The Tatler, Aug. 1920

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One Thing Is Certain And That Is That These Three Songs Will Outsell All Songs of the Season ^♦> a «>^>*^>*^y»>

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VOL. II AUGUST, 1920 NO. 7 More Impressions DOROTHY DICKSON : A moonbeam dancing on the water, a fragile reed waving in a southern breeze, Irene Castle at her best. FATTY ABRUCKLE : A good natnred hippopotamus turned acrobat, a large pair of overalls at a debutante dance. NAZIMOVA : A red-pepper poultice on a drab world's spine, a sad lady having a tooth drilled, adolescence with its eyes opened. SAM BERNARD : A delicatessen dealer trying to use the telephone, wisdom con- cealed by dialect, a bald head speaking through a toupee. LEON ERROL: The Volstead Act backsliding, the Eighteenth Amendment gone crazy with the heat, a three-legged horse wobbling around the Belmont track. JOHNNY DOOLEY : A set of clock-springs suddenly released, a flea seeking a vulnerable spot on a Scotchman's shin. WILLIAM COURTENAY: A sublimated Saturday Evening Post clothing ad.; Beau Brummcl on Broadway, a composite of the two Barrymores, Jack and Lionel, a perfect gent. MARY PICKFORD : A plate of pink ice cream melting in the summer sun, an animated bit of Dresden china, a Peter Pan in skirts. ED WYNN: An 1876 edition of Hostelter's almanac set to music, a folding chair which collapses during a funeral and sets all the congregation into hysterics, an over- grown kid who has just swiped a blueberry pie off the top shelf. LOUIS MANN : An Arrow collar ad with a slight accent, a sensitive plant with all its nerves exposed. RAYMOND HITCHCOCK: A Phil May cartoon with an American sense of humor, an old friend of the family, a plug hat that hasn't heard of the Eighteenth Amendment. EDDIE CANTOR: A whole Hebrew picnic party riding on a merry-go-round, the Bronx express at 5 :30 whistling for a curve. BEN TURPIN : A hot-dog sandwich at a Delmonico banquet.

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THE TATLER Calendar for August Fri. 6 . Sat. 7 . Sun. 8 . Mon. 9 . Tue. 10 . Wed. 11 . Thu. 12 . Fri. 13 . Sat. 14 . Sun. 1 . . . Doug Fairbanks took out a patent on his smile, 1911. Beer sold for a nickel at Coney Island, 1918. Mon. 2 . . . George M. Cohan discovered the American flag, 1902. A chorus girl in Pharaoh's Phollies of 1920 B. C. robbed of all her jewelry. Tue. 3 . . . John Barrymore flopped from comedy to tragedy, 1916. Wed. 4 . . . Speculators were caught profiteering in tickets for Noah's ark, 2349 B. C. Speculators don't seem to have changed much, 1920 A. D. Thu. 5 . . . John Drew changed tailors, 1909, and his acting showed improvement. Nat Goodwin changed wives, 1910, and his acting showed improve- ment. Eva Tanguay gave up wearing tights, 1942. Kitty Gordon covered up her back, 1931. Ziegfeld picked a homely chorus girl for the Follies of 1998. Sarah Bernhardt retired from the stage, 1912, 1913, 1914, 1915, 1916, 1917, 1918, 1919, 1920. Eddie Foy began to star his family, 1913. Siphon began to be used for comedy, 1821. Siphon not quite so good for comedy, 1920. Belasco refused to make a curtain speech, 1941. The shimmy was translated into Hindoo, Spanish and Afghanistanish, 1920. Ushers first hired because of their large hands, 1888. Last Charlie Chaplin imitation given, Z003. Knock on wood! Beds were invented, 1292. Beds were put on the stage 1293. Sun. 15 . . . William S. Hart learned how to shoot, 1899. A remarkable woman bought two theatre seats without any unneces- sary conversation, 1902. Mantell dropped Shakespeare, 1945. Richard Carle had hair, 1869. The original Florodora sextette began to multiply, 1901. A member of the Drama League caught himself applauding at the Winter Garden, 1919. Mary Pickford and Theda Bara swapped movie roles, 1930. The first spy drama appeared on Broadway, 1914. Someone poking around in Greenwich Village accidentally discovered the little theatre movement, 1912. . Fudge was first eaten at matinees, 1854. George Arliss lost his monocle, 1907, and was forced to retire from the stage until he got a new one. Sun. 22 . . . People now living can recall the time when Booth Tarkington didn't write plays. Belasco cut down expenses by kicking out the orchestra in 1914. Mon. 23 . . . David Warfield talked about doing " Shylock " in " The Merchant of Venice" in 1916, 1917, 1918, 1919. Tue. 24 . . . The " teller in a bank " dialogue was invented, 1731. The " teller in a bank " dialogue still going strong, 1920. Wed. 25 . . . Trained seals were abolished from circuses, 3000 A. D. A New York cast went on the road intact, 1938. Thu. 26 . . . The Hippodrome gave rain checks to everyone who got splattered by the high diving act, 1922. A pair of 1920 anti-profiteering overalls were placed on exhibition in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1940. (Continued on page 4) Mon. 16 Tue. 17 Wed. 18 Thu. 19 Fri. 20 Sat. 21

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THE TATLER Jessica Brown, At The Winter Garden

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THE TATLER Next to Reading Matter By LISLE BELL ' | ' HE average magazine stoiy these days *■ starts off with half a dozen paragraphs and an illustration, and then jumps to the advertising section, where it trickles along between canned milk and floor wax. It's hard to read straight through even a love passage without spilling over into the paid matter, and getting a distorted idea of what the author is saying. Unless you pay strict attention to the " continued on " guide lines, the result is apt to be something like this : Halfway down the path, they came to a little shady nook . . . recommended by a generation of users. She was conscious of his manly form . . . built of white pine, and reinforced at the corners. He was her ideal of a prince . . . one of the fifty-seven varieties. As for him, he could not help regarding her . . . the world's most perfect talking machine. It seemed to him that he would have to tell her how much he loved her . combining the purest ingredients. He stroked her hair ... as different from ordinary macaroni as tenderloin steak is from round steak. She nestled close to his side, ready to . refuse substitutes. " Dearest," he murmured . . . look- ing like new. " Dearest, this is the moment I have longed for . . . because of its pleasing favor." She did not answer at once. Her thoughts seemed ... at the nearest grocery. He took her hand in his, and held her close . . . allowing the skin to breathe. " Will you be mine ? " he asked, in a tone . recommended by boards of health. " I have often thought of being a wife," she answered, after a little pause . designed to bring out the curves of the figure. " But before I accept," she went on, " I thought I would . . . ask the man who owns one." "If you mean your father, I am sure he will give his consent. You name the day, and I'll . . . keep contents hot for 24 hours." He folded her in his arms, and his kisses were . . . supplied direct from the factory. " Say that you will marry me," he re- peated. " Very well," she whispered, " I'll . . . try it for thirty days." With that he kissed her again and again . . showing many different styles and patterns. A JEALOUS WONDROUS little maid was Sue, So soft and shy and cozy; With twinkling eyes of deepest blue, And velvet cheeks so rosy. Yet somehow all the other maids Did not appreciate her; They never lost a chance, the jades, To backbite and berate her. Which was because — so I infer — The lass so sweet and lissom, Had all the fellows fond of her Because she liked to kissom {Continued from page 2) Fri. 27 ... A musical show advertised a chorus of forty, and actually had that many, 1925. New York producers built a new theatre and dedicated it to Anthony Comstock, 0000. . Percy Mackaye and Al Woods are planning to collaborate on a play, 1985. Electric signs were abolished on Broadway 1999. . E. W. Dunn was seen without a waistcoat and Frank Wilstach with- out a simile, 1930. John and Lionel Barrymore are carrying spears in Ethel's new chew- ing gum comedy, " Spearmint," 1956. . Movie houses throughout the country were closed today to give the ticket sellers a holiday, 1926. Vegetables first made their appearance on the stage in 1870, coming from the direction of the gallery. . A burlesque actress has just retired at the age of seventy-three, being the youngest actress in burlesque ever to retire. Sat. 28 . Sun. 29 . Mon. 30 . Tue. 31 .

