The evening world. Newspaper, September 17, 1908, Page 17

The Evening |\vby) Otrginia Harned CY Becomes Uaudeviile’s ‘yr “‘Idot of the Hour.” By CHARLES DARNTON. HE 1DOL OF THE HOUR" ts the delight of at least twenty minutes at Keith & Proctor’s Fifth Avenue Theatre, With it Miss Virginia Harned has taken the measure of more or less advanced vaudevill: @udiences very cleverly indeed, and in it she has given herself op- | Portuntties to do things she probably longed to do during the stardom or bore- dom of her career in the more lengthy ‘legit.’ | | From Virginia Harned, dramatist, you get a line on Virginia Harned, actress. | Bhe does not hesitate to let her pen-hand know what her stage-hand ought to be doing. And then she goes ahead and does it, Shé rolls various roles into one, bolls down “fat” party into tabloid form, and while your watch 1s ticking of the allotted time between D and F sho serves the reminiscent dramatic dish | with the sauce of her own acting. Thus you get Nance Oldfield with a touch, of David Garrick’s self-sacriflcing intemperance and a dash of Lady Gay| Spanker driving her voice down the homestret | Miss Harned begins with dear old Nance and qulte Incidentally le know that she has been willing to miss @ rehearsal to hear Tetrazzini, She is to act Lady Gay Spanker. A nice young man {s waiting to tell her that he, loved her so he can't stay at his club. She Is “the {dol of the hour,” and “Peggy” is her pet name. Her doting elster measures off yards of talk about | her. | You can't help feeling that Miss Harned must have been terribly self-con- scious when she wrote Sister Kate. But “Peggy’’ doesn't take herself #0 se. riously. Unlike Sister Kate, she is carelessly and pleasantly human. She does talk a bit lke Kate, In fact, she so far forgets herself as to say “Oh, shut| up!" She even tells the nice young man that he doesn’t know what he {s talking about when he tells her that he loves her and asks her to marry him. He knows her only as “the {dol of the hour.” Won't he please run away I!ke a good boy and think {t over? Yes, he may come to-morrow for his answor. Good-night! you | VIRGINIA HARNED AS THE IDOL OF THE HOUR. And now Miss Harned opens your ears to the silly letters actresses get. The Gunday Cry would like two hundred words from her on the absorbing question, “Do Actresses Go to Heaven?" A leading mintster has gone so far as to say he thinks not. Peggy’ would like to tell the minister where to go. Miss Harned’ Sense of humor begins to warm up, There are other letters, but “Peggy” leav them to Sister Kate while sie goes into the next room and gets into something loon But Miss Harned keeps right on acting, unseen but not unheard. Slater Kate reads the letters aloud while pertinent remarks are stripped off ia the bedroom. Presently Kate lights upon an extremely personal letter. A despalr- ing girl writes to ask whether “the fdol of the hour" won't give up the nke young man for her sake, Without waiting to put on her slippers, Miss Harned Tushes back to see that letter. She puts her foot down, neatly slippered. She Must make the nice young man think she isn't a bit nice. The telephone rings. The nice young wants to know at what hour he May come to-morrow. How opportune! The plot requires that he come up at once. When you have only twenty minutes you can't afford to put off untii to-morrow what can be done to-night. "Peggy" hides her lingerle under a b Fobe that has seen better days. Then she puils her hair over her eyes ad takes Qn imaginary fall off the water wagon __. When the nice young man sees her in all her unloveliness hs ts visibly hocked. She orders brandy, and he turns his back to enable her to keep the Pledge with the audience, Then she shrieks for cigarettes, and pulls down Sister Kate's hair for not supplying the demand, To keep peace in the family the nice young man gives her a cigarette and a light. The cigarette aimust chokes Miss Harned, but it helps her excellent comedy immensely. The nice young Man gathers up his shattered illusions and goes for good and all. The next moment Miss Harned 1s perfectly sober and awfully sad, Sister Kate tries to cheer her up by bringing Lady Gay Spanker to take the place of Nance Oldfield