The evening world. Newspaper, August 1, 1919, Page 13

me FR.DAY, AUGUST 1, 1919 Summer Girls of 1919 DIAGNOSED BY A DICKEY-BOY’S DIARY Coprrigit, 1019, by The Press Publidhing Co, (The New York Brening World), No. 5—The Fiction Girl AUG. 1. HE summer house of the inn is always occupied by a cute little ae minx called Grace. This is my latest and greatest discovery. She sits and reads fiction all day, books and magazines. I asked her to read me a good love story 6o I could have an excuse to sit and look at her. She started one, reading the last chapter first. always read backwards like a Chinaman?” I protested. “I imagine I am the heroine of every story I read,” she replied, “and I want to find out whom I marry in the énd. It makes it more interesting to meet my ‘husband’ when I start in to read at the be- ginning then.” “You must have married a lot of heroes this summer,” I remarked at the profusion of literature about her. “Jilson, the husband of one of the porch dowagers, says that you never find girls in real life as perfect as the authors make them. He says that | ll love propaganda “t get a man hooked for a wedding trip that ends up as a lecture tour.” y Ignorant Essays ‘ment “I wonder if my ‘heroes’ would talk like that after they had been married to me twenty years?” Grace laughed. “There is only one way to find out,” I suggested. “Get married. I know a man not « thousand miles from this spot who would be willing to tell you what he thinks about you twenty years from now, And that’s not fiction.” She gathered her magazines at this, preparing to leave. “Is our story ‘to be continued?” I asked. “To be concluded,” she laughed, and disappeared. By J. P. McEvoy Copyright, 1919, hy ‘The Press Publishing Co, (The New York Hrening World), SPEECHES SPEECH ts a one-sided to Choke Off a Public Speaker” A conversation hollered in would be infinitely more popu- a loud voice at people lar, not to say humane. We will who never did a thing to de- send you our never-failing recipe serve it. Sometimes there are upon receipt of two cents in gestures, such as pounding with bills, For an additional’ dime one fist, or holding the left hand we will tell you how to dispose over the watch and pointing the of the remains. right at the gallery. Sometimes After-dinner speeches are the the indigestion is held with one easiest to make and the most hand while the adenoids are painful to listen to. If you are gently stroked with the other, on the receiving end you need or vice versa, But anyway, ges- no instructions on how to act. It tures are all alike in one re- will be sufficient to let your con- spect: they don't mean any- science be your guide, How- thing. ever, if you must make one of There are many breeds of these speeches, remember al- speeches. Most of them have ways to begin by saying: “I rattles and are extremely pol- sonous. There is the Commence- Address which, as the name {mplies, is all “commence” and no “finish.” There is the didn't expect to be called upon and I have nothing to say. This reminds me of a story about two Czecho-Slovaks named Pat speech of introduction in which the introducer takes twenty- minutes of the thirty allotted to the speaker to introduce him, meanwhile telling all the stories the speaker had intended to use. And there is the banquet speech which was bad enough when we eould conveniently stun our- selves with highballs, but now wheti we have to go under tho operation without an anaesthetic gosh, how we dread it! Also there is the funeral oration, in which the truth has to take an awful lot of punishment, Still, there is a comforting eide to the funéral speech: the principal at- traction can't hear @ word of it, and each of us will some day get our tum to be that lucky bird, Lessons may be taken by mail on “How to Become a Public Bpeaker,” but a course on “How a ® and Mike.” Now go on until exhausted or overtaken by the police, —_—- AN ARTFUL BLUFFER, OOL as an iceberg is @ certain old boatman, and it is doubtful if an earthquake would startle him. One day, using his oar as a puntpole, he was just pushing off with a boat load of trippers when a timid young jady remarked that she hoped there was no danger. “No, miss,” said the boatman, “there ain't nothin’ to be afeared of when I'm aboard. Twenty odd yeara I've sailed this bout and never had 4p accident but once, and that wasn't serious, Ye gee, I wor just shovin' off in this very boat when the oar broke and I lost it. Five years ago that wor, an’ I've never seen that oar agin from that day to"-—— At that moment the oar he was using slipped to the bottom and the boatman fell overboard with a splash, When he scrambled into the boat again he was the coolest Individual on board. “It just struck me,” he said coolly, “to have another look for that there oar, but I don’t see nowt of it,”— London Tit-Bita, haa i aa nin nal ll ola al obs 4 tills Rial By Marguerite Mooers Marshall OW a boy who was down came Up; how @ boy who was out came back; how ® bad boy made good' with