Evening Star Newspaper, September 14, 1930, Page 104

Fannre > Hurst WENTY-FIVE years is a long time to be heart, bone and fiber part of a business, and then at the end of it feel frustration. < That, however, was the case with Charles Brennon, superintendent, proprietor, manager and general manager of the Hotel Savoy, the first-rate hotel of a city of consid- erably over two hundred thousand inhabitants, Brennon had personally built up his hotel to its important proportions, dividing it success- fully into two sections: The Annex, or family wing, and then the hotel proper, which invited the patronage of transients and those who were availing themselves of the town's famous cura- tive waters, which were renowned for their medicinal qualities. And so it happened that the Savoy catered to three distinct groups. Familics. Commer- cial men and women. Rheumatic patients, ONE might have thought that such variety of patronage would have lent interest and even glamour to Brennon’s role of hotel man, and in a way it did, yet this same fact in itself was-a factor in the ultimate sense of frustra- tion that time and again, as he grew older and more deeply entrenched in his work, swept and depressed him. What struck most painfully into the sense of loneliness which was more and more oppressing him in his daily life among the crowd was the fact that of all the hundreds who daily milled in and out of his hostelry; lived there; enter- tained there; dined there; wined there, he alone seemed the homeless one. He alone, among all the coming and going, seemed to be the one who was neither coming nor going. Even the families in the Annex were usually there on a temporary basis; awaiting the com- pletion of a new home; pending a marriage; taking a year off between changes of perma- nent address. In fact, it was the families in the Annex that contributed most of all ‘to the growing unrest that was Brennon's. The unit of these little groups was so snug. Even sitting around with them of an evening in the lobby, and then see- ing them troop off together to their rooms, their suites, their apartments, gave him that cold alien sense he was more than ever begin- ning to dread. Husbands and wives trailing off together. Brothers and sisters bantering their way up to bed. Pairs of people sharing the intimacies of family life; of domestic life. Then, in the commercial and transient wings, men and women on their way to homes. Men and women eager for mail from homes, anxious to get back to domestic groups; awaited at some remote point by eager loved ones. Then Brennon himself, doomed, as he was . Lingma of Continued from Sirth Page such bodies of water as the Great Lakes. The circulation of air which these cool bodies of water cause is in their immediate vicinity, and, therefore, the storms they have furnished the water for have been almost entirely local.” “WHAT are the far-reaching consequences of a drought like this one? How serious a matter is it, really?” Mr. Humphreys was asked. “I shouldn’t be surprised if the damage done by the drought were found to be as serious as that of the Mississippi flood,” he said. “It is too early to be sure that such a statement is absolutely correct, but the end of the trouble is not in sight wher the first rains come. It is quite reasonable to believe that the effects of the drought will make themselves felt for at least a year or two longer. “There is no lack of food at the present time; and although in many places incon- veniences have been frequent, a food supply for the table is not seriously threatened, be- cause in normal years a surplus is raised. The most disastrous effects are upon the farms and the farmers themselves. “As I said before, the reserve supply of water, which a year or more ago sank into the earth, is now heing called upon to supply our immediate needs, which possibly means that our reserve supply of water in streams, sorings and rivers is going :to be low for some time to come, But that T just one of the soveral ways in which drought leaves its )wark &: several years. It is only when there is a sufficient supply of rainfall upon our farms and orchards that the proper processes of budding can be carried cut. That means that probably for the next two years or so crops will not be up to standard THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C, SEPTEMBER 14, 1930. NN in‘ "’ N »\,, ' \ ) Happy groups ayd couples sharing the intimacies of family life, trooping off to their rooms, gave Brennon that cold, alien sense that he was beginning to dread. beginning to put it, to the impersonal, de- tached existence of the hotel. When Brennon went to his rooms nights there was the para- phernalia of hotel. Bed turned down by im- personal chambermaid hands. Night light turned.on by those same employed hands. Ca- rafe of hotel water, Bowl of hotel flowers. Cold. Impersonal. And all under the same roof. Families waiting to tuck themselves into homes. Transients eager to return to homes. 