Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 105, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 4 May 1915 — Page 3

SEEING LIFE with JOHN HENRY

(Copyright, 1915, py the McClure Newspaper Syndicate.)

SAY! Did you ever burst right into Bohemia and with the 'aid of a complaining pocketbook try to Help yourself to a Hilarious evening? , Tag me —I’m It. Of course, I don’t mean Bohemia in the highbrow sense —nix. Not one of those quaint retreats with the lemoncolored atmosphere where sad-eyed Artistic Temperaments foregather to chop spaghetti with a fork and bark hand-made repartee at each other over a beaker of absinthe —nix. I mean the Bohemia so called by the Buyer from Max Plahn’s Universal Emporium, Waukesha, Wis., who hits New York along In August and leaves the imprint of his sandals all over Longacre Square and adjacent byways.

The Bohemia, so called, which is composed of incandescent lights disgulshed as rosebuds; Bulgarian waiters disguised as second-story workers, and a menu card which, without any disguise, leads the unwary directly tb a Petition in Bankruptcy. Ever since ye’ve been back in New York, Peaches has been Handing out Hints that she’d like to have me take her over the hurdles into that Fair Land where rag-time and breaded pork chops do a sister act —to one of those real devilish New York Cabarets. • Rub his ankles. Doctor; the blood has rushed to his Bean! I tried to explain to friend wife that the Cabaret is an Institution invented solely for the purpose of giving hiccups to Gold-plated Strangers, but Peaches was strong for a Peek at the Night-Life of New York and It was up to me to furnish the opera glasses. She wanted to know if I thought she could toy with a tenderlbln steak In some Musical Soup-House without having a policeman call her by her first name. , I told her I was away on sick leave the morning Cabaret Etiquette had

"It Was a Brave Sight to See Them Deploy by Fours."

been passed around, but I’d ask my friend Hep Hardy about It. Hep is what they call In the laurajeans Prince of Good Fellows. As near as I can size him up a Prince of Good Fellows puts in twelve hours a day trying to stab himself to death with Bronx cocktails, and the other twelve hours are descreaming for help and icewater. Mind you, I’m not Knocking Hep. His father cut out the breathing business about four years ago and' left Hep wish $200,000 and a long dry ■pell on the Inside. Hep has been in the surf ever since. His only recreation between bars Is golf. He invented the G. A. R. ■core in that game—out in ’6l, back in *65. I explained my sad plight to Hep over the ’phone and, later on, with Peaches all dolled up like a Corot landscape, we met Hep by appointment in front of Bustaflddlestrings Cabaret - Hep in hip, man-about-town scenery was a sartorial dream in black and white. He had everything oa, including half a bun. “Well, if it isn’t John Henry!" he hagueandhagued. “Touch thumbs with your old pal!** Then in a side speech he wanted to know what musical show had loaned me its prize chicken. I introduced him to my wife and he tried to square himself by explaining that now that his right eye was properly focused she didn’t look at an like a chicken—she waa more of the squab type. Then with a merry burst of ver-mouth-laden laughter he led the way into the Cabaret The head waiter met ns at the edge of the reservation. Sep slipped him something that ■sade a noise like five dollars and the

by George V. Hobart

John Henru on Cabarets

H. W. bowed. Hep slipped him again and he bowed lower. Hep slipped him another little map of the mint and H. W.’s forehead scraped the floor. The room was a-dazzle with Gaudy Lights. Rag-time music hurried away from a preoccupied orchestra, hit the celling, bounced off and scampered around the tables. Laughter, both refined and careless, tried to drown the clatter of dishes—and won out. “So this is |Bohemia!” sighed Peaches as the head waiter pulled out a chair and dared her to sit down. “John, dear, do point out the celebrities to me, won’t you?” “They haven’t come in yet," I gurgled, and Hep let loose a laugh so nearly like that of a nervous coyote that four waiters rushed up, prepared to take any kind of a tip. Just as we were sinking gracefully into our plush chairs, and the Sicilian brigand was about to take our order, who should float into the dry-dock but Max Mincenstein, one of Hep’s friends —after 2 A. M. I don’t know how Max ever pressed close enough to get on Hep’s staff. Max has money. He’ll always have it —the same money. Max is a lazy loosener. 'When the waiter returns with the check Max is the busiest talker in the bunch. Max loves money. Money loves Max. They are inseparable. Whenever Max passes a bank he takes off his hat and walks on his toes. I spoke his name rapidly when I introduced Max to Peaches, but as she was busy trying to lead a swift life by ordering a seltzer lemonade it didn’t make much difference what I called him. Hep must have been sitting over a trapdoor, because suddenly wine-cool-ers began to festoon themselves around about him. Blue wine-coolers appeared at his right, magenta winecoolers at his left, and ice, drift ice

as far North as the eye could see. Presently a platoon of waiters began to annoy the corks and then followed a correct imitation of the second day at Gettysburg. One cork went over quickly to another table and struck a fat moneyed person from Pittsburgh between the second and third floor of his accordion chin. He thought it was one o’clock, so he arose hurriedly and lefjt the room.