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THE TATLER Proving The Case Against Spinelli When illte. Spin- elli, reputed to have the shapeliest legs in the icorld, 0 a m e h crv from Paris, her claim to fame teas promptly chal- lenged by numerous Amer- ican beauties, who said they'd prove she teas irrony, and here are three who seem to have done it. Louise Groody

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THE TATLER THE TATLER Published Monthly by The Tatler Publishing Co. 1571 Broadway Strand Theatre Bldg. New York City WALTER E. COLBY, Editor By subscription one dollar a year. Single copies 10 cents, obtained from all newsdealers. No contribution will be returned unless accompanied by stamped and addressed envelope. The Tatler does not hold itself responsible for the loss or non-return of unsolicited contributions. Copyright, 1920, by tbe Tatler Publishing Co. William Mendelssohn Business Manage! Application for entry as second class matter .pending Wkat Ho, Mr. Volstead? WE feel it our duty to call the attention of Mr. Volstead, the father of the prohibition enforcement act, to the fact that a great deal of drinking is going on along Broadway. We have made a thorough in- vestigation and are prepared to give names and places. . It is one of those " painful duties " which come to magazine writers of the newer school. This is sensational, of course, but in order to sell these days, magazine stuff must be sensational. Mr. Volstead should prepare himself for a shock. Only the other day we saw Mr. William Courtenay preparing a cocktail. He made it right at a sideboard in the Morosco Theatre with many people watching him. These people could be called as witnesses. He gave the cocktail to a lady and she drank it and said it was " very good." Those were her very words. He then made one for himself and drank it and repeated her very words. People in the audience were languishing but he did not pass them around. He did not give the present writer one, and that is why we are exposing him. We also understand that Mr. Courtenay prepares and drinks these cocktails every evening and also on Wednesday and Satur- day afternoon. But the worst is yet to come. He passed through the dining room and into the living room with a whole tray of cocktails and gave them to the guests at the house, and this right in the heart of New York. One of the guests named Willie became very tipsy. We have seen Mr. Jack Hazzard standing on the upper deck of the night boat with ? pint flask in his hip pocket exposed. Many people saw this. Several of the passengers retired with him into the cabin of the boat and consumed this liquor. We saw Mr. William Collier take twenty drinks right out of a decanter in one evening in " The Hottentot." Both he and the butler admitted that it was old rye. Whenever Mr. Collier tapped a bell, the butler brought another drink. There were men in the audience who rushed out with their hands over their eyes, after Mr. Col- lier's tenth drink, saying that they could stand it no longer. One or two other per- sons in Mr. Collier's party were seen to take drinks, quite openly. Mr. Leon Errol has been quite defiant in appearing right in public in an inebriated condition. He has hardly been able to navigate at times and has broken the furni- ture and chinaware quite promiscuously. Thousands of people have seen him during the past season and he has perhaps caused more envy than any man in New York. Others who have been seen mixing or taking drinks openly before enlightened audiences are Mr. Sam Bernard and Mr. Charles Cherry. We feel that Mr. Volstead should know this as this is a magazine with a conscience and which while liberal in its ideas, cannot stand idly by and see his law disregarded as flagrantly as it is on Broadway at the present time.

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THE TATLER The Latest Style — Paint WHAT is going to reduce the high price of clothing? Overalls won't do it, but something has been found — paint. Tights arc so expensive this season, and they wear out so quickly, that the pro- prietor of one of the girlie shows on Broadway has adopted paint as a substi- tute. Paint covers the — er — what shall we call them — of all the girls, and they look quite snappy — durned if they don't. There's something in that. Cloth is sold by the yard. Paint is not. Paint is sold by the gallon, like something else used lo be. Nobody has ever stopped to figure out how many yards of paint there arc in a gallon, but there are a great manv — also a great many pairs of tights, if we may- descend to the language of the stage. Economical? You said il. Judging by the musical shows we have seen recently, and the amount of cloth in the costumes, a pint of paint should last a careful chorus girl a whole season. Paint does not wear out readily and never ravels. A man, for instance, could wear a pair of paint trousers for a long lime and they would never bag at the knee — they would never have to go to the pressers. If he decided to wear his lavender trousers to the seashore it would be only a matter of a few minutes with a M'tish. And there would be no fear of moths. (Continued on next Paijc) Mile- Simonr Dherlys, the sensational and d a r i n g French dancer, who says she is coming over here and dance just like this!

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THE T A TL E R Hints to Summer Widowers OF course every Summer widower hates to wash dishes while the wife is away. The thing to do is to use up every dish in the house, stack them up on the fire-escape and pray for rain. There are ways in which one may keep from becoming too lonely. After a man has been a Summer widower for five or six seasons he begins to tumble to them. If a man is a reasonably good poker player he may win enough to keep his wife at the resort an extra month. The general in- clination is to play hard and cleverly. If the eggs stick to the bottom of the skillet, the thing to do is to open the dumb-waiter door, turn the skillet upside down and bang it vigorously against the bottom of the door frame. The janitor may be looking up the dumb-waiter at the time, but he does so at his own risk. Jani- tors are too snoopy, anyhow. The way to remove a pasteboard top from a milk bottle is to jab it with the thumb, which causes all the cream on the top of the bottle to enter one's right eye and the remaining milk to expend itself on one's waistcoat. After all the towels, bed sheets and table- cloths in the house have been used, the thing to do is to go to a good hotel. If you sleep on top of the bed every night and don't get inside of it, you won't have to make the bed all Summer long. The hardened Summer widower can eat boiled eggs three times a day, and for variety can piece out on bananas and doughnuts. The Summer widower can have but one steak during the season because after he uses the frying pan once and gets it full of grease he doesn't know how to clean it. It is best to wait several weeks and have the steak when you are good and hungry. As for laundry, it is best to live very near a good gent's furnishing store. It is best to go to the restaurant once a day and get measured for a square meal, and after you have eaten said square meal go home and boil a few more eggs and cut into another section of boiled ham. The way to sweep a floor is to push the carpet sweeper ahead of you, like a lawn- mower, and not pull it behind you like an express wagon. When the carpet sweeper is full and won't hold any more sweepings, put it away in the closet until the wife comes home. (Continued from page 7) As for shirts, the imagination may run riot. Stripes, checks and mixed goods are offered by the paint manufacturers in an infinite variety. Never mind how the laundries would make a living. A pair of socks painted on would fill a long-felt want now that socks are selling for a dollar a foot. Paint socks would be cool. One statistician has figured it out that there are seven dozen pairs of sox in an ordinary small-sized can of paint. If the custom becomes general a man will be able to buy his wife a whole set of gowns for the seashore for $1.65. He can give her four small cans of paint — a blue, a pink, a green and a yellow — and a five- cent brush and tell her to go and have a good time. As for the man himself, he would never have to go home to dress for the evening. He could change from a business suit to a dinner Outfit with a can of black and a can of white paint, the latter for the collar, cuffs, shirt front and spats, and he could paint on the black bow tie, which would be much easier than tying it. QUESTIONS OF STATE THE White House has a private projec- tion room, where the president attends picture shows almost every day. Which leads us to wonder the following seven wonders : (1) Do you suppose the president at- taches any political significance to the no- tice which always appears at the top of the programme, telling him to " look around now, and choose the nearest exit?" (2) Does any one ever accidentally sit down in the President's lap? (3) Does Mr. Wilson ever eat peanuts during the show? (4) Has an actor who has appeared (on the screen) at the White House movies a right to advertise that he has had a pri- vate audience before the President? (5) How long does the President think a movie embrace should last ? (6) Does Mr. Wilson applaud loudly when they flash pictures of Harding and Debs? (7) Who censors the shows for the President?

