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About The Omaha morning bee. (Omaha [Neb.]) 1922-1927 | View Entire Issue (Oct. 14, 1923)
JUST A FEW MARGINAL NOTES! ________By o. o. McIntyre The most understanding folk In the world are those who have suf fered. When cares of the world grow weighty I go to visit a night elevator operator. He has in the past year lost his wife. His little girl, the apple of his eye, is in an Adirondack tuberculosis camp. He Is himself drawn and ravaged by asthma. Tet he has time to listen and be sympathetic to the woes of others. He Is a sort of pale, dream ing philosopher. We have a way of brushing aside the grief of others as something remote. We may be genuinely touched and our medium of expres sion sincere, yet the hurry of life often prevents us from doing our full duty.* Recently a friend of mine lost his son. Mine’was the usual telegraphic condolence. In a few wfeeks my friend, the father, followed the son to the heavenly reward. I know now I should have gone to a nearby city to see him in his hour of anguish. It would have taken very little of my time and would have been a consolation not only to him but to me. If his kindly spirit is conscious of my neglect I know he forgives me. but I cannot forgive myself. Good Fellowship .Seldom Genuine. It is invidious to compare sorrow to joy. But strikes me very few genuinely rejoice with us in our joys. One of the most successful <pien I know—a shrewd judge of mankind—told me he knew only five people who were honestly pleased at his success. The rest, he felt, were merely flatterers and had some idea of personal gain. Broadway expresses it with its cyni cal song: “A bird never flies so high he doesn't have to light.” People watch for successful folk to light. Correspondents chide me good humoredly now and then for re ferring to my wife as "poor wretch” In the Pepyslan diary. It is a figure of speech Old Samuel used. Any good woman who has lived for 15 years with a cantanker ous creature such as I should feel wretched—even though the terra "poor wretch” is facetiously be stowed. I often wonder why happily mar ried couples who engage in "baby —** - * i i n if f r i ir 1 i ..'iV ^ — ~- — He wore that sliirt on Broadway one night and the electric signs went out. talk" in the privacy of their homes are given to the flaming blush when some of it creeps Into their conversation among friends. I know u cartoonist whose wife calls him “Itty Bitty'’ but if she hap pens to do it in public he becomes a surly old bear. He calls her “Oogie." Another Fad of Genius. The most brilliant shirt I ever saw graced the manly bosom of Joe McAuiiffe, of the St. Bouls Globe Democrat. It was a shriek ing lavender with collar to match, tween a flare for colors and genius. He wore it one night walking along Broadway and three of the highest powered electric signs blinked out in disgust. There is a kinship be tween a flare for colors and genius. The late Theodore Shonts was giv en to screaming purple cocks. Isaac Marcossen wears shirts with awning stripes of terrific hue. Beerbohm Tree loved a brilliant red scarf. Speaking of shirts, the English have a term for a person who ia inclined to a puffed pate that is the most expressive I have ever heard. To such a one they say: "Don't get shirty.” Mv friends, Ray Long and Frux ier Hunt and Tommy-Watson, sign a communication from Maidenhead, outside of London, which says-' "Dear Odd—We have Just found out that this hotel was named In honor of your last visit - to ling land.” The stationery reveals that it Ls the Dumb Bell Hotel. I pic ture postcarded my thanks from The Three Saps Inn, near Rye, N. Y. My idea of a heavenly existence on earth was to have been a New York press agent during the recent suspension of metropolitan news papers due to the str.ke. Ziggy's Idea of News. I was the press agent many years ago for a theatrical producer whose ego was sublime. When we declared war with Germany he called me up the following morning and com plained: "I see we are not on the front pages today.” He actually could not understand how a war could shove the story of a statu esque show girl who had a toe amputated off the first page. . Vanity at times goes hand in hand with genius. This producer—and his name Is Flo Ziegfeld—was and is a master hand in his particular line. Publicity made him purr. Yet he was the only vain person I ever knew who did not keep a scrap hook. “7.iggy.” by the way, is given to purple shirts with collars to match, and green fedora. The vain person is more often than not one who has a very kind disposition. I used secretly to de spise a fellow who lived in my hoti I. Kvery evening for dinner he would dress in full evening attire—top hat, monocle and gold headed black ebony stick. More than likely he would not be going anywhere after dinner. Ho was given to posing about the lobby and telling Impos sible stories