The evening world. Newspaper, February 23, 1916, Page 14

Che ay Wiorld, ESTABLISHED DY JOSEPH PULITZER. One Month VOLUME 56.. POPULAR GOVERNMENT LOST ? One Month Club? The Senator from Massachusetts celebrated Wash- ; imgtees’s Birthday by lamenting before the Washington Asso- | ciation at Morristown the loss of that Popular Government which the '' Father of his Country founded for its everlasting good. Y! Mr. Lodge also finds that when the opinions of Washington or * Linooln are quoted to-day Amocricans are inclined to feel that “al- © though they were undoubtedly remarkable men in their time, they can * hardly be compared with the master minds engaged in undoing their + work, and, moreover, that everything has altered since they flourished.” In what sunless, sound-proof caverns has the Senator been sit- ting? When in three generations has the country discussed a crisis with more frequent and enthusiastic reference to the words and warn- ings of its first President? When has the memory of Lincoln been oftener or more reverently invoked as an example to the statesmen upon whom the country depends for guidance? As for popular government, the Government of the U has never shown itself more conscious of the hundred million people whose will it exists to carry out. The President has spared no effort to talk to them, to urge upon them their supreme power and responsi- bility. Even Congress is listening to those it represents with an at- , tentiveness and respect it has not always shown. Tn the face of a great issue, those in office, instead of trying to drive the vation, are doing their best to get the nation to express ® itself in sober thought and decision on the part of every individual * citizen, Was Washington’s popular government a different brand? Y ford, Conn., which killed nine and injured many more, is pretty sure to be investigated with extra thorougliness by the road itself. During the last two years and a half the New Haven has worked hard to get away from its past and be once more a railroad. Only a ‘few days ago its new President, Howard Elliott, told the public that 4 sifice he took office no passenger had lost his life in a New Haven “wreck. The Milford accident comes as a reminder that good railroad }{ management can never relax its vigilance. r The smash-up at Milford was first of all a rear-end collision. A ‘ special accommodation train ran into the rear end of a halted express » and a freight train running on the next track struck the hurtling . cars and added to the wreckage. » When the express stopped the local was “unexpectedly close be- “hind.” So close that the flagman who ran back from the express ‘, was run down and killed by the engine of the oncoming local. ha Why was one moving train “unexpectedly close behind” another? c ‘The old, old question that is always put too late—over the debris THE NEW HAVEN ACCIDENT. ESTERDAY’S train wreck on the New Haven line near Mil- hp SOMETHING EVERY ONE SHOULD KNOW. HE fire in a West Forty-fourth Street rooming house yesterday morning, in which five lives were lost, appears to have made n a furnace of the place before an alarm was turned in, Yet} ithe building was close to Broadway, in one of the most frequented + centres of the city, and it was after 7 o’clock in the morning when ~ the fire broke out. . The first man who ran to a fire alarm box was 60 excited that he did not pull down the lever far enough to gound the alarm. Ten R minutes elapsed before some one else sent a signal which brought > ‘A few weeks ago an apartment house fire got a number of min- ~, utes’ start because the elevator boy who ran to the corner fire alarm ‘thought opening the door of the box all that was necessary to bring » the fire engines. Every man and woman in the city and every boy and girl over « fourteen years of age ought to know how to send in a fire alarm in the regular w Every elevator boy and doorman on duty at night should be specially instructed how to turn in an alarm from the near- eat box without a second’s delay or the chance of a mistake, Apparently the public needs teaching on this point, and it cannot _ be taught too soon. », Haven has to answer it. % ‘ - Hits From Sharp Wits. Much discontent comes of the men- tal habit to believe that something different would be something better. Albany Journal . . . A man can deceive himself a whole lot quicker than he can deceive the pul Philadelphia Tel h Many a man thinks that because seeing is believing he knows a good thing when he sees it.