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THE TATLER How To Keep Cool Marie Prevosl on the bow of a speed boat Dainty Lola Fisher prefers the comfort of a negligee

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io THETATLER The Lady In trie Case By DE VAUX THOMPSON WHEN a murder is committed, any time or any place, The authorities start looking for " the woman in the case." She is more than oft' a" lady With a reputation shady. Neither prudish nor old-maidy Is the woman in the case. And before they find the weapon or the motive of the crime Or the victim's name or address (they can find that any time) They prepare a mental picture of the prepossessing face Of a lady who is charming, who has pulchritude and grace And a female hypothetical, mysterious, they chase. She's the " woman in the case." When a millionaire goes bankrupt and his margins cannot face. The referee says : " Surely, there's a woman in the case. From a standpoint comprehensive, She's a woman who's expensive," So he starts a strong offensive At the woman in the case. For the gentlemanly bankrupt couldn't have spent all his wealth, Single-handed in an innocent, platonic search for health And he must have had assistance in the blowing of the dough And who could help him better than some lady he might know? An expert in the fascinating come-ons of her race — " She's the woman in the case." And how often, oh, how often in proceedings for divorce, All the tabbies in the village have just cause to say: "Of course, It's the usual contention, That of outraging convention. It is needless quite to mention, There's a woman in the case." And they sit and wait, a-flutter, do the dowagers and mammas 'Till the lawyer yells: "Exhibit A — the filmy pink pajamas Of the woman in the case." When a taxicab is wrecked and the policemen reach the place, They observe a fleeting figure, she's the "woman in the case." She gets out of there instanter, And she swaps no idle banter And they don't have time to " slant " her. She's the " woman in the case." She's been at it since this planet started shimmying through space. And her speed is not retarded as the years draw on apace. She is most exasperating And she keeps us extirpating By her foibles unabating And her fascinating grace She has kept the world excited, kept it wondering and cursin', And the headlines always tell us that an " interesting person " Is the " woman in the case." An actor got to comparing salaries with a motion picture star the other day before an excited crowd of rooters. In the seventh inning, the motion picture star was $1,000 ahead with the actor coming strong.

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THE TATLER ii Ann Pennington Charming and Popular Star in George White's " Scandals.

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12 THE TATLER 1 Some Summer Sums OLD-FASHIONED farm house + 4 rooms + 10 cots = 1 "Summer resort." 1 moon + 1 hammock + 1 maid + 1 man = 1 engagement. (Lunch -j- 6) + (worms, bugs, ants, etc. X 999) + 1 thunder-shower = 1 picnic. 1 pr. Panama trousers + 1 near-silk shirt + 1 genuine $2 Panama hat + 1 fall in lake = 1 indecent exposure. Vacation : Man : : Run on bank : Bank account. 1 fuzzy caterpiller + interior 1 shirtwaist worn by 1 girl = 7 fits and 3 spells hysterics. , [j [j i i|j 1 cow + 1 well = "fresh" milk. 1 girl — 1 hat + 1 hot sun = 726354 freckles. 1 wife in country on 1 vacation = 1 husband in city having 1 rest. 1 veranda + 1 golf fiend + 8 highballs = 19th hole. 1 purse — $5 = end of vacation. 1 wife at resort + 1 affinity at same resort = 1 husband in city + 1 or more affinities in same city. 1 watermelon + 3 cucumbers + 1 glass milk + 1 pint cherries =829376 cramps + 1 hurry call for doctor. Flattery + love talk + embraces + kisses X application = wedding bells. 5 whiskies + 3 cocktails + 1 bottle wine + 1 automobile = 1 funeral. (Young man ■+• 12 young women) + (1 ice cream parlor + 1 movie theater) = 1 wire to father for more money. lummer /lmencKs an a s ome kre w orse A KINDLY old gent on the beach Heard a girl in the surf give a screech, "Go back, you old goat, All I want is your coat!" She yelled when he rushed in and tried to drag her out. There was a young chappie named Fwed- die, Who tried to be real rough and ready, So he drank ginger ale Till his features went pale, The durn stuff went right to his headdie. A hundred-and-two-year-old party By the euphonious name of McCarthy Drank rum every day, And he often would say, "But for that I would be hale and hearty." A boarding house keeper named Skinner Was glad when his boarders got thinner ; Said he, "Now I'm able To seat more at the table At breakfast and luncheon and dinner." A near-sighted parson from Casses Was told of the bold bathing lasses, "Oh mercy!" said he, "Why, I didn't see," And he got him some much stronger glasses. A naturalist on from South Bend Was collecting insects with a friend. He picked up a bee, Dropped it and yelled, "Gee ! I musta grabbed the wrong end." Miss Myrtle Penelope Keat Wrote poetry soulful and sweet; When it came dinner time She passed up the rhyme And murmured, 'Oh, gimme pigs' feet!" A guy named Sylvester O'Shea, Earning fifty-two dollars a day, Wed a girl named Hortense, And now his expense Is fifty-two dollars a day. . A garter snake slid o'er the hose Of an innocent girlie named Rose, She left out a yell That sounded very much like a steam calliope, And what the snake thinks, no one knows. A girlie named Jeanie MacWhistle Sat down in the grass on a thistle. I met Jeanie next day, But all she would say Was "What lovely weather we're having.'

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THE TATLER 13 A Pair Oi Mack Sennett's Mermaids PhyUis Haver

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14 THE TATLER Disillusion A Slice of Life, Cut Thm, and Buttered on Both Sides (Translated from the Russian by Ivan Ivanidea) 7JTA.E are seated in a modern theatre for rr those who think. Consequently, the seats are uncomfortable and the air is a trifle off-color. There is no orchestra, because the Drama League can't think in competition with music. There is an apron stage, however, with its apron strings untied. People are telling one another what they think of Shakespeare, but Shakespeare isn't there to defend himself, and no one seems inclined to take his part. The asbestos rises- Two characters are seated before the fire. The lights are dim, just barely bright enough to show that one is a woman and the other a -man. They look Russian, and all the Drama Leaguers heave a sigh of content. They lean for- ward and breathe down the necks of those in front of them. All is silence. A clock ticks on the mantel, and a bed ticks in an adjoining room. The Man (sadly) : We've been married eighteen j'ears, haven't we, old girlovitch? The Woman (she must be his wife) : You said it, old worse-halfsky. The Man : It's two years since youi mother passed on, isn't it? The Woman (sighing) : Yes ; she has departed, and we no longer have her with us. The Man : I admit the departure, bu< I'm not so sure about the rest of it. The Woman : Speaking of mother, there is something which she would -never let me tell you. The Man : She was probably saving it up to spring on me herselfovitch. The Woman : No. This was something which I should have told you before we were married, but she made me keep silence. The Man (sighing) : That's more than I've ever been able to do. The Woman (gently) : No compliments, please. This is a serious moment. The Man : All moments are serious in Russian drama. Especially pay day. The Woman : Have you never suspected what I didn't tell you? The Man (nobly) : No ; I never sus- pected even what you did tell me. The Woman : Now that mother is gone — for all practical purposes, I think it no more than right to reveal the secret which I have kept from you all these eighteen years. The Man : There must be something wrong with a secret which a"' woman can keep for eighteen years._ (He seises her by the wrist suspiciously, and shakes her ten- tatively) . Come, woman, out with it ! The Woman (wrenches herself free, and crosses the room, limping slightly) : Un- hand me, most unhandy husband! The Man : Not so loud. You'll wake the husbands in the audience. The Woman : Let me ask you one ques- tion, before I divulge my secret. Have you ever noticed that I limp? The Man (thoughtfully) : Now that you speak of it : I have noticed. The Woman (triumphantly) : This is my secret. Mother would never let me tell you that my left leg is artificial. It is corksy, corksky, corksky! (The Man gases at her a moment, then he reaches up and turns out the artificial gas) . CURTAIN Hotel rooms are so scarce, they are converting some of the largest hotels into busi- ness blocks. The fellow in vaudeville who advertises himself as "the half-pint comedian" is not alone. There are a lot of them on Broadway these days. Statistics are wonderful. If all the electric light bulbs seen on Broadway in one evening were placed in one pile, they would reach up quite a way. An actress who was collecting alimony fr-am four ex-husbands, had a bit of bad luck the other day. One of them went into bankruptcy and another died.