to the newsstand girls. Yet he was sure the favorite guest among the servants. He was not so favored because of his tips, but be cause he was considerate of them. If they made a mistake he never complained to the management. If any one of them fell 111 he went to see him, carrying lionbons or flow era. In New York life is composed largely of externals. We Judge by what we see. The celluloid collar is a sign of youkelry, and whit® spats Indicate the city slicker. Th® suave confidence man is sartorially? perfect, and that is why he has sr. many unsuspecl.ng dupes. They trust h:.s cloth.es. V. i ' 'environment Dim-s. We have an idea that gentility r, u wtth the rclincd atmospherg or environment! One of the most gi nt< ! persons of my acquaintat^c* is Courtney Ryiey Cooper, tha writer, who lias spent the greater part of his life knocking about with the circus. His association hag been wnth canvas men, stake pull ers, shlllabors and other of perhaps the roughest crew that ever hit the grit. A minute may change the chan nels of many lives. On the wait ing platform of a railroad terminal i saw a man and woman engrossed in conversation. He was pleading with her. For a time she heard his entreaties with calm indiffer* ence. She appeared very muoA bored. Then you could sec a soften ing of her expression. She appeared to be giving in. "All board!" shout ed the conductor. She stepped quickly inside. The train thun dered out. He slumped away an5 at the gatos hugged closely to him two fair haired children w hile tear* streamed dow n his face. At Monte Carlo there is a silve* haireil old man who walks every - evening along the terrace a.s the mists gather from the Mediterra nean. Several years ago he was on his way to the Cacino to find hi I son. who was gambling recklessly. Just outside the entrance a friend stopped him to chat for a few mo ments. He went on In and irriviij Just a minute after the son shot himself. Across the street from me thert is a man who sits at a desk. \Vi have an unusual acquaintance. We have never met in any way nor do we even know each other by name Yet I feel he is my friend and I would like to think he feels the same way. We wave a friendly greeting each morning and a fare well at night when he closes his desk. Sometimes he will wait at the window if I happen to be away from my desk so I will not i » neglected with the farewell. (Copyright. It23.> Croupiers Are Born—Not Made j Paris, Oct. 12.—Many tourists, as they witnessed the huge amounts causally raked up by the croupiers In the Casino and Sporting club of Monte Carlo, have wondered about these men who seem not only to be callous to the millions they handle, but also to the romance of their occupation and the little human tragedies and comedies which abound at their tables. Some even, perhaps, have wished that they, too, might be croupiers and be able to rake hundreds of thousands of francs from side to side of the table as though they were merely bits of paper and not money at all, and to say, with wearisome reiteration but with the implacableness of fate; “Faites vos jeux, Messieurs; vos jeux sont faites? Kein no va plus. ...” May you learn, therefore, that the croupiers—not only of Monte Carlo, but of all the casinos of France and Italy—are a very ex ceptional body of men. In their qualities they somewhat resemble metropolitan policemen, and in their esprit-de-corps there is something reminiscent of the navy. It Is said that a croupier is born, not made—just like a writer, or an artist, or a musician. It la so, messieurs. But not only must a good croupier be born thus, brought into the world with that coolness and dexterity and Judgment, that swiftness of caleulation, that gift of impassivity—he must also be schooled from a very early age in the tenets of the profession. My own case may be taken as an example In point. I was born in Nice, just across tho borders of the little principality of Monaco, Just 68 years ago. My father was a croupier at the casino at Monte Carlo and it was early decided that I should follow In his footsteps. At the kindergarten and early preparatory school special attention was paid to my mathematics, for swiftness of calculation and un erring accuracy are possibly the most essential attributes of a good croupier. Then, at the age of 11, I was sent to a special school for pupil croupiers, which Is maintained by the Association of Croupiers. It Is not easy to obtain entrance to this school. One must he highly recom mended. Hay what you will about the ethics nr the morality of gambling, the profession of croupier is a high ly honorable one. I assure you, messieurs, a croupier works very hard for his tant pour cent on yne tables. Six years I spent at this school before I was permitted to enter a real caaino. At first we learned only the groundwork—good man ners. deportment, the art to wear evening dress, and always the arithmetic, the