot he couldn't gat hout from it? Ha? You nidd me I should indem- nify heem fofst? You should open it opp? Ha! Ha ha! HA HA HA HA! Goot pye! (Covyright. 1926.) Humorist as a Reporter of Crimes Won Compliments in His Earlier Days BY RING LARDNER. Chapter 16 of Autobiography. LD-timers will have no diffi- culty in recalling the Helsh murder, and veteran news- paper men have never tired of complimenting me on my work in connection therewith. It was my first assignment as star reporter for “The Rables,” and the fact that I was chosen for the task speaks vol- umes for my city editor, who was violently drunk at the time. For the benefit of the half-witted readers, I will recount the Helsh case in brief. Wallace Helsh was a wealthy barn tearer in Pennsylvania. He went all over the State tearing down barns so horses could get more air. Mrs. Helsh was the former Minnie Blaggy, prominent in Philadelphia so- “DIG RIGHT INTO THIS!™ SAID MY CITY EDITOR. ciety, and the daughter of Blotho Blaggy, who was in charge of one of the switches in the Broad street rail- road yards. Young Helsh and Miss Blaggy became acquainted on one of the former’s <barnstorming tours and were married two weeks after their first meeting. At the time of the murder they had been married three years, and Mrs. Helsh (nee Blaggy) was expecting a baby, the child of one of her sisters. The baby was | supposed to arrive on the 12:09 (mid- night) train and the police first be- lieved that the murder had grown out of a quarrel between the Helshes over ‘which of them should sit up and meet it. This theory was based on the NEXT MORNING “THE RABIES” MADE ALL YHE OTHER TABLOIDS testimony of a neighbor, Basil Kidney, who said he had been hiding behind a book in the Helsh living room and overheard the following conversation: “Will you sit up and meet our niece This from Mrs. Helsh. This from Helsh. y not?” “Because I don't water meter."” ‘The witness did not hear any more of the conversation. because it was then time for him to go on to another neighbor’'s house, the Quimby's, and hide in their living room. He was an habitual living room hider. But half an hour after his departure from the Helsh home a mysterious voice called up the police headquarters at Bryn LOOK SILLY. Mawr and announced that there had been a murder at 24 Vine street. This was not where the Helshes lived, which made it all the more puzzling. “Dig right into this,” said my city editor. “Comb Philadelphia. ~Find out who did it and get lots of pic- ture: “How about my transportation?” I inquired. “You have ‘cart blanche,” was his reply. But thinking he referred to a dog cart and an old horse named Blanche, which conveyed our society reporter to and from her work every day, T de- clined his offer and went to Phila- “delphia by rah - My mistake was profitable, for the first man I met when I rolled from under the train at Broad street was Blotho Blaggy, Mrs. Helsh's father. {ow about the murder, Mr. Blag- I asked. . Fine,” he said. “They have ar- rested my little 4-year-old zrandchild, who was on her way to visit her aunt and uncle, but they can’t pin any- thing on her. She hates pins; says she is too old for them.” Next morning “The Rabies” made all the other tabloids look silly, Across the front page we had & streamer, “Child Murder Suspect Balks at Pins!” and under it were pictures of Lillian Gish, who had ap peared on the screen at a Chestnui street theater that week, and of Chie{ Bender making a balk. On page } was my story of th; murder, and ot page 3 the first Chapter of M Helsh’s diary. of which I have pi served a copy and will reprint a few paragraphs: “00, Oo, diary, T am going to keepn oo and write in oo every day, and when I am a ole, ole lady bug, I will read oo and live over the days of my honeymoon. Daddy was a baddy, baddy boy to- 1 asked um to bwing me sy bittsy diamond wing and he for dotted all about it, and when I scold- ed um he swang for my jaw and knocked out some toofums that my real honest-to-goodness daddy had given me for a wedding pwesent. “Oo never can tell what a red-hot daddy will do-00-00." I have perhaps forgotten to mention that when the police finally reached the Helsh home, Helsh was nowhere to be seen, and Mrs. Helsh (nee Blag- 8y) was playing a game of Bemis with her little niece. Asked when she expected her husband, she sald the hour of his arrival always depended on the number and toughness of the barns he had visited, but he usually got 'back about 6 o'clock. The polica then arrested the niece and left a guard to receive Helsh if and when he showed up. Sure enough, just at 6 o'clock he reached bome and found dinner ready. On “the following morning “The Rables” printed pictures of Georg Carpentier, June Walker and Miss Omaha on the beach at Atlantia City, and a portrait of the bath tuls in which Mrs. Helsh's sister had bathed her little girl before, sending her on the fatal visit. 1 was given & bonus of $50 and spent it and the next two weeks waiting around for som@ more excitement. (Covyri