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THE TATLER Verses by Our Own Pet Vamp I'D like to go to Cuba, I would, I would, 1 would. For really, now, it seems to me, With everything so glad and free. The hunting would be good. To vamp or not to vamp, That is the question. Whether it is nobler of the heart To suffer the slings and arrows Of a humble fortune And labor at the washboard, Or ride in limousines And wear rich sables — Perhaps that is the consummation Devoutly to be wished. 1 wed an aged millionaire Of four score years and ten. 1 thought I'd l>e a widow soon He was so old — and then He played the meanest trick on me. 'Twas tough, you will allow. IU- had sonic sheep glands grafted and He's only twenty now. Vamp, Vamp, Vamp, The girls are march ing. Cheer up sisters and be gay. Every minute one is born 'Mid the p u mpkins and the corn And they'll always dock l o see The Great White Way. I belong to the Home Wreckers' Union. I lure fickle men by my wiles. But it's tough going now, I'm obliged to allow, The society dame. She has ruined my game By wearing the present-day styles. W i n e, Women and Song — And the average dome Of the average man Holds n o thought of home. 1! u l take a w a y Wine — And the Women and Song Have a pret- ty tough time In getting along. Mile. Agnes Louet Just proclaimed the most beautiful girl in Frame, following a c o tin I r y - wide contest in which thousands had entered. Photo iiu Underwood and PiMtorwood

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16 THETATLER Some Unsung Summer Resorts BORNEO. — The Summeriest Summer resort in these parts. Fire places unknown, good golf course along the equator. The natives do NOT dress for dinner. Bornese bungalows made in fifteen minutes, while you wait, out of a couple of giant jungle leaves and a bamboo pole. No electric lights to attract flies, no icemen to track up kitchen. No frosts. SAHARA. — Ideal place for lovers of warm weather. No mountains to obstruct view— no danger of children getting drowned, as there are no bodies of water near. Perfect quiet assured, out of the sound of elevated trains and strawberry hucksters. No extra charge for sand for children to play in. HONDURAS.— Something interesting all the time. Greatest variety of tropical snakes in existence. Wild parrots and other beautiful birds to be viewed without extra charge. No skating rinks, no ice cream parlors, no bothersome bellhops clanking ice in pitchers to keep you awake nghts. PARKER SNOW BAY.— Latitude 79. Ideal Summer resort. Mosquitoes unknown. None seen here in memory oldest inhabitant. Informal furs for dinner, dancing every evening by daylight. Good fishing, good shooting, good light night. ETAH.— Try our swell meals at Cook's Farthest North House; blubber chops, bear- fat croquettes, gull egg omelettes. Cool, bracing air; not a case of sunstroke reported since the close of glacial period. POLARIUM. — Quietest Summer resort on earth. It is above, all others. Coolest nights, very select, no crowds, no noise, no nothing. Address, North* Pole, U. S. A. A Reformer By ROY K. MOULTON T AM a reformer. Do I drink or smoke? Some people hear nightingales sing in the 1 I don't. trees. Life's a postmortem. Do I ever joke? I don't. I don't. Some smell the rare perfume of flowers in Some people think it is all right to smile the breeze. And try to be glad once or twice in awhile. c „ .u- i ^ wl l .• „, t, , , . ., , . . Some think that the bounties of Nature are ihey think they ve a right their own time sweet- to beguile. That this ,ife is good and it>s laws are 1 dont- complete. They see something else beside sin and Some people still call this " the land of the deceit. free." X dont- I don't, rp, ., • . ., ,. ,-. , The liberal man gives his fellows a show, ihey think they can live without orders t don't T , , ' They shrink from extending a cowardly There's many a husband and many a wife, x j " ,f Who don't care for blue laws, oppression I want to see joy laid away in quick-lime. and strife. j wallow in sordidness, scandal and crime. They think they're entitled to some joy in You may think that I have a wonderful life. .jime. I don't. I don't. If you want to know about shoes, ask a shoemaker. If you want to know about spats, ask any married man.

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THE TATLER Three Charmers in "Cinderella on Broadway'1 Buttress Deitch Doris Lloyd

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i8 THE TATLER How To Be Happy Though Heated THERE are several plans for ensuring comfort in hot weather. One is to sit at a table and eat frank- furters. This method has much to recom- mend it, but it is a fact that few men will stick to it after the sixth or seventh frank- furter, and of course, as soon as you move about you cease to remain cool. Another method is to visit a friend who lives in the suburbs with the idea of lying in a hammock suspended on his front porch. So long as ■ you stay carefully inside his home and lie in a Morris chair, the idea is not so bad, but the hammock idea is a delusion. Usually the children have fastened the thing up so that the knots give way under your weight. No more may be said on this part of it. Or you find that your feet are up in the air and your head about the level of the ground. Or your head and feet are both up in the air and you are shut up like a pair of scissors. And if you try to slap the mosquitos you fall out of the hammock. And no man with red blood in his veins will let a mos- quito drink it without some protest. However, even this plan is better than staying quietly at home with, your coat off, reading the account of the game, and oc- casionally taking a bottle out of the ice box. Yet another method by which one may spend the hottest hours of the day in a pleasant manner is the rathskeller plan. A cave in the ground is cool in Summer, but a cave under the sidewalk is usually lacking in air and is in close touch with the furnace and boilers of whatever build- ing it nestles under. However, all these disadvantages are overcome by the electric fan. The electric fan was invented by a physi- cian with whom business was dull. He now owns seven or eight sanitariums. Thus we see that by inventing the electric fan the physician conferred a great boon upon himself. By getting close in front of an electric fan that does not flop languidly from side to side, it is possible to get a breeze down your collar that will render the slightest movement of your neck excruciatingly painful for weeks afterwards. This is one of the most popular cooling off methods known. A similar scheme is to get in the front car of a subway express and have the dust driven into your skin by compressed air. But any of these plans, as we have remarked, is better than staying at home. Summer was made for outdoor enjoyment, and you must enjoy yourself, no matter how uncomfortable it makes you. The City Man s Vacation He hears he is to have two weeks. He He tears to the railway station. He He accumulates fifty folders. He He hurries home and spreads them out. He He holds a long conference with the He wife. moon He decides to go to the seashore. He He learns that his wife prefers the He mountains. He He agrees to a compromise with her. He He agrees to go to the mountains. He He plans three weeks for the .big vaca- He . tion. ■ day. He is sick and tired of the noise in town. He He has an apartment near the elevated. and — He says the roar of trains kills him. He He knows it will be immense in the He country. He He plans fourteen nights of sound sleep. He He gets on the train with his wife. He He arrives at the old farm in the hills. He He is welcomed by the wife's folks. He jumps into bed with a whoop, gets ready for the big snooze. hears some strange sounds, hears tree-toads and crickets. hears the old hound baying at the slaps at mosquitoes. gets to sleep about four o'clock, sleeps a half hour and then — hears the hired man getting up. tries it again the next night — makes up his mind on the fourth leaves his wife on the old farm, beats it back to the noisy city, crawls into bed in the old apartment. hears the "L" trains banging away, hears the rattle and roar of wagons. hears a thousand auto horns, but — •• doesn't hear them long, because — is sound asleep in five minutes.

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THE TATLER 19 %'Here s Looking at You' May Thompson in the " Midnight Rounders ' on the Century Rof [ I.d Sylphe in " Scandals of \')20" at the Globe

