Evening Star Newspaper, June 2, 1929, Page 103

—— = = SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C, JUNE 2, 1929—PART 7. change is for the better, as far as the dogs are concerned, for they will have modern gquarters in the new location. The use made of the portico on the other side of the building, prior to prohibition, is worth mentioning at this point. It was in the dark and cool vaults beneath the front porte cochere that the White House stock of wines and liquors once was stored, according to the best information obtainable in these dry days. The vaults now are used for storage of non- Intoxicating goods of various descriptions, ' A LTHOUGH the White House has all modern conveniences, there remain in out-of-the- way places antiques of interesting nature, In a room which once was the kitchen there still may been seen an old wrought-iron kettle arm, which supported many a pot of soup for the Nation’s early Executives. In another base- ment room are some marble troughs, said to have been used for cooling milk from an an- cient dairy in the White House grounds. The old furnace and fuel compartments now are used for service, as the White House pipes its heat from a central boiler in the State, War and Navy Building. When the building first was occupied, heat was supplied by wood stoves, for which fuel was scarce. Mrs. Adams wrote in 1800 that “if they will put up some bells and let me have wood enough to keep fires, I de- sign to be pleased,” and added: *“I could con- tent myself almost anywhere three months, but, surrounded by forests, can you believe that wood is not to be had, because people cannot be found to cut and cart it?” Other records of that period confirm the fact that labor was a problem. Much difficulty was experienced by the Commissioners of the Fed- eral City in getting workmen to cut stone with which to complete the building. They finally remedied the situation by authorizing issuance of a bonus of a half pint of whisky daily to stonecutters at the Aquia Creek quarry, south of Alexandria, and later stimulated the“work further by increasing the allotment. It can be stated on the highest authority that no such methods of stimulating production are being employed in the current construction work, de- spite precedent. Pire insurance agents never seek business at the White House. They are among the few persons who know that the White House is not insured against fire, tornado or any other hazard. Uncle Sam does not insure any of his public buildings. He would rather spend his money on watchmen than on insurance pre- miums, the theory being that it is cheaper in the long run. There was storm insurance on the White House during the removal of the old roof, but the contractors took it out. This was a con- dition to the contract let by the Government, to exempt Federal authorities from liability in case a storm ripped off the temporary canopy protecting the lower floors and admitted rain and wind. h ‘HE remodeling program launched by Presi- dent Hoover is focused principally on the executive office winz constructed by President Roosevelt, A stickler for office efficiency, Mr. Hoover is making a more modern business building out of the office addition, without de- tracting from its outer appearance. His engi- neering eye discerned that perfectly good office space could be provided in the basement by certain alterations, chief among which was the A bird's-eye view which shows how W hite House space has been utilized. Concrete benches have been placed on the terrace and walks around the upper roof. removal of a dirt terrace from the western foundation wall and the construction of win- dcows and a street level entrance fronting on West Executive avenue. This work has been about completed. Determined to relieve the cramped condition of the press room, just to the right of the office entrance, the President has ordered a new and larger press room constructed. In the past, Senators and cabinet officers and diplomats who emerged from the President’s room were sur- rounded by correspondents and interviewed in the main lobby, to the wonderment of sight- seers and other infrequent visitors. The old press room is too small to accommodate all the writers at once during such conferences. The new quarters will be commodious enough to care for these impromptu press parleys. Mr. Hoover leans to simplicity in architecture, and he will take precautions to insure perpetu- ation of the dignified style fostered by Hoban. Every time he looks out of the west windows of George Akerson’s office and glimpses the State, War and Navy Building, he expresses a shudder. Characterizing that ornate structure s “an architectural absurdity,” he hopes to see the day when the nightmarish exterior of the edifice is stripped off and supplanted by the simple lines of the Treasury Building. The President declares Congress intended the State, War and Navy Building to be a duplicate of the Treasury structure, but that an architect with ideas of his own was permitted to deviate from the original intent, 'HE Post Office Department Building, be- tween Eleventh and Twelfth streets on the south side of Pennsylvania avenue, is another edifice whose appearance pains Mr. Hoover greatly. It is wholly out of harmony with the general architectural scheme typified in the Capitol, the White House and the Lincoln Me- morial, and does not fit into the triangle build- ing program. It is so substantially constructed, however, that there seems little possibility that it will be torn down and replaced for some years to come. The State, War and Navy transfor- mation could be accomplished much more cheaply. With the State, War and Navy Building encased in a new architectural shell, the White House then would be the center of a dignifie€, artistic unif, embracing the Treasury on the east and the State Department on the west. President Hoover would like to see this unity effected. Col. Grant, who has done so much to pre- serve the original appearance of the Executive Mansion, declares