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G one?Ye Dime Novel
WHERE is the dime novel? It
used to be right in the front
row of all those stationery
and news shops you find on Third
and Sixth avenues. They even used
to sell them for 5 cents. Rut enter
one of these stores now in search
of the weekly adventure of your
favorite character, and you are
?!oomed to disappointment. Painful
as it is to admit it, you are forced
Lo the conclusion that the dime novel
is almost extinct, even in the very
kept more people awake in their'
time than an armistice celebration,.
are relegated to an upper shelf. They
have not pone away for the summer,
either. It has been a matter of years
since they have been moving slowly
out of town. They have gone, as
one erstwhile librarian puts it, be?
cause "no one wants 'em."
All of which may be an encourag?
ing sidelight on the increasing
culture of the age, but there seems
to be a sounder theory. The dime
? liddle of its old New York stamp?
Diamond Dick, King Rrady, Nick
Carter, Frank Merriwell and *all
the rest are mere shadows of what
ihey once were. If any office boy
knows anything about them to-day it
is safe to say he has a turn for
archaeology. If any book is for sale
in a paper cover it is pretty sure to
be a volume of Dumas or Tolstoy,
but the old kings of fiction, who have
novel has found a substitute. Pain?
ful as it is to say it, the dime novel
seems to have been included and
absorbed by the galaxy of fiction
magazines that have been flooding
the market. .As a novelty they had
: it over Diamond Dick, and you
! didn't have to read them behind the
woodshed. Or perhaps the movies
1 did it. Anyway, if you want to
read about Diamond Dick you have
got to look a long way for him.
A DACHSHUND? There ain't
no such animal?-at least as
far as the New York dog
fancier is concerned. Other dogs
have gone out of fashion, but a
visit to any emporium where canine
aristocracy is dispensed with is
proof that the dachshund is just
"They'll be having him put with
the dinosaur and the other old ken
I They're the boys who will have to
answer for a breed that is fast dying
out. Why, e'ven if you could '?et a
dachshund, and I'd hate- to promise
you I could gi't one'. New York
would be just plain uncongenial for
him. No dog likes sympathy more
than the dachshund, and, believe
me', he don't gel it here.
"It's a funny thing, too," he went
?m, thoughtfully; "they use lot- <>f
Hun stuff over here still. Take, this
liberty cabbage, dust changing its
nel stock up at the museum if he
don't get, popular pretty soon," a
facetious dog expert commented.
"They just don't seem to want him
around. That's all. It's too had,
too. He's a good dog, gentle, intelli?
gent, faithful, and the worst of if
all is, it isn't his fault. It's those
cartoonists who kept dragging him
into the pictures with the Heinies.
name eased up people's consciences,
and they still eat it by the hogshead.
But nobody's ever thought of calling
that poor little dog a liberty hound
and making him popular.
"Why, even Paris is kinder to the
dachshund than New York. They
have a lot of captured ones there,
and they're proud to lu> seen walk?
ing down the1 boulevard with one.
But just catch me taking; one
through Central Park!"
Bohemia Moves North
*"?""UIE high price of garrets has
X driven many sculptors, art?
ists and writers from the dank
old houses of Washington Square,
Abingdon Square and other sections
of Greenwich Village to the brighter
lamped haunts of Newark, Pater
son and Hoboken.
To be a resident of Greenwich
Village is no longer the metropoli?
tan cachet of Bohemianism. Vul?
gar people who work of mornings
and are, in the village vernacular
"in trade" have swarmed to Bohe?
mia, and the unartistie landlords,
with absolutely no erotic motifs
have booste?! rents accordingly.
Thus it is that New York has n
new Bohemia. Sixty-seventh Street
West?from Central Park to Co?
lumbus Avenue?is becoming the
artistic centre of New York. It is
lapping over now to West Seventy
second Street and Central Park
I West, and the announcement is
made that the Hotel Majestic is to
! have a row of skylight studios on
! its roof for the winter.
The Majestic has many celebrated
guests. Among those who winter
i there ;'.r<> Edna Ferber, Arthur
i Somers Roche, Verne Harden Pbr
I ter, William McHarg and Edwin
j Balmer, Fred C. Kelly, Burt L.
: Standish, Jean Knott, Ride Dudley,
1 Miss Lillian Russell, Anna Fitziu,
. Morgan Kingston, Mme. Yvette
j Guilbert, Henry Clive, Ethel Clay
| ton, Pavlowa and Fritzi Scheff.