Meanwhile Max was overboard with a splash. For the first ten minutes he had three waiters on the verge of nervous prostration trying to supply the suds fast enough. But Max didn’t play Rugby rules —he used two glasses and both hands. After a time, however, he feathered both oars and drifted aimlessly with the tide.

“Pardon me!" said Peaches to Max, in an effort to pass ont a bit of Society Salve, “but do you find it interesting—this glimpse of Bohemia?" “Bohemia nothing!" bubbled Max. “This joint is Cosmopolitan—sure thing! The chef is a Frenchman; the pastry cook is A Greek; the head waiter is a German; they got a Hungarian violinist and the proprietor has a >vife and two kids in Jersey City, but he don’t go there much. Bohemian, not on your powder puff!” Peaches took the count, then she leaned over and whispered to me, “What is he? —a painter?” "Oh! he’s a painter all right,” “Water colors or oil?" she asked. “Oil,” I said; “fusel oil.” “Has he ever done any good thing?" she queried. "Yes,” I said; “Hep Hardy.” “Oh! Tin enjoying this so much," she coo-cooed. giving Max and his past performances the sudden pass-by. “Who is that man at that other table with the fawn-like eyes and the long bairn

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER, IND.

He was the night-watchman of •> apartment house uptown, but I gave her an easy speech to the effect that he was BUI Mendelssohn, a grandson of old man Mendelssohn, who once wrote a wedding march so carelessly that it is now used as a coon song.

She gasped and gurgled with delight—in Bohemia and having the time of her young life, so I let her dream. In the meantime Hep, with a bucket of wine, was busy trying to put out the fire in the well Max used as a neck. Every time a waiter looked at our table Hep’s roll would blaze up. Peaches presently concluded she’d broaden out a bit on Art and the Old Masters, so she asked Max if he liked Rembrandt. Max looked at her out of the corner of his eye and murmured, “Much ’bliged, but I’m up to here now!” ‘ Then he pointed at his Adam’s Apple and fell asleep. Hep was beginning to see double. Every once in a mile he’d stop humming "Here Comes My Daddy Now—

“The H. W.’s Forehead Scrapped the Floor.”

Papa, Papa, Papa, Papa!" then he’d close one eye and with the other look over at Peaches and hand her a sad, sweet smile. , ' It’s a gay life, boys! When our expensive food finally arrived Hep was gazing at his fingers and wondering how they got on his hands, while Max, the genial pest, with his chin driven through his shirtfront, was over on Dream Avenue, about to hitch up his favorite nightmare and take a spin through Bugland.

Peaches was toying with a spoonful of consomme Julienne and I was parleying shoestring potatoes back on my fork, when suddenly there came a great clanging,of bells, doors rattled and banged, women screamed and the orchestra fell out of a back window —all except the bass fiddle. He fell in a bowl of soup left for him by an obliging but hurrying waiter. Max woke up suddenly, looked about wild-eyed and slid gracefully under the table.

Hep, with a roll of bills in each hand, tried to stand up and defy the universe, but he toppled over among the wine-coolers and passed peacefully away again in cold storage. A fat man with a beard and a dialect ran around in circles exclaiming that he was the proprietor, but nobody pinned a medal on him, and he burst into sobs.

Then he rushed over to our table and yelled, “Get out! Get out!" “Why should we get out?” I inquired, placing a piece of fried chicken tenderly in his outstretched hand. “Because it’s closing up time and I always forget about it. The police have to come and remind me.” Then he threw the fried chicken at the lady cashier and faded out of our Uvea I looked in the direction of the. door. Yes, there they were —an Army Corps of Cops, marching steadily forward into the Palace of Pies, fearless in the face of danger. It was a brave sight to see them deploy by fours and reaching forward with their nightsticks knock a hunk of beefsteak out of a hungry diner’s hand. I grabbed Peaches by, the elbow and we beat it from' Bohemia while the beating was good. The last I saw of Max he was acting as a foot-rest for the General commanding the Fifth Brigade, while Hep slept peacefully on amid the up-turned wine-coolers and the ice-floes. Bohemia, eh? \ So this is what they call Having A Good Time in New York!

