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The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1916-1920, December 16, 1917, Section 5 Special Feature Supplement, Image 55

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THE SUN, SUNDAY, DECEMBER 16, 1917.
STRANGE EYES VIEW GREENWICH VILLAGE WITH GREAT
By CHLOE ARNOLD.
GREENWICH VILLAGE has
that dilapidated appearnnoe
without which thero Is no real
comfort. This la because It lies In a
qunlnt old part of town which some
how manages to retain a reposeful air
ef faded gentility. For the still Ufa
of the place la Ideal but there la so
little c.f It!
Moit of the Village huddle about
Wellington and Sheridan squares, to
the south and west, taking frcakUh
Bights to Charlton street, via Mae
eougal, and halting on account of the
turbid, workaday tide, at Fourteenth
street. Though as fur as the real
utate agent Is concernod, any place In
New York Is Greenwich Village so
long as the patron does not Insist that
ho Is In Brooklyn or The Bronx, say.
Without mi adequate excuse It would
lo ridiculous to think that a person
from South Haven, Kan., could despoil
the village of all Its truths and present
them for public enlightenment the
next day.
It would take years of the Infernal
Industry of a Balzac to do the subject
Justice. But If you nro disappointed
In what you find here It la doubtless
because George Middle ton, who showed
the sights to these new eyes. Is only a
civilian, nud he wears allocs Instead
cf sandals.
Now the Village has all manner of
utilitarian Institutions: grocery stores,
photograph galleries, little shops, a
bank, a church, a hospital, a Jail, res
taurants, nnd a newspaper called the
Quill. It Is In thin medium for public
utteranco that one gains courage for
presenting a one night stand of tho
Village. For In his great column
Bobby Hdwards excuses persons Whu
futs around nnd experiment.
A word about the QuUI. It Is the
current newspaper of . the locality
(thirty-two pages for December: It's
published every month). The editor
Is Arthur II. Moss, who Is aided by a
foursome each of contributing editors
on art and literature.
Before we hasten on to the people
lt us examine a poem In tho current
number of the Quill. If you are at all
fympathetlc you will understand the
-Lord, more poetry!" attitude of rep
utablo editors:
FAIRY TALE.
BT MAXWELL DODKNIIIIM.
A twig, like a drooping gray wrist.
Is tipped by a frightened rose,
Kear by stands a gravely scarfed breese.
II loes the Irlgntenea rose, ana irom
his lips
Drift pipings, like speaking tendrils of
mist.
Ths rose talks to the breeze:
"I strain from my twig, but it holds me.
Gravely scarfed breeie, blow against uia
And swing me over the garden walls
To the wavering Hps of dark blue
shadows."
The old breeze answers:
1 shall spring into the dark blue shad
ew's lips
And, braided to silence between them,
wave to you.
Then wrench yourself free."
Ths frightened rose hung Ms head,
Be knew he could fling himself over the
wall.
But something held him and he some
how felt
That the old breeze knew of It
Greenwich Bolshevtkl and Others,
Now, then, If any man would take
himself to a community In which h
can order wood and be burning It lr
fire minutes; where food Is still rea
sonable In price; where he can fsSuse
himself by watching his neighbors i
banish the "poor, weary convention
alities" of life, and where he may ex
ptct his landlord to give warning of
higher rents every now and then, let
Urn move to Greenwich Village.
Politically the Village has as many
fictions ns present Russia. The Bol
ahevikl consist of men with long hair
and women with short hair. The men
excuse their peculiarities In this re
spect by mentioning Samson and
Mlrabcau, whereas the women find
their authority In that celebrated lock
breaker, Mistress Irene Castle.
People are so Industriously Being
Themsrtves that they are hard put to
It to be anything else; If you do not
belong to the Bolshevik! thero's no of
fence taken. For the Maximalists
here write good books, paint good pic
tures and go about the art of life
rcostly In a quiet manner.
Repair to any one of the numerous
restaurants at a certain time of eve
sing and you may see for yourself the
violence done to personal dignity and
common sense by a band of oddly
habited mon and women who are bent
n being a bit different
But here's the guide, all overcoated
FAMOUS
By JANE DIXON.
FAMOUS sleeping places In and
about New York.
