The evening world. Newspaper, August 6, 1919, Page 18

r DNE “Yankee” Doughboys ‘Their Hearts Safe or the Girls at Home ah “Childhood Betrothal,’’ Real Romance in Romany Show Nearly All American Soldiers Who| ‘ = Brought Back Foreign Wives Are Either| © Citizens or Sons of Immigrants, and Most of Them Married Girls of Their Own Former Nationality By Fay Stevenson Coprright, 1919, ty The Pres Publishing Co. (The New York Evening World). of the true blue little American girls who have sewed at the Red Cross, packed goody boxes of homemade fudge, jelly and cake, ‘Written cheery letters to their sweethearts overseas and then gone to bed and wept themselves to sleep for fear these very would come back with a chic French bride Boglish lassie, have fretted and worried in A great many American girls have been “scared WEDNESDAY., AUGUST 6 “Here Comes. the Prince’’ And Here Are “Close-Ups” Of What He’s Really Like How He Looks Cow What He Likes to Do ; His Dominant Traits Cow His War Record By Marguerite Mooers Marshall Copyright, 1919, by The Press Publishing Co, (The New York Evening World), Prince of Wales is on his way! After all the promises and ptedictions, it was only yesterday that His Royal Highness, Edward Albert Christian George Andrew David, heir to the British trone, sailed gut of Ports mouth. Harbor on the battleship Renown, bound for America. In a few days he will be in Halifax, After visiting: Canada he will return President Wilson's visit to his father and mother, King George and Queen Mary, and he also has promised to spend some time in New, York, if in no other American city. q we Picturesque Scenes at Yeadon Camp, Pennsylvania, where American Gypsies, According to Tribal Custom, Last Week Celebrated the Betrothal of Two Juvenile Couples, the Older Sixteen, the Younger Only Fifteen. N &,/ {\i\ \ y the French girls, have been marry- scores. Well, so they have—the 4ist Street and Lexington Avenue is wives who are waiting the discharge of their husbands—but whisper! Nearly all the men who have married these girls from other lands are the boys from FORBIGN parents. They are not our Yankee boys came over on the Mayflower, they are not our New York from fine old Dutch families, nor are they the warm-hearted Southern ‘Most of the names of these |. who have married foreign are just as foreign as the names of their wives! So ‘see, it is usually @ case of like ing like, P Ninety per cent. of the soldiers have returned wtih foreign c are naturalised citizens or the ’ of our immigrants,” said Mrs. nald, director of the Hostess where many of the brides of doughboys stay while awaiting discharge of their husbands from army. “Is it any wonder, then, they fell in love with the girls Some of them are Trusbands are discharged within time, but many have to remain days, and during that time we ; to do a8 much as we can to make | their stay pleasant and profitable. "Phe Belgian and English girls are the y susceptible to our attentions, | we have found many nice, genu- ‘ie right thinking Russian girls. MBince many “of these girls are the type they have no idea of our modern ways of living. they are here we teach them ‘value of the hot path, how to care of their hair, to make nd most important of all, to care for their baubles, Wx- of daby clothes and maternity Ae have been furnished and the | mother's first interest aroused by ” us Eteptasueetty among all these 1,700 | Married couples we have had a good Many mivunderstandings and little Let the Weather ‘tiffs,’ Probably they have not been any more serious than with the ave: age couple after the glamour of the honeymoon is over, But, of course, on the other side many soldiers ‘nave been spoiled, that is, they have had so many free eats and luxuries heaped upon them that they still had plenty of money left to entertain their brides and give them the things boys Hike to lavish upon their sweethearts. When they get to America these treats have to be abandoned in many cases and the bare problems of life faced, Many of the soldiers’ wives lived in the barracks on the other side; their trip over cost them noth- ing and the first real expenses they have to face are right here at the Hostess House, The girls can get beds and cots from 60 to 75 cents a day, and then there js a cafeteria, aithough we do not insist that they take their meals hore, of course. Many of the brides say they can get their meals for $1 a day, 80 you see & doughboy could keep his wife here 4s