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20 THE TATLER Light Lines on a Grave Subject T J 1STORIANS. biographers and genealogists have, from time immemorial, poked * -* around among our cemeteries finding the inscriptions on old tombstones invaluable in locating the roots of family trees and checking up dates and events. But zvho would have thought the graveyard a hunting ground for the humorist? The answer is found in the following epitaphs, culled from hundreds of similar inscriptions found in the cemeteries of New England and the West. Each is absolutely authentic, and not one has been changed or rearranged for effect. TOO SOON! Here lies the body of Mary Ann Lowder. She burst while drinking a seidlitz powder ; Called from this world to her heavenly rest, She should have,, waited 'till it effervesced. (St. Mary's Churchyard, Burlington, N. J.) PERIL OF POPULARITY. This stone was erected to the memory of Edgar Johnson, who was shot as a Mark of esteem by his surviving relatives. (Graveyard at La Pointe, Lake Superior-) BEFORE THE DAYS OF H. C. L. Beneath this stone our baby lays, He neither cries nor hollers. He lived just one and twenty days And cost us forty dollars. (Burlington, Iowa.) A BRASS MOUNTED HEAVEN This yere is sakrid to the memory of William Henry Skaraken, who was shot by Colt's revolver — one of the old kind brass mounted, and of sich is the king- dom of heaven. (San Diego, Cal.) FAIR EXCHANGE Here lodged within his blanket here below Lie the last remains of old Orono ; Worn down with toil and care, in a trice He exchange his wigwam for a Paradise. (Oldtown, Me., over the body of Orono, Chief of the Penobscot Indians. He died at the age of 113, in the year 1801) A FREE VERSE FINISH Here lies cut down like unripe fruit The wife of Deacon Amos Schute; She died of drinking too much coffee, Anny Dominy eighteen forty. (A stone in Still River, Conn.) EAT FISH AND SING He got a fish bone in his throat, And then he sang an angel note. (Schenectady, N. Y.) SOMETHING TO LIVE FOR Here -lies John Higley, whose father and mother were drowned in their passage to America. Had they lived they would have been buried here. (Churchyard at Beturbet, Ireland.) HEAVENLY HOPES IN NEW HAG- GARD. Patrick is my name, Ireland is my nation, New Haggard is my dwelling place, And Heaven my expectation. (Over the grave of Patrick Jourdan, Amboy, III.) HAPPY THO' MARRIED Here lies the man Richara And Mary, his wife; Their surname was Pritchard, They lived without strife. And the reason was plain, They abounded in riches, They had no care nor pain, And the wife ware the breeches. (Essex, England.) AN EARLY BEGINNING Sacred to the memory of Charley and Varley, Sons of loving parents who died in infancy. (Burial ground at Middletown, Conn.) AN ACROBATIC DEPARTURE In memory of Jane Bent, who kicked up her heels, and away she went. (On an ancient tombstone in Rockville, Mass.)

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THE TATLER 21 Screen Stars At Play f ^ ** Wi •■" i Hi Ronnie II ill . ».«& \ Ready for $ lSfc»

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22 THE TATLER Ok, Governor, Where Do You Live? AT last, a pure, innocent, undefiled soul has been discovered in Greenwich Vil- lage. It belongs to old Bill Sulzer, who used to be Governor of New York until he got impeached for it. You wouldn't think that a person who had lived in Al- bany could be so innocent and unspoiled as Sulzer, and you'd think that he'd know something about the Village, because he lives in it. But, apparently, he is as inno- cent as a new-born lamb. Sulzer happened to overhear the other day that a new theatre is to be erected in Greenwich Village, whereupon he girded up his loins, bristled up his pompadour, and brushed up his vocabulary, as follows : " We want no vile theatre, dirty moving picture house, or dissolute dance hall to lure the little innocents from the path of piety to the pitfalls of hell. We residents of Greenwich Village are God-fearing people, who want their children uncontaminated by any such infamy." Poor old Sulzer, how innocent he is ! How little he knows Greenwich Village, the much-advertised home of the loose and un- dusted arts ! As we used to say in algebra, let X equal the unknown. Then, Sulzer is to Greenwich Village as X is to X-governor. Which was to be proved. Anyway, Sulzer hasn't been told that the Village is the place where they spell wick- edness with a little wick. He hasn't become acquainted with the figleaf of freedom. He doesn't know the difference between the manner of free verse and the banner of free love. He couldn't pronounce " bal primitif," let alone dress the part. Hasn't he been told that true Villagers pretend to be completely clothed without the aid of a sewing machine, and com- pletely kept without the aid of a husband? Apparently not. Poor old Sulzer ! The only way he re- sembles the Village is by letting his hair grow long. But perhaps he does that to keep from seeing the dreadful goings-on in all the little tea rooms. What the Camera Misse.« NOT all the hair-breadth escapes, and hair-raising adventures, and hair-pull- ing fights, and hair-rowing experiences of the movie stars take place in front of a camera. Sometimes the ve^r biggest scenes of their filmy lives are consummated with the camera man far away. That, for instance, is the reason why Frank Mayo, Universal film star, absolutely refuses to sleep in a feather bed — because of the associations which he has with feathers in another capacity. Mayo was down in Tennessee complet- ing several pictures dealing with moonshine cabins, mountaineers, revenue officers and bloody feuds. One day, Mayo, who was cast in the role of a revenue officer searching for " dew- drop " and wore the regulation costume even to the badge, went out for a solitary stroll among the mountains. " Half way up a deep rocky gulch," says Mayo, " I suddenly found myself staring into the business end of an unpleasant rifle, and ordered to ' put 'em up, and reach high.' " He was the kind of mountaineer you read about, so I did as instructed. I tried to explain, and then I tried to make a joke out of it, but he wasn't that kind of moun- taineer. He thought he had bagged a revenue officer, and was taking no chances. " He marched me up the mountain side, and into a cabin, where he was joined by four others. They held a whispered con- sultation, examined my badge, and then while one kept guard over me, the others began to heat a bucket of tar. They also had a pillow. "We ain't sure what your business is,' said one of the mountaineers. ' Maybe you're a revenue officer, and maybe you ain't. Ef we was sure about it, you'd get a bullet. Since we're doubtful like, it's tar and feathers for you.' " Just as they led me outside, I heard someone coming along the trail whistling, and recognized an old fellow named Manse, who was one of our guides. Manse had to explain until he was red in the face, before those mountaineers were convinced that I was harmless and released me. So I just barely missed that coat of tar and feath- ers, and as I say — somehow I can't bear the thought of a feather bed, even to this day."

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THE TATLER "Music Hath Charms Eleanor Dell, of the "Midnight Frolic" soothed by the strains of some sort of an instru- ment flayed by I'riseilla Dean

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24 THE TATLER Rubaiyat of the Has-Beens WHO knows in what secluded distant hole He lies who called loud for his pipe and bowl; Who posed proud o'er the Knickerbocker bar — Who knows the lonely fate of Old King Cole? The voice of recollection vainly calls For one and pages him in pits and stalls. What has befallen, will some spirit tell, The Broadwayite who wore the overalls? Once lustily we cheered upon his way A warrior of France, come for a fray With Mensieur J. D'Empsey for the belt — What has become of Georges Carpentier? And once there went, through village and through town, A statesman-lawyer who had won renown — Attorney General, we think his title was — Who said he'd bring the cost of living down. One went about as quiet as a mouse — And on all conversation put the douse — Mysterious — the power behind the throne. Say, what can have become of Colonel House? He wore a beard o'er which we did enthuse. His name a grand old party once did use. Conventions now may come and they may go But no one hears a word of Charles E. Hughes. And once there sat a figure stern and grim, Who kept us out of war and with a vim He started off the Brotherhood of Man. Does anyone know what's become of him? A vice-crusader started out at night, To set the evils of the city right — A minister who nosed around here and there, Where can the reverend have flown his kite? A man who kept a family of five On forty cents a day and stayed alive, Has not been interviewed in quite a spell.. Into what dark, deep river did he dive? De Vaux Thompson. A pertinent question we would say is asked by the following movie advertisement : "Douglas McLean in 'What's Your Husband Doing' with Mary's Ankle." _ Some of the theater managers are getting to be particular. They will not allow their patrons to park Fords in the theater lobbies, during a performance. During the shortage of nurses, "Roll your own" is the motto in baby carriage circles. There are many crooks and turns in Broadway life — more crooks than turns.