Mr. Umpire, I called you Bad names —put me on the Bench. This Burg is the home of. the Gink who can’t keep his Temperature down unless he is continually sniffing the odor of burning money. This Gink’s idea of being a gentleman Is to get into a Tuxedo make-up and swap gags with a bunch of booze biters while Mamnja has to tie herself up in a Mother Hubbard and stay home alone till Papa gets through being a Good Fellow. Cabarets, eh? Hereafter me for the little Ptomaine Parlor where the dillpickles hide behind the bowl of pulverized sugar and wink at you when the waitress splashes an omelette on your shoulder; But Peaches thought it was all perfectly lovely. “And .you’ll take me some night soon," she marshmallowed, “where we can see some real turkey trotting, won’t you, John, dear!” A glass of water. Nurse; he’s faint* tag- ; ,

POLITE TO VICTIMS

German Sea Raiders Are Courteous and Generous. British Skippers Tell of Kind Treatment Received From Commanders of Kaiser's Submarines —Art Given Wine and Cigars. London. —The commanders of the German sea raiders are treating the victims of their raids with excessive courtesy and even generosity. I have Just obtained from Capt. Leonard Malley of the Ellerman liner Andalusian some further details of his meeting with the famous Lieut. Otto von Weddigen, who, by sinking four British warships, has made the most successful record of all the undersea chiefs. He now commands the U-29, which attacked the Andalusian off the Scilly Islands.

In leaving his vessel Captain Malley painfully injured his side; Von Weddigen ordered him taken into the cabin, where his hurts were bandaged. The cigars and port wine were set out and over these the British skipper- told the German as politely as possible what he thought of the Von Tirpitz policy concerning merchantmen. “It is our duty,” replied Lieutenant von Weddigen simply. "At the same time we do not want to take civilian lives. It is the ships we want to kill, not the men.” Up to this time Captain Malley did not know the name of his captor. He now thought he recognized the German commander’s face from pictures he had seen in illustrated weeklies and asked him: “Aren’t you the man who sunk four British cruisers last autumn?” “Yes,” responded Von Weddigen, without emotion. “I was commanding the U-9 then.” They had a conversation of about an hour. The lieutenant said that his boat, one of the latest type, was fitted with two machine guns instead of one, as in the case of older submarines. Traveling awash he could catch anything up to 17 knots. Speaking in general of the war, he expressed deep regret that it should have proved inevitable. “It is an awful business,” he remarked with feeling.,. “It is my personal hope that it may soon be over. Britain and Germany ought not to be at enmity; we ought to be allies. Just think of it—Britain as the world’s greatest sea power and the great German army together; we could command the world.”

In the meantime the crew of the Andalusian had been taken from the boats. These the submarine took ip tow and the British crew were massed on deck. The men, to whom the German officers handed cigars, were packed tightly together and had to stand up. Two of the submarine crew

CAPTURES $300 PRIZE

Miss Lillian Soskin, a New York girl, who has won the S3OO prize offered by Barnard College for Women. She has specialized in economics and has been active in welfare work.

HAD MUCH CAUSE TO CACKLE

Took Hen a Week to Do It, But She Laid Amazing Big Egg. Kellogg, Idaho. —Mrs. George Juris of Deadwood gulch brought in an egg laid by a seven-months-old White Leghorn pullet The egg measured over 9% inches around its greatest circumference and was larger than a goose egg. When it was opened the egg was found to contain a second egg, perfect in every respect having shell, yolk and white and being normal in size. The large egg contained no yolk, but Mrs. Juris was able to frost two large cakes with the beaten white of the egg. The little hen was a week laying the egg.

Dug His Own Grave,

South Norwalk, Conn.—Having a premonition of death, Dwight E. Hewitt an eccentric farmer, dug his own grave a month ago. It was eight inches short however, and his burial was delayed two hours, while grave diggers enlarged the grave.

“BUCKING THE BLANKET IN CAMP

•Bucking the blanket” is part of the initiation of each new arrival in the British camps on the continent. A son of Scotland Is here shown being tossed In the air.

stood by with revolvers in their hands. When they parted one of the officers waved his hand and said: “Be good enough to give our respects to Mr. Churchill”—Winston Churchill, British first lord of the admiralty.

