The evening world. Newspaper, June 24, 1911, Page 10

— —— = Rifai gcicpeionrnepnepaarionl pe SE aE IE T he Evening Che Es Biorid, Pettished Daily Except Sund 7, the Ney Reb hing Com} lay b Park R 7 SHAW, Pres, and Treas, JOSEPH PULITZER Junior, Seo'y. Ledocatha ects Row, *8 63 Park Ro he Togt-Office at New York as Sccond.Class Matter, fog Hates tor The evening] For Hngland: and the continent ana ' forid for the United States All Cowateion 18 the Internation and Conada, Poste! Union. bo fe $3.50 or VOLUME 51.0.0 ccevesesssvesees wevssessvens BANKERS AND THE SUBWAY. NEW phase of the subway problem is presented @ t in the report that should the Interborough Rapid Transit Company accept the plans proposed NO. 18,204. by the city without modification, the banking in-| terests would refuse to advance the money necded | to finance the enterprise. Thus when we have vanquished, or evaded, or appeased one combination of plutocracy, we find ourselves confronted by another. Back of the franchise-eekers are the bankers—back of the bankers are what? The argument of the bankers ix as simple as the firet lesson in a kindergarten. Unless they aro assured of fair profits they will not furnish money. Nothing could be clearer, nor could anything be more just. But when we ask what constitute fair profits, the lesson passes from the kindergarten to the intricacies of high finance. When Gov. Wilson spoko a few weeks ago of the “Money Pow- er” as a menace to the country, some of our contemporaries ex- pressed amazement at the phrase. They asked the Governor to define it, describe it, specify it, or locate it. He did not answer, But events promise, or threaten, to furnish the information. a ete VENERATION FOR ANCIENTRY. ACK to France goes Sarah Bernhardt with a sack full of American money, leaving behind her & promise to come again in 1915. If she does, she will need two sacks to take the money home in. Should she once more return in 1920 she would need three sacks. It is a familiar truth that humanity longs for ever for the thing that is not, and each people desirss that which some other paople possesses. Satiated with novelties, wearied with the continual recurrence of things of to-day, tired of yesterday's achievement and bored with speculations of what will happen to- morrow, the American turns with yearning toward all things having the charm of age, ancientry and old renown. And Sareh Bern- hardt has all these. As the millionaire that would not give a cent for a picture by a living artist will give thousands of dollars for a daub by a dead one of the fifteenth century, so will the ordinary American scoff at a live artist and turn away to throw coins at the feet of a curio commended to him by tradition handedsdown from his grandfather. This taste of ours is, perhaps, as good as that of Paris that is forever demanding novelties and would rather have a girl of eighteen than one of eighty. Moreover, the money that we pay for age is our own. Still, if Bernhardt should come back once more, say in 1960, she would bankrupt us. ———_-+- VIEWS OF THE CORONATION. HAT was the worth of the show of George’s coro- nation? Consider the tales told by those that saw it for The World. James Douglas, of the London Star, says it wes ridiculous and silly, that “the anointing was ® farcical rite,” that “the only sane and sensible man among the foreign representatives was John Haye Hemmond, from the United States.” Jamen M. Tuohy said of the passing of the royal equipage: “The mement et which loyalty was to find its most powerful expression hed passed, and every one felt how tame the whole thing hed turned 7; Nos. 53 to 63 Copyright, 1911, by The Prew Pubtishing Co. (The Mew Tort World), By Roy L. McCardell. R. JARR descended to the street with @ pooket full of lump su- war for Clarence, the horse, Its owner, Mr. Berry, the Brooklya un- Gertaker, was din cussing with Mrs. Jerr a bill tor $33 for the hire of Clarence and for remultant damages | few days before. Mr, Jerr knew Clarenoe at first sight Clarence wee ettached to oat. The depley, though finely stage-managed, was not as effective ferthe onlooker as King Edward’s funeral.” Dn Jowett said: “Although the service was eo grand a cere- musafal, 10 wee all rea). I felt thet it represented the seriousness ‘wich Bes ot the back of English public life.” Frafik Harris, editor of Vanity Pair, said: “The decorations of Hlemstreote and houses are simple and cheap, but fairly effective ° © © One regrets there ie no general echeme of color. Ourliouses facing toward the ebbey magenta quarrels with blue and beth swear at canary yellow and bilious green.” ‘Augustine Birrel said: “Music played a glorious part in the great ceremony. Music and architecture were the twin goddesses of ” Marte Corelli said: “History has nover included a more striking pioture in her universal lesson book.’ So each one saw according to his wisdom—and it was a great show. a MUSIC FOR THE MASSES. ITH the proposed undertaking to provide dramatic low prices for the benefit of the general public, I and musical entertainments of a high order at| the same vehicle in which Mre, Jarr and her mother had been personally Conducted to several cemeteries and al! roadhouses on the outskirts of Brooklyn. ‘The shaft and the harness, Clarence's Tegata, were mended in several places where Clarence had kicked over the one and out of the other, After driving away Master Wilite Jarr ana young Izsy Slavinsky, who were playing hat quolts with Clarence (that is, they were seeing if thes: could fing thelr hate from the sidewalk and hang them on Clerence's hipbone), Mr. Jarr cautiously approached the Homan- nosed, one-eyed, sway-backed, desp- thinking equine from the front and proffered him @ lump of sugar, Clarence ni refused anything in the way of sustenance. He regarded Mr. Jarr with @ most benign expression and ate the eugar, lump after lump. Then, Mr, Berry not appearing, Mr. Jarr decided to step down into G His Footsteps. ALWAYS listen for his step, when hubby stays out late, For in its own footfoolish way it | lets me know his state; If he has kept the promise that was there ought to be a generous sympathy on the part of all who are in any way able to aid it at the | start and to maintain it afterward. Every individual has a right to share in the joy of life. That is a part of the pursuit of happiness that is in- herent in his manhood. And in large cities few joys are more pleasing or more wholesome than those afforded by the allied arts of music and of drama. The patronage given io picture shows, to music halls, to cheap vandevilles and to other places where entertainments are sometimes more ribald than edifying is due mainly to the comparative poverty of the patrons. Most of them would choose better if they had the price, At many a ten-cent show there are often persons whose na- five gifts and temperaments would enable them to have a truer and @ finer appreciniion of good music and noble drama than all the cul- ture of the grand tier of the opera, Therefore to help forward the movement for providing must end drama for the people is to doa good deed, And a timely one, tao; for it's necded, 4 given with a kiss | 1 know before I see bim, for he walks L 1 kK k x " 8 | . | But if 14s forgotten all about hilo | little spouse And stayed out with the chappies to accumulate a souse, I don't have to watt to see him, I know just what's amiss | | When | hear hobby coming with a wal! L I K a v u I 8 \ . Sycipttee he soet ws “World Daily Magazine, The Sea-Girl. By Maurice Ketten. "T don't know who'll win,” said Mr. Jare to himself, “whether Mr. Berry ‘will get Ris money or whether Mra, Jare will convince him her mother owes the Dill, But ft's a case of Greek meet- ing Greek, and I'm going to Gu: ‘The grating of wheels behind him caused him to turn. Clarence was walk- | ing on the sidewalk right behind him, | the carriage wheels rubbing the curb-| stones in @ way to set one’s teeth on| edge. | “Bugar's about all gone, Clarence,” | gaia Mfr. Jarr, waving his hand in part- | ing to the horse. But Clarence refused to part. In fact, | the had taken a great fancy to Mr.| Jerr. Theat gentleman quickened his! pace and darted into Gus's side door. Clarence wheeled after him. The front axle struck against a fire plug at the curb and Clarence walked out of the again-parting shafts and some of | ‘hie harness and right in through the, swinging doors behind Mr. Jarr. “Hey! yelled Gus. “What you mean ringing your horse into my liquor} estore?” ‘He 1a not my horse,” sald Mr. Jerr, | ‘He's only @ ¢riend." in the sketch, hay to arrange [it | Can you show them how to move t! blocks about, tn the least possib! ber of moves, through the medium of | the one vacant space, so as to defeat ————— | Gus, Clarence; Reciprocity Puzz'e. By Sam Loyd. Mr. Jarr Meets a Friend Named Clarence. Clarence Is a Horse; You Mightn’t Think It to Look at Him "I don't want any such friends of yours in my place!" shouted Gus, and he reached under the bar for the night stick that he kept there in case any argument needed settlement. At the sight of the nightstick Clarence bared his teeth in an ugly manner and lashed out with his off hind leg, just barely missing '# automatic piano, “When @ horse comes into your place LIKE a gentleman, treat him AS a gentleman,” advised Mr. Jarr. ‘I ain't on Jerome avenue, keeping refreshments for men and other dumb animals," sald Gus, “You take him out peaceable!" But he thought it best to put away the nigntstick, And Clarence, who was adverse to brawls, resumed friendly re- lations. By this time the whole neigh- borhood was gathered round, the ru- mor having spread that Mr. Jarr had bought an educated horse and had brought {t into Gus's place that the learned animal might sit In a pinochle game. “All the horse—(his name is Clarence— Clarence, Gus)—wants is to patronize your establishment,” sald Mr. Jarr. “Clarence wants to set ‘em pstructionists and py CITY instead of Re YET? The puzzle may be worked out by making movable letters on small pieces of paper, pla hn the position shown, and then shifting t about, one at a Ume unl RECIPROCITY is spelled “Saturday! June 24: 1911! up to the house,” “I don't believe it’ said Gue, surlily. “I know all them horses at the brew- eries drink beer, but I never. heard of them buying {t. Where's his money?” “Sesh! said Mr. Jarr. “You'll hurt his feelings! He's very rich, got a large fortune, but he's like Rockefeller—he doesn't carry any cash around with him, But, don't you worry, he'll write you a check.” “Why didn’t asked Gua. will have.” Clarence, it would appear, would have beer, @ bucket of it. ‘Then he walked over to the free lunch and nibbled at the crackers and chee: “By gollies! He's an old-timer!” cried Gus, admiringly. ‘Look, he's cating the Dill pickles!” “You don't think I’@ run around town with @ horse t wasn't @ thorough- bred, do you?” asked Mr. Jarr, stretching his arms in affected careless- And then, ag Clarence walked e bar, Mr. Jarr added: you say so before?’ Ask what the gentleman He went over to Clarence and feigned to whisper In his ear, and at the same time he rubbed a lump of sugar on the horse's nose. Clarence whinnies. “He says he wants to open win: Mr, Jarr, ald |} Hedgeville Editor By John L. Hobble TO iittle braing ts apt to bring on cronto seariou TERE ts a difference between takin’ | a tumble to yourselt and fallin’ for somethin’, VERYBUDY that a purson with less culture than us 1s a rube and jthem with more is affected, LOT of smart men underestimate their ability and try: to be humor. EY. FROST when you see that the truth is going to force its way into your house, open the door and al- mit it. — FORGE FORK says that his wite has a sense of humor, but it won't wurk when the Joke is on wimmin. OO many smart puraons let an edgucation Interfere with their originality, EZ KIRK says it ts not enuf to put over @ good deal, You muet git over with it i ) [ONOR ANCE ts just not knowln' aome. thin’ that you had a chance to find ont. |r you can say nothing but good of il pec 0 not speak of them at all In the presence vf thelr relatives + pec Bh AS MS AOE INI —- Eat, Drink-- But Be Healthy penetra tithetteanenty sitting New York’s Eminent Fhysicians Aavise Evening World Readers on Summer Diet hear @ great deal about getting “close to nature. getting as near to nature as we can. But the whole science of living Is governed by the law of evolution My grandfather took his grain to market in a wheelbatrow: 1 take it in a freight train; my con takes it in an automodile; iny grandson will take it in an airship. If we to-day ate as primitive people did we could not exist, for, anatomical- | ly_and physically, we are constituted differently. Moreover, man is not sup- | Dosed to take care of Ms stomach, ‘The stomach takes pretty good care of the ee: by taking care of itseif. Tam speaking now of the animal man, not of individuals. We are not supposed to know wo have stomachs, To give @ rule for the general public to follow would be ridiculous. In the firat place, the general public would not follow such a rule, and tn the second place @ rule of that kind would call attention to conditions that might not exist tn individual cases, A tendency toward overeating is re- sponsible for most of the stomach troubles in New York. This tendency 1a due to the habit, or the desire, to be entertained anc We are asked out to dine, and this at once puts us at th We are obliged to eat what he gives u meal {n order to get to tho theatre by FTER sitting there for two hours we come away Wy A and physically exhausted. In this condition we aro perhaps rushed off to @ restaurant, where we eat anything and everything. We drink @ Jot it we can afford it-and the less money we have the more we spend. f have been out with a miliionaire who has spent % cents, and I've been out with a four- flusher who has spent $10. After @ night of this kind we go to b enough we go to sicep. The next morning we fecl ill. But the man must go to business and the woman is obliged to take up her social duties. Both. go at It because they must, not because they have any desire to do so. Thelr mental and physical activity keeps them going till about 1 o'clock in the afternoon, then ‘heir vitality gives out. I think we ar@ tain, herey of our host, nay hurry through the Then, too, we from the play ment bed and |f we have consumed alcohol rrr IFE in New York Is altogether too fast, mentally and physically, People Ib don't eat at night in restaurants because they the need of food, but because they want to see and be seen. And they don't take enough ex- ercise to keep therm in any sort of condition. A man will jump out of bed in the morning, go through a few frantic exer- cises with dumbbells, leap into a bath, give himself a hurried subdown, and then imagine that he {s in fine trim for the day's work. The whole thing {8 ridiculous—not only that, but positively harmful. Everything in New York {s done with a rus! Is it to be wondered at then | {¢ the stomach suffers? Confessions Ofa Mere Man Transcribed by Helen Rowland Girls We Used to Know. I am invited to meet a girt 1 \ Ah, those “strle we "How they shine out, & the path of memory, brighten- ing its