In Sixty-seventh Street is the
I Caf? des Artistes. Christy lives
there, and so do many other cele?
brated wielders of the pen ami
brush. There are already three co
j operative' studios for artists and
writers in the block, and anothei
is rearing its crest to the clouds
On the street live James Mont?
gomery Flagg, Graham Cootes, R
M. Brinkerhoff, Le Roy Ripley
Grant Renyard, Dean Cornwall, anc
a hundred or more other celebrated
New York in Days Gone By
A reminder of the good old days when 25 cents was not to be sneezed ft*5, showing Chester Bullock"s warehouse for
fancy goods at 501 Broad way, back in 186')
Taking the Movies to College at
UTf?"VYER Y man has two busi
W ' liesses," remarked Abe Pot?
ash in one of his most sapient
mood;; "his own and the movie's."
And you need not wonder greatly if
' some day you see announcements of
screen productions sponsored by Colum?
bia University Films. Inc., Nicholas
?Murray Butler, president. Columbia
University has decided that movies arc
omething mon than an agency to
lure freshmen from afternoon ses
I sions in philosophy. At Morningside
i Height;-, the live-roe! feature stands
with calculus, Horace, Shakespeare and
introductory biology. Columbia is
i- ling to teach the art, the manufacture
and, by no means least, the business of
In the official bulletin, between pho?
netics and physical education, are
listed six courses in photoplay mak?
ing. The academic nomenclature or?
ders things m this manner:
"Photoplay Composition el Elemen?
tary course. ?Three points. Winter ses?
sion. Mrs. l-'rances Tayiur Patterson
Sect inu I 3:10-4:25 p. m. Tuesuay
Room 509 Hamilton. Section " 7:10
8:25 p. in. Wednesday, Room 509 Ham
There are intermediate and ail
vanced courses in scenario making am
a course in the actual screening of ?
picture. At this time there are n?
provisions in the curriculum for filn
acting and press agent ry. Pcrhapi
such courses are unnecessary, But i
the demand arises you may expeel t?
hear about Vamping el? am! Spaci
"Columbia didn't institute thes
, courses because we thought it expedi
' ont to uplift the photoplay or any
thing like that," said Dr. Victor C
Preeburg, who. with Mrs. Frances Tay?
lor Patterson and <"arl Louis Gregory
teaches photoplay composition an
photoplay making. "There was a germ
ine demand from the people at larg
for courses in scenario writing and ii
film production. The motion picture -,
:i vital part of American life, and i
great university cannot ignore It o
look down on it as a subject unworth'
of its traditions. Too many school
and colleges behave like ostriches h
the presence of the photoplay house
They bury their heads in the academic
siii,.is and try to pretend that the
movie doesn't exist."
Of course Dr. Freeburg is confronted
almost daily with the argument that it
is next to impossible to teach photo?
play writ ing. ,
"You hoar that argument brought
against almost every branch of college
work," said Dr. Freeburg, "But Co
! lumbia has been fairly successful in
teaching playwriting? consider such
commercial playwrights as Sam Ship
man and Edgar Allan Woolf, both Co?
lumbia men and journalism, and
j there is no reason why we should
? not achieve a similar degree of suc?
cess in scenario making."
However, Dr. Freeburg wishes it un?
derstood that Columbia docs not in?
tend to "uplift" the films.
"I haven't any us.1 for this uplift
stuff," he explained. "I'm not inter?
ested in the movies as an educational
factor but as an art form with a lan?
guage and a technique wholly its own.
We're trying to impress on our stu?
dents?there are about fifty of them
here this summer session that the mo
tion picture is not intehded as a sup?
plement to the novel or to the drama
but th.?, it is a new art which present
problems entirely new in the field oi
??rent ive endeavor.
"We want our students to turn oui
hotter pictures," he continued, "not foi
'any moral purpose, but because bettei
pictures arc more interesting to the
almost cosmic movie audience, and"
here Dr, Freeburg interposed a most
Linprofessorial grin "because they're
more profitable commercially. We're
trying to teach among other matters
what the scholarly might call cine
m at og ra p h i c eco no mies."
Beginners in scenario writing fail
to realize that a screen play is made
in pictures and not in words.