The same good friend, F. CTC,
"ho suggested the famous trystlng
rlacs outburst sent along this one
ar.ent the sleeps. Even If his last
Initials were not separated by an
apostrophe yon might guess be was
Irish, it takes some one born to the
shamrock to get the proper angle of
humor and pathos, too, on the big
(own. There must have been a whole
flock of shamrocks present at P. O'Ci
birth.
Anyway, It was he who called at
tention to the very obvious fact that
New York does not sink Its super
structure into a feather pillow overy
time It lays Itself down to sleep. Far
from It. It takes It sleep where It
fts It, the sane as Mr. Kipling
wrote about fun. Any tun tt sees
a chance to snatch forty winks on the
aide it throws aside the conventions
of the most popular of pastimes and
goes to pounding the hay.
"What made- m think et It," said
the bright young story suggeater,
as this: I went to bbovI tho
other evening. It was tho kind of
picture that in the technical tarsal of
the trade Is known a a thriller. Tho
director who was turning out thla
Wt of photographic art knew If ho
let three minutes elapse without
murder those scenes would bo cut out
id he wasnt taking any c nan sea of
wasting nun.
"It was just as tho here was fall
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and ready personally to conduct you
through the Village. It Is George Mld
dleton. Ho Is a playwright, although
he says that's scarcely worth men
tioning, as nobody cares who writes a
pluy.
As proof of his qualifications for
showing off this neighborhood a critic
says: "He has a remarkable faculty
for Belzlng people at a crisis In their
lives and putting their wholo history
before us with a few deft touches."
And presently you will know if th(s
spot Is a geographical locality, a crisis
In people's lives, or only, as some say,
a state of mind, remarkable for long
hair and high rents. With perhaps a
few "deft touches" which the critic
speaks of.
It was a gusty December evening
quitting time for some, tea time for
ethers. And If anybody was Interested
In the quiet delight of a city sunset
one might say that a few mauve clouds
edged with silver drifted above the
church at the south of Washington
Square. And that the lighted cross
was softened and blended with the
OLD SAND MAN HITS NEW
Ing off surplus steam. Tho noise came
from a point directly In front of me.
I looked closer.
"The upper half of a bald spot was
discernible above the back of the
seat. It was reposing lightly on the
shoulder of a man to the right, who
seemed to regard It with high dis
favor. Every now and then this sec
ond man would hunch away from the
bald spot, leaving It temporarily sus
pended In air. But only temporarily.
Eventually It found Its way back to
the shoulder.
"After a while the second man grew
tired of his role of chief support to
a haymaker. He gathered his hat up
off the floor and paged the nearest
exit. Did this Interrupt the snorefest
being given by the owner of the bald
spot? Only lost a bar or so. The
minute he found himself shy of sup
port he lurched heavily to the other
aide of his seat and deposited hla bean
on the abutting shoulder.
Woman's Wrath Vala.
The shoulder happened to be tho
property of a fat. woman. who had been
a-ettlnc tinder everybody's akin by
roadlna- the, sub-titles so the folks
five rows away could hear them. You
know tho sort I mean. Well, being a
headrest stopped her.
"She was so mad you could hear her
slxile. She reached over and gave
what was under that bald spot a shovo
that ouaht to have, pushed it oft Its
shoulders. Then she got up and blew
the "works right when the heavy was
getting ready to throw the baby oou
through a twenty-second story win
dow." . .
"I suppose after that the wan de
cided to postpone hla nap until some
more, propitious moment.'' was offered
by way of enoouragtmeat'
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ON LEFT Met A CHARACTERISTIC
landscape. Children still skated mer
rily on the pavements; people who had
been a-buslng alighted and set out
homeward. While somo sparrows en
gaged In a spirited wrangle over a
Piece of bread, doubtless anticipating
whcatless Wednesday.
Addresses are always difficult to find
In Greenwich Village. Just as you
'hlnk you are hopelessly lost In Sixth
avenue trolley cars and scenery too
realistic to be Interesting you apply
to a dapper policeman. He has a
definite clue about how to reach 158
Waverley place. He points out a row
of One old brownstone houses at the
left.
