The evening world. Newspaper, June 21, 1912, Page 22

T t , re World Daily Magazine, Friday, June 21 ESTABLISHED BY JOSEPH PULITZER, Published Daily Except Sunday by the Press Publishing Company, Now 68 to |" 63 Park Row, New Yo Entered at the Port-OMee a New Tork ag Secont-Class Matter @wbeocription Rates to The Evening) For England ard the Continent and All Countries In the International Postal Taion. $9.78 a6 World for the United States and Canada, ‘Year.. Month. VOLUME 32. $3.50) One Year. 0} One Month .NO, 18,567 NO CORPSES YET. 0 FAR, in spite of awful threats and forebodings, the convention S at Chicago has gone on without bloodshed. After all, cheering and jeering and raising a deafening row when somebody tries to speak are honored modes of parliamentary | Procedure. ‘Ine most ancient and august deliberative bodies have gothing on the Chicago convention in these respects. The House of | ons on occasion can hoot and groan with the best of them, and im the Austrian Parliament inkstands and chairs circulate as freely as-cuss words. At Chicago up to date nobody has thrown anybody else out of he Evenin The Summer Girl (Z { } - fe window, nor has there been any of the gencral blackening of cyes @nd biting of noses that a shivering country was warned to expect. Bo large section of delegates has been blown bodily into the etreet, Ror has Mr. Meddle McCormick shot the roof off the convention hall, the which he promised to do. ¢ In fact, the sitting has seen much more rollicking than wrath, ‘bed the liveliest “time” eo far reported was nothing more awful than & highly attractive young woman in white boosting Somehody’s for- fmes with a eweet emile in the midst of loud demonstrations of ap- for herself. ¢ Let us hope this state of things may continue—if only to fool Buropean newspapers that class the convention slong with shooting carnivals and lynching parties, and are hopping around, rab- «Ming their hands and getting ready to count the dead. WHAT WILL GRANDMA SAY? © YOU feel a draught? Then stay in it and be thankful! D Tf Grandmother ever eniffed she’s going to when stie : reads Dr. William Brady’s dissertation upon “Colds” in the Gurrent number of the New York Medical Journal. Much as ever the Doctor will admit there is such a thing! Jn ‘the firet place he insiste upon calling s cold in the head “coryze”— “with contempt—which is annoying to begin with. Then he goes on to “abuse us and be sarcastic about us for thinking that sittfng in o @raught or getting our feet wet ever gave us anything of the sort. “Draughts,” he scoffs, “never fail in a diagnostic pinch. And you may rest secure in the knowledge that your near-diagnosis will “be duly corroborated by Father, Mother, Grandma and Aunt Jane, to say nothing of Mrs. Grundy. “Draughts,” he persists, after these flings at the family, “are as inevitable as the rising eun or the falling rain or the changing weather. "A clean draught of cold fresh air is an unmitigated blessing—un- mitigated by a window board or other curious contrivance to make the ‘draught crooked. The draught will do the most good when we take it straight. The draught dodger is pretty sure to be a coryza garrier. ‘The best disposal we can make of window boards is to send them to ‘an old ladies’ home--to be used for kindlings.” And just listen to this: | Wet feet are of no consequence unless they become uncom- fortably cold. e ° ° So long as a child is com- fortable, though he stands in a puddle ali day, the effect is ° tonic; so soon as the reaction fails and the circulation loses its equilibrium the child becomes too uncomfortable to enjoy him- aclf and, if he is not an imbecile, he goes in to get warm, Here’s another for Grandma: From the very instant of our arrival in this vate of tears the cold bogey is held up before us, Grandma, the inexorable, stands waiting for her cue to receive us in a warm flannel Dlanket, and the nurse souses us in a hot tub before a roaring fire, Asa parting shot: When the present gencration of open ajr school girls will have married, multiplied and retired to the chimney corner, we may hope to witness the delightful spectacle of a grand- mother unparalyzed and undemented sitting knitting in a draught. The present day type frequently fractures her femur dodging draughts, Did you ever! a os THE COLONIZER. Having been a slave to the Turks; prisoner among the most barbarous savages; after my deliverance commonly dis- | covering and ranging those large rivers and unknown nations with auch a handful of