reasonably ag $1.50 per day. “But many of the girls want to be taken to theatres and hotels, not the Stoical little Belgian and Russian! Sirls, but these unmanageable little French girls, The soldier who has to buy railroad tickets and plan for the future is not always willing to do this, so that is where the ‘tiff’ be- gins as a rule. However, most of these little couples are love couples, and the war ahd the change of coun- try for the girl binds them very close- jy together. Since they are nearly all of the same class and come from this peasant and immigrant class we ure looking for some very happy results,” So once more I caution the little American’ maid who is still fretting about Bill or John or Harry and his amdurs overseas to dry her eyes, for very fow of the real old American born boys for generati wedded foreign brides, “Made Ya America” is good enough for them! Wind Your Clock HEN the temperature ‘rises 20 degrees in Aquila, Switser- land, Victor Guillant’s clock gets a good winding. How go? Be- cause Victor Guillani lives in and hig thermometer winds his quan, A rod rests on the surface of the column of mercury in hi mometer, being connected other end to a saw-toothed rack, plains Popular Beience Monthly; the temperature rises, the mer- cury, expanding up the ‘tube—puyshes the rod and its saw-toothed rack be. fore it, Tho rack, which meshes with a series of small springs, thus turns the axis to which they are attached. On this axis thero is also a large wheel, which in turn meshes with the wheel- work of the clock spring, and conse- quently winds it." When the tempera- By Zoe Beckley work. Much pleasure and “King” George Mitchell of the wribe two young iittle and a three-day gypsy world, and thodox ceremonies with marriage not robbed the gypsies of their pic- brief age. Reni is pretty, with flash- younger, is the aManced of Rus J. figures of the plighted maids. Colors ture Boes down, the same rotating takes place; and between the two the clock is always wound with no trouble to the owner, er ee Sik Copyright, 1919, Press tia New York hrenibg Wedd). eo ‘ ‘B play. Be‘always true and faithful to one another.” . of Romany peo- _ ple now camped couples were paired off amid feast. For this is the open season although democracy and automo- biles have come to dwell among licenses and everything will take place when the two pairs of swoet- turesqueness, Reni Bil, sixteen, is naw engaged ing black eyes and her hair in two long tails, braided. with beads and Johnson, equally fifteen and looking less. and more colors, with floating ribbons and streaming ‘sashes, made (hem as abies DANCING AFTER THE CEREMONY if go-lucky betrothal vow warranted. Forth from a tent they came, beam- ing but tremendously earnest, each little girl's hand clasped tightly in the hand of her lover, Then came forward the old tribesman, Mitchell, an imposing , >reonage in an Ameri- can gingham shirt, corduroy trousers, silver studded belt and white side whiskers, and holding aloft in the smoke of the campfire an ancient sword, bade the kiddie couples kiss it and repeat the oath of fidelity and the promise to be true “to the heart's desire.” A solemn moment ensued, broken by a fanfare of music from violins and pipes and drums, The spell was shattered and the poetic Tziganes became a rather motley band of men and women in calicoes and spangles, dancing, shouting and pledging healths in what is said to have been a worthy brand of wassail, But all through the night, when quiet has settled over the camp and the moon has sillvered the grubhy roadways and laid its charm upon the dirty tents, the violins and flutes will keep wailing their strange music over all, “Because,” any of the women will tell you, “there are Jovers—lovers all over the big camp. When couples are betrothed, it is in the air, Other young people meet and make love. ' is summer, the season of ro- mance. A strange blending, majestic ideals and petty vagran- cles, these gypsies—American off- shoots of a wandering race known in Kurope from: 1417 and now in they are, of 2 HAPPY, , Be Jucky. Little With these words, pronounced by near Yeadon, I’a., wild rejoicings for cupid im the the nomads of the highroad, and or- hearts come of age, modernity has to Ephraim G. Steve of the same golden coins, Her sister, May, a year No demure white graced the slim gay as the occasion and the happy- every part of the world PICTURESQUE PART OF THE ‘The United States is none too hos- pitable