'WENTY-FIVE years of hotel life had made something of a self-pitier out of Brennon. He felt sorty over the cold, detached quality of his existence. He felt left out. Left over. Chilled. the Drought. because proper processes of culture could not be carried out during the current year. “There will be foreclosures of mortgages and the taking up of farms on notes for money which farmers have borrowed to get them through the Summer. Conditions will leave fewer jobs on the farms for laborers, who will troop to the cities to seek employment in factories and thereby add to the already seri- ous unemployment problem. “But, as Mark Twain said many years ago, ‘Everybody is always talking about the weather, but nobody ever does anything about it.' Artie ficial weather is being manufactured for the inside of office buildings and apartments, and doubtless we will soon have equipment to cool individual dwellings. The Capitol and the White House have cooling systems which pro- duce an atmosphere most conducive to effi- ciency. But as yet nobody has been able to change the temperature or the humidity of the out-of-doors. The so-called rainmakers can’t bring rain when there is no moisture in the atmosphere to be precipitated. Neither could they if it were there. The only thing we can do is grin and accept it philosophically.” (Copyrighted, 1930.) Domestic Sand for Glass, RECENT discovery of a high-grade sand in Nevada is expected to go a great way toward ridding this country of dependence upon foreign countries for sands suited to the manufacture of glass. The sand in question is found to con- tain practically 99 per cent of pure silica, with 65 per cent of alumina and slight impurities. The sand is being shipped te California glass manufacturers and has been found to be par- ticularly suitable for the highest grade glass. But it was not until after twenty-five years of it that consciously he began to set about doing something about it. Well off in wordly goods by now, conient within his own mind that he had proved himself capable of success, thought of retirement now began to grip him. Retirement and, at 53, a suddenly flourishing hope and ambition for marriage. Into a life peculiarly unremarkable where women were concerned, this new phase en- tered, taking him by storm. In his success and maturity Brennon wanted marriage and domesticity; domesticity as far removed as pos- sible from the lobby, the grill room, or the thoroughfare. These elements might have entered more surely into his reckoning except for the fact The Story of a Man Who Longed for a Home. that, at 53, Brennon fell in love; fell in love to such an extent that, had the Widow Smeade stipulated that they live their lives out atop an omnibus Brennon would have consented. For- tunately, however, the desires of the Widow Smeade were simple, intelligent ones that fitted in nicely with his scheme. A hotel dweller her- self, for fourteen years past, it was with a cer- tain relief that she fell in with the plans of Brennon to divorce themselves as fast as pos=- sible from the more noisome unprivate existe ence of the public hostelry. The Savoy was offered for sale, and brought a price far handsomer than Brennon had an- ticipated. ; A’x‘ 54, feeling younger than he had in twenty years, married to a lovely, well-preserved woman of his passionate choice, he was in the blessed position of giving expression to the dee sires that had so long rankled him. The Brennons chose a house on one of the private, restricted, residential streets of the town, furnished it to the queen’'s and their own tastes, created a garden about it, stocked their garage with cars, their top floor with servants; their cellar with wines, and set about the de- lightful business of making their house a home in every sense of the word. And the new Mrs. Brennon had a knack. Under her firm and authentic touch the home took on new life, so to speak. In all his pre- vious frustrated dreams, Brennon admitted to himself, he had never quite succeeded in vis- ualizing the kind of perfection this woman brought to the creating of a home. Privacy, lovely furnishings, small personal touches of flowers in bowls arranged by her; color schemes worked out according to her knowledge of his taste; the bed folded back by her loving hands because she knew the way he liked his pillows piled. Sentimental, if you will, but where his new happiness was con- cerned Brennon was unashamedly that. It was not until after five years of their cloudless marriage that Brennon and