vista with the soft radiance of their half-forgotten glances, sweet- ening it with the subtle fragrance of I!ac, or lavender or violet, and mellowing it with those songs they used to sing. Have you ever noticed, Old Chap, when you are sitting with your latest flame in some stuffy, crowded restaurany amid the smoke and clatter and babble, and the orchestra suddenly strikes up an old air, or tinkles the first bar of some song of a year ag Ww the face of the lady opponite you suddenly fades away, and somewhere out of the smoke or the ceiling appears the wraith of the little, tip-tilted face of a gin you used to know Or ti ed to know, W, in the midst of being introduced to a charming woman, a whiff from her lace e the ouch of a wand, wafts you back- fy s-and you mumble or stemmer awkwardly, as “Mary Myrtle," or Maud," who onve used thut e sachet, suddenly comes between you and the lady? Of course you have And yet, If you were again ty meet the girl you used to BE the girl you used to know? Would h and wonderful, and her vc so soft and seductive, quite the same irresistible tilt? I doubt it! Who was that chap—Conan Doyle, wasn’t it? student days never to “go back to He Would she 1 limpid have eyes seem q d would her w ho advived a triend of Ble erg himseif, in ment of impulse, had been tempted to “go back.” But when he got th 1 his fine dreams and golden recoliections—the cupboard was bare. The grand old bulld- ings had actuatly shrunken to half thelr size, and the picturesque old streets | Seemed ugly and commonplace, In short, it wasn't (he Heldel.erg of his memory jat all—that fair spot where in youth he had worked and studied and dreamed | and loved, and which he had been gilding, year ear, with his imagination, And that’s the way it is with all thi to know—and love. Those fascinating ss in Jife ding th + we used Jeasuves at wits of a Cecade ago: how tame and stupid they seem now when we t That itt staurant where we u t year before last, where the cook a so ff nd the muste #0 seductive and the women so preity, how stale and flat and tawdry It looks to our sophisticated eyes! And yet it 1s not the girls, nor the pastimes, which have changed—so much, It !s oursely We have ou did these first glorious long trousers that made us feel that Ii thing; when we were boys, We are not the same fellows at all! sort the old | angle, the old perspective, the old zest. It tukes » to make us happy now, But in memory all those dear dead delights are as glowing and wonderful as ever, Ah, let us keep our memories! Why. exchange them for realities? Why go back—tack to Heidelberg, or the girl we used to know? Not I, sweet Uttle ghost! I prefer to keep you as you were, as you are sti emory. | 1 shall not throw you away, just for the f curiosity and a dinner at Mrs, Brayton's, 1 do not want to MELT you! I once read a charming little story of a F »man who had beea spurned | by the lady of hls cholce, and ever afterwa had gone throug) life with a |roken heart, Vifteen years later the lady repented and sent for him, @®ut he refused to return to her. He had gotten so used to his broken veart emd his bitter-sweet memo: that he could not bear to part with t n-for the sake | of @ mere live woman, [ sympathize with him. I do not care to go back and find that that ‘won- derful, rarified ature whom I used to love ry, commoen~- | place woman, Nelther should I care to have Mis that I am | Just an ordinary, commonplace man, instead of | * who omee | adored her, | Nay, go back into your casket, little “memory.” I shall not accept the invites tion to meet “the girl I used to know.” Let Ue 1 who may marry her wate her fade day by day, If he will. To me will be always falr and fresh ema glowing—a bright perennial flower of memory, wntouched by the withering cam- monplace light of realit ear, dear “girl I uved to know | Facts Gleaned From Here and Ther ‘1910 fiscal year Germany !mported | An executive order | being prepaged $3,128,130 worth of boots and shoes |in the office of tie Governor-Generad of | # and exported 33,27 worth, Her]the Philly Javiog (he pegten | purchases from the United States /about Taal voloans to be a publle ree. | amounted to $438,265, besides $1,153,179 prohibiting residence | worth of “upper leather.” The exact terms of the ep@er While Paraguay offers little opportun- | ileved that Jc will be ivled on the ity for foreign trade, the merchants of | regulations applica Ascuncion claim that bualness improved | Spanish days, when in 1910, A larger number of commer. | lowed to wetile on tl }elal sales agents having visited the |0r on the wast shore country during the year, three ef whom . were from the United states, Our trae We imported last year $17,643,000 wapeh with Paraguay in the lawt (hree eal- | of works of urt twenty years old and ewer endar years was; 104, Imports, $16,847; | free of duty, be $ worth ef ert exports, $95,229; 100, imports, 919,894; ex-| works produced abroad by Amariagne, | porte, $0,674; 1010, imports, $2,007; ex- | We exparied $994,921 worth of paintings | ports, 90,581, And statuary ‘ , aap