there is in America today “no more perfect solution of an architectural problem than the White House.” “Not only is it, per se, a rare work of art,” he says, “but it is unique in expressing the combination of dignity, simplicity and idealism that should characterize the life and purpose of- a great Republic’s President.” - Other Gyps That Pass in the Night BY WEARE HOLBROOK. HIS is the time of year for admonition and advice. School days are over and F , thousands of young people are coming to the city to make good, bad or indif- ferent. No doubt their parents and teachers have warned them against the pitfalls which surround youth in the metropolis; they are aware of the evils of glambling, drinking, philandering and not changing to woolen un- derwear in the Winter. : In the eyes of Middle Westerners the personi- fication of Broadway is slill a gay, silk-hatted gentleman drinking champagne from a chorus girl’s slipper. This is, of course, preposterous. If any such praciice were in vogue at the pres- ent time you would see most of the chorus girls wearing hipboots. It is true that the Man About Manhattan wiwo sets out on & round of pleasure after the theater often comes staggering home in the small hours of the morning. But you would stagger, too, if you were as heavily laden with knick-knacks and bric-a-brac' as he is. When I came to New York for the first time I was prepared to withstand the temptations of wine, women and song. But no one had warned me against gadgets. And it is gadgets that have been my ruin. Perhaps you have secen the shifty-eyed sales- men who stand on the curb demonstrating cardboard airplanes, vacuum coat hangers, me- chanical fighting cocks and non-wrinkling neckties. And perhaps you have said to your- self, “Who in the world do they ever sell that stuff to?” Well, now it can be told. They sell that stuff to me. These sidewalk salesmen seem to have a hypnotic effect upon me. When they see me, their shifty eyes become fixed and glitter- ing. They level the fire of their sales talk directly at me, dangling their baubles before my fascinated gaze. My step falters, I pause irresolutely and a moment later I find myself saddled with a large wooden snake, a tin fiddle, a string of ersatz pearls or a dancing doll. HAVE even bought huge, fantastic balloons shaped like dirigibles, fish and frankfurters. The psychology of balloon selliné is peculiar. It is assumed that no one but a child would be attracted by an ordinary spherical balloon; but give it the shape of a frog, or a Zeppelin, or a dumbbell, and it immediately becomes an article for adult consumption. Last Easter, as I was on my way to watch the Fif'h avenu~ parpde, T en~ointored an ime “Take '(-m;" ke said hoarsely, “I gotta beat it portunate vender with a cluster of balloons disguised as fat rabbits. “Buy a bunny balloon!” he urged. bunny balloon!” “I don’'t want a bunny balloon,” I replied firmly. “Buy a bunny balloon,” he insisted. cents—three fer a quarter!” He had a satchel slung over his shoulder and in it was a heap of deflated balloons. I de- cided that it would do no harm to buy one; I could inflate it in the privacy of my own home. “Here,” I said, handing him a quarter, “I'll take one.” Tha hatl. “Buy a “Only 10 Am e F o maateabad itaa anly merially, “I ain’t got the change, buddy. Better take three.” “But I only want one,” I objected. He glanced over his shoulder at an approach- ing policeman, and then thrust at me the three large balloons he had already inflated for ad- vertising purposes. “Take 'em,” he said hoarse- ly. “I gotta beat " IF you have ever walked along Fifth avenue with three bunny balloons bobbjng about your head, you will understand how I suffered. I attempted to throw them away, flinging them inty ‘I» peiv vi*h the e Mardi Gras reveler. But the strirgs tangled in my cuff links, and, finally, under the disap- proving gaze of several hundred fashionable churchgoers, I slunk down a side street trailing my balloons behind me, like a court jester in disgrace. But my misadventure with little Bo-Peep was even more embarrassing. Little Bo-Peep was a papier-mache doll with a rubber diaphragm. When squeezed, she cried “Whoopee!” in a clear, childish treble. I bought her from a per~ suasive peddler one night as I was emerging from the theater, put her in my pocket and forgot all about her. And there little Bo-Peep’ lay, as quiet as a third vice president, until the following evening, when I attended an in- formal nrusicale at Mrs. Bodfish's, Mrs. Bodfish had just risen to announce & chapge in the program (which is what hoste esses do at informal musicales) and I had just risen to offer my chair to a late arrival (which' is what guests do at informal musicales). “X had hoped,” said she, “that we might have the pleasure of hearing Miss Glintenkamp sing’ ‘Oh, Listen to the Patter of the Rain,’ but un- fortunately Miss Glintenkamp has a severe cold and is unable to be present this eves ning . & a» To my horror, a shrill voice in my inside pocket cried, “Whoopee!” “I beg your pardon?” inquired Mrs. Bodfish,’ startled. The entire assemblage turned and- stared at me—some reproachfully and others a little enviously. - Blushing, I sat down quickly. “Whoopee!” exclaimed Bo-Peep again. Then, by way of variation, she added, “Peewhoop!” “I think,” said Mrs. Bodfish, icily, “that it would be advisable for you to take a long walk in the open air.” Needless to say, I took it, and it was a onee way walk. I never went back. 1 I'I‘ is experiences like this that have broken my spirit, and I relate them only that they, may serve as a warning to other young men who are coming to New York for the first time, Sales resistance is a topic upon which parents and educators are strangely silent. Yet how much anguish and expense would be avoided if some older, wiser person would take the cale low youth aside and explain to him frankly, that those tin fiddles won't play, that those fountain pens won't write, that those toy aire planes won't fly and that the worl “guaran-