his wife took their first trip out into the world which flowed about this home. They went to a city some four hundred miles removed from theirs, there to enjoy the theaters and concerts of the larger metropolis. IT WAS while they were at the Grand Hotel there and enjoying what they were pleased to call their second honeymoon that the oppor- tunity to purchase the hostelry at an absurdly Jow price literally fell into Brennon’s lap. . At first the idea was preposterous and he and his wife turned willing backs upon the entire idea. Buf strangely, in the case of; both of them, the idea simply would not be downed. After all, the new Mrs. Brennon had lived fourteen years in the light and glamour of hotel life and there’ was something about it—some- thing about it—— As for Brennon, he was the old race horse pawing the turf. Time and time again he turned his face away, only to scent back again, hypnotized. The inevitable happened. For seven years Brennon and his wife have occupied a six-room suite in their hotel, the Grand. During that time the institution has more than tripled its patronage and its success redounds to the credit of Brennon. Meanwhile, he and his wife promise them- selves, with optimism, that one of these days they will turn their backs on the shallowness of hotel life, and really create themselves a home. (Copyrighted, 1930.) Soap Materials Travel Far. WHENyoubuyae-keolmplorsfev pennies, you purchase the fruit of an industrial tree the roots of which stretch out to the far corners of the earth. The chief raw materials of soap are fats, oils and alkali. The fats and alkali come from this country, but the oils are brought in chiefly from foreign sources, millions of pounds be- ing imported annually. The manufacture of soap is done in large scale operations, the melted fats and alkali being pumped through large pipes into huge kettles three stories high. These kettles are provided with steam coils at the base, which supply the heat for the boiling. This first process brings about partial saponification of the fats when the acids and the alkali balance each other. ‘The second step, graining, brings about puri- fication of the soap through the addition of salt. the surface, with glycerin, salt and spent al- kali going to the bottom. The liquids at the bottom are drawn off and the remaining soap is then boiled with water until it becomes pasty. The third step is the boiling with more al- kali until saponification is complete. After the “half-spent lyes” are drawn off the soap is allowed to settle and the pure soap drawn off from the top by means of pumps and pipes. ‘The soap is led into crutching machines where rotating blades whip it into an even, if some- what foamy, texture. With the completion of this process the soap is ready to be run off into molds and hardened. ‘The huge blocks of solidified soap are then cut into thin slabs by means of piano wire. These slabs are cut, stamped and dried, and then packed for the market. Copra, the meat of the coconut, and copra oil are imported in, large quantities for .soap The salt causes the soap to collect on making, along with an oil pressed from the fruit of the palm tree; olive foots, the residue after olive oil is pressed from olives; peanut oil, sesame oil, vegetable tallow from China’s tallow trees, whale oil, menhaden oil and others. The flower gardens of the world also are raided to provide the scents so desired in toilet soaps. Southern France sends lavender; Spain rosemary and red thyme, Russia, sun- flower seed oil; Brazil, hoise de rose; West Indies, oil of bay; East Indies, citronella and lemon garse oils; Algeria, geranium oil; Italy, bergamot, and Australia, sandalwood oil. Some idea of the extent of the imports of these essentials to modern soaps can be gath- ered from the fact that if a single ship were available, it would require 35 years to bring in a single year’s requirements. 1)1‘01fg/zt Fatal to Flies. THE pessimist who always finds a fly in the ointment has his opposite in the optimist who can see a silver lining in every cloud. In a case under dscussion, the optimist takes up the question of flies. The severe drought that has brought so much loss to the farmer and so much sorrow to the householder, watching his lawn and garden burn up, proved devastating to the fly population of the country. The lack of moisture brought about conditions which were very discouraging to fly propagation, with the result that the ranks of this health menace were greatly decimated. The optimist can find some solace for the other damage in this gain. The pessimist gets in his inning, however, in the fact that flies are much more anxious to enter houses under present conditions, for they find food and moisture scarce outside, :