to gypsies, Thousands have ‘been turned back by the Board of Inquiry at Bilis Island as “undesir- ables,” notwithstanding the posses- sion’ of pots of gold and many rubles and pearls. There are any namber of gypsy bands, however, in America. The Mitchells, now touring Pennsylvania in thelr motor vans. tf You please, are probably of English extraction, though their fathers before them hovered in the neighborhood of Yeadon season after season, A while ago tho extremely urbaf district of the Bronx had its gypsy colony—tents, wagons, fortune tellers, children, dogs, decrepit horses and all. ‘This very summer commuters in Jer- sey were regaled with glimpses from train windows of a full-panoplied gypsy camp not far from the fringes of Paterson, Babies sprawled with a hair- ribbon for costume in ‘the brookside grass, and big-hatted men sat around while the women cooked at open fires or patched tents and clothes beside their travelling vans. ‘The American gypsy’s habits, like his blood, have become diluted by in- termarriage and the constant breath- ing of the New World atmosphere. He no longer holds aloof from all other peoples, without bond of re- ligion or literature of any soft, roam- ing and restless, océasionally maraud- ing, but always 4s treo as Nature 0 man When 'vllt"ia'woode ‘te ‘uoble savage ran,” Gypsies are not unknown in the heart of New York's east side, You can find them dhere if you know where to look, selling from tny, CEREMONY PHOTOS - Counresy of PHILA. INQUIRER crowded shops all manner of baskets, tinware and crockery. ‘There are in East Houston Street a number of picturesque cafes fre- quented by Hungarian gypsies, some of whom show in their fine faces their antiquity of race and pride of an- cestry. On Christopher Street, in Green- which Village, a little tea room hung with strange draperies and Oriental wine jars, fs kept by a Romany gypsy named Maric who, with her husband, Marchland, proves that the wildwood gypsy can become domesticated even as the rubber plant, They belong to what are called “house-dwelling” gypsies, many of! whom in different parts of this coun- try are good and prosperous citizens, voters, with ®usiness interests and solid properties, And there are “water gypsies,” living on boats in different! parts of the. Mississippi River, Horse trading, fortune tolling, basket weaving and trinket selling mostly keep them going. They adore music and are good violinists and harpists, ignoring the piano simply because they cannot move it about on their journeyings, “Gypsying” is @ sort of germ in the} blood. A few years ago the whole world was fascinated by the annual exploit of Lady Arthur Grosvenor, wife of the second son of the Du of Westminster and daughter of the lete Sir Herbert Sheffield, who fared forth with a maid, a manservant and a gayly-painted van to browse among country lanes and the wilder fastnesses of the hills, She was duly licensed as “a hawker of wares" and took delight in picking up songs! and stories from Cornish fishermen’ and dwellers in remote districts, *| siderably on his steps before he at- The announcement of his visit started certain interesting lines of speculation. The Evening World hhe pointed out that, like his late grandfather, Kdward Ameriggn girl's all-conquering charm. Yet, with all the chatter about him, have we any definite idea of the looks, tastes, traits and war record of the young royalty who will step ashore on the Western World by the end of this week or the first of next? No matter how good a democrat you are, you cannot deny truthfully a human interest in the sort of fellow Wales is, So scan the best communique about him 1 have been able to pre- pare from many sources. First of all-- This is how he looks: He ts less than medium height—s ft 6 in.—and very slender. Before the war he was frail in appearance, with a tendency to weakness of the chest; but the outdoor life in France has hardened him and improved his physical appearance. He is fair- haired, blue-eyed, clear-complexioned, like most young men who have grown up in the moist Eriglish air and bave had plenty ef country life. He stands straight, ig clean-shaven—there is a story that when he went, into the cavalry a mustache for the first time wes made optional for British off- cers because the Prince couldn't raise one. He hag deen summed up as “a nice-looking boy.” He was twenty~ five the 23d of last June, and at home they call him “David.” ‘These are the things he likes