In one of these (and In the middle of
the Village) George Mlddleton, author
of "Polly With a Past," Uvea. Whlln
we have an opportunity we may as
well look at a typical house of that
section. In this particular one you
whistle and wait for Katie, who Is not
on overworked pleasantry but the per
son who controls the destiny of the
Mlddleton household. In short, she's
the cook.
neatly Into his 15 cents worth of space. '
By the time the hero took bany oou
Into his arms for a fadeaway he was
snoring In high C and the exhaust
sounded like a siren horn with a cold
In Its head."
Another true story Is of a news
paper man who has pitched his tent In
a .nearby suburb. He works on one
of' the early shifts, which means his
day of honest toll Is finished about S
o'clock In the afternoon. The train
which trundles him to the outskirts
leaves the New York station some time
after 4.
He has formed the habit of dropping
Into a handy moving picture theatre
for an hour's quiet nap after his work
la done. By crossing with silver the
palm of the girl who guides folks down
the long dark passageways he has
gained a faithful little alarm clock
who awakens htm Just in time for
a quick getaway and a speedy Journey
to the gate where a guard In blue de
mands a passport In the shape of a
well perforated commutation ticket.
"Where you golngr asked a fel
low typewriter tickler as the two
emerged after a close tussle with the
dally news.
"I'm going to drop over to tt
movies." was the reply.
"Are you. a picture fanr evincing
surprise.
"No, man, but I do like my sleep.'
Movies for Naps.
Observe for yourself. A hasty glance
around any cinema theatre win con'
vlnce you that for sleeping accommo
dations the movies cannot be beaten
What though the battle rages on the
'screen: what though ships go down,
buildings blaze, hapless, helpless ladles
ara nuahsd over steep dim. uttie ohil
area aro torn rrom mo arms 01
their parepta,. villainy flourishes, love
culvers under trie lasn, nonor Mies
uungs
VILLAGE STUDIO.
There are two cards nt the whistle,
Fola La i'ollette and Geurgu MHuli-
ton. According to equity and the Con
stitution, Fola La l'olletto Is Mis.
George Mlddleton. Uut uhe Is an
actress, a lecturer, a suffraglxt, hence
Miss La Follctte. But wo must hnsti-n
on.
The drawing room Is also a study,
with great mirrors, a luxurious divan
and a fireplace. For Miss La Follette
maintains an office nnd Mr. Mlddleton
writes here when the humor strikes
him. Which la usually at night, from
8 o'clock on.
But by this time he has donned his
overcoat, and Is ready to set out on a
tour of the Village. It was while
crossing Sheridan Square that he was
trapped Into a confession:
"I am leading a double life," he
commenced. "See there, that's the
Greenwich Village theatre; looks fine
and new, doesn't it?" Which shows
that In the true tourist's spirit he
wanted to Jump from one point of
Interest to another. But while admlr-
happen and a lot of others only con-
cclvablo to the mind of a movie
maker? Such trifling events need not
disturb the peaceful dreams of tho
sleep snatcher. The only thing that
could trouble him would be a hostile
Zeppelin sailing over the city and
dropping a package of high explosive
bombs In his lap.
You will see them thickest In the
uptown movies any evening the tired
business men. Hubby no more than
gets settled In his' easy chair after
surrounding a triple helping of roast
beef with trimmings than the wife be
gins to set up a whine about how she
has been shut up in the house all diry.
He knows his cue.
"Where would you like to go, dearT"
he groans.
'Oh. I suppose we might as well go
to the movies. I don't know where elso
we could go."
"All right, uet on your bonnet."
As a matter of faot hubby would
much prefer to doze there In the old
arm chair, but rather than disturb the
even course of the homo life he con
sents to a nap In the fairly comfort
able Quarters offered by the nearest
moving picture management. Outside
of an occasional Jab in the ntxi wnen
his sleep becomes aggressively audi
ble he mows considerable hay.
Subway trains are favored haunts
for a cssual knitting up of the ravelled
sleavo of care. A man with a sound
nervous system can do considerable
knitting between Brooklyn Bridge and
The Bronx. If he has nxea nis norm
die so that he has to change from
exnreas to local or from local to ex
press his slumbers may be Interrupted,
but not for long. After a few weeks of
practice he gets so he can make the
chance in ma sleep. Tnis prar.uoe ac
counts for a few of the gentlemen who
hunch over double sitting space while
women swing perilously from the
.traps w nii k w.
he broke off. "You couldn't possibly
be with anybody who knows less 'of
the Village than I do." (He was look
ing for a certain tea room.) "Though
I do love this old part of town and
wouldn't live In any other."
