(Continued From Yeitrrdnjr.)
Corn Vance's animation dulled the
pang of the scene on the roof—of
Marty’s sulky stare as he saw her
going out, wearing her best gown and
ths tinseled toque. By the time they
came to Miss Henning's door she be
gan to hope there would he something
to sat, before It was time for her
to go home. She hadn't tasted sup
per.
The negress who opened the door—
she was a great brown Brunhilde of
a woman with a flashing grin—seemed
to promise amiability. Miss Henning
herself had the manner of a mature
child who happened to be present.
Her wistful way gave the stroke of
paradox to the statuesque robe of
black and gold In which she swished
tenuously. Her small blonde head
seemed to emphasize and to be em
phaslzed by the dark grace of Cora
Vance, and Jo Ellen, watching them
meet, felt like a peasant; which mailt
it all the more embarrassing that
Miss Henning should exclaim, "You
lovely thing!” and thrust those beau
tiful white fingers Into her hair. Mis*
Henning was so glad they came early,
and hoped they would forgive the
disorder of everything, since there
had been a fall-down in the matter
of certain preparatory grooming of
the rooms. If what she saw was dis
order, Jo Ellen found it very pic
turesque. A sense of the rooms, three
deep on the parlor floor, came con
fusedly through the chatter of Intro
ductions. There were three men to
meet at once; a comedian named Cor
nell, Morrowby, the critic, and a fat
person with an unrememberable name
who had something to do with book
ing.
In an introduction Ho Ellen always
seemed to see everything and hear
nothing, so that she was at a loss
for the name* afterward. Cornell,
because he came first and was very
funny, she managed to recall by
name; and she fixed the name of Mor
rowby. because he came second and
told her she was the twin of an
Irish actress he met in Hondon There
were reasons quite as good why she
might have remembered many of the
others who came later, hut the trick
of forgetting to listen worked havoc.
Tt was all right so long as she didn't
have to do any introducing herself.
Meanwhile she was glad to know Miss
Karrand (in a kind of shepherdess
looking frock) on her own account;
also, after a while, there waa the
immaculate Brintell, glued to a de
mure little blonde girl with chopped
off hair.
t-—
New York
--Day by Day
__I
By o. o. McIntyre.
New York, Aug. 20.—Harlem's
Black Belt lost Its biggest high flyer
In the death of Barron D. Wilkins.
He was loved and despised by the
people of that section. He was pistol
ed a block from his famous Exclu
sive club by “Yellow' Charleston, who
runs a 25-cent cellar crape game.
To Barron Wilkins' placs came the
flow and wash of all Manhattan's
laciest night life ultimately. The
“Barron” was always there to nod
and bow and boom with pleasure to
see the crowds come. Other "blacks
and tans” were closed after prohibi
tion but Wilkins Beemed Immune
from arrest.
When Jack Johnson, his black face
shining, came back from the west
with a white girl after knocking Jef
feries out at Reno he went to the
"Baron's” place. Here black men and
white girls mingled Rfter midnight.
Johnson was given the "rose and
gold room” upstairs.
All Harlem flocked to bask In Jack
Johnson's gold-tooth smile. To Barron
Wilkins was accredited great political
influence. He could swing votes. He
was reputed to be worth more than
$200,000. He carried both distinctions
with quite suavity.
His name gleamed In heavy electric
lights over his resort. It catered espe
cially to white actors and actresses
from Broadway. Here In the smoked
filled basement they might see a
little of another color. He was the
first to introduce the Ethtoplan
Caucaslan melting pot Idea into cab
arets north of the Maaon-Dixle line.
The black and mulatto bloods that
frequented the Exclusive club had
high flown names. Among them
were Prince Pinkney. Curley Dia
mond, The Hsmbone Rajah, and Tar
Baby Ed,
It is s place that should have been
closed long ago. I have seen beautiful
white girls sitting at tables and fox
trotting with negroes. The Barron in
sisted all his patrons, black and white,
be barred if they did not wear eve
ning clothes.
Far up on the Grand Duke Con
course Is one of the most unique
institutions In New York. It Is a
poorhouse for ex-rlch men. It Is strip
ped of every suspicion of charity and
Is known as the Andrew Freedman
Home. It is the gift of Andrew Freed
man, capitalist and baseball magnate.