the help of a wid- owed mother, @ slender, red-haired |sister and his own inimitable pluck, ‘energy and generous heart; how a one-time gangster and incorrigible not only rehabilitated himself and his family fortunes but quietly, steadily, [loyally offered rehabilitation to the ‘friends who had joined him.in law- |fouting—that 1s the truly remarkable " yone inspiring story of the late Thomas Francis Smith—once “Tanner” Smith —who was shot dead in the club he had founded for youngsters with no other “hang-out” but the street, and whose funeral the high, the humble and the every-day folk of Chelsea district on the west side met to do him honor, | Because of all the cynics who say, | “they never come back,” because of all the discouraged, proud, stubborn | boys who believe it, who believe mis- takes, arrests, even prison terms are never to be lived down, the story of Thomas Smith—he and his people wanted the name “Tanner” forgotten with the old, unhappy, far-off days when it was bestowed—ought to be told as his sister, Mrs. Mary Markey, told it to me the day after her brother’s funeral in the dining room “Do YOu {of nis fat at No, 334 West 14th Street. She is a trig, slight, intelligent young woman of medium height, with long-lashed black eyes which also look mournfully from under her sev- enty-four-year-old mother’s worn, wet lids, but with her own thick, wavy, tawnily red hair, the hair of a person with will power and dynamic energy. There are these who s#ay..she, was the motive power who started brother Tom en the right road, and, after seeing her, I believe them, “Tom,” she summed up, “for almost six years was absolutely straight and, more than that, he did everything for the boys here in the district to make them straight. I don’t claim for him anything he was not, but I d> think if anybody ever earned a medal he should have had one pinned on him for his life since be started right at twenty-four. He was only thirty when they killed him. “You know where he was killed— in the Marginal Club. He opened that club himself, he worked over it night after night when he had come home tired out from his busi- ness, he paid every dollar of the ex- pense—all so that the boys in this neighborhood could have @ place where they could enjoy a little de- cent fun, He wouldn't go over to the Knights of Columbus or any of the swell clubs he might have joined because he said he didn’t want his neighbors to think he was getting a swelled head. Instead he kept run- ning this club for the boys around here. “Tom knew what happens to young fellows with no place but the streets and no lawful way of working off their energies. You know what it's Uke to bring up boys here in the city? Tom began drinking when he was eighteen and he got into bad company. That was the whole trouble. ‘Then the cop on the corner would say something to him and Tom would hand him something back, He would always fight for himself; he wasn’t the sort to take things lying down. Because he had pluck and will power and initiative and executive ability he became the leader of his gang.” About the arrests and convictions of “Tanner* Smith I didn’t ask his sister to talk, New York has been reminded recently how he was indeed a “gang leader," an “incorrigible,” how he was sent to prison for clashes with policemen—and New York knows how all that old, bad record has been splendidly expunged. What I did ask Mrs, Markey was how Thomas Smith reformed, what defi- nitely swung him over the dividing line between a lawbreaker and a good citizen, “When he was in the reformatory on Hart's Island,” she exclaimed, “he (got away trom his bad companions—he couldn't get away from them as long as he stayed where he lived. Superin- tendent Moore told me the other day how good he was at the reformatory, Mother and I used to go and see him as often as we could, and we told him that if he misbehaved he would be denied our visits and so wouldn't get any more good eats. “Then when he came out of prison $ Keep Neighborhood Boys Out of Trou | | the last time father had died. And mother told him that if he didn't straighten out and get a job she would do something dreadful.” Then came a dramatic interrup- tion. The sorrowful old mother, sit- ting quietly in one corner of the room, lifted her head and her grief- dulled eyes suddenly blazed. “I told my eon," @he said tensely, “that if he did wrong again I should g0 up to the roof of the house and throw myself down on the pave- ment—and that he could pick up my broken body.” The room was still for a moment while all of us visualized the tragic figure making her last, most des- perate appeal. “Yes, mother said that," Mra, Markey again softly took up the| story, “And it changed Tom. This Was in 1913, He took a job as a beef| handler and worked hard, He had natural executive ability and before long he had a business of his own. Then he began hiring his old friends, the boys with whom he had got into trouble in times past und whom he had known in prison, He put them on