But. ah, here It Is. tho Mad Hatter's,
down the Uabbtt Hole, through the
Looking Glass, nnd across Sixth ave
nue, ns It were. And a very low place
down In a cellar. In fact.
"Now," Mr. Mlddleton seld, apolo
getically, "this may not be charac
teristic of Greenwich Village. You
see, we usually dine at homo; we have
an excellent cook. But It looks In
teresting."
After all. It Is rather nice to have
such a place r.ear ono's house. It
makes tea available. Just as Mrs. Gamp
would have cln, so one can put one's
Hps to It when so "disposed."
in this place the furniture Is
wicker. There's a funny old fireplace
in the centre of the room, and llbwal
, quotations from "Alice In Wonder
land" arc on the walls. Mine host
Is a woman, but what can you ex
pect In these days of feminism? She
comes to Inquire how you do, and
to take your order for tea and cakes,
or perhnps.lt's crumpets.
And while you sit there In the cosey
car.dle light, you feel that there are
Inns still, even If some of them have
taken to cellars to escape from their
natural enemies, the rich. Just as
fearful Kansans retreat from an ap
proaching tornado.
On the other side of the fireplace
one discovered certain persons In vel
vet caps and ditto smocks. They
were drinking tea and talking in sub
dued tones.
"I do not know them," Mr. Middle
ton Mil3, "possibly somebody from
The Bronx, as that's where they get
YORKERS
'I've been living up In 190th street,"'
said a man whose favorite god Is Mor
pheus. "Nice up there, but I've de
cided I have to move further down
town."
"Why?" was asked.
"Because no mattor what time I
start home at night I never get there
until morning."
"How's thatr.
"Well, you know how it is with me.
I get through with my work around
11. Then I drop In some place for a
bite or a nip or a congenial half hour.
I get a subway train at Times Square.
It ta k os me an average of three sec
onds after I get aboard to hit the
hay. Four times last week I spent
the rest of the night shooting back
and forth bstween Tho Bronx and At
lantic avenue, Brooklyn.
"When I'd get up to the north ter
minal the guard would wake me up
and ask me where I wanted to go. I'd
tell him and make him promise on tho
beard of his grandfather that he would
see I got off .at my station. The next
I'd hear about It a voice would shout,
'Atlantic avenue.'
"Then I'd board another train and
get another promise from the guard.
Finally, at 6 A. M. or the last epi
sode I struck a conscientious guard
who In some former existence must
havo been a bouncer in a beer hall.
He wasn't wearing any kid gloves
when ho showed me the door of the
train.
"He was an awful strong guard. I
could feel his persuasive clasp on my
arm for days afterward. Luckily I
am not a married man. I'd look fine
arriving home In the cold gray dawn
and handing n hysterical woman a
story about spending the night on tho
subway. She would probably crown
me with a platter and advise me to toll
my tale to the Judge.
"It certainly is not a story cpleuj'
their bohemlan atmosphere down here.
Where were we when wo Btopped?
Talking about plays, were we not?
"You know tho public does not
always know a fino thing. 'The
Torches' was one of the best plays
produced In New York this winter,
and It was a flat failure."
He would not talk much about tho
environment !n which he found him
self except to say that all the bo
hemlans and civilians there were look
ing for truth In their own way. Truth,
freedom and a reasonably priced table
d'hote may safely be reckoned as the
goals toward which all Greenwich Vil
lagers, permanent and transient, go.
"I "wouldn't," he said, "regard Grcen-
wlch Village as nn abstract Latin I
Quarter of New York.j But I do con- 1
dder that It is tho certtro of the most .
important theatre movement In the
country.
"Tho Washington Square Players
would have located here If they could
have found a place nt tho time. They
use professional actors and givo the
amateurs an opportunity too. But tr.e
Provlncetown Players nro pure ama
teurs, producing eome of the best plays
cf the time."
Art and Utility.