It Is non sectarian and Is operated
solely for the care and maintenance
of gentle folk of advanced sge who
were once weealhy and now in pen
nry. As far as possible these folks
will have an opportunity to enjoy the
same mode of life which they led In
days of affluence.
The structure Is of gray limestone
snd la four storlea high. It contains
41 bedrooms There la a large com
munity library, a atately living room
and an Inviting card room.
8acond Avenue la ihe White Way
of the East Hide. There are a dozen
theeters there. There are French,
Italian, Russian, Chinese, Japanese
and vegetarian cafea—with hllla-of
fare ranging from boraeh to chop
eiiey, teremok to kreplach or fettucinl.
There ere book shops full of the
gay bindings of Russia and old
women who sell potato chips hot
from a cauldron of boiling grease,
Just as they do all night long at tbs
Fontaine dns Innocents In Parts.
Second avenue la exotic, isolated and
self contained.
There are Chinese. Tartars, Slavs
and Armenians whose face* are still
brown with the winds of Araby.
Stores sell Riga Hporttes, lyrhee nuts,
csvlnr and escargots and the win
dows dazzle with the twentieth cen
tury mazda. Electric lights glow with
cabalistic letters.
There ere a dozen races living 50 to
• floor In tenements. All are descend
ante of shepherd kings snd Roman
emperors cut alike to the New York
pattern.
(Copyright, 1124.)
Everybody seemed to know the
house, tn know where the cigarets
would be. and the appointments o(
the basement, where the walls were
covered with photographs, posters,
cartoons and hideous war trophies,
A comic artist whose name Cora
Vance said was a household word,
but whose Identity Jo Ellen missed
because Miss Vance quite surely for
got to mention w'hat the word was
pointed out to Jo Ellen some of the
curiosities of the basement.
"But the cellar is the hit of this
show,” said the comic artist. "Have
you seen it? O well, down we go!"
Jo Ellen followed the Household
Word down the cellar steps mto a
whitewashed space fitted up gro
tesquely as a barroom, with sport
ing prints, sanded floor, an enormous
spittoon, a mirror set between the
shelves full of bottles and glasses,
and other realisms of which Jo Ellen
acquired but a blurred Impression.
"Makes me think of Meinio Gabuli
ler's In Chicago," said the Household
Word. “But they’ve left out, ‘In case
of fire, wring the towel.’ What do
you say—? and he swept his hand
toward the barricade rising from the
brass foot rail.
It was then that Jo Ellen recog
nized Cannerton behind the bar with
an apron fastened under his armpits.
“Ah!’’ exclaimed Cannerton, wip
ing his fingers on the apron and
thrusting forward a hand toward Jo
Ellen, "this is indeed a surprise and
.1 pleasure. Name your plzen, gents.”
' They tqll me—’’ began the House
hold Word.
“And they’re right,” declared Can
rerton genially. "NTo better rye left
on earth." He pushed forward the
dark bottle. "What particularly choice
nectar can I produce for the Eherly
Productions? Might I suggest—"
“Try suggesting ginger ale,” Jo El
len returned with a defiant laugh.
“Excellent for the early evening,”
said Cannerton with a professional
flip of the tall glass, and a less sue
cessful movement of the opener. Ho
rang a gong in caricature of the cash
register, and because the sign said,
“a ring with every drink.” “You have
to be sober to take your turn at this,"
he added, "or you’ll miss the real
bottle and hand out onevif the pic
tures. Think of that haling in the
paper: 'Comic Artist Killed by Croton
Water.’ ”
It appeared that the bar was in
operation for half an hour only. "You
see.” remarked the Household Word,
"there's a limit to every Joke "
"Right!” piped Cannerton. "You’re
the limit."
The whitewashed place filled up be
fore closing time. Sharp gusts of
laughter followed Jo Ellen up the
stairs. Some one was singing In the
parlor, and Cora Vance, finding Jo
Ellen, took her by the route of the
hallway into a recess where there
was a divan.
‘Tjet’s he comfortable.” said Miss
Vance, folding herself adroitly among
the pillows.
They could see the groups scat
tered throughout the rooms; signifi
cant faces etched hy the amber lights,
and odd flashes of color through the
blue haze.
Miss Vance lighted a cigaret.
’’Until some bore gets us," she said,
"which means that 1 don't get mix
Ish.’’
A tall girl who didn't want a seat
but was simply looking for a light,
glanced down at Cora Vance to re
mark: “I tell Maud that virgins have
gone out of fashion. Was It the war.