Captain Williams of the Indian City, whose craft was torpedoed off the Sclllies, was invited on board the submarine. The captain of the raider brought out a box of cigars and a bottle of wine and conversed with the British sailor while the ship’s boats with their crews were being towed to the islands.

Suddenly two British patrol boats were sighted. Captain Williams was politely ordered by the German commander to get into one of his own boats. The submarine then made off. The patrol boats chased her and fired, but the submarine was too fast for them and easily got away.

The Adenwen was also torpedoed by Von Weddigen 25 miles off the Gasquets. The captain asked the German to spare his ship, but the commander replied that as war was war he was unable to accede to the request, adding, “I am very, very sorry to have'to sink your ship." The crew was allowed ten minutes

BOY’S LEG BROKEN 25 TIMES

Sister’s Skull Thin as Parchment — Rare Bone Disease Interests Physicians.

Detroit, Mich.—Two little children, Christina, six, and her brother, Joseph, ten, afflicted with the rare disease osteomalasia, the lack of calcium in the bones, which causes them to break were presented to the surgeons attending the Central States Orthopedic club in the Children’s Free hospital. The case of these little children, an extremely pathetic tragedy of nature, held the Intense interest of the physicians for nearly an hour. Dr. W. G. Stern of Cleveland presented the case, bringing the little ones from his home. He said that the affliction was undoubtedly due to a congenital defect traceable to alcoholism in parents or grandparents.

Doctor Stern explained that the children’s bones were so fragile that he could break them between his thumb and forefinger with hardly an effort. One of the boy’s legs has been fractured twenty-five times and his arms and the other leg have also suffered many fractures. They knit very badly, however. The little girl’s skull is of the consistency of parchment and so thin that the palpitation of the brain can easily be felt from without. Doctor Stern has been treating these children for five years, giving them adrenalin, a preparation for hardening the bones, and an improvement is being noted.

NOVEL COVERING FOR BOOZE

Typewriter Covers Conceal Whisky Shipped to Citizens In Legally Dry West Virginia. Fairmont, W. Va. —The mystery of the enormous number of typewriters carried on Baltimore & Ohio railroad trains from Oakland, Md., and Point Marion, Pa., to this city, has been solved. It looked like the typewriter business had taken on a great impetus, but now the secret is out. Typewriter covers merely were used as a covering for booze brought into the state. No one suspected anything when a few men began using the covers, but when the number grew so large the secret was exploded.

Infant Hurled 50 Feet; Unhurt

Washington, N. J. Five persona were painfully hurt when their automobile overturned, but Mrs. Guy Scotts’ Infant son, nine months old. escaped injury, although he was thrown fifty feet into * nearby field.

to launch their lifeboats. The Germans gave the British a box of cigars and wanted to know if they had enough to eat.

FOUND SNAKE CAVE ON FARM

Called Out the Neighbors, Who Helped Him Kill f 25 Fighting Blue Racers. Findlay, O. James Bookwaiter while plowing on his farm In Amanda township saw a snake crawl into a small opening in the ground. He investigated, picked up a shovel, and with a little digging discovered a small cave occupied by scores of snakes*. Mr. Bookwaiter called for help, and when a small army of men were through with the slaughter 125 had been killed. All were of the blue racer variety. Several of the larger ones showed fight, but they were killed without much trouble. ,

Enjoy Luxuries While Stealing.

New York. —Five burglars smoked cigars, drank cocktails and ate chocolates while stealing $5,000 worth of loot from a Harlem flat.

MISS ESTHER CLEVELAND

An interesting photograph of Miss Esther Cleveland, known the country over as “the White House baby,” engaged in a game of tennis at a California resort. Miss Cleveland is the daughter of the late Grover Cleveland, who was president of the United States from 1885 to 1889 and from 1893 to 1897. Her mother was recently married to Prof. Thomas Preston of Princeton, N. J. ■ ■ • 1 - ■ ' " 1 t

“WAR MAID” IS NEW FOOTMAN

Lady Randolph Churchill Starts Domastic Service Innovation. ' London.—lt has been left to Lady Randolph Churchill to create the “war maid” to take the place of the footman gone to the front She 1* a distinct creation. She wears the uniform of a footman above the waist and of a parlor maid downwards. A. white starched collar with a neat black bow adorns the neck, as in the case of a man. •• ‘