and the Garrick influence. But no, Miss Harned Is sick of the stage the loathes {t! Sister Kate whips up Lady Gay. At first Miss Harned balks. But finally she throws up her head and away she goes, She galiopy through Lady Gay's speech in record-breaking time, but her voice 1s out of training @nd the final burst of speed is a bit too much for her. Luck. mussels, with the result that at his first 3 haul he landed (wo fresh water pearls E CHICAGO TRIBUNE tells of a worth $2,0U. If they were to throw that Beardsiown saloon-keeper who man Into the sea he would probably was forced cut of business by the come to the surface with some plrate's Jocal option wave and went to diggng sunken treasure.—Washington Post, a a i TT (ae a ct Wor Id OOD OOOO It oe) > an Wellington will press agevt story, red har rried thelr gs the other evening because they tell you that It ts a but the girl with the says they ¢ wi Two Dressed-up Girls : . , + t Carry a Wash Boiler) couna they could yetento the new tat of Belongings Along ‘\% 0" carier that way Anyhow, sho was very pretty and Broauway, Wore a most becoming lacey Princess ie dress that Just reached a palr of dainty leather pumps. She was laugh- Ey Margaret H. Ayer. HE popula ton of New Ag York is get. | Ung ready for the | érand fluctuation | whiehoceurs around Oct, 1, Most people are prepared to move heir goods and chattels with the velp of the casual noving man, but everybody expects to carry some few of their househola goods by hand. Al- ready the streets offer curlous sights in the way of human carry-alls. The men who sit outside the Hotel NER, Nobody Cares ‘What They ing merrily as whe grasped one handle [of an enormous washbolter filled to overflowing with pots and kettles, The | other handle of the wasnboiler was sup- | ported by an equally attractive young Auman, also well dressed and hatless. The red-haired girl marched gayly up Broadway, and only a nervous: giggle betrayed the fact that she was con- scluus of her unusual occupation. “Nobody oares what they do around | movin’ time,” says one of the sidewalk hair brigade, “The other day a man ame by here carrying two big hat boxes +n one hand and five women’s hats piled ine on the other in the other arm. He was very well dressed and I watched iim take several trips from an apart- nent-house on Fifty-fourth street to another apartment-house on Fifty-sev- enth, The First Trip, Clarence the Cop THE CAPTAIN AN’ MEBBY GIT PRo- Daily Magazine, ’s Moving Tirne in Restless (i s What Th it] Door ey YO Orn He was annoyed on the first trip, but after ho had carried over two large cats in a perfectly inadequate basket, he made @ successful transfer of what was probably the hall carpet attached to stout stri iby this time he had be. come quite ¢ carpet up the priced bull pup or r and dragged the tas if tt were a high. a chain. L got very much Interested in his forced marches Do Around Moving Time. and expected to be able to take a good inventory of the household goods, when | suddenly his wife came to the dvor of |the old apartment-house with a bird | |cage in her hand. Her husband followed | with the rubber plant ready to make lls | fifth trip to the new house, “You don’t suppose I'm gotng to car- ry Dickey over, do you? He'd surely take cold!” exclaimed the madame ‘Send for a taxicab.’ | “This brilliant idea suddenly illumin- ated her husband's absorbed counte-| nance, After that the taxicab was kept | buay for the rest of the afternoon, and! by evening they were enfely installed, having moved everything but the biz pleces of furniture by hand.” There la something about moving time which unbends the spirit even of the most conventional, It Js the only time 5 J OVERC | By si A Revelation of New York Society ‘ (@oprright, 1907, by Robert W. Chambers.) “This 19a wretched excuse for sitting up,” he yawned, laying the book on the ta’ , but still open. “I ought never to | {a SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS INSTALMENTS, | O | Using bis other senses working for @) sits on une stairs with a pink and white; “but It’s against the law, ving.” | Selwyn looked up over his ninny; and at the next party he does tt with another, That's wholesome and news: Capt. Philip Selwyn, whose