ignorant companions that the wiser sort | often gave me up for lost; always in mutinics, wants and mis- eries; blown up with gunpowder; a long time a prisoner among the French pirates, from whom escaping in a little boat by my- self, and adrift all such a stormy winter night, when their ships were split, nure than 100,000 pounds sterling lost which they had taken at and most of them drowned, And many a score of the worst winter months have I lived in the fields; yet to have Uved near thirty-seven years in the midst of wars, pesti- lence and famine, by which many a hundred thousand have died about me, and scarce five Uving of them that went first with me to Virginia, and yet to see the fruits of my labours thus well begin to prosper (though I have but my labour for my pains), have I not much reason, both privately dnd publicly, to acknowl edge it, and give God thanks? x CAPT, JOHN SMITH. | Founder of the English Colony in Virginia, 1607, Died June 21, 1631, ———_—=+ ITH a matinee beginning promptly at 2.09 this afternoon The Summer of 1912 enters upon a continuous New York bs engagement which, despite the critics and regardless of at- *tendance or box-office receipts, will run until Sept. 23, ending wilh matinee of that day. si Should Bow First, Fo the EAstor of The Pvening World: He tt @ gentleman's place to greet & The Former le Correct, ‘To the Editor of The Evening World: Which {# corect: “We could have York World). ND now," sald Mr. Jarr, as he! draped himself gracefully| over the bar, “proceed with! your recital of your procedure that! brought about @ cessation of marital warfare.” “I don't get you," said Gus; “oome again.” “Lot us gather your personal expe- rience in the taming of your par- ticular’ shrew," replied Mr. Jarr, “If you are kidding me," said Gus, ‘1 don't care, A rattlesnake biting me for a joke would only make me laugh these days" “And the ralson d'etre of your op- timism?” asked Mr, Jarr, “Go ahead and talk all the jaw- breakers you want to, T ain't saying I don't understand every word you say, even if I can't explain !t to my- self, mind you," sald Gus amtably. “Rut if you want to talk ike a man that has taken @ shoot of dope, that fs your business, But I'll bet you I don't sing the Lorelel, which says in Copyright, 1012, by The Prem Publishing Oo, te a" Now The Alternative. inglish, ‘L don't know why I have been #0 sad yet already.’ My Lena, nothing at me, not week." away, then?" asked But that ain't the real declared Gus stoutly, “I tell you I got a big idear what works fine. Gee! I don't care even if my Lena's mother comes now by the house—me they never say a word to. And, mind .— THE FIRST VICTIM. fp OFTEN, 915, 7 The Freee Potaianing Oo. oo Beerepeg) By Eleanor Schorer (The New York 2 | ct Womenheartbrealers FIIAAMAAAAAKASSAABSABABAABSBRM SSRN Mr. Jarr Seeks for the Secret of Non-Combatant Married Life. SKB SBS SSS SHB HB SS SE SS you, it ts ch does her good. “I fail to grasp your meaning with any enlightening degree of clarity,” said Mr. Jarr. “Clarity aln'® got nothing to do with it" said Gus, “Lightning ain't got nothing to do with st, and, best yet, I don't have to die nor nobody I like don't have to die. Strangers will do. Only, maybe, it won't work for you if| “All I know is that I have found a way you don’t read it in the German news-| that my Lena gets rids of all her cry- v ings. When she cries she 1s happy, and yet, and the fresh air papers, not German newspapers what 1s printed in Germany, but German newspapers in this town or in Saint Looey, if you live in Saint Looey.” “Be a good fellow and give us an in- sight into the great secret of how to he happy though married, Gus," he pleaded, ‘Oh, I ain't saying you'll get happy when you get married,” replied Gus. Ctrl W HEN a man marries, it is thing or a “good thing,” Brains necessarily you find it, A man never notices his wife's the matter with Perhaps marrie effect, just in orde wants what she gets, “He wae going to deed me a for- ridden” oF “We could have rodet” é “Bs ¢ ‘ lady when they meet, or is it the lady's mace to bow frat? ~ will? the ‘deed,’ hey?” a __ hae durat, , 1912, by The Prem Publishing Co, (The New York World), and beauty are an impossible combination in a woman; not | Sitting here enchoying yourself fight- impossible to find, Algernon, but impossible to live with, after, ed women so soon acquire that dowdy to attract a husband's attention, Why should wives wear wedding rings as a mark of distinction? You| “Well, my Lena is always out te