—Doseret News, reer wer An exchange wants to know what is the most useless thing in the world, Our idea of it is a street © transfer two days old con News, By H. J. Barrett touch upon te por Dollars and Sense “e ERE are a few pointers which @ concern that spends nearly @ million dollars annually has had printed for its staff of ad- vertising writers,” said a business man the other day. “They impre: me as being sufficiently valuable to be worth clipping:” If you want to write vigorous, re- sultful copy, forget your college edu- cation, Use words which Bill Tomp- kins, the plumber, will grasp, and Prof. Diggus Dirtum will get your meaning. And there are more plumb- ers than professors. Ust three-syllable words ratier than four, and one or two-syllable ratber nm three, Don't land your heaviest blow in the first paragraph. Knockouts are m scored in the opening round. Shve @ wallop for your climax. you write a line put your- self in the reader's place. The angu- ' mente which would sell you may not be those which would sel! him, en come to pump them, “If our sulesmen Soves write as weil as you they'd be worth twice your salary in your Job. "They know, where you have to guess. Find out the nature of the objections they meet and geek to overcome them. sql Quizzing salesman don't ‘say, Have you any good suggestions tot our spring campaign?” Ho hasnt But muke him talk about how ho finally sold old inan Simpson, who yhad turned him down for years, aod {@ real sales pointer will crop out jot writing copy remember that mi }° our ammunition ig aimed « sinall business man. We coves {he big plants in person. Mstabsish a real | Point of contuct with the liLue fle i +2o09% eevee 2° ver writ without cons ean “ad.” for a medtam ulting your file of “adg,"" which have appeared in that meatumn, Analyze and tabulate your talking points. Feature one in one issue; ane > other in another. The reade: %,' 1 Dow’ ty to develop too many| be uniinpressed by your frat mnt points in one piece of copy. Select|or five “ads.” lie ‘sixth one may § line of argument—develop it fully, sinke the vital point of contac Company, Nos. $3 to aaer4 at the at New York an Second-Class Matter. Subscrip: Rater to ie For England and the Continent and + ‘World for the United States All Countries in the Inter: and Canade. Postal Union. ‘ | One Year. $8.60] One Year.. § AS Henry Cabot Lodge joined the “O tempora! O mores!” ited States | 2 of charred wood, twisted steel and mangled bodigs. Again the New i The Evening World Da | i | i} An Experienced Dog-Catc “4 MAY ily Magazine, Wednesday, February 23, 1916 se nnnnnnnnnnnennnnnnrwnnnnannnnnnnnnnnnnannnnannnnnnnnnnnnnnanrafe her —— By Bide 66QVAY,” suid Lucille, the wattress, as the newspaperman dropped a lump of sugar in his coffee, “do I look like a depot for the distri- bution of sympathy?” “Why, no, I guess not," he replied “Well, there's a lot of peoplé com in here who think Iam,” she contine ued, “Just takes a seat at the counter, puts his head in his hands and says he hasn't Lucile, the Waitress Dudley — Copyright, 1916, by The Pres Publishing Co, (The New York Hvening World), Ye got it,’ I says, ‘but nachur- the help eats it ourselves. ‘Oh, but I'm feeling frappe,’ ho goes on. “Listen, kid, it gets me so angry 1 swap him with Dolores, the red-head, for a quiet fellow with a big nose, Whaddye know about all this sym- pathy thing I run against?” “It looks as though you're the sym- this morning a fellow] pathy goat around here? I sure am. I never want any for myself; so why should the buyers want it from me? Honest, kid, some- the other | att most | slept none because of insomnibus. I) times they hand me so many bids for know him and I could seo he had been SymPaRhy, that nf get all, tired out. out hitting it up all night. So I just|!'m that way right now n't you a says, ‘Why not go home nights?” He| little bit sorry for m |i —— By Roy L. he Jarr Family McCardell Copsright, 1916, by The Pree Publishing Co, (‘Tae New York Evening World), “ ELL, what's on the pro- Mr, Jarr when Mrs, Jarr informed him she was going down- town with him. “Im to meet Mrs. Stryver and do some shopping,” said Mrs. Jarr, “and then we are going to an auction sal “Oh, you are, are you?” asked Mr, Jarr. “Well, don't you think that we have about all the things we need? And if we should need anything what's the use of getting robbed at an auction?” st jooks up at me like a dying calf and says to not kid him, please. “Oh, but I feel bad,’ he re-ister- ates, I'm still the crool woman with the heart of curbstone. You mean you feel badly,’ I says. You see, kid, I learned that in school, badly being the proverb antedating the adjective, He wouldn't argue, All he says was that 1 was @ vicious siren. “I'm a what" I ask. + “‘A siren,’ suys he, No. 10. | DAM, Virst aud Only Man for Me—I have decided it vas not “Now listen, friend!’ T says. "Please the serpent who destroyed ‘the don't cali me no fire department ; ws whistle nor nothing, as you seem iness of our Illustrious first par- prome to, Remember, I'm a poorjents. It the fact that Eve was working girl trying to earn an bon- est dollar—in tips.” 1 put in the part about the tips to jog his memory a bit. “ ‘But,’ he renunciates, ‘I'm sleepy.’ “CAM right” 1 tell him, *You just set where you're at and I'll have your berth made up. In the mean time | let's start the lazy old chef to fussing | about, What will you silp the inert) j man?” | “He looks at me mighty mournful, ‘What's good to eat when you're dy-| | ing for sleep" he asks. | | “How about a fricassee of pillow- | } slip or a hunk of mutt medium? 1! |ask, Well, sir, that fellow gets sore and | bored. If the ker of Paradise had not been the serpent it might have been the grocer’s boy. Of course Adam was bored, too, But he belonged to the conventional sex, the sex that stays put matrimonially until some. wre! buccaneering lady ellmby aboard its h art, hoists the black flag over her 4 id then makes the other poor ain, walk the Adam was a 6, like every one sters, conceded the right nd to bully her, neglect her, but not’ to bore 1 am ‘sure, was a bore. plank. moral being of ber dau of her hush her, browbeat h Adam, goes out. When he's gone Juliette,| Now, in marriage the unforgivable the blonde-aw-natural head waitress,| sin is to be boring, And, as matri- comes to and says: ‘What did/ mony is practised among us, Adam, that guy want’" there is bo Way for either ‘man: or “"He acted like he wanted a bed,’ 1] woman to escape that manifest | says. destiny. “Well, well!’ says Juliette, ‘| “Whom God hath joined let no | thought he looked somnambulous. hostess put asunder.” 1 read that somewhere It's not original from the start conspiracy to Wrock the happiness of two young creatures who love and have married each other, for the world regards them, soclally, as Siamese twins, And she who cuts the mystic membrane by trying to invite one-half of the twin to 4 dinner party without the other is guilty of a crim. inal operation in the eyes of their friends—-worst of all, in the eyes of the unfortunate twins themselves, At least the eyes of one of the twigs. | “Now me and Juliette ain't the very | best of friends, kid, and when she pulls it on ine I give her a sideways flash of my eyes and says: ‘Back to the paper napkin ostablishment for you, girlie! You know us waitresses | ain't equipped with dictionaries in this human fuel oasis,’ “Strange to say, she never got mad, ‘Well,’ she says, ‘I guess you're even with me now. Dissect that oasis | thing, please.’ ""An oasis is & bunch of grass on | the eurth's bald head,’ [ retaliate. | “*All right,’ she says. ‘Have it your The whole world, | n way. And away she goes.| Mor tho destiny that shapes our ends retty soon another customer looks|decreés that the conservative man me and says bis stomach's aba lev> the reckless woman who die wunte » [4ppals him and enthralls him, Worse ‘Darn it!’ ‘Now you've| yet, that there shall be something in spoiled iny whole duy,’ his steadfastness, in the very narrow- “Don't Kid me," he answers, ness of his nature which gives her a sense of safety and of happiness even while she le being slowly smothered to death. Sometimes, naturally, it's the man who is smothi who feels fond anms pr ‘What'll 1 do for it? | ‘Lay off the rich food,’ L says, | “He grins. ‘Do you mean to ox- | postulate tbat you've got rich food in ere?’ be demands, ems to enter into a} Leap Year Love Letters From the New Eve to the Old Adam By Nixola Greeley-Smith Copyright, 1016, by The Pres Publishing Co, (The New York Evening World) feathered cushions about bis soul, stifling its outeries, lulling it-into a shameful peace. Hernard Shaw as- sumes that it is always the man. So his men spout in unmanly fashion about woman, the mother, capturing man, the artist, and subduing him to