wite Axe bad |b: trusted alone with any book.” Then | paper, then lowered and folded It. | natural; and that's the way things @ivorced bim to marry Jack Ruthven, re-) he removed his reading glasses, yawned | “In these novels,” continued Gerard, | really are. Look at Eileen, Do you Ni ork to visit bis id | server in-law, ‘Me, end Mrs Avetin cerard, | #8aln, and surveyed Selwyn from head |irritably, ‘five-sixths of the pages are | suppose she has the slightest suspicion he family consists of © ward, Bila [9 } to foot, devoted to love; everything else is sub- | of what love is?” Poll, and four children, Helwyo has left the) sVvory pretty,” he sald, “Well, how | ordinated to it; tt controls all motives, | ‘Naturally not," sald Selwyn. . Capt. Selwyn and Eileen ride to- td, y ; 5 ! her and pase tho captain's former wife, | are the yellow on-s, Phil?” Or was It|it initiates all action, it drugs reason, | “Correot, Only a fool novelist would ize, Eileen ip anxious to ask eal te | all Jebutante and slop-twaddle?” it prolongs the tuppenny suspense, sus- | attribute the deeper emotions to a child Gerad ‘ :| “Few from the cradle, but bunches | tains cheap situations, and produces ike that. What does she know about were arriving for the dance as I left.” | agonizingly profitavle climaxes for the anything? Love isn’t a mere emotlon, former wits ment ‘irequentiy im weteiy,| “Eileen went at 11.9." authors, * * © Does it act that way either—that Is all fol-de-rol and tzzle!— xt inner party they are ‘accidentally | didu't know sie was going.” sald in real lite?" | it's the false basis of modern romance. Gated neat other and ounverse in order | Selwyn, surprised, ON i | =| ryous phenoin- eruld = ridioul uf * ot usually,” said Selwyn. Love 1s on—not a ne! P alts idioule, feluya tells Ber ther! wate aidn't want you to, The Playful Nobody else thinks ao, either, Why/enon. Love !9\ ‘a Gane passion, Rims from the dinner, He begs ivy uy | Mitten business, you know—frisk# @PFO- | doesn't somebody tell the truth? Why founded on a basic knowledge of good low Gerald to gamble at her nusdand's | P08 of nothing to frisk about. But we! doesn't somebody tell us how a man and evil. ‘That's what love is; the : all fancied you'd stay for the dance.” | He yawned mightily, and gazed at Sel- wyn with rudd; gravity, “Whisk? he inquired. CHAPTER III. rest!"—he lifted the book, wayed !t con- temptuousl and pushed it farther away—"the rest is neuritis; the remety I'm going to bed; are you?” sees a nice girl and gradually beg.ns to tag after her when business hours are over? A respectable man is busy from 8 or 9 until 6 or 6 In the even- a pill. yn ing he's usually at the club, or di lwyn had lghted a cigar, and Sores , reigert’=mildly” urgent, ue or asleep; isn't he? Well, then, ae Ue att evening paper; Under the Ashes. athe aie how much tlme does tt leave for love? .y nie brother-in-law moved ponder- ii rate ; Do the problem yourself in any way ously away, yawning ¢elghttully a 4 OME," he sald, unsteadily; and) “I think 0, But don't walt for me,| you wish; the result Is a fraction every avery heavy stride, and the younger ‘H stood there very still for @) Austin. * * * Is that the evening | time; and that frac.ton represents the ~ ttled back In his chair, a frag- minute of two, even after the| paper? Where fs St. Paul?” proper importance of the love interest ey nt Natanced between his carriage had whirled away into the) Austin passed across the table and | in ite proper ratio toa man’s entire OM ORT tT a ced @erm. Then, looking up at the house, | sat for a moment, alternately yawn- | life. Tene’ Sek AR , After a while he telt for his keys; but a sudden hor-| ing and skimming the last chapter of | ter of being alone arrested him, and he! his novel | epped back, calling out to his cab-| “stuf and rubbish, mush and piffe!”’ man, who was already turning his! ne muttered, closing the book and push- horse's head, ‘Walt a moment; I think ing jt from him across the table; “love, Til drive back to Mrs. Gevard’a. ©** as usual, grossly out of proportion to |; And take your tim: the ensemble, ‘That theory of the Tt was still early—lack"¥q @ quarter | earth's rotation, you know; all these @f an hour to midnight when he ar- | absurd books are built on It. Why do rived. Nina had retired, out Austin sat| men read ‘em? They grin when they in the l>rary, obstuiately plodding do it! Love Is only the sixth sense— Cwoug:. the last che ters of a brand | just one-sixth of man's existence. (The other Ave-sisths of ais time ne’e | |toosely over the other He ant up, greatly pleased with him-| 114 newspaper fell to the floor Het LaRtiss Ih We TREE, | He sat there without moving for « ta poe To ceU hea “| long time; his cigar. burning close, had “tf T had time,” he sald. “I coulg|gone out. The reading-lamp spread a { oft light over the floor; ri to write a book" — circle of soft r UR bela i Kit-Ki, placid on He paused, musing, while the confident| the edge of t. lay : star smile spread. Selwyn stared at space, | ing at him. ter a ® he notle “What does a young man know about| her. “You?” he said absently; “you love, anyway?’ demanded his brother-| hid so they couldn't put you out.” taelaw, At the sound of his voice she began thing.” replied Selwyn listlessly. | to purr. “Ot course aot. Look a: Gerald, Me “Ob, it's all very well,” be nodded) Thursday, DOs Moelle ew eeee ne seeeian o Old Ne ow Th POU OOOO UUO OOOO w York; ey Look or The Man With the Hat Boxes and the Woman Who Hired a Taxicab jor Her Canary, in the vear that vou can mate @ oare- ful calculation as to the real cost of vour neighbor's antiques. When grea’ ereat-erandfather’s Chipnendale eide- board, which you have been led to be- eve has been in the family for gon- crationa, stands out on the sidewalk for alf-an hour with “Grand Rapids" in- ly stamped on its back, a fellow- Ing develops within your soul, for vou can cuess that they, too, have watched the transferring of your own goods into the moving van and spied out Its carefully covered deficiencies, The lady who le moving from Bast Fortleth street to upper Fifth avenue has shown all the world that she prefers to transfer her valuable china by band, driving {n @ trane-colored viotorta, with two men on the box. # huge hamper and basket by her side ‘Thus doth the great world unbend around Oct. L Send for a Taxicabl By C. W. Kahles, SLIGHT TOKEN JOF MY REGARD AN’ STEEM HANKS, CLARENCE ! VLE CONSIDER THAT PROMO= TION OF YouRS, ome) ~~ “2K JOKE, Cn Uh Ey) ey CDBIDDHDGDOODODLOS TEXT; “Rare ae ts true lo true friendship ta still rarer."—La jefou- cauld. HE truest test of friendship Mea not in how much my friend will do for me, but how much would I gladly do for my friend. Most essays, poems and perorations on the subject of friendship treat it from the selfish viewpoint, while in truth an attachment that reste upon such a foundation ls p friendship at all. Where ‘graft’ gives even @ alight Unge to the motive it ls an ineult to cail it friendship. The most unselfish friendship I have ever known was between a man of oul- ture and wealth and a worthy Individ- ual who, in the scale by which the world measures men, was rated very much his Inferior, The man of oulture and education once declared “I owe much to my friend. He bas given me the opportunity to prove what good there la In me. He has taught me the moat valued lesson I have ever learned— that the only true happiness comes from making others happy. Should I not count as my friend one who has taught me this? ‘The world te full of false friendship of the sort which seeke those from whom It expects favors and cools when the hope of reward ceases, but there {s 00 surplus of the friendshin which, as Cloero expresses it, is “more in- clined to confer @ favor than to claim any return.” We sometimes find men, entettered by the experiences of life, questioning the existence of such a thing as triend- snip. They do not analyze the ques- on, but class ali friencship as fi 9 and all friends es falee. This is mani- festly unjust, “The only way to have friend,” says Qmerson, “la te be one.” That te the very es. @:« of friendship, Betty Vince , He Is Not “Aggressive.’’ Dear Batty: ANOW a girl of eighteen, and must confess that I am in love with her. 1 am twenty yeare old. When I | so with her she always tells me that he haa such fun with certain young eo, but always tella me that she vas only fooling with them and likes 'o much better, She also tella me |chat Tun not aggressive enough. What | does sho meant? Lu I should judge the girl t trying to nduce you to declare your love—you | Should feel encouraged and take the | pint. 1A Jealous Young Man, | Dear Retty: |] AM twenty-one and am keeping company with @ young lady two yeara my junior, Although she says | she likes me more than any other young man ahe knows, she continually talks about other young men. This grieves me very much, for I love her with all for all occ By John K, Le Baron, OOTDODOHOHHOG Buttons a Fashionable Feature. | WHOLH chapter might be devoted to the buttons of the season, 90 tm portant !s the part they play In the trimming of costumes, suits, gowne ona, Those on street dresses and suite are silk or self- September 17, 1908. DDQODDHOOODHOOSOS. What Friendship Is. I bave Mttle regard for that doc- trine which commands us to 4.waya eek the companionship of our supe More, Carried to its gical end th theery takes from friendship all that is ethics! and leaves only the selfish, True friendship is not satisned to be always the recipient. It is @ fountain from which must flow the great stream of brotherly love and obligation, else it loses all its significance and becomes one of the baser passions, Dr, Van Dyke says: “It te with rivers as it is with people; the greatest are not always the most agreeable nor the best to live with, Diogenes must have been an uncomfortable bedfellow * * and you can {magine much better come pany for a walking trip than Napoleon Bonaparte.” No nature ts wholly devold of virtues, If heredity, environment or mistore tune has cast one in @ false mould it Is not the mission of friendship to shua such an unfortunate, Friendship should reach down and lend a hand, and the benefit resulting will be mutual. In this attitude of universal friendship the standards of our ambition are not low: ered, The great men of the worlg= especially the great ethically and spirtt- ually—have not sought the palace and the ci They have moved among the lowly. They have proved themselves worthy of being the friends of thetr eu. periors by showing themselves to be friends of their Inferiors, obligation of associating only with our superiors ft puts M up to us to deter. mine who our superiors are, It fa not always an easy thing to judge, if every man would try to be @ friend to his fellowa—and friendship, remem- ber, Is made up of little things—t would make the world vastly better than is ts and every man would be happier, In friendship there should be eelf- ele In Fashnes Hes the pouree of jour | Le nt’s Advice | on Courtship «4 Marriage my heart. The other night she told Mme not to call the following Saturu night, for she had an appointment wii @ lady friend. Do you think It was Proper that she didn’t invite me? 1 you think she ought to go out 4 other gentlemen? HEARTBROK If you are not engaged to the youn: Yedy you cannot expect to monopoliz» her time It ts perfectly proper for he to accept attentions from other men, but if she really loved you she would not continually talk about other men Perhaps she is trying to make you Jealous, He Has Forgotten. Deas Betty: AM a girl of eighteen and like a young man of twenty-two, He took me out several times and seemed te care for me @ great deal. But now he doesn't ask me out or seem to care for me any more. De you think I shoulé keep away from him? Dd. ‘That le all you can de, Forget tim covered—that 1s, covered with a material like the suit; they rum from forme no larger than a lentil to two-inch disks, They are set on points of band and tab trimming, lengthwise down the sleeve, in long single o¢ double rews down the back of princess dre: or they define and trim the siashed er panelied coats and jackets, Those for evening or dinner gowns have become perfoct little works of art, especially the two-inch disks, They are covered with cretonne flowered silks or are embroidered with the vegitale atitoh im delicate or bright colors; they are then set into a bed of ebiffon or liberty However, Ured of rules Besides, the he added, “I'm rather and regulations myself. world outside is very cold to-night. Purr away, old lady; I'm going to bed." | “But he did not stir A little later, the fire having