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THE TATLER 25 Dorothy Dal e s iareer By ROY K. MOULTON rHE experiences of a pretty young girl from a small Michigan totvn seeking a motion picture career in New York. She is befriended by a chorus girl named Margot Dupre, whose birth name was Margaret Dugan. In the course of months, Dorothy drifts into the routine of the gay life of Broadway and is working as a chorus girl in a Broadway show. One night when emerging from Hector's, a famous cafe, with a party of friends, she accidentally meets Bob Whitely, her boyhood sweet- heart, who has come to New York. CHAPTER V. IT was six weeks after he had first seen Dorothy in New York — the night in front of Hector's, before "Bob Whitely was able to locate her. He had haunted the theatres in vain. He had heard vaguely that she was in some chorus. She had been cool and, in a manner, exceedingly reserved of speech the night ihey had met, and the young giant from the Michigan woods had hardly known her, so changed was she from the young creature who had wished him farewell in Pineville. It had seemed a great stroke of luck to Bob to be summoned to New York to take a responsible position with the contracting firm he had represented in the west, but this meant little to him now. He could not get the picture of her out of his mind. So quickly had she acquired the Broadway veneer — the impertinent manner of speech, the supercilious stare, the rouge, the painted lips, the strangely marcelled hair. She had spoken only a few words with him and she had been rushed so hurriedly to her taxicab by her friends, that he had only had time to tell her of his business advancement. He had looked for a smile of welcome when he told her that he would be located permanently in the city, but the announcement had seemed to annoy her. In fact, this annoyance was practically the only emotion she had displayed. He had followed her to the cab and was about to ask her address when the door was slammed and he had stood alone on the sidewalk. Upon this Sunday morning Bob glanced over the theatrical section of one of the great morning papers when he was sud- denly transfixed by the portrait of the lady of his dreams, but in an attitude and an attire which caused the young gentleman to doubt his eyes. The face was hers cer- tainly. As for the rest, he took the picture for granted. Dorothy was hailed as a new beauty from the west who had become prominent in the chorus of "The Cafe Girl," a reigning Broadway production. The picture lost none of its suggestive- ness in the caption. The man who had written the lines to accompany the vision of the beautiful girl had not lacked words to burn the soul of Bob Whitely. He had described her well-rounded form in lan- guage which Broadway had come to take for granted and the picture itself bore him out. The lady, plainly speaking, was wearing a skirt which reached almost half way from her waist to her knees and she was posed as if in the midst of an oriental dance. Her legs were bare and the beau- tiful shoulders were unadorned. It was hinted that the young lady had been given a solo dance, being drafted from the chorus for that purpose. The picture gave Bob the clew that he needed and in the rage that consumed him he tore the offending sheet to bits and determined that he would see her. The next night he was at the stage door of the theater and sent in his card. He received no reply. Unaware of the fact that he had omitted a very important part of the proceeding in not handing the door- man a substantial tip, or in fact any tip at all, of course he did not know that the card was never delivered but thrown in a waste-basket along with fifty others. He waited until matinee day, Wednes- day, and sent a modest bunch of violets that he had bought for not more than three times what they were worth. He enclosed his address and begged for a meeting with Dorothy. "Nothing simpler," was the reply he received. "I will take dinner with you at 6 o'clock tomorrow evening. Call for me at 2367 W. Forty-eighth street, Apart- ment 27." He arrived at the apartment house prompt!}' on time and had the switchboard connect him with the apartment occupied by Dorothy and Margot Dupre. He was (Continued on next page)

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26 THE TATLER DOROTHY DALE'S CAREER (Continued from page 25) not asked up stairs but -waited in the rather showy vestibule. When Dorothy came down, Margot came with her. "My girl friend," said Dorothy simply. "She's going with us. You don't mind." "Of course not," stammered Bob, lying like a gentleman. The reception was not what he had expected. "Where shall we go?" asked Dorothy. "I'm ravenous." "I know a nice little place," said Bob. "I've eaten there often. Italian cooking." "I abhor those joints," said Dorothy. "Let's go to Hector's." If Bob had thought that two Broadway chorus girls would go to a modest place on a side-street, he had been laboring under a misapprehension. He had been elected to take the two girls to the most expensive place on Broadway early in the day. Inci- dentally, it takes the male mind much longer to grasp the Broadway customs than it does the female mind. Margot took no part in the conversation except to say that she didn't think she ought to go. She thought Bob might like to have Dorothy alone for one hour. Dor- othy would not lisen to this and Bob also vetoed Margot's proposition. In fact, he rather liked this slangy young person who seemed to be so much on the square. But he did want to talk to Dorothy alone. He had something to say about the picture in the Sunday paper and he meant to say it. They found themselves inside of Hec- tor's and Bob was surprised to see the look of recognition given "the two girls by the head-waiter as he showed them to an unoccupied table. It was here that the first seeds of lurking doubt were sown in the heart of the young fellow. It was not a happy dinner party for Bob. The elaborate setting of the place sort of disgusted him. He could not fig- ure how Dorothy could afford to fre- quent it. "Well, Dorothy," said Bob, after they had ordered, "you have changed." "Isn't it the truth?" laughed Dorothy. "I saw your picture in Sunday's paper." "Wasn't it wonderful?" Bob could scarcely believe his ears. "It was atrocious," he said. "It was a scan- dal." "There isn't a girl on Broadway who wouldn't have given her eye teeth for that ad," interrupted Margot. "It was a peach. Honest to gawd, the papers haven't printed my picture since I was working for Weber & Fields in the Herald Square theatre." " The picture was an outrage," said Bob, setting his jaw firmly. "Don't be a boob," snapped Dorothy. That picture will make me in New York. I am going to do a dance alone next week." '"And get ten bucks more per," added Margot, not without a bit of pride in her tone, for it was Margot who got Dorothy the place in the chorus. " That kid's going to make good, take it from me." At this juncture Dorothy was called to the telephone and as soon as she had gone, much to the dismay of Bob, Margot leaned her mop of red hair toward him and whispered confidentially : "You're taking the wrong tack with Dorothy, do you know it?" "But, she's changed — she's different," said Bob. "Kid her along, that's the way," advised Margot. "Broadway has gone to her head, like it goes to every one's head for the first year or two. I've been with that kid every night and I'm telling you, she's all right." "She doesn't talk like it." "Now, don't make the mistake of being an oil-can," said Margot. "Take some in- terest in her 'career' as she calls it. Gosh! I started out for a career once myself and now look at the darned thing," and Margot produced a small mirror and a puff and powdered her nose. "Do I look like a ca- reer ?■" "You are very lovely," replied Bob. "No, I'm not. Say, what I haven't learned in this town — buhlieve me. That's the reason I know about this girl of yours. She doesn't love anybody right now. She can't see you and she can't see anybody. All she can see is her name in electric lights and she won't be happy till she gets it. She is just naturally full of New York — drunk on it. Don't pester her, that's all. Let her have her head and I'll bet my next season's salary against a second-hand Ford that she comes out O. K. She's the right sort. "But the clothes," interrupted Bob. "Oh, she has got a few friends, of course, but believe me, she's straight. Peo- ple just like to give pretty things to pretty women. She can't see one of those Johns with a telescope. She wouldn't let one of 'em hold her hand." "But, I don't see ". (Continued on page 28)

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THE TATLER They Toil and Then They Take a Spin Ethel Clayton

