Evening Star Newspaper, November 20, 1927, Page 38

AROUND NNIE STREET CAR was whizzing along, when a passenger pressed a button at a yellow op sign. She was an old pas- senger, who prodded a cane on the ground before each step, and when she elected to get out by the rear door. the conductor. as- sisted her and jumped out to help her land safely on the street. The fates must.. have been in af teasing mood, for § he failed to jump back before the car spurted on- ward. Beipg a slim, long-legged . voung conductor, S he sprinted a few == /&= steps on the as =7, phalt and made a jeap for the step It was a leap that7, s0 he took to runving after Ms car, a8 a racer runs for the chalk ine. y U %0 young men and a girl n a sport suit, who were on the side seat hest to the door, welcomed the mis- hap with hilarious gracelessness, 0“”‘ poking a head out of the open win- : back of them to call out to the tep lively.” aboard, please.” fove up front, please.” he conductor grinned at his own lessness, but was about to lose ‘marathon, when.the girl pressed a button before bawling back to him: “Wait till the car stops, lady. And, of course, the car stopped at the corner and the breathless one hopped aboard. And that would have been all there was to it, except that: An austerely superior passen s«id to a husband who had worry lines between his eyes: “That girl ought to be ashamed of herself, acting like that in public.” “She doesn’t mean any harm—just a little fun.” “Of course, you take up for her— but if T had done it.” The man might have mentioned that there is & bit of difference between mid-age—on the shady side of 40, say —and joyous, untrammeled youth, but he was wise enough to keep quiet, which ended that little talk. Highly superior people are a gift to humanity, of course—provided they keep to their pedesta but it is the everyday, rollicking sort that one likes to have around—except—— Sometimes. e ‘] be a dignified citizen of today and a beloved memory of the past is the double distinction of Miss Jeanie Winston, who was recently forced back into Washington’s spot- light by admirers of the dashing opera singer, who was once the supreme at- traction of the town. Miss Winston responded recently to the pleadings of the drama section of the Women'’s City Club to be its hon- or guest at a tea. It was a lovely bringing together of old fans and their idol, but the public, in a larger num- ber, was accorded the pleasure of see- ing her as honor guest of the opera, “The Black Hussar,” at its opening here a little while ago. In these days, when most of us ac- cept genius and eminence with a non- chalant “What of it?” the younger generation may have wondered at the near-adoration of Jeanie by the boys and girls of her day. They rallied around her between acts, and she was continuously receiving callers in her box or leaning over to greet those lined outside in the orchestra. Today was forgotten. Every man and waman in that theater old enough to remem- ber back a couple of decades was on hand to pay loyalty to the once be- loved prima donna—no longer the ras- cally gallant Fra Diavolo or pictur. esque Boccacclo, but a stately, melody- voiced woman, who was a dream to Jook at, in soft white silk and lace: a chiffony ‘scarf that deepened from pink to crimson, and diamonds—and diamonds! Today, when business hours are over, many of the let-out clerks look like high school girls, but back when Jeanie was the toast of the town, Such youngsters stayed at home with mamma. Instead of being young busi- ness women with bank accounts of their own, they were dependent on parents for pocket money and were doubtless just as happy—though their efforts to buy tickets for the success- sion of operas made some funny little * confessions to tell to Miss Winston on that wonder night. If one had space, it would make a real funny little stock of incidents—taking in other confes- sions told her at other times, but: here are two, anyway: One is a physician, who, by right of family prominence and a success- ful profession, occupies a place of hjgh social distinction. He was a col- lege boy when Jeanie’s star was at its zenith, and perfectly sure that he bad to go to the opera every week. He spent all his pocket allowance on tickets, and when the money gave out he would root around the house for old bottles, rags and papers, to raise a quarter for the show. And a woman who introduced her- self to Miss Winston on the street| excused herself in a fashion some- thing like tis: “I just had to speak to you, be. cause we were such devoted fans of vours, especially my sister. We were not o well off at that time, and when there was no money to spend on tickets she would hunt around the home for something she could steal away and eell. One time she found a gold “set” that had belonged to a deceased grandmother and which we vera’ keeping in retired tribute—sort of hand.down memento, you Know. And. as gold always has its value, she sold it for enough to zet up an opera party and take us all along.” Some dramatic_critics estimated that Miss Winston's attrac- tion for young girls had never been equaled in this city. Instead of tak- ing that romantic valuation to her personal self, she explained that feminine adoration must be credited 10 her hero roles in operas, with a heavy vote in favor of Fra Diavolo, that gay young bandit of song. < Winston can look back without | 8 to those glamorous days of vouth and song, for the reason that 1he undercurrent of her life was one of helpfulness and self-sacrifice. Some of these same beloved old fans may wot know it, but in her deep and Jonest love for music she pioneercd her way to the far West to carry opera to men and women who had rever seen a stage. With a small and arduous company, she produced Jood res in any