I say It's horrible. Why, the business
girls make stage women seem
stodgy. Absolutely."
"Not that you mean to be person
al,” Cora Vance sent out sharply.
The tall girl veered to Jo Ellen. "Of
course not,” she added. “I hate to
be personal. I'm never personal
except when I’m worshiping the ex
ceptional." Her laugh was accompa
nied by a look of exaggerated shrewd
ness.
"She’s better,” said Cora Vance as
the tall girl moved away, "in lin»s
that are written for her. The only
thing that's really happened," she
added, as If the tall girl's remark
had started a thought, "is that the
profession has got to be more mor
bidly talky than It used to be First
It got self-conscious, by all the print
Now it moralizes. Makes you sick
Maybe that's happened to everybody.
But you don't seem to be that way
"Which way?” asked Jo Ellen.
"Moralizing. Figuring out that
everything's rotten. Especially girls
I suppose bunching business pirls Is
about as sensible as bunching stage
women. I know stage girls that are
hell eats. And I know others that
are like honest-to-God nuns. It
wouldn't make much difference what
their Job was, either kind; they d
"O I don’t know what he is. He s
vague, Stan Is. when It comes to
occupation. He's fixed rather for
mally now with the seenety branch,
trying to he a business man. But
he's a *ort of soldier of fortune Not
quite a crook, but xvith a leaning to
crookedness. I don't say that be
I Second Honeymoons
By Briggs I
(• Thihk'that'j meaW/Tb) / AH Howard! Vou'fl. ^
Mrj f^ve va>AY .DoujkV To . \ TteViM6 To see How pAFR
other esD_y- (^Vbu Ce.Kj ^end a-^e
I _\
'set.
v>jh«aJ vai® ULierte Fiftyr makhibb
You ALWAYS VjUAf*T®D aab To iaJiaj
A\AJt> You wans 30 Kind To a* ® -
UUAWT6 O To B® vajitm m® A)LC
ThS TimR, .SA'D Vo o' LOUSD U,
<!»«♦ «l~ -«H
«
f
cause we busted. You know, I can
see his good points, better than 1
could when we were man and wife.
Honest, 1 can. And I get a slant
on the rest of him, too. I was crazy
enough, one time, to want to shoot
him. Funny how you will wont to
shoot a person. I guess old Sally
Davltt helped cool me off. 'You think
you're an actress,’ she said, ‘but are
you a good enough actress to kill a
man and act your way to an acquit
tal?’ Her drawling way of putting
lit made me think, somehow. After
ward, I didn't want to hurt him—
only to he rid of him. At first you
feel queer—meeting them, when
you’re divorced."
"I should think you would,” mur
mured Jo Ellen. There was more
she wanted to say—more she ought
to say—but she didn't feel quite flt
to do It at the moment. This could
wait.
"But now—well, now It doesn't
bother me. Lucky you can pet over
It. Suppose a woman had to feel
lied—forever and ever. Tied, hard
and fast. That reminds me of what
somebody was telling me about a
cousin of Stan's—I guess It was Ger
tie Lawler, told It-—ah! here come
cocktails—borne by the magnificent
Marone, himself—it must be that the
eats are ready.”
(To Be Continued Tomorrow.)
Ricardo Cortez haa been added to
the caat of "A Drama of the Night '
the lateat Jamea Cruze product!'
He will play one of the featured rob
othera In the caat Including IxjuI
Dreaaer, Kathleen WlUiama, Virginia
Dee Corbin and Pierre Condron.
THE NEBBS
THE TESTIMONIAL.
Directed for The Omaha Bee by Sc) Hess
" r-“I .. . .l*_ *' -1
/ GOOD ►ViiENOS, l NT AO NEARS U.
/ OUD _ 1 HAVEN'T STEPPED A FOOT
FOR SOME NEARS WITHOUT “THESE \
\ _ NOW I DEPOSIT THEM IN NOU« /
\WASTE BASKET AMO APPLS TO S
-Pv-1 ' NOU FOR A POSITION AS A
VISING TESTIMOMIAUTOThE J
BENEFITS OF NOV-AGE^
I
WELL THAT'S TIME! \
(If SOU CAM JUMP OVER VdUt'AP
Ti-uS Cma\R well &wc a CHAAR
SOU A TIME PO$>VT\Om ^ A rriijin «JL)MP»J
W OUR Show wimDOW l^HP.TrYftVn
PS AM AO rop MO*AGE OVER A CMA\R I
— AMO VOU'U. OMLS HAVCi FACTORS ! /
(to cJun'ip Evers *>/'n
\HALT ^
/OOM NW goodmessT^x
/ l KK;NOCVCLED mSELF!]