training in lightning calculation. Two years of this, and then we were moved Into a class where the rules of all card games were taught —all card games, that is, which are seen in casinos. These games, when I went to ABE MARTIN On Envy an Discontent ( fiWUeW We reckon ther'll alius be a lib eral supply o’ envy an’ discontent in this country, but we believe th’ ugly attitude o’ th’ poorly favored toward those who have hustled an’ succeeded Is more marked t'day than ever before. Ther used t' be a little low murmurin’ by those on th’ curb when a nifty phaeton roll ed by, an* ther used t’ be some purty sharp remarks pass back an’ forth when some feller appeared in a plug hat, or some womarrswept by wearln’ a seal skin sneque. But a few years ago th’ folks in ordi nary clreumstanees so greatly out numbered th’ rich that they found comfort In numbers an’ ther wuzn* much open knockin’. A whole lot o’ new people have cleaned up big In th* last few years, some honestly, some almost honestly, an* some how. But this Is u sharp, eunnin'. business age when we’ve got t’ he alert an’ on th’ Jump when a war comes along, still we don’t know that any ('lass has had any advantage over any other cluss In accumulatin' money since th’ war. who have "hit It right." Flush times is jest like a p'litlcal land reason we see so many stranRe peo ple rldn* t' "work." 1 don't Kit »uh nothin t’ refer t’ th’ time Ike Lark slide—a lot of Inferior an’ unde servin’ people are carried In on th’ wave, an' we reckon this Is th’ In lookin’ about it seems t’ ns that all kinds o' people have suddenly come t’ th’ front, while nil kinds o’ people have been left at th’ post. Ho all we’ve really KOt out o’ th* world war is a brand new crop o* nabobs— folks who saw ther oppor tunity an’ rushed In, an’ some folks who were Jest carried in by th’ cur rent. Ho we expect this Is th’ rea son wp hear so marly moan com ments, th' reason fer so much ugly feelln’. But It’s an awful Jlnsle o’ * * U1 -- time t worry about an* knock those had to lay out a tine of a dollar and coats ever* time we see him hop in his llmoslne, an* It don’t help our own condition t’ 1*» eternally harpin' about Km Moots goln' t’ Europe Jest because she used t* milk nine cows. • In th* ole days we could watch a citizen grow rich—If we lived long enough. It wuz a slow, tedious process an’ very few made th* grade. In them times opportunity wuz as slow an* uncertain about showin' up as a paper banger, in' folks dldn' know ns in in h nl>out busineHs an* war as they know t'day. Hut we've alius |»een fer th* plain people, an' wo don't propose t* desert a lot o* them now Jest 'cause they’re wearln’ "knlcks** an’ enjoyin’ ’smselves. (Copyright. I»?1 1 school, were four or five in number. Principally they were baccara, trente et quarante, ecorte and piquet Today, however, ecarte and piquet are scarcely played in the casinos. They do not offer a sufficient mar gin of profit to the management and the stockholders. The chief game to be played not! is, of course, baccara, at which fabulous sums are won and lost. After maccara. In Importances comes chemln de fer, which is a pop ular variation of baccara and inu< K more rapid, as Its name, “railway,"' indicates. Hnceara and chernin de fer are not played in the so called "public rooms'" of the casino: on* must belong to a club called tli* "Orde Privee," or the Sporting club, and pay a high admlttan • fee. Trentc et qiiarante is still played In the public rooms and has a very faithful public: almost as faithful it* the public which hedges the roulett* tables. After we had thoroughly mastered the intricacies of baccara the rules of which we had to learn by heart—we were taught the gain* called “ la boule," or “pel Its ehevaux," which is to roulette what wh st Is to bridge. At “petit* chcvaux" 20 francs—1 lous—Is *. maximum bet At roulette, >* which game wo graduated shortly, the maximum Is CO to 75 louts. At fir-t glimpse roulette seems t» be easier than bnreara to learn and it la--for the player. But for tin i roupler roulette Is the hardest of games, for It calls for the quickest slid n ist accurate computations, Il baccara the odds are always event In roulette they may lie as high as 86 for 1, or they may be 18 for 1, or 9 for 1, or 3 or I to 1. down even money. Farobank, which is not played In France, Is the only gambling game which offers mora combinations than does roulette. A croupier, among other tiling^ should possess: 1 An exceptional memory. 2. A muster hraln for figures 3. Hnough psychology to lie ». good physiognomist, and 4. Several well-cut evening suits, A croupier nutst be courteous, bu4 firm; he must be Invariably right* he must never falter In his decfl slons. If you think that is always easy, especially In the somewhat hysterics! conditions which soma* times surround a gambling table--* why, messieurs, you have my |xu mission to try it for you reel vsu.