old place that of that day| THE CITY my work, as I always do, so that 1 could kecp everything clean, do the | cooking and attend to the front pave- Taent. and still have a bit of time in | the afternoon for my own mending. | And, besides that, I was always ready | || to do any little extra job like an un- | oxpected luncheon, or washing a | blouse that the madam thought she | couldn’t'do without, but one day, be- fore it was time to go about dinner, | she caught me darning my stockings. | It upset her so, to see me “wasting | | time she had to pay for” that she was forever raking up useless things for me to do. I soon caught up to the reason and took to dawdling so over my work that nokiness was getting to | be a habit. So I quit before I had spoiled myself. I don’t like chamber- maiding in a_hotel, but it has one | satisfaction: When your work is done, it is done.” | As those two knights said, after { they had lanced each other to death— | or maybe it was before: verything in this world, universal, national, artistic or plain domestic, depends entirely upon the point of | view. * ok ok % HERE is a tiny something that is | ood enough for a headline, but | which would never even be heard of in this quiet corner, except that a cer- tain person is always snooping around to hear what people will say: | 1t is about a little woman with a big intellect and friendly eyes, whose home in nearby Virginia includes a wonder-garden of flowers and fruits. She is a busy little person, forever at- tending to meetings and the like re- sponsibilities that being a popular clubwoman involves—and always en- thusiastic over the perfections of a loveiy home and the very best hus- band, ever—and yet: Throughout the Summer she sent flowers to the sick in hospitals and at homes that meant a lot of traveling around, and never did she come into the city that her arms were not filled with fruit and floral gifts to friends— | especially to friends who had, no gar- | dens of their own. | With all this overflow of generos: | ity, she is also a methodical woman, | who systematizes her work with the punctiliousness born of girlhood serv- ice as a teacher in a vast Institution that called for strictest details. So, | when one grateful woman who had been the recipient of many flowers throughout the season—except for a month of motoring with friend hus. band through Canada and far-off places like that—spoke of the many houquets she must have given away in the Spring and Summer, the an- swer came with happy frankness: “Three hundred and fifty.” And when you size up the kindly thoughts added to those thousands of gift blossoms, you will know that so gracious a deed was worth the flaring. est style of headlines—more especially worthy Zor the reason that the donor herself doesn’t want them. N BERLIN DUST RATION REACHES HALF POUND 1,000 Cubic Feet of Poison Gas Also Daily Average for Residents of City. Correspondence of the Assoctated Press. BERLIN.—The daily ration of dust consumed by the average Berliner is | half a pound, with about 1,000 cubic | feet of poison gas thrown in, says Dr. | Meldau, a sanitary engineer. | According to this expert Berlin 1s daily snowed under by 1.000 tons of | ash dust, emitted from factory and dwelling house chimneys. Enough to fill 50 freight cars, he asserts. The consumption of this dust is the lesser evil, scientists maintain, The | dust-laden air prevents the sun’s rays | from penetrating. Especially the | | ultra-violet rays, whose job it is to kill hostile germs, are weakened for completely vitiated. ~ Recent gril epidemics are largely attributetd to this cause. Dust in_these quantities also causes | material damage. It makes disastrous | inroads on iron and stone, while the | poisonous gas puffed out by automo- | biles produce iron rust. .. SMOKE AND DRINK HELD HARMFUL TO THROATS Blamed by French Critics for Tak- ing the Music Out of Women’s Voices. Correspondence of the Assoclated Press. PARIS—Cocktails and cigarettes are being blamed for taking the music out of women's voices. On the stage, particularly, says Duvernois, a good-humored eritic, it is noticeable that actresses are more and more frequently afflicted with harder, deeper voices and are more often off the boards with throat trouble. Bobbed hair, of course, has been blamed by some for exposing the back of the neck to chill winds, but most | agree that hard smoking and the dy- { namic qualities of the mixed drink are much to blame. When it comes to telling how to cure the trouble the self-appointed doctors disagree, “When a woman telephones in a voice that is out of tune,” suggests one, “address her as ‘Monsieur.’ That will hurt her pride.” “On the contrary,” another argues, | “the woman would be complimented to | be mistaken for a man.” |~ Anyway, all agree that the musical tones of the modern woman's voice | ! are turning stridently toward jazz. YOUR cquld be procured—many times in. enis. But it was opera. And the people loved it. Old_conditions have gived way to ere must be many out In the once and v who love their Jeanie Winston —even as you and 1. AT THE servaut problem, like that medieval shield, has two sides— and the view you get depends upon whether you are discussing it in the Jiving room with a neighbor, or on the street—say at 6 o'clock in the morn- ing on the way to early church. A woman who was brisking along | with that intention had the block to hierself until, at the corner, two neat- Jy dressed young women turned from @ “side pavement and walked ahead. ‘One was expressing surprise that the other was no longer enzaged in her former work—and this was the ex- planation given: . “Yes, I was sorry to leave, because there were only three in the family ‘and the pay was good. 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