Just then some of tho velvet clad
tea drinkers wero engaging in a
spirited argument and Interrupted the
lino of thought. At tirst there was a
confusion of loud voices. And one ex
pected to hear tho clash of steel upon
steel, or at the least to see somebody
dance upon tho table. But no. Thero
were loud calls for a Bible.
Any playwright would have enjoyed
such a situation. The altercation ap
peared to be principally over literature.
Quiet was obtained when somebody
placed a Bible among the teacups and
the chief haranguer set out to prove
his point. He read in a pleasant voice
the death of Absalom; some passages
from Job and the account of the Prodi
gal Son. And we left them In amiable
conversation.
Macdougal street was obscured In a
deep twilight, so that It took Mr. Mld
dleton some time to find tho house.
Just lelow Washington Square and
IN MANY
lated to keep down the high cost of
alimony. Tho funny part of It Is the
wholo thing Is perfectly true. I've
done it dozens of times. That is why I
m tlgurlng on moving within walking
distance of the office."
The experience of this man may be
unusual, but Bclilom do we travel on
the subway without seeing a demon
stration of the desirability of the
trains as sleeping quarters.
For the Tired Shopper,
There Is the woman who has been
shopping all day and Is worn out with
me eternal quest of her sex, dnztng
fitfully and clutching her few precious
packages. Thero is the end seat hog
who has Jimmied his way to a corner
and now enjoys the. fruits of tho fight,
his head lodged comfortably In tho
angle of tho side and end. Thero Is
tho working girl with nchlng feet
drawn instinctively back to avoid tho
pain of contact with other feet heed
less In their hurry, hovering on tho
borderland between tho oblivion of
restful slumber and tho unconscious
ness of pure fatigue.
Across tho aisle Is the corpulent
gentleman whose evening allotment of
pre-prandial cocktails Is beginning to
tell. Ho sleeps shamelessly, with his
head wabbling. There Is tho tired
youngster who has mnde tho round
of the toy shops until small ankles
bid fair to snap nnd who now snuggles
comfortably In his mother's arms.
These aro only a few of tho h-ubway
sleepers, tho more obvious of thorn.
There Is something In the swift move
ment, the sway nnd mvaggnr of New
York's land transports which lulls tlie
senses.
Suburban trains come in for their
share of gratitude from a fagged pub
lie. Many a commuter has slept bliss
fully from New York to Patchogue,
L. I., when his ticket called for on
exit at Jamaica,
Charming Impression Gained in a Tour
With Playwright-Resident and Na:
tives' Practicality Displayed
on your right going down, where the
Provlncotown Players have their lit
tle theatre
It Is on unromantlo house, standing
hear a greengrocer', for Greenwich
Village demonstrates nothing, per
haps, so much as art and Utility going
hand In hand.
After a moment's ascent of tho
winding stairs, the like of which can
be found In about every lodging house
In old New York, Mr. MJddleton found
the custodian of the theatre, or what
ever he is called. And In the dim
hallway this man, an actor (and a
gentleman) found the lights and Il
luminated tho old once front drawing
room, now the theatre.
It is a sort of gray and red com
bination, with lights covered with
ohoese cloth, like fatr ladles on a
motor trip,. The stage Is tiny, and
back of the drop one sees all tho prop
erties for the evening's performance.
nieso are not Just Inanimate- things,
painted canvas and the like, but old
friends which remind one of Alexandre
Dumas the elder, and of Wllhelm
Melster and,Capt. Fracasse. Yes, and
the parties they used to hare at Mms.
Sand's.
While looking over these things
George Cram Cook came (n Just to
make sure that everything was right
for the plays that night He Is a
typical Villager. Alio Susan Olas
pell's husband, and manager (ex of
Itcto, anyway) of the Provlncetown
Players.
Mr. Mlddleton remarked In the best
aside manner of the stage that "Sue"
(Mrs. Susan Glaspell Cook) Is writing
for production In this little theatre
somo of the best one act plays of thla
or any other time.
After some Informal conversation
with Mr. Cook, who la one of those
gray haired, vital looking, brown eyed
men, tho two tourists sought tho
l street again
"I'll tell you what," Mr. Mlddleton
said, "Greenwich Vlllaco Is going to
have to move further down town. As
It Ih, rents are too high for a good
tnanv peoplo who mnde tho place at
tractive and talked of. And persons
havo como down here to live. They
pay a grent deal more rent than tho
houses aro worth and more than the
rest can afford to pay.