the ends of the Life would be much simple if all men were born all women mothers, in Shaw comedies, Hut there women who are merely artists, there are men who are merely fathers. And the greatest tragedy of life happens when the woman artist is subdued to the rou- tine purposes of mayriage, She does it herself, Her love subdues her But the thought of Ni turning as the wheels of a collar fact: holds no greater incongruity, Woman's love is the greatest force in the world and the most misdirected, And she and man together—-because there is no use in believing that man alone n could have enslaved woman—have harnessed it to the small every-day purposes of physical comfort, comfort as well as his. To the orig- inal curse of Eve man has added a hundred additional curses—the curse of sloth, of intellectual unprepared- nees,of such extreme sex specialization that’ if a woman 1s really womanly there can never be any re d thor- ough emancipation for her. No, never so long as she cares about too fat, or having gray halr, or bothers with any of the other depreciations which time must bring to her as a sex machine. Adam, I don't believe in the curse of Eve, At least, I don't think Hve knew anything about it It is @ horrid tradition wh her sons and dwaghters have bullt about her memory. T ani suro Eve was a pleasant, casual, healthy person, who was in- terested primarily in Cain and Abel, and who probably did not remember having been introduced to Adam when ho caine around to see if his offspring were good to eat. Awful, | suppose But I mean every word of it, and if over take it back don't beliexe me But if I ever make you th. that T do not love you more than all the world, don't believe that ther. her} ot getting 1 “Well, I'm not gotng to buy any- thing to-day,” said Mrs, Jarr, “but Mrs. Stryver is wild about antiques— anything in old mahogany, especi- Jally.” | “So T noticed when we were at the Stryvers' the other evening,” replied Mr, Jarr, “Mrs, Stryver had to fol- can of liquid giue and mend the spindly old chairs and sofas as fast as they were broken.” “Yes, and you broke a chair your- self,” said Mrs, Jarr, “and you didn't laugh about it then. Did you do it on purpos “No, I didn’t" declared Mr. Jarr, “but if you buy any of that rickety old junk and bring it in this house Tl break it!" “You just dare!” replied Mra, Jarr, somewhat heatedly. “Well, you just buy it!” sald Mr. Jarr. "I'd like to see you try it!" sald Mra, Jarr. ‘There's a lovely old sideboard “and dining-room table with six chairs to match to be sold to-day, and I'm going to get them. After they are re- polished and mended and the legs of three of irs ato fixcd and part jof the front replaced on the aside- | board they'll look as good as new, Mrs, Stryver says!” that sort of junk!" remarked Mr. Jarr, “You just get them and you'll |see what will happen!” | He was so wrought up about it that he determined to go to the sale him- self, Mrs. Jarr was not there, which | cooled him down, and then, consider- ing that he had been hasty, if not un- kind, and had kept her from the sale, | he resolved to buy the furniture when it was put up. There was spirited bidding, but Mr. Jarr was determined to get it, and did at a most excessive | price. When he got home to supper he said: “I went to that sale, and be- cause you » so set on having that }old mahogany dining-room set I bought it for yo “Oh, did you?" replied Mrs, Jarr. |"So it was you! One of the friends \of Mrs, Stryver who was there of- fered to buy it in*for me when it was put up, as we wanted to go to a matinee, He just telephoned me that he could have bought the whole set for $10, but some jay came in who appeared to want it so bad the deal- ers ran them up to five times their ue on him just for a joke!” “When the truckman brings it to this house I'll receive that old ma- hogany furniture with an axe!" de- clared Mr, Jarr heatedly, | But he didn’t, He tells people they exe old Colonial heirlooms, low the stout people present with aj| The Stories Of Stories Plots of Immortal Fiction Masterpieces By Albert Payson Terhune Goprright, 1916, by the dress Vubllshing Oo, (Nhe New York Erouing Work)), A MEMORABLE NIGHT; By Anna Katharine Green. ICHARD ATWATER was a young New York doctor. He shared HR house and office on West Twenty-fourth Street, in partnership with an eccentric physician named Richter—a man of mystery, Atwater was hopelessly in love with Dora Blank, and for a while