"Almost every one thinks in terms
of words," said Dr. Freeburg, "and our
greatest difficulty lies in inducing the
student to think out his story in terms
of pictures. A novelist derives a situa?
tion from life and sets it down in
prose, but the maker of scenarios must
work out his problem as a sequence of
pictures. Most of our elementary course
of instruction is devoted to teaching
the student t;: ! ? guage of the films -
pictures. When the studenl has mas?
tered the arl of expressing himself
pictorially he is ready to pul in
scenario form subjects drawn from
Before students attempt original
scenarios they are required to make
adaptations of b ? ai . ?tage plays
"'1 h is procedure is me rely ; p. givi
them "', C . ?; : ; ?? '' i: ' ?! i 1 rig of ! he 11
met? ? um," i ? mai I cd 1 '? r Freebu rg
'Adaptai ions from cxl ran? ous sources
aren't art. You can't rank the mar
who translates a work from anothei
language with the original author. Am
adaptation is merely translating a bool
or a play into film language. Thi
system of asking young writers to sub
mit their itleas in synopsis form oui;
prevents the fullest expression of an;
creative impulse that may have beei
in the author's mind. It's like having a
musician submit an outline of a sym?
phony for production and having the
harmonization and instrumentation
dune by some routine musician. We're
teaching scenario writing in every de?
tail, so that the writer who has a film
story in mind may express it in his
The classroom work in the depart?
ment of photoplay making differs from
the old procedure in which the students
wriggled in their seats until the uni?
versity bell tolled the close of the
hour. Practical lilm criticism is the
order of every day. The instructor
r -.ills to the class a scenario turned in
by a student and the embryo cinema
composers, as Dr. Freeburg likes to
call them, compose hymns of hate about
the technique and the ideas of the stu?
dent-author. When the cinema com?
posers have chanted their canticles of
criticism, Dr. Freeburg or Mrs. Pat?
terson performs the post-mortem on the
script. Photoplay making classes are
no places for the sennitive and tempera?
mental. But the pupils of Dr. Freeburg
and of Mrs. Patterson in the three
years that they have been giving in?
struction have made good and sce
nnrio editors are eager to see the work
of the advanced course in photoplay
Another feature of the class worl?
i?; analytic exhibition. Such corpora?
tions as Lasky, Universal and Fo>
Films cooperate with Columbia by send
??ig to Morningside Heights many oi
their pictures especially to be run of
for the cinema composers. At fro
quent intervals the projection machin?
-tops and the cinema composers com
pose little things about the reel jus
shown. Still pictures also are used ti
illustrate points of composition, light
ing and emphasis.
It is planned this summer to film on
of the scenarios written by a cinemi
composer with Mr. Gregory's grinder
officiating at the "coffee machines.
That's Mr. Gregory's academic descrip
tion of the motion picture earners
> ext fall an ambitious programme i
scheduled, with five-reel dramas an
tivo-reel comedies. i.'olumbia has
ist receptive fountain for the film
7 ig of comic episodes. There won't b
anything "high-browed" about Colurr
a's riim factory.
"Many good pictures are being mad
, lay," said Dr. Freeburg, "but w
ink that there's room for many mor?
iVe're trying to teach folks to pre
Lice better pictures. And if we sui
ci ed the 'tone' of the movies may b
raised, and all that, and perhaps
won't. But at least folks will fin
i more beauty in the movies?and they'
? have a great deal more iual"
Pedestrians Hid a Chaner Then
i ne oriage that used to carry foot passengers over Broad?
way at Fulton Street
Street of Restaurants
F\ORTY-FOU RTII S T K E E T ,
from Vanderbilt Avenue ti
Hudson, is ;i maddening r? a :
to travel on an emptj stomach, w th
empty pockets. It is no place for a
man with only an appetite. ': has
smells when the wind blows right
which can make a gourmand
a dyspeptic or a. dyspeptic oui of
To be the champion eating street
of New York means that you must
have a lot of restaurants on both
your sides, because the compet?* ?or,
is keen. A person with money needn't
go hungry on Forty-second or Forty
third Street, ami some of the streets
downtown are studded with as?
But Forty-fourth Street is the
dining-room of them all- Fourteen
restaurants contribute to the atmo?
sphere of the single block between
Broadway and ?Sixth Avenue. The
" " :'' "'' ''" ? " ?'? ere were
ils were sei
f wj ? ? -,
? ? win.
lowed, ; St. 1: :-,...