can always tell a married woman by the way in which a compliment or a word of flattery goes to her head and makes her positively dizay. This 18 the time of year when a man goes to Europe and spends hig Oonton Hill and get a good cry and a| time hunting for an American dar, drinks anything that looks like a cock- £004 Tide, and she comes home and tail, pursues anything that looks like an American girl, and gets down On qausraat hia knees to anything that looks like an American bathtub, Nobody knows eroctly what he wants in a life-partner, but a wise man tries to get what he thinks he wants, and a wise girl tries to think she ana she treats me like @ friend all | The only way to interest a normal girl in the Ant-Man Movement 48\ way, to have a lot of good-looking specimens of the brutal sex at all the meetings. | papers every day and pick out a funeral | There may be nothing in tt, but it's rather embarrassing when the man wha, in the tenderness of parting, went off with your gloves in his pocket, areas ana enchoy herself crying. I ‘lon't accidentally returns you another girl's in their place, now I got a way that she can get ery mitout first ving to get mad at me. That's the to do it, Mit wim. men, being mad {s caused by water on the brain. “When they cry it takes the water off the brain; then they are all right for a while. But it's getting an oxcuse ‘at home for getting the water off the |brain through the eyes by a fight mit her husband what makes all the trouble, Of course, one way is to start a fuss mit your wife, but that don't do no gogd because that's the very thing you don't want. All I am afraid of {s that, maybe, this will be a healthy summer for Germans, And my Lena, being from Hoboken, where her mother lives, don't know any Irishers or Eyetallaners at all. “I read in the Staats Zeitung about old man Hausradt dying by Oonton Hill, and I see my Lena !s going to pick a fight mit me and T say ‘Shame on you! usually in order to get either a play- ing mit me when old Mr. Ludwig! Hausradt, what started your father in bnsiness driving @ brewery wagon, 1s dead by Oonlon Hill, You should go to his funeral, your mother should go, | ‘and the Lutheran cemetery it ‘8 | nice long rite, and there will be auto- mobiles, maybe; as his boy Heinle has ‘a automobile business by Oonlon Hill.’ appearance unless there is something have a good time where she can cry plenty, and she hurries over to Ho- \boken and gets her mother, who en- choys funerals, too, and they go to talks pleasant to me how old man didn't leave hardly any | \money, and how the family, mit |prothers-in-law and sisters-in: has! ‘been fighting and crying, and the water, was all off her brain through her eyes | evening."* “Well,” said Mr. Jarr, “that's only one evening.” said Gus, “But I read the of people I say I know or maybo je! \yelations to our relations, and now she! don't do nothing but ride in her black | ‘eat in my vest no more, beca: Im tune, Now he says he'll bequeath : wearing crape on my coat sleeve, an me Insti ‘ | eu ai Rete te tale tha for Divorce is the parachlte that tets us down easily after love's balloon ite ie Tans [oem Bet ihe Soraia vam i" | OR (Quis Or * BY ALBERT PAYSON TEE OrY eveuganon SCHORER =. Copyright, 1912, ty The Prew Publishing Co, (The New York ee! No. 14.—LOLA MONTEZ; Whose Beauty Upset aA GIRL—beautiful, graceful, daring—billed as “Lola MX Dancer,” made her much-heralded frst appearance: don audience one night in 1843. As she pirouetted amid @ tumult of welcome, a voice from a stage disgust: e“Why, it’s Betty James!” And at once the applause changed to a storm of hissing. the curtain, with Lola Montez raging hysterically on one side audience chattering in noisy excitement on the other. Thus forts of a world-famed heartbreaker to capture the British Maria Dolores Hliza Rosanna Gilbert was the name started life in 1818. At various times and through vario added to this long name the cognomens James, Heald, Hull { more. Her father is said to have been Lord Byron. Her alone in the world when Dolores was a mere baby. The child received a 004 education. When she was sixteen her mother tried to force herto macry &@ gouty old Judge who had fallen hopelessly in love with her. The girl bated the idea, To escape euch a fate she eloped with one of the numerous wooers who were her fascinated slaves. ‘The man with whom she ran away was Capt. James of the English army. They were married and sailed for India. There James and she quarreled afd parted. After some