Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 237, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 9 October 1918 — TALES FROM BIG CITIES [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

TALES FROM BIG CITIES

His Classification Pointed Though Not Polite NEW YORK.—-There Is a little case down on Houston street that is patronized by the canaille, the curious and the small sprinkling of the Broadwaj opulents. The wine is red, yellow, purple and white, and flows from various

spigots within the diner’s reach. One may become corned between the soup and the entree and the check Is the same. A long-haired Bohemian leads the orchestra and Is. repaid for his plaintive notes by the showers of small change from the diners. At about ten in the evening sentiment reaches the high tide. It is the hour of illusions. Flushed by the wine, the motley crowd turns selfishness into courage

and the parasite becomes heroic. There are squalls and sunshine, tears and ribald laughter. And then at .12 when the lights go out the false joy U stripped of its mask and crumbles into black despair. In the center of the case is a small polished spot where dancing is per mitted. It is always so crowded that all the dancers can do is mill about like the crowds at the gallery entrance of the Metropolitan when Caruso sings oi Chalif dances. An electric apparatus throws various colored rays on the dancers. The other night a spark from the-machine fell into folds of chiffon worn by one oi the dancers. There was a flash of flame and a scream. Pandemonium reigned and then on the fringe of the crowd someone charged into the thick of it. He grabbed the frightened girl away from hysterical men and women and skillfully extinguished the fire. The crowd fell back. The rescuer was a clean-limbed young American sailor who had dropped Into the place with a group of rubberneck tourists The fiddlers struck up the “Star-Spangled Banner” and the young man, abashed, rushed from the place, not even stopping to get his hat. Outside he said to a policeman: “I don’t want to be found here among a bunch of nuts.’’ Boy Soldier of Fortune Laughs at War’s Mishaps Bi OSTON.— A real soldier of fortune is Fred W. Thomas, a youth not yet in I his twenties, now in a Red Cross hospital, where he was taken following the torpedoing of a ship on which he sailed recently. This adventuroue

youngster has set to work the machinery of the state departments of two countries by his efforts to fight. Secretary Lansing had him released from the English army, upon his mother’s plea of his extreme youth, but Thomas ran away as soon as he reached home. He sailed on a munition ship from this port to Italy and made his way again into England, where he enlisted in the engineers immediately he learned the United States had_. entered the war. In 1916 Thomas ran away from

home and enlisted in the British transport service. But this proved too tame for him, so he enlisted in a bombing squad of the Sherwood Foresters, from which he was honorably discharged upon Secretary Lansing’s plea. He succeeded In enlisting again and was assigned to a British mine sweeper. It was blown up, the youngster receiving a skull fracture. He returned to America, incapacitated for further service, but persuaded a Passaic surgeon to operate and relieve the injury.' The operation proved so successful that Thomas almost immediately enlisted on the Hattie Gage, a coastwise freighter, which was sunk by a German submarine the day after she put to sea. Then he returned home, bid his mother good-by and re-enlisted in the Brit* Ish army in New York. He was sent to a training school at Quebec. He Was on his way to Europe when the ship was torpedoed, again landing him Jn the hospital. Careers of Precocious Bandits Nipped in the Bud CHICAGO. —Baby banditry in Chicago ain’t what it used to be, Watson. Ask George Kirkwood and Kaleman Patakey, two eighteen-year-old highwaymen who are held at the Fillmore street police station. George and Kaleman told of their exploits and their prelimi- '

nary conferences. “Huh, what’s the use of workin’ for twelve bucks a week when we can go out with a couple of gats and make a hundred iron men an hour?” queried Patakey of George. George opined there was logic in it. They got the gats, also masks and flashlights. Under the Chicago and Northwestern track subway at Kinzie street and Kedzie avenue they started their career. The first victim reacted prop-

erly. He registered fear and gave up his cash, but it was only 23 cents. “Keep your paltry cash,” safd Bandit Patakey, majestically. “It will never be said of us that we take the money of the poor.” They decided they were on the wrong stamping ground. They went over toward Garfield park. It was then two o’clock in the morning. “Here you, where you going? Come here,” demanded Patrolman Edward Reindeau. Out came one of Patakey’s trusty gats. He now had both of them. “Back up, you big ‘bull,’ ’”he roared, “or I’ll drill you.” The copper failed to retreat He knocked the gat out of the bandit’s hand and knocked the bandit down. George beat it He Ws caught by Detective Sergeants Curtin and Roche, attracted by the sound of shooting as Jhe policeman fired over George’s head. Comedy now came close to tragedy. Bandit Patakey drew his other revolver, surprising Patrolman Reindeau, and had jammed it into the patrolman’s side when the policeman succeeded in turning his hand and wresting it from him. Sailor to Get Wooden Leg That Has Traveled Far SAN FRANCISCO. —How a wooden leg lost by its owner traveled almost around the world and was finally restored was told in the barge office by Patrick H. Quinn, United States shipping commissioner. According to Mr. Quinn, Daniel Egan, an able seaman.

four years ago wMle crossing a railroad track in Oakland, CaL, had his leg cut off. Egan couldn’t get work as a sailor and for three years he scrubbed, washed and cleaned out saloons, saving every penny until he had accumulated enough money to buy a new leg. The good ship Westboro was looking for men and Dan, with a quick step, walked to the pier, where the ship was moored, and straightway

signed up for a voyage to foreign waters. Things went well with Egan until he struck up an acquaintance with a man named Stupy. Stupy singled out Egan from among the crew and they were shore companions when the vessel reached San Pedro. Stupy and Egan imbibed freely there. When Egan got his bearing he discovered that his leg was gone and so was Stupy. That was seven months ago. The Westboro went to France. England, South America, Panama and other ports without Egan. To each port Egan sent a letter, beseeching the captain of the vessel to send back his leg. Egan wrote the commissioner all about Ms escapade with Stupy and Mr. Quinn became interested. He tried in many ways to locate the missing leg. - T S. Trice, who is employed in the United States sMpping Office, also took a hand in the game. When he entered the office the other day he espied a long bundle, directed to J. H. Stupy, SS. Westboro. The name was familiar to Trice. He looked up his files and found that Stupy was the man who had been with Egan when the two had started out to drink San Pedro dry many months ago. The commissioner sent the limb to where Egan 18 waiting patient!’- / v - '