Vlllnar Chiirncf rrlatla.
"Oh, ab.lut tho people down here. I
know somo of theirt very well. A good
mfny men and women writing the
best books and pnititlng the best pic
tures you ste live here. Perhaps there
are shams und Insincerity. But every
community has that. Some of the
freedom may not be that at all. But
In most cases tho people are perfectly
sincere."
At that ho commenced to search for
onother place of Interest.
"Htre It is," and ho led through n
doorway flush with tho street and a
threshold over which one. might well
stumble. A legend on some boards
near the door Informed one that this
wns tho "Samovar,'' signifying thnt
food for certain times of tho day could
STRANGE PLACES
An unusual Meeting place of the
city Is the Iron gratings close to the.
big buildings. Many of these grntlngs
nre Just over furnace rooms, whence
heat or steam escapes. Wintry wtndi.
Zero weather. Slrllng snow. Thin
coats buttoned tight to protect and to
hide the absenco of garmenturo be
neath. Gnaw of hunger. Aloes cf
blasted hope. T'mpty pockets. Dank 1
despair. Could ever gilded couch of
king or queen he more luxurious to
racked body than the Iron slats
through which oozo the crumbs of
w.irmth from tho blazing fires of suc
cess." Small wonder men, yes, and
women, too, fight for a berth on tho
sidewalk gratings on cold winter
nlght.s.
"In case you use this tip about fa
mous sleeping places of New York
don overlook tho blx day bicycle
races," warned F. O'C. He la firm In
tho opinion that on a busy night dur
ing tho rprinting season Maillson
Square Garden accommodates as many
guests as one ot our major hotels,
"The only thing that will wake these
hay hounds up Is 11 sprint," continues
my informant. "They seem to know
Instinctively when there is going to be
n brush down on the tracks. You will
i-ce them Jump to their feet wide
nwnko, fan for their favorite, nnd when j
tho sprint slows down, mbslile Into 1
their heats and go on snoring as If '
nothing had ever happened. '
"Yes, tho six, day races aro a great
metropolitan institution. They give
many n rounder a chance to get his
annual forty winks,"
Park benches. What would tha other
half do without them',1
Tho policeman with tho stnllo
crinkles nt tho corners of his eyes
knows the full measure of their value,
lie can toll you, If he will or dares,
how often 1 has turned his back in
FAVOR
be obtained by crossing a court, going
up a ekcloton stairway and presenting
tho usual articles of faith necessary to
partaking of food in a New York
restaurant. 1
Wo did not venture to tost out the
announcement, but paused for a mo
ment in tho dark, where there was-ft
clothesline wearing cither a makeupvor
tho family washing. There was riotB
lng to Indicate which. '
Wo wero again In Sheridan Square.
It is pleasant to contemplate tr)
aspect of that square, with Its quiet,
tho low house nil huddled together
and somo of tho faded roughnesses
glassed over with brilliant blue arid
red and green paint. Thero's tho
Treasuro Box, Don Dlrkcrman's; 'tho
Flower Shop, nnd everything "quaint
and lovely." Though In enumerating
tho flno things of the nquare.'one
would speak of the Mlenlld elm tree
which stands nt tho Junction of the
streete, ns If It would mako off could
It dectdo Just which thoroughfare to
take. , .
Like the rest of the town, Greenwich
Village hns n subway, which has loft
a dreary wasto down miles of street.
But for all that, the Greenwich Vil
lago Theatre Khlncs with undlmmott
luntro on the landscape.
"At that theatre," Mr. Mlddloton
said, "they aro giving 'Efficiency,' an
excellently wrought ipluy from the
hands of Robert II. Davis. If I were
as good an editor as Mr. Davis Is.' I
i don't think I'd write any plays."