as beef handlers first. If they made good, showed up punctually and worked hard, they were made fore- men and put in charso of a gang of| men, When he died he had twenty] of these foremen. Then, after three years, those who were doing well were given stock in the business to encourage them and stimulate their interest, So they did wonderful work for him, “very Christmas he gave his fore- men $50 in gold and a big box| of linen handkerchiefs ang socks.) Never an old associate came to him with a hard luck tale but Tom would lend him money, and at the same | time say, ‘Why don’. you take a job? | Don't you want to work? He was continually getting jobs for boys who had been trouble makers or who wore lkely to get into scrapes if they were idle, “Of course he had to stand behind bis foreman, but I know of at least one instance where Tom got a job with somebody else for a boy one of his foremen fired for some fault. Tom was convinced that boys ought to have more than one chance, “When young men around here got into, trouble with the police Tom would try to get them out He has gone bonds hundreds of times, and never taken @ dollar a9 bondsman, He recently put up $16,000 of the money, for which he had worked so hard to get a friend out of trouble. because the latter promised to go straight if he were given one more chance. That fellow rode in the funeral procession and cried like a child and said, ‘I've lost my last chance now.’ “He came to me during the war and showed me $50,000 in Liberty bonds he had bought. “What do you think, Mary,’ he laughed, ‘I've bought every bond from the cops.’ The Regeneration of a Gang Leader How “‘Tanner’’ Smith, Gangster at Eighteen, Sent to Reformatory as Incorrigible, Went Straight, Stayed Straight, and Made Fortune in Business. Mother’s Threat and Sister’s Will Made Him Reform—In Turn He Helped Others, Formed Club to ble and Was Killed by Friend He Had Aided. Look Over Your Pantry; It Holds All You Need ~- ToMake Your Own’ HERE ARE SOME SIMPLE _RECIPES ' . FOR MAKING DRINKS WITH A KICK HEN old Mother Hubbard searched the butler’s pantry she may have found it bare indeed of food for the dog. But if the yellow 014 sugar bow! still rested on ita accustomed shelf, if there was — an empty catsup bottle beside it, and a few ‘apples of raisins, she could have made for herself an alocholic beverage that would have set her ing in her old age. well ‘en ws hibitioniet, And, if im addition to what the shelf ordinarily holds, there is credit at the corner grocery store, the poagibitities are Umitless. A little time, a little patience, and one might make—even in the sacred kitchenette of William H. Anderson—forty kinds of drinks filled with the poetry of « French wine cellar and the kicking vigor of a Liberty motor, While the sun continues to shine upon the earth, warming the sceds beneath it# surface, all the amend- ments of ali the Constitutions of all the nations cannot prevent mankind from drinking wine, or even ¢he golden brandy that the French call the “water of life.” A single grape contqins all that le necessary—for @ lithtted quantity, One might use more grapes, ‘The Scipntific American Publishing Company has just published @ “best seller,” by Albert A. Hopkins, It ts called “Home-Made Beverages.” Al- most half of the volume is devoted to the magic of tranamutatiop. From potatoes. and dried prunes and mo- lasses and apples and rhubarb and honey and dandelions and figs end lemons and even parenips and tur- nips one may evoke the spirit of al- cohol that lives in every grain of sugar, . ‘The way to, go about it, if you wish to fill your cellar with wines and liqueurs, is to begin with the simpler beverages that can be made in a few days, then make the finer kinds that improve with age, Thus you will have quickly—in a few weeks at most wines that wili do very nicely to keep the throat slakod while you wait for the better ones to mature, After a supply of clarets and other light beverages has béen bottled, she finer ones may be made at leisure, even champagne, and as the dry years go/ by the contents of your, cellar will become more and more precious, ————_ ee ble acid ingredients, whieh oling to the sides of the ensk. ' Having made enough of the “wood- leas” wine to cover emergencies, the | £ fie a m; iE Li HOME-MADE CLARET. reety ‘ So let ys start, ae Omar did, with fermen-’ the grape. We shall make some ie the ot ‘apple claret, following one of the formulae i of the book. gall thé best Get @ stone jar and put twenty | cider you get or make, Put into pounds of good ripe grapes in it.|it fifty pounds of brown sugar (fer Pour im six quarts of boiling water and .wait for the mixture to cool until your bare hand can bear the temperature, Put both hands in an | £ | i 5 g zhi | i E ee $ ag af & “I'm mighty glad to hear it, Tom,' I said, ‘for it shows you're on good terms with them at last.’ “He did everything for bis family— he really has been a father to us all from the time father died. He was going to buy a country home on Long Island for mother, and he had bought 4 car and made us lovely presents of Jewetry.” It ta estimated that Thomas Smith ‘was worth $100,000 of honestly earned money at the time of bis murder. “He believed in work,” Thomas Smith's gister ended simply, “and in lots of chances for every boy, and im sticking to old friends and not having a swelled head and in helping people instead of preaching at them. Do the lives of most of the ninety- and-nine of us who never have gone astray attain this clear and simple virtue? juice and let it stand a ment, By this time the mixture will be covered wit which must be skimmed admit a ttle air until the fermenta- tion is complete, Then tighten the corks and lay the bottles on their sides in @ cool place, It will be noticed that in the form- ula fust given there is no provision the wine “in wood.” Justice needs no defense. Think it over, but remember Man” sing off key. loudest about the “Brotherhood ef Often thoce who sing the thou” attitude. , It ts the “holier than Fr that the working man resents, | or intentional forgetfulness . It ts this forgetfulness— they started at the bottom. a z drinkable wine quickly, But @ betver wine does require @ period in the wood, because the wood takes from the beverage some of its lesg destra- Fashions for Mister Man He Has His Modes as Well as Milady and Here Are Some Hints for Him. By Margaret Rohe G 00d wite are as nothing in a man's life compared to a good taflor. Even a self-made man, if he be wise,ends by being a tailor-made man Almost every man, though he may not care to admit it, owes almost every- thing to his tallor, as a glance over said tatlor’s books undoubtedly would reveal, It’s really not so much a question of what @ man shall put on these days, however, as what he may put off, With all the girls shedding gar- ments in reckless abandon to the fore and aft of them—petticoats, stocking» and gloves—it certainly seoms as if poor mere man ought to be allowed @ little abandon on his own account. One of the sizeling nights last week wilted New York sat wp and took notice of three brash, not to say rash, South Americans who appeared at @ root show all dolled up in perfect In- formal summer evening attire. ‘They forgetful of the fact that employers—utterly themselves in the class of and employee and found the chasm between employer OOD fortune, good health and a| bow ties. irreproachably pressed trousers, soft pleated white silk shirts and black All complete save for one little detail, Instead of the conven- tional dinner coat, the only coat each wore was one of tan, Now this though thin apparel was really a bit too thick, Even thougi. you panted with the heat, convention as well as fashion insists that you be coated as well after 6 P, M, in the public eye. Negligee shirts sans coats were quite de rigueur at the ringside of the Willard Dempsey fight, but ax the height of taste and fashion at a roof garden they are much too low. , Still Monsieur Le Mode, who tyran- nizes as completely over his male minions as Mme, La Mode does over her feminine ones, seems bieased with « fow humanitarian qualities, He tends more and more toward comfort and common sense in male attire euch successive season. Hence the gradual disappearance of the stiff choker col- lar, the stiff bosomed shirt and the padded shoulder, lars are low and comfortable, whether they be the turn-over brand or the winged variety. Dinner jackets of Ughtweight porous fresco cloth are permissible for all but the most | formal of summer evening functions, and here's where man may actually shed something, even if jt isn't his | cont. His lightweight unlined dinner |jacket with its shawl collar of black satin is so constructed that it may be Worn guiltless of & waisteoast. To be sure the coat discreetly keeps itself close buttoned #0 a8 not to reveal un- duly its waistooatiess condition, but thanks to this altruistic hot weather fashion, there are as many correctly and comfortably garbed walstcoatless men these summer evenings as there are coolly chic petticoatiess women. With such # long stride taken in tho direction of comfort, who knows but that the next step in the emancipation of the male from sartorial serfdom will follow further In the footateps of the more freely frocked feminine so that he may yet bob his trousers wore well Otting pumps, silk hose,| Now even for evening wear the ool-|even ap she bas ber skirts, \ ¥ from the ranks passed over Many men rising standard, worth has been the because wealth and not together. ‘This has been changed upon the fact that all worked America were built up ‘The great fortunes of 5 or otherwise, by premiums, bonuses other fellow—whether reach down and help the The successful man must which are offered employees bonuses—stock opportunities ‘We see thin in premiums— the new order of things. ' mit me to call your attention ta! labor study them: I suggested that elves—per- : employers of * p - wherein my th ‘of Wednesday EAR F DS: Continuing: GOING UP} ”