( MOW SEE WMPTT NOD j
\ DOME !t»T S ALE
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__(Copyright. 1&2I. by The 3efl Syndicate, Tnc )
I
Uj CV«.U»o~i -
Barney Google and Spark Plug
JUST THE DISH SPARKY NEEDS.
Drawn for The Omaha Bee by Billy DeBeck
(Copyright 1924)
FJCTRA!
BARON SCARF in,qff
OWNER OF The
fAMOUS RVSSIAn
'THORog^mjptD.
TroTSKi'anD MR.
BERNARD <GooOlE .
FIRKVV6 Jbt MILWAUKEE
EARLY This MoRN(n<S-.
EVERYTHING- AU
^GT for Tug. 6lG
(NTGRNATiOrtAL
race Next vaturo«(
* K*«
fAMOuS Horse OWNERS
ON V6«< FR'GMDT
TER!*® MR GooGtE
ACCEPTS The OxSoY-l
INVITATION To EAT
3RGARMST IN RUjSlAN
C|4Mi
I
/CWE C0WE5KI = CATS
<YOT W FMJOUT ThC RASE
Tiu. «*JV FINISH OUR
fOOOSKl «■ Hint . rw, COQ^EE.
"Try some of This .
Rumjan'rapski goochy
EAT -IT VERY ^lOUjiY . IT'S
Fuu-OR REPPER «:A FINE.
APF*Til«f». Eo* BueflHPfisr.
\ AHH- Yov»,ARE HUNGRY ^ *
~ |f||| :
fAf>H GOODNESS. MlSTAH
Google «• oat most o Blew
HOT STUFF VO’ ET c Yo
(MADE a CAilE fN'Boot .
f o Ty SECONDS
((.
SLJL-W. J
BRINGING UP FATHER
Registered SEE JICGS AND MACCIE IN FULL
V. S. Patent Offlc. PAGE OF COLORS IN THE SUNDAY BEE
Drawn for The Omaha Bee by McManus
(Copyright 1924)
err colu't-k'n i qclicve
M'r lookj
LIKE JER-RX OUCAN • nr
WHAT HH THE WORLD TOO KNOW »veT
I'bTHE MRTTER-YOO 6EEH MARRIED .
LOOK LIKE A 6ENT FECl THREE
TENDER ON A TEAR*b -AM WEVE
FLIVVER! JOt>THADOOR
K _ ^lRt)T QUATARCL.-* ,
.
•( _.... . ._ . .
I VE BEen MARRtEO ' JUST THINK-'i
FOR THtRTT TEARS • SHE HA<bMT $
AH V/E HAVEHT 5CQKEM TO 4
PiHtSHED ME FOR THREE
—s
J WELL - DON'T LOtiE
f HER. - TOO'LU NEVER.
EiNO ANOTHER. ONE r-J
like. that- \
n
*4*
JERRY ON THE JOB
»——« —r-—— ■— ■ 1 1 i
LET THE MATTER DROP.
■■■,■ ■— ; -— ^ ■ - ■■ ■— , — —
Drawn for The Omaha Bee by Hoban
(Copjr.ght 1924)
rr, r "\ oh • 9oo ?oo >«.
An op'rur) .. „ <_ „„
AVAU.V*
<&rra 00 IV S/mme— < ' *»**>
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L- 'S PBOWaiy
^ PUWSHEP
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-- -^ r> ■ lc.li* i; 1*3.^ yl« k.OM»> h^t, h„Z?TA _
ABIE THE AGENT Drawn for The Omaha Bee by Her*hfield
A Hero for a Moment. J
EN-'^RYTHlNGr IN QCVF
/ Costs heavy money buy
J\ ,)F ^OU U)ANY To BE A
v\_Somebody; you qcy to do tv:;
o '
.'timdmar* zJ
ICUCU,V»OU) T>0 'n.
/ Vou UKE YOUR
FIRST t>AY OF
QOlF » |^Q^j
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I t>lt> YOU QO J
1 UNit>EFsrr&,Kto *BE
vio\s:rD ^ Qo\je
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