to do: ‘He is an enthusiastic golfer, and when he played at Oxford before the war he always carried his own clubs. He is an expert motorist, having been his own chauffeur on many occasions and driving a car day after day while on duty at the front. ! At Oxford he played soccer football. He 1s especial- ly keen on walking and running. One unusual pursuit of bis 1s play- ing bagpipes, an exercise recommended by the doctors for strengthening his chest. He dances, but it is said Amer- ican officers had to coach him con- tended a party at the American mili- tary headquarters in Coblenz, He skis and plays polo. He loves animals and was once dée- scribed as “fonder of his bull pup than of any girl.” When a lite boy he said, “When I am King I shall make three laws: No one shall cut the tails of the little dogs; there shall be no more fishing with hooks, and no one shall use bearing reins to hurt horses.” He smokes cigarettes and an odorous pipe. His dominant traits; He has that rare gift of royalty, modesty, which used to be carried to the point of downright shyness. When some sycopbant spoke flat- teringly of his position as heir to the great British throne he answered naively: “It always seems to me great luck to be the eldest son, be- cause when you are you don't have to wear all of your brother's old clothes.” At Oxford he dined in the hall with the other students and played around witb them, receiving the affectionate nickname of “Prag- ger-Wagger.” At the front Tommy Atking called him “P. W,,” and bis simplicity and democratic insistence on sharing all hazards and discom- forts made him most popular, He showed plenty of personal cour- age, and when protests were made against bis babit of slipping off to dangerous parts of the line, he re- torted: “Well, suppose 1 do get pipped, haven't I got plenty of brothers at home!” He is tactful and knows how to make a good im- pression, a8 was shown by the popu- lar acclaim with which he was re- ceived in Italy. His life has been singularly free from dissipation of any wort, thanks to bis own instincts and to his mother’s careful super- vision. | His war record; Having joined the Officers’ Training Corps at Oxford, he was a proficient soldier when the war broke out, and he gave the King and Lord Kitchener? no peace until he was sent to the VIL, the Prince of Wales probably will be the arbiter of men’s fashions here during the coming season; also that entertaining tne greatest catch in England involves thrilling romantic possibilitics, im .|view of the present scarcity of eligible Princesses and the omniprésnt i} r front, in November, 1914, ws an Alde to Sir John French. He wag lulson officer and continuously under fire during the bloody Battle of Neuve Chapelle, winning the Military Cross and the French War Cross. Although every effort was made to keep biin out of the trenches—winning from him the bitter remark that “it's rotien te be a Princo”’—he narrowly escaped death on more than one occasion. As transport officer he worked fifteem hours a day, and sometimes fortys eight hours on a stretch. He allowed, himself no special comforts or privi« leges. He went into the war a Secon@ Lieutenant in the Grenadicr Guards and came out @ Colonel. TWO MINUTES OF OPTIMISM By Herman J. Stich ‘Easy Come, ; Easy Go.’” NEARNED affluence is @ | proverbially fleeting vis- itor, What comes at the sound of the flute has always gone at the beat of the druln, Facile acquirements breed contempt of possessions, Acci- dent makes them, inapprecia- tion makes away with them, In sunny California, land of golden days and silvery nights, mineri sent fortunes over the whiskey counter with as little concern as they filtered dirt from dust. Inherited wealth commonly creates spendthrifts, Uxperi- ence proves that fortuitous treasure hardly makes its en- trance but it makes its oxit, Nine out of ten lottery winners are soon as poor as ever, Every day witnesses unex- pected and undeserved riches quickly dissipated. Only Youth is prodigal of hours and powers, The skyrocket rushes aloft to dizzying height and at the pinnacle of its upward flight bursts into gaudy nothing, while the skyscraper reared of blood and brain and time slowly rises, to stand forever as a cloud- sweeping monument to the glory of toil. Permanent guecess is a mat- ter of promotion, not projection, The man who was born with a silver spoon in his mouth gele dom appreciates what he has as the man who must suffer and sweat to carn,