burned low, he rose, laid + pair of heavy loxs across the coals, dragged his chair to| the hearth, and settled down In It deeply, ‘Then he lifted the cat to his knees, Kit-KI sang blissfully, spread- ing and relaxing her claws at Intervals as she gazed at the mounting blade, “Em going to bed, Kit-Ki,"" he re- peated absently, “because that's a pretty good place for me * * * far better than sitting up here with you— and consclence. But he only lay back deeper in the velvet chi and lighted another cigar “Kit-Ki," he sald, "the words men utter count in the reckoning; but not ag heavily as the word uttered; and w man does scores men leave un- deeply; but—alas for the scars of the deeds he has ‘eft undone.” The logs were ® Wrapped In flame and their low min &@ monotone cat on his knees Long after } sat with eyes oning of the elgar burnt Itter Jon the blaze. Whi x the flames at tlicke sul side, his ids fla then yu ie had a koning w he opened them again ¢ ing on t? \ rt on the F pretty th > maid beside aying a tae andirons, 4 UNGER SET -- “Upon my word!” he murmured, confused; then, rising quickly, “Ls that you, Miss Errol? What time ls i? “Four o'clock in the morning, Capt. Selwyn,’ she sald, straightening up te her full height. “This room 1s Icy; are | yo: frozen?” | Chilled through, he stood looking ‘out in a dazed way, Incredulous of it his own sluinder, the hour and “Twas conversing with Kit-Ki | moment ago,” he protested, In such a| ton’ of deep reproach that Elieen 1 while her maid relleved her of | furs and scart, Susanne, Just unhook those two that | age; ght the fire in my eri blen, ma petite! aid vanished Kit-Ki, who | unceremonlously spijled from lees, wat ya , then rose | ed eSiy to the bcarth. 1 don't Know how I happened to do e muttcred, still abashed by his for your bene- ho you had better use it| 54 re." And she seated her- | Yes—ra Wasn't it gay? flower petal trimmings, Harper's Bazar, ys Ob, very.” Her replies were unsually shert—al- most preoccuple: She was generally more communicative, “You danced @ lot, I dare sa ventured. “Yes—a lot,” studying the floor. ‘Decent partners?” "Ob, yes.” “Who was there?” She looked up at him, “You were not tere,” she sald, smiling. “No; Leut tt. were going; you sald nothing " he “Ot course, you would have stayed If ad known, Capt. Selwyn?” one Hl smiling, course,” he replied, “Would you really?” you was something not perfectly in the girl's Drignt nal inquiry; the gayly in momenty was to him yrevity, In her direct pers familiar for betwen them, hitherto, in personal had ruled excep of lightest badinage. Was it n amusing dinner?’ she asked, In her turn nather.” Then he looked up at her, jad stretehed her ilm silk-shod fcader, and her head was) hi he could » only the cheek and the litte| ader its ruddy mass of | and in this form are used to secure sash or girdle er bretelle By Robert W. Ciiambers, Author of ‘The Firing Line’ und “A Fighting Chance,” Vho was there?” she asked, ‘oo For a 1 he did net speak; aed Had yes to this ri? Had a word— jor 4 ginile and « phrase cut in two~| i \) awakened hy toa sorry wisdom at his expens Something had happened; and the Idea stirred him to wrath—as when a ohild !s wantonly frightened or @ dumb creature misused. “What did you ask me?” he inquired gently, “I asked you who was there, Selwyn. He recalled some nai ingly mentioned preference for Cape. his di Harmon, She absently, her chin 1 ver palm, the close-s.t, ear turned toward him, Who led the cotillon?” he asked. “Jack Ruthyen—*sncing with Rosas mund Fane.” Bhe drew her ret from fender and crossed them, still turned away from him; and so they remained tn silence until aga. tion, almost ! tied her poste ipa You are he said. 0; tired,” wide awake Don't you think {it best for you to very oto At No, But you may go," Ani, as he did not stir, “I me-n that you are not to sit here because I do,” +) she looked around at him. What his gone wrong, Eileen?’ he Selwyn. Why do you ask?’ “Yes, there is," he said. “There is not, I tell you"— ‘And, If tt ls something you can derstand,” he continued plese ly, “perhaps i might be well to eels 1a to explain it to you.” Phere is nothing to explain.” (Te Be Continued) If friendship imposes upon us the . Sa