de thought she was beginning to care for him. But @ violent quarrel had lately put a check to his ‘courtship. One afternoon, Atwater could no longer bear the strain of separation from Dora. So he went out to her Orange home to beg forgiveness, There he found she and her mother were in New York for a day’s shopping. Also that she was to sail fur Burope at 9 o'clock next morning. This news was tragic enough for a despairing lover. But when he learned that his rival, Appleby, was to sail on the same boat he realised that his own chances of winning Dora were practically gone. And he hit on the brilliant idea of crossing the ocean with them and of pleading hig ms own cause during the voyage. pier | Tragedy. one" ‘He still had fifteen hours in which to get money am@ to pack and to turn his practice over to Richter, Bo he hurried back to his office, His partner was out. Before Atwater could begin to pack @ messenger ar~ |tived with news that ono of his patients had suddenly fallen very {ll some- | Where on Second Avenue. A carriage was waiting to take him thither. Atwater could ill spare the time for such « call, But be Jumped into the carriage and bade the coachman to drive at top speed, At the Second Ave« nue address a servant conducted him to an upper room. Atwater entered, The door was shut and locked behind him. He found himeelf a prisoner, Ho hammered at the door and shouted. But he could not get out nor attract any one to his aid, Several hours later a man entered the room, jocking the door behind him, Atwater rushed at him tn fury, only to halted by a euddently-leveled pistol. His jailer curtly told the doctor that no harm was intended toward tim: that he was merely in the hands of a group of men who desired tim to stay where he was until the following morning, and that no further explanation could be given. The doctor was invited to make himeelf comfortable, Atwater blustered. He threatened legal puni#hment for any injury that might befall lim, His host merely replied: “Wetdeal punishment, not receive it.” ‘ The captive told of his reasons for wishing to be free in time to take the next day's steamship. He offered his watch and such little money as he had in his pockets as the price of his release, “We have no use for your money,” was the quiet answer, “It ts your soctety that we want.” As the memorable night wore on, Atwater at last fell asleep. When he awoke day had broken, He was alone in the room. ‘The doof was not locked, No one sought to prevent him from leaving the place. He wag too late to arrange for passage on Dora's ship. He had barely time to exchange an unsatisfactory good-by with her before he and the other friends of passengers were sent ashore, H rN Smarting for revenge, he went straight to the po- eooron—n—or" Hee with bis story. So strange was the tale that he | expected to be laughed at. Instead, a detective eaid: | “You have not been home? Come.” z. Ilo convoyed Atwater to the house the doctor shared with Richter. The whole pluce was # smoking ruin. “A tire!” gasped Atwater. “No,” contradicted the detective, “an infernal machine burst in that house last night. Your friend was its victim.” Atwater was too dazed to answer. But dimly he began to realize the debt the owed to his partner's enemies for keeping him from going home on the night when they were to wreak their hatred on Richter and on everything within his house, It almost compensated fot losing the sea trip with Dora. When a Man’s Married — By Dale Drummond — | Copyright, 1916, vy The Prem Publishing Co, (The New York Drening World), | CHAPTER Xt. yiat’s hurry dinner, dear,” be said. ne , “You remember I told you that Mar- HEN Jano awoke the next) ion” pawrence bed come to live im | morning her first emotion, 00! Westiand. I told her I'd bring you to a day that was to be crowd- {ed with emotions of varidus kinds, call on her to-night.” “Where did you see her?” Jane elt oc asked icily. was one of shame She felt cha- “On the shores, Wout grined that she had been unable toleogethers one me | offer her guests of the night before) “That was pleasant for you!” Jane some slnple refreshment. scarcely veiled a sneer. But I can't Robert had said but little, but he}. I—have @ headache,” she edded had plainly been disappointed. He | lamely. was very hospitable as far could afford, Then, too, Jane have to plan for her club lu She hated to ask the tradesmen for] to your club luncheon.” “IT won't have my