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28 THE TATLER DOROTHY DALE'S CAREER (Continued from page 26) "Of course you don't see. You're a hick. You don't know how things go here. Some of these fools in New York would give a swell looking girl a diamond necklace just to be seen in a public restaurant with her." "But, I have always read ". "Sure you have. So has every stranger that ever came to this town. He has read that every chorus girl is crooked. People have done too much reading about this old street — too much that isn't true. I suppose if you should see your little friend here living in an apartment uptown and riding in a limousine, you would have your doubts about her." "I sure would." "You'll learn, if you stick around long enough. And let me give you another tip. Don't try to get her to go to any cheap restaurant. She is just naturally so puffed up with pride that she can't see straight. Don't make yourself obnoxious and don't hang around waiting for her after per- formances. That's the prize boob trick of all. See her once in awhile, go blooey over her career and treat her like a spoiled child, and you win. Have I made myself plain?" 'You have, but I don't believe you. I think she is going straight to hell." "Oh boy. I didn't think they shipped 'em in as raw as that." "She was always a decent girl." "She's decent now, or she wouldn't be living with me." "But, what's she going to be?" "She's going to be just a plain ordinary dam little fool for a while, the same as we have all been. But she's clean. Say — I thought you loved this girl." "I do." "If anybody loved me that way, I'd bounce a jardinier off his knob and send back all the presents." "Who's she talking to now on the phone ?" "How should I know? Probably some kid with a lot of dough." "But why ". "Say now, listen. T like you. You look like the right sort and-T~want to set you straight. Don't pull any of the old home stuff on her and don't be a boob. She has expensive notions now " "So I notice," replied Bob looking rue- fully at the check. "I'll bet you that she demands a taxicab when we leave here — and it's only a block to the theatre. I'll bet you an Italian din- ner." "She won't do that." "Is it a bet?" "It is." Dorothy returned from the telephone, radiant and apparently bursting with news which was for Margot's ear alone. It was about an engagement that she had made for them after the theater — a supper party. Bob paid the check and they started for the door. Reaching it, Bob started down the street, but Dorothy went straight across the sidewalk with the unerring aim of a chorus lady heading for a taxicab. "We must take a cab," she called to Bob. "For only a block?" asked Bob. "Certainly," said Dorothy. "Jump in." Margot took occasion to nudge Bob with her elbow and hiss : "Remember the bet." At the stage door Dorothy thanked Bob for the dinner and said: "Well, I must be running in, now. I'll see you again some time, I hope." Not a word about his business advance- ment. "I would like to see you often, Dorothy." "Oh yes, of course, but I'm dreadfully busy -". "Can't I wait for you after the show." "No, not tonight." "Why?" "I am going to be busy." "When can I come and see you — tomor- row night?" "No, not tomorrow night." "Now, look here, Dorothy, is this treat- ing me square. You know what we vised to be to each other. Can't I see you to- morrow ?" "No, not tomorrow." "Why?" At this juncture, Bob felt the impact of a well-aimed blow. It seemed to strike him in about the middle of the spine and seemed to have been delivered with a sharp elbow. The elbow, he felt intuitively be- longed to Margot and, being a young man of more than ordinary sense, he appre- ciated its import. It meant for him to stop making a nuisance of himself — in others words, to beat it. At the same moment, he felt a card being thrust in his hand. Bob raised his hat and left. He was crushed — hurt beyond words. He did not think of the card in his hand until he reached the corner. He stopped before a lighted window and read the mes- (Continued on page 30)

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THE TATLER 29 Ev< rery YOU know her. What? Don't know Every Listen Kv<::y Sumniergirl is ;i charming creature made up of one part tan, one pari freckles, one part dancing, one part giggling, one part ruffles and ten parts of hobby to collect solitaires. Every Suinmergirl loves ice cream — and ice cream soda and boating and dancing and confectionery and motor rides. Every Sumniergirl falls desperately love with some young man and loves him devotedly and faithfully— for two weeks. Every Suinmergirl has no more worries than a butterfly and about as much stability. Every Summergirl loves Every Summerboy. You know her — she puts on a dizzy Huffy gown and a cerise sweater and takes a zebra- stripe parasol and trips daintily down the village street to the postofhee to look for letters, although the mail is deliv- ered at the hotel and she knows it. If three native young men stand and stare at her the while they blink and swallow and uu- s.w allow their adam's apple, her trip was a success. She plays a little rag on the piano — she knows the latest dancing steps, she knows the latest styles, she knows how to use cosmetics, but she doesn't know whether a loaf of bread is made by frying whole wheat or parboiling pumpkins. Every Summergirl has a charming and daring bathing suit, because she certainly loves water — when there is lemon juice, sugar, fruit and a dash of claret and a straw in it. Every Summergirl hates old lady gossip at Summer resorts, and says so year after year until she ceases to be a Summergirl and becomes Everymatrou and goes to Summer resorts and sits on the veranda and criticizes the Summergirls and ex- changes cake recipes and hospital experi- ences with other ox-Sunimergirls. ummer Girl Rosie Q u inn, dainty star on the Cen- tury Roof in the "Mid- niqhl Roun- ders."

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3° THE TATLER DOROTHY DALE'S CAREER (Continued from page 28) sage. It was a scrawl done in lead pencil by the hand of Margot and read: "DON'T WORRY. LOSE YOURSELF FOR AWHILE." Absent-mindedly Bob turned over to see what was on the engraved side of Margot's cards. The engraving on the card read: J. Mortimer Pilkington. Stocks and Bonds, 367 Wall St., New York. So Margot was not without friends, either. This, instead of reassuring Bob, made him the more suspicious. He had wanted to believe in Margot. For a full month the young man buried himself in his work. He made one or two ineffectual attempts to see Dorothy. Often he read of her in the papers but strangely enough, the complimentary notices did not please him. She was being hailed as the new beauty. The illustrated papers showed her in a dozen poses. His work prospered because he put his whole soul into it. He would soon be on a money-making basis and he went at the task desperately. Then, on a never-to-be-forgotten after- noon he saw Dorothy. He was walking up Fifth avenue when he saw her pass in a limousine. Beside her was seated a pros- perous looking gentleman and they were laughing and chatting. He stood and stared after the car and then he went into a cigar store on the cor- ner and called Margot's number. He got her immediately. "I have just seen Dorothy riding on Fifth avenue with a man," he blurted out before he took the trouble to say "hello." "Well, what of it?" "What of it?" he repeated. "Who is he, anyhow ?" "How should I know?" "Well, don't you?" "No. I haven't seen Dorothy for a week." (TO BE CONTINUED.) Conversation On the 5:15 ««/~\UIT jabbing your knee against my V^ hip. How do you get that way? For Mike's sake let me get it home without smashin' it. I had trouble enough getting it." " I know where you can get some genuine Old Taylor for six bucks — full quarts, too." " Aw, shut up ! " "Another guy says he can get all we want but we gotta pay him 10 bucks a case for bringing it as he has to take a risk. I had a sample of it yesterday and — — " " Joe knows a place where they sell the real old stuff right over the bar — four bits a shot. It's just as good stuff as he ever " Do you believe a wet candidate will have a chance? Or dontcha?" " He'll have the same chance as a cellu- loid cat in a bonfire. Do you know I can tell you who will have the best show in November? " "Whoozat?" " Flo Ziegfeld. Say stop crowding against my hip, willya ? " " You ain't got the only hip on the train. It will be a great election won't it? " "Howzat?" "All hips and no hurrahs." " We all gotta prescription in our burg. Nobody can touch/frs- a-tall." " Where do you all get those things, any- how, Wilmot? " " Our druggist has got a doctor running his soda fountain." " Do you think the old stuff will ever come back? " " Sure. Like Jeffries did. But, so far as I can see it ain't went anywhere yet." " Maybe Congress'll do something.' " Sure. Congress'll do something. It always does something. It adjourns." " Did you go to the dry banquet the other night in your town ? " " You know it. I hauled five of 'em home in my car and stood 'em up against their front doors after it was over." . " Well, it ain't like the old days, anyhow." " Sure it ain't. In the old days, they could have got home under their own power. Nowadays they stay all night if somebody don't drag 'em home and ring the doorbell for 'em." " I see Caruso had his wine cellar robbed and they took all his hooch." " Soft for him. He was in Havana at the time. If I could be in Havana, they could have my cellar and everything in it including the furnace." " You goin' to be at home tonight, Wilmot? " " Not so you could notice it. Not with this quart. I am going to be at home but I am not going to be at home to callers."