? ?? -? up next, i | ace for
',:-' -' ' two or
No. :i of Hi , is for
h '77 ??? day.
The Hotel Astor is 01 E ?-%?
fourth Street, an fi tcounts
food is si rved tl 1 Blue
Ribbon i )af< - - . ? ? -,
feed peo . S trief er '
Brothers, the Hotel St. ...
Hotel Gerard, Mr. ?.. Yet
?'.7 , Lou, the loi mem?
ber; Lucca and the Alg nquin.
Delmonico's is a fai ions gem of
the Forty foui tion.
Before Lou - way to a
bank ir is a colorful
fifi y feet :
!' eat supper be
establishments vary from five cents
for a cup of coffee to 25 for a demi
tasse. Some have regular dinners
for 45 cents and are apologetic
about it. Others have six Little Neck
clams for 60 cents and seem proud
The street is the scene of a gas?
tronomic democracy. The rich and
poor eat together on it. If the pas?
try in the windows of the popular
priced restaurants there were placed
end to end it would reach from indi?
gestion to dyspepsia. If all the soup
were poured into a single bowl it?
it?would have to be a large bowl.
On the right-hand side of the
street looking from Broadway to the
east, and thereby ignoring the
sprinkling of backs of saloons and
other eating places from Broadway
to the Hudson, the Claridge is the
first food depot disclosed. Up to
fore theatre eat at the places with
the pastry in the windows. Those
who have supper after theatre dine
at the establishments with nothing
in the windows, but some kind of
lace curtains with the name of the1
restaurant woven in.
They tell of a man who started
to eat his way west to the Hudson
from Vanderbilt Avenue. It's a
poor story, because the man didn't
die or get so fat that he was the
same height standing or lying. He
found an attractive and reasonable
??dace in the middle of the block,
gave up his mission and got a job
as waiter in the place and lived
happily ever after.
They also say that if a man can't
get satisfied in any of the restau?
rants on Forty-fourth Street he
should try Forty-third, or get mar?
Better Shots at Coney
THE war has brought one lesson
at least home to Coney Islam!.
The boys have learned how to
shoot. Since the last halcyon days
of peace they have acquired the art
of hitting things oilier than the
steel that comprises the rear wall
of the shooting galleries. All the
things-they studied in the training
camps about holding the rifle and
squeezing it and tiring slowly have
survived the signing of the armis?
tice, survived to such an extent that
dark rumors are whispered in the
marches of Luna Park and Dream
land that the shooting galleries are
being driven out of business by the
marksmanship of young America.
"It ain't the money we have te
"There's one boy here who shoots
'em off regular every evening, and
then he begins on the balls on the
fountain?and il takes a good eye
to hit them every tune, believe me."
"Yes," said another further down
the street, "they're shooting better
now. You don't see any more
boobs. They all know how to hold
a gun. The' army's ra sed the aver?
age all right, but the bothersome
ones are the crack shots, the ones
who pulled the expert medals on
the ranges in the ca? p . They're
;li" ones vvlip. chew up the clay
steamboats and the plaster pigeons,
and they're th.- ones ?. ho like to
shoot. You always see three o'
four of 'em hanging around here
i pay out," explained the proprietor
?of a gilded and glowing establish?
ment, where you can shoot anything
?from an African carn?vora to a
i bull's-eye. "It ain't the money,
i Even the clay pipes and balls don't
i break you nowadays, and you'd
j have to tire a broadside to lay out
one of these tin ducks, but it's the
bother?that's what get's a fe'.lcr's
He paused and pointed dramati?
cally to a wheel with clay pipes on
its rim. "I'd hate to say how many
times I have to put new pipes on
that thing since we opened up this
season with all the boys back from
shooting the Huns. They just take
naturally to those pipes?" be said.
every night, and the crowd 'ikes to
see 'em too. They sure are hard
on the cilice furniture.
"But listen," and he leaned for?
ward confidentially; "just forget
this stuff about them breaking up
the shooting Nothing
could have helped our business in a
million years like the war has. The
soldiers, the ones back in cits again.
all like to shoot. Some of 'em will
spend their last nickel here over the
counter just to feel the grip of one
of the.se guns, and father, and
mother and sister come to see what
they learned over in the trenches.
Believe me, there's money in it?
and what's a few pipes when trade's
boomirig?" : w .__-?*'