money wasted on! | more credit, but there’ was no other | way. AS soon as Robert left she took pencil and paper und started to write out her menu, She would have creamed chicken--or, rather, chicken a la king--some nice salad, coffee and cakes. With the candies for the card | | tables, and some salted nuts, it would | be all she would dare attempt. But she must find some one to cook for her, so she went over to consult] iEmma Lovejoy. “Yes, I know # very good woman,” mma told her. “Please give me her address. and see her right away.” “Here it is, only a short walk. Tell her I sent you. Oh, by the way, shall you ask Mrs, Lawrence? You know, a# Mrs. Holbrook is away, you will have to get a substitute,” | “Mrs. Lawrence?” | “Yes, she was one of your husband's | very intimate friends in his bachelor days. So she told me. She's very fascinating, but not as dainty and re- fined as you are.” During Jane's short walk to the house of the cook, she tormented her- self with jealous fears. All day she was in a fever of unrest, When Ro j ert came in she greeted him cold! \Making a Hit vl go At a Turkish Bath, ’ Scone: lounge, room of a Turkish bath ona | ary Weriftana ‘are osirded by women of rartous contours, in loungi Tobes, sipping Miton me Atiero ‘le w decided ‘note ‘ofa tatty in “tbo alt.) RS. A. (leaning toward her nelghbor)--See that one over I there? The fourth from the end, with the pousse cafe hair? Do you know who she is? Maizie Folly, the burlesque queen, who married that young Yale boy last year.” Mrs. B (languidly)—-What makes her hair like that? Mrs, A (eagerly)—Every time she picks out a man to angle for she finds out from one of his intimate friends what type he admires, and by the time she's ready to attack she's that shade—-blonde, brunette, Titlan—as the case may be. But men are fickle and hair dyes uncertain (especia since the war)—hence the Joseph's- coat effect in the color of her hair, Mrs. B (looking around for some one to pick on)—Some women do make fools of themselves for men, don't they? I'd like to see myself! Mrs. A (vehement echo )—I'd like to see myself, too! Mrs. B (continuing)—I come here to | reduce. But do you think I'm redto- ing for any man's aproval? Not much! No, indeed! I'm doing it for my own satisfaction and bodily com. tort. Copyright, 1916, te The Prew Publishing Co, (The New York Pvening Worl > i Selatan che “I suppose you wish you bad mas- ried her instead of me. Emma Love- Joy mays he's sot money.” “Thank you, 1 am perfectly satis. fied with the wife I have.” “Oh, you needn't speak tn thet sar- castic way. I'm eure you wouldn't have spoken #o to that Mrs. Law. rence. Where's MR. Lawrence?” “He died three months after they were married. Poor girll She has just taken off her mourning, so she told_me.” your pity for to “You better save those who need ét! what I hear ahe doesn’t grieve very bee 8 hadn't heard he was dead untfl she told me the other day.” h, then you've seen her at other “Yes, she has been on the train with me once or twice before.” “Well, if you want to go and cal you'll have to go alone! I'm going to bed.” “I'm sorry, dear, but as I promised her I'd come I'll run over for just few moments, 1 won't stay lon and all unsuspecting the and jealousy Jane was feeling Robert left er, (To Be Continued.) By Alma Woodward Mrs, A (faintly)—Me, too. Mrs, B--Now, for instance, there used to be a Spanish-looking woman come here, In her separation auit ahe testified that her husband's love waned every time she weighed, And she made herself a wreck with baths and drugs and !emon juice, gottl thin, Now the man sho has a eru on adores curves; and she Itves on hot chocolate, pork and sweets, Td like to seo myself! Mrs, A (caustically)—Me, too, It’ just because of a few idiots like that tl our whole sex has to suffer and be termed wenk-minded, when, really, most of us are full of commonsense are the sectous things of life, Well, I must be getting along. 1 have a luncheon at two, a fitting at thre bridge at four, dinner at eight, Qance at ten and a slummi: at 1A. M, ne pare evotrd inate Attendant) ¥ enna Mrs, B (hoarse whisper)—Do yeu know her? Does she come dere often? Attendant (tersely)—She's the vl est inhabitant and she'll come here when the place is pointed out as the ruins of a Roman bath, She's been trying to get off sixteen pounds for siseen, in 1 uabanas in the and sui iNOBe—an, models aro slender! rics (passing the wink)—Nuf seaiumnart?