lively adventures, which included an elopement With.e Hob Planter, the wife managed to wheedle a relative into giving her $5,000 to get rid of her; and with this sum she left the Orient. Stopping tn Spatr fens enough to learn something about dancing and to acquire a Spanish age: went on the stage as “Lola Montea, @panish Dancer.” Her dapik (bea ¢ ead sinuous grace bore out the title, . Hissed by the London public she found herself with no way of making @ living. She even is for pennies in the streets of Brussels. Later she wert to Poland. Failing there as a dancer, she went to Paris, where she posed ad Li an exiled Polish patriot. ‘The public again hiss In fury she hurled b slippers across the footlights at them. They applauded the babys of temper. And from that moment the French capital was at her feet, Balzao, Dumas, Dujarrier and a score of other celebrities vied for her favor. Dusarrier was Killed in a ducl that rose partly from a quarrel about he And Lola thought it best to leave France, She went to Berlin whe! ted a furore at @ court entertainment by refusing to dance until t sonally brought her a glass of water to which he had In Munich she King Ludwig I. of Bavaria. Th h became her cringing ador He gave her the titles of Baroness von Rosenthal and Countess von Landfeldt, built her a magnificent house and settled on her @ Pension of $10,000 a year. She meddled in Bavarian politics to such a dise astrous extent that in 188 there Was a revolution. ‘The mob stormed her house, Lola stood on the steps and emptied a pistol into the crowd. Just then, the King, on horseback, at the head of his guards, rode up and rescued her But the revolution forced him to give up his throne and it drove Lola from Bavaria, ‘Mhepce (as all continental countries were now closed to her) she drifted to England where she married an army officer named Heald. Her first husband threatened sult for bigamy. Lola soon left Heald and came to New York, Here, she danced at the old Broadway Theatre and acted in “Maxeppa” an@ in one or two plays founded on her own adventures, But she was a failure. She wrote a beauty culture book to eke out her scanty funds; then travelled from place to place lecturing, Afterward she visited Australia at last settled for awhile in California, There she was m 4 twice in rather quick succession, one of her two California hUsbands being Hull, a pioneer newspaper ow Finally she came back to New York and proclaimed herself a true penitent, She took up rescue work among women and did much good, She had alway@ Deen generous and in her days of affluence had given large sums to the poor, Now, she was also giving her work and her brains to thelr betterment, Bub her health fatled, She went to Astoria, L. [., to a sanitarium, where, in 1861, she died, So impoverished was she at the time of her death that people im the neighborhood are sald to i1se raised funds to bury her, The body of Lola Montez Hes in Greenwood Ce not very far from the Thirty-sixth street entrance, All that remains of the once-notorious hearte breaker and throne-wrecker ts a plain headstone with the dimmed inscriptions “Mra, za Gilbert, Died June 16, 1861, if 7A POCKET 161, Why are thunderstorms nore frequent in summer than in winter®, 162, Why does meat spoil when left exposed to the moon's raya? 163, Why is the temperature of islands more regular than that of tha, mainland? 16}, Why does flannel keep the body warmer than do most other fabrics 165, What are the fireballs that sometimes fall to carth during @ thune derstorm? aged HE foregoing queries will be answered Monday. Here are the replies t@ Wednesday's questions 156, (Why {8 a flash of Mghtning usually followed by a downpour @@ rain?) The flash changes the condition of the air and makes it unable to bad ‘je former aywunt of Water ip solution, So part of this water descends in hetiyy, rath, ‘ 151, (Why are factory chimneys built so high?) The’higher the chimney, thé greater the draught and thus the hotter the fire, 158, (Why does oll on the surface prevent water from freezing?) Oil ts a bad conductor of heat, and therefore prevents the heat's escape from the watem bes neath, 169. (Why do wet feet or wet clothes cause a,coll''?) The water's evaporation absorbs 6o much heat from the surface of the body that the body's temperature 1 dangerously lowered, 100, (Why are brunettes less likely to be sunburned than are blondes?) Dari skins absorb the heat. White skins cannot so easily absorb it, and the Reng burns and bilsters them. is |