It Is a htrango thing that philoso
phers In tho Village or out of It have
never hit upon this odd truth: Peo
ple always want to bo something thoy
are not. An editor wants to write a
play, nnd does: a playwright wants
to bo an editor. 5
(Although It is taking you Into cva
fldenco considerably, Mr. Davis, saya
that his fcole and unattainable ambi
tion Is to ride around on a tire engine
at full sliced, and that he'd never have)
time to stop for the fire.) 4
Now, Polly with a repast was .just
around tho corner. But before going
there the guide must point out a few
more places of Interest: On Macdou
gal street the Lmtch Oven, u, story or
so above which the Liberal Club holds
forth. This may account for some-. of
tho half baked notions of that organi
zation; while on Washington Square
Is the Purple Pup, a mongrel brcdby
free thinking and soft drinks.
Judging from the limousines halted
on the curb In the vicinity of Pollyls,
many a RIverMde-drlver must have
ben present. Mr. Mlddleton most te
rlously rocommends the food there.
But food was not our motive.
Jio Admlttunre.
In the basement tome Bort of club
was In secret session. Some tourists
made ineffectual attempts to get Jn.
They were all but disheartened when
r young man hurried up, gave a mys
terious tap and the door opened, giving
him a chance to greet "George." AAt
which the tourists rushed up football
lshly. "George, wc want to come In too,"
they paid. x
But for all hla bohemlan nppoaranua
"George" was not one to soften to.such
advances, ills eyes blazed unde,r his
great horn spectacles nnd his long,
crisp black hair nroie In Indignation.
"You aro not incinhahs, I believe?"
ho said In a cold, Harvard manner.
i the door upon their curiosity
Almost always, tho guide cald, you
can seo a studious looking young man
carrying his ukelele In hand. This Is
Hobby 1-Mwards, mentioned before, On
occasion he sing"? "one about yio
Village. Singing, making ukelelea and
lending color and emotion to bohemlan
scenes, with an occasional devotion to
the pen, aro Kdwards's interests.
Thought life cannot be entirely con
ducted on these principles. So he sells
fcongs and photographs.
Tho tour must etui nt 15S Waverley
place so that Mr. Mlddleton, who en
tertains most ntniablo feelings toward
his neighbors, few of whom ho knows
at all, can devote himself to the new
plays ho Is writing with Guy Boltpn.
Here Is one Village truth: Same
down there are operating on a flvo
mile front. The ensemble of free Ideas,
strange appearance and curious man
ners has a sort of desperation which
resembles Montmartre in no particular.
But as the eldor Wellcr might say,
"Vothcr It's worth while goln" through
so much to learn so little, as the char
ity boy said ven ho got to the end of
tho alphabet. Is a matter of tasto. I
royther think It Isn't."
order that a drifter may sink for a
time Into sleep.
Not all of those who nccept tho hos
pitality of the city by putting up on
its park benches havo been handed
tho knockout blow. Somo of them
havo experienced no more In the" bout
for fame and fortuno than a short Jab
or n right to tho Jaw Others liavn
only started to try tr scrape up an ac
quaintance with tho flcklo dame and
the golden wreath.
One of tho most expensive of New
York's sleeping places M tho Metro
politan Opera. Thero are per.'-onn who
cannot but becomo drows) under thu
Intluenco of music.
"I Mept fifteen dollars right Into
nothingness last night." confessed 1
regular operagoer. "But I do not re
gret tho money. Whenever I fed my,
nerves beginning to Hiinp I buy my
self a comfortnble. seat nt tho Metro
politan. Tho music Is like a power
ful sedative. I awaken a new man."
Thero was a man back in our town
whoso favorite sleeping place was thu
weather beaten old Indian In front of
our principal cigar store. His happi
ness was to lean against tho worthy,
warrior for houri nt n time, so deep
in slumber it tool; t-evernl whacks on
tho back to rouse him.
Tho man back in "ur town line Ills
counterpart here in Ni w York. When
necessity calls anything answers. A
hallway, tho steps of n church or
cliool, a cab, tho sldo of n building,
an nrenway, the dressing room couch
In a restaurant, tho walling room of
a hotel, a basement, u ioof. And byi
the way, tho waiting vomm of rail
way stations dn not suffer from un
popularity, being us tlic fii-r rorc i
snookeries.
New Yoik'a Sand Man la uol i,ic
Ocular. To hint a sleep is a sleep, r,
gardless of its Retting. And by thu
way, how about a little sl'jeta.

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