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THE TATLER Ii They Were WritingfjPlays Today New York, August 1, 1920."4" MR. RICHARD BRINDSLEY SHERIDAN, London, England. Dear Mr. Sheridan : We have carefully examined the play, " The School for Scandal," which you so kindly submitted to us but we cannot produce it. The rejection of any play does not imply lack of merit, but simply means that we will not take a chance on it. Doubtless in time, you will learn how to write plays that will appeal to the pubiic. We will be glad to look over any work you may do in the future, if you decide to con- tinue writing plays. Of course we cannot go into a detailed criticism of " The School for Scandal." Sincerely yours, Earl & Klawhammer. Mr. William Shakespeare, Stratford, Eng. Dear Sir : Thank you for submitting your new play, " Macbeth," for our inspection. Frankly, we do not see much merit in this melodrama. The murder should be committed on the open stage, and there are no thumb-print experts or chemists to trail the mur- derer. The work lacks dramatic effect. There should be a few chorus numbers in the third act. The comedy element is weak. Referring to your play " Romeo and Juliet," we would say that it lacks originality. There are no automobile elopements or bathing suit scenes in it. To make it a success there should also be a bed-room scene with Juliet in the wrong room. Also Romeo should use an airplane instead of a rope ladder. Alto- gether the piece is mediocre. Cordially yours, Binx & Jinx Theatre Corp. Mr. W. S. Gilbert, Mr. Arthur Sullivan, London, Eng. Gentlemen : We are returning herewith the manuscript and score of " Pinafore," which we consider inadequate for our purposes. The girl numbers are not strong enough. The piece contains no jazz and the music is crude. You have made the mistake of injecting a plot into your piece and you have entirely omitted the shimmy dancing and the oriental numbers. We do not feel like investing any money in a production of this piece. "Pinafore" contains the same objections as "The Mikado," which we returned last week- We do not see the elements of success in either one. Yours sincerely, .Murphy & Finklestein, Producers, The Giver and The Gift ALTHOUGH the Christmas rush keep within their means, while those who hasn't begun yet, it is just as well roll in wealth will be making presents of to map out your Christmas giving genuine novelty, which at the same time now. Then you can lay the map away in are sure to be welcomed by their less for- moth balls until you need it. tunate relations. We believe that a movement should be TABLE I.— FOR THE WEALTHY, started to create sentiment for the giving For Uncle Ned— A small tenderloin of memorable gifts. The war is over, and steak. those who have the coin should make an For Aunt Susan — A half-dozen eggs, outlay of greater dimensions than they For Cousin Frank — One pound of butter. have in the past. For Grandpa — Three lamb chops. For the convenience of those who wish For Grandma — a few slices of bacon, to prepare their lists now we append two TABLE II.— FOR THE REST OF US. tables, one for the guidance of the very - For Uncle Ned — A Christmas card, wealthy and one for the guidance of those For Aunt Susan — A Christmas card, less fortunate. By following these sug- For Cousin .Frank — A Christmas card, gestions those who can't afford to make For Grandpa — A Christmas card, elaborate expenditures will be enabled to For Grandma — A Christmas card.

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32 THE TATLER Tke Month's Mirth DOLLY had been praying for a long time for a baby sister. The other morning her mother, reading the paper, exclaimed : " I see Mrs. Smith has a little daughter ! " " How do you know that ? " asked the child. " I read it in the paper," answered her mother. " Read it to me," said the daughter. The mother read : " Born, on May Sth, to Mr. and Mrs. Smith, a daughter." The child thought for a moment. Then she said : — " Mummie, I know what I'm going to do. I'm going to stop praying and begin ad- vertising." A CLASS in French at a co-ed college was orally translating a story about a cow from French into English. One girl persistently called the cow " he " a number of times, until the professor stopped her short and said : " He is she, miss ; we milk her in the next sentence." (( |—v EAR me," said the worried mother, *-/ "what is baby crying for?" " He's cross with me, mother," said Dolly. " I was trying to make him smile with the glove-stretcher." THE other day Harold Lloyd, who is starring in his own comedies for Pathe, hurried into a quick lunch room for a bite to eat. He said to the dusky attendant, " I want a small steak." " Does you want a sixty-cent steak or a seventy-cent steak ? " said the ebony waiter. "Well, what's the difference between the two ? " asked Lloyd. " Why with the seventy-cent steak you gets a sharper knife." Lloyd took baked beans. THE photographer's clerk was very pre- occupied in showing some samples of work to prospective sitters when Patrick Maloney stalked into the studio and inti- mated that he would like to know what the pictures were worth. "Like that, five shillings a dozen," said the girl, handing him one. Pat gazed long and earnestly at the photo- graph of a very small baby sitting in a wash basin. " Shure, now," Pat shyly asked, " pwhat would it cost wid me clothes on?" A FURRIER was selling a coat to a lady customer. " Yes, ma'am," he said, " I guarantee this to be genuine skunk for that will wear for years." " But suppose I get it wet in the rain," asked the lady, " what effect will the water have on it? Won't it spoil?" " Madam," answered the furrier, " I have only one answer. Did you ever hear of a skunk carrying an umbrella ? " ««"\7"OUR daughter has a fine touch, 1 Mrs. Moriarty." " Yes, so they be tellin' me ; an' sure 'tis no wonder, for she loves the pianny, and niver tires of it; she has a great tashte for moosic, but thin that's only natural, for her gran'father had his skull bj-oke wid a cornet at a timperance picnic." «« TIMMIE," said the merchant solemnly, «-* at the eleventh hour, " we have for- gotten to get a fresh supply of stamps." And the office boy, in his excitement, responded with " Goodness, sir, so we have ! If we ain't a couple of blunder- headed idiots ! " THE theatre was in an uproar. " They're calling for the author," said the stage manager. " Oh, but I can't make a speech ! " re- plied the man responsible for the play. The manager grabbed the trembling writer firmly and impelled him along the passage. As he shoved him towards the curtain he said curtly: " Well, just go out in front and tell 'em you're sorry." THERE was a young lady from Siam Who had a bold lover named Priam. " I don't want to be kissed. But if you insist, Heaven knows you are stronger than I HIS father had taken him out to the golf course. That evening he seemed to be ill- at ease. " Willie," said his mother, " what is the matter with you? I wish you'd stop scratching yourself." " I don't know what's the matter, but I guess I must have got some of those golf bugs on me," was Willie's reply.

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Who's Who and What's What In Pictures Curls : — Mildred Davis is Harold Lloyd's leading lady. She has appeared in Mutual, Metro, Bluebird and Pathe Pictures. Gray Eyes : — Eva Novak is Jane Novak's sister. Jessica : — Thomas Meighan and Lila Lee in "The Prince Chap." \ Mary Ann : — Mary Pickford's latest picture is called "Suds." J. K. B. Richard Barthelmess is to be married shortly to Mary Hayes, the beau- , tif ul Follies girl. She will play opposite Richard in "Way Down East." Evelyn L. : — Norma Talmage's latest picture is "Yes or No." Bluie: — Monte Blue is in Los Angeles. Frencie: — Conway Tearle is married to Adele Rowland ; she is now playing in "Irene" on Broadway at the present time. Geraldine: — Constance Talmage is not married. Norma is Her husband is Jos. Schenck. Happy: — Harold Goodwin played oppo- site Mary Pickford. The Heavenly Twins : — Yes, it is true that Clarine Seymour died on April 25th at the Misericordia Hospital, New York City, following an operation. Her latest picture was "The Idol Dancer." Yes, she did play in "Scarlet Days." Jeanette : — Pearl White is with Fox now. Her first picture, "The White Moll," will be released in August. Wm. Mac. : — Dolores Casinelli was born in Italy. Has black hair and dark blue eyes and is 5 ft. 7 in. high. She speaks English, Italian, French and Portuguese. Great : — It is said that green eyes photo- graph better than any other color, so if you have green eyes you may have a chance. Sweet Sixteen: — Alice Joyce's next pic- ture will be "The Prey." Loretta: — Justine Johnson is about to enter the moving picture field, having been signed by Realart. Broadwayite : — Wallace Reid's latest pic- ture is "Sick Abed.' Wallace : — Holbrook Blinn will appear next season in a new comedy by Porter Emerson Browne entitled, "Borderland." Jenny: — Elsie Ferguson's next picture will be "Lady Rose's Daughter." Movie Fan: — Mabel Normand was born on Staten Island, her parents still live there. Before going into pictures she was a model together with Justine John- son, Alice Joyce, Anna Q. Nielsen and numberless other leading picture players of today. Mary Mad : — It was more than ten years ago that Mary Pickford appeared on the stage. She was with the old Biograph Companp in 1910. She and her husband are in England now; didn't you know that? I though every one did. Grace: — I think that if you write to any one of the players you mention and ask them for their photograph they will be pleased to send it to you, but be sure and enclose Twenty-Five Cents. Tweeney : — Billie Burke is married to Florenz Ziegfeld and they have one little girl. Yes she was a chorus girl a num- ber of years ago. Gerald: — Wallace Reid is thirty years old, married to Dorothy Davenport and has one child, a boy, I believe. Louise : — Thomas W. Ross is appearing as Jim Calender, the London bounder in Metro's production, "The Marriage of Mayfair." His next picture will be "Fine Feathers," in which he will play Dick Meade, the newspaper man. Gwen : — Courtney Foote is now in Metro pictures playing the lead in "The Rover." He played on Broadway this season in "Adam and Eva." Yes, he is an English- man.

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