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About The Oregon daily journal. (Portland, Or.) 1902-1972 | View Entire Issue (Nov. 6, 1921)
! ,:'-y THE OREGON- SUNDAY JOURNAL PORTLANp. SUNDAY IMORNING, NOVEMBER B, 1S2L SOY BY VAllACe mnfi 1 iuustiiaikSKl ii V 1 . f ill i v 1 TAFLE-HONEY-KID!" , Brian Boru j Blaney leaned from Pullman seat 2S and thus addressed himself to the ' somber orbs of light becomingly set in the features of the very new Mrs. Blaney, that lady being comfortably cushioned in Pullman seat 27. "Sugar-boy-dear!" responded the pre viously matter-of-fact Betsy. Then, with a momentary lapse into sanity, she whis pered: "Brian, the whole car is looking at us!" ' ' Responsive to the warning, Brian made a sudden movement, and several hand- fuls of rice clattered to the floor frota various parts of his clothing. "Darn that god-speed stuff!" he grum bled. "The more I see of rice the worse I hate Japs." "Sugar," she said, after a pause, "I wish you'd take that thing" pointing to a bright blue button almost as big as a saucer and labeled "Boost for San Bruno" "and put it in Vour pocket." "Now, Candy-bfig!" protested Brian, in a hurt tone, "we ain't ashamed of the home town, are we?" "You bet we aren't!" agreed Betsy, warmly. "And that's why I think it's up to us not to make the home town ridicu- . loua" j "Funny!" he said. "Those are the very words Obrey O'Malley said to me this morning." '"What words ?" " 'Don't make the home town ridicu lous.' Y' know. When the Boosters took us to the train, C. W. Ketchum pullin' my arm loose at the socket while kit tenish Sid Kldllta poured 18 cents' worth o rice down my foliar? Well, old Obrey O'Malley led mo aside for a minute. Uncle Obe's got more sense In his upper right-hand eyelash than Ketchum can hire In his whole office force. 'Brian,' says Obrey, you'jre going to see N York for the firs' time. It's a great big town full o' things a young man can slip up on and fall over. I hope you won' think me impertinent, ibut I want to give you ..word of advice! don't be" a hick. "I says to O'SIalley," Brian went on, "."Uncle Obe, what can I do to conceal my hickory orlgfn?" " Til give you a few Dont's for Hicks,' says O'Malley. ')on't smoke a' cigar with a band on it. Don't get up in street cars and offer a lady your seat. Don't let the barber shave the back of your neck. Don't talk politics with strangers. Don't wear tan shoes Jwlth buttons on 'em.' " (Furtively Betsy noted that her hus band's shoes were of the kind described.) " "Don't drink Volstead hyphenated Man hattan cocktallsj Don't be ashamed to walk over people's knees In the theatre. And don't offend the head waiter by try ing to tip him In public. Those are a few . rough rules whldh may keep you a while out of the Order jof Straw along the Great White Graft,' sas Uncle Obe." "O'Malley gav me this letter of intro duction." Brian) fished a large envelope from his inner pocket "Said it was a ral N Yorker Pa fella belonging to .a Knickerbocker family so old it considers the Vanderbilts (vulgar trades people." "Now, you most present this letter as soon as wet get to New York," said Betsy, La a slightly abashed tone. Brian turned he envelope critically in his hand, reading the address at every conceivable angle. "Mr. Dyckman Wynkoop, 13 Wash ington Square,") he read aloud; then added: "That ain't a name; it's a label on an imported cheese." Just the same, Brian was Impressed and was discovered gazing disgustedly at his buttoned tan lahees at intervals during the trip. I. f iiHJCY were amid the horrific grandeurs of the Royal Gorge, battling ground For ill 55KL W nmm M niii.,. , ., ' ' Ar l IIU ti that delight both child and, grawnirp, NOW Girhaj(N J ffi JWEXT . of Titans . (according to prospectus), when an impertinent intrusion appeared in the person of G. Hunter McCosh. Sight-seeing passengers were assembled in the observation car, huddled around each window, to let no marvel pass. "Just look at that!" said a resonant voice at their shoulders. "Just look at that!" "Jaggy rocks fit for some race of demi johns I gocha," said Brian, apprecia tively. "You may sing, young man," contin ued the eloquent stranger, "of the terrors of the boundless deep or the wonders of the tropic night but look at those rocks. By ginger, ain't they great?" "In the real estate business?" inquired Brian, affably. f "Well, no not exactly." "I thought by the way you went at us," continued the Little Booster, "that you were trying1 to sell us the Rocky moun tains on the easy payment plan.' "Ah, youth!" rhapsodized the big one. "Youth will have Its quip at the wisdom of age. .Youth and love. I see you're a bridal couple. I hope, madam," turning a ravishing smile upon Betsy, "that you can spare your husband a moment." Turning to Brian with a suspiciously glib motion of the thumb and forefinger. 'Flay cards, sir?" "Not with you," announced Brian, . looking the other coolly between the eyes. "I trust I'm not makings nuisance of myself " "Not yet," replied Brian, turning for the first time in the direction of the scenery. rpHE farther they rushed eastward, the more earnestly Brian hated his shoes as a recognized badge of Hickdom. He did not look up Mr. McCosh in Car 3, but that thoughtful gentleman made oc casion to sit down next to Brian in the buffet when the latter was enjoying a solitary cigarette. They were approach ing Chicago at the time, and McCosh sat paring his broad fingernails with a pearl handled knife. "Try one of my pert ectos," he said Goodness Safce 99 that's the one hiz reason wiry TRU-BUX GBAHAMS are de manded by jail relishing the Great American Cracker! Tbey have the FLAVOR, the CBISPNESS, the GOODNESS SUNDAY "AH, MOON OF MY. DEUGHT" BY ALICE ' GARLAND suddenly, offering an ostentatious roll of tinfoil. f "Thanks; I never smoke" responded Brian, taking a fresh cigarette from his box. ..s j "Say, you're a cagey kid, all right," laughed the big one, changing from the grandiloquent to the vernacular. His eyes- slanted and his weather-beaten mouth came down at one corner. "What's your line?" j "I'n a fly-catcher." j "Haw-haw! You're a smart kid, any how. Now, look here. As an enterprise young business man from the West, Iauncbin' out on life's voyage with a fair young helpmeet, and awaltin' alert and Joyous to bear the welcome knock of Op portunity at your door Opportunity, the goddess who knocks but once you are unspoiled, you are ambitious, too smart let the golden moment pass unheeded. Ever thought of investin' in mining stocks?" "Show me," said Brian in a level tone. "As you see by nay card" he extended a Bquare of pasteboard "I. am General Director of the Goodfellow and Surprise Gold Lode Company, Incorporated." 'Phew! Is it as bad as that?" . Mr. McCosh's fat fingers deftly un folded a bale of handsomely printed pa pers engraved in rich orange, the seal of Nevada at the head, an intricate, wavy border down the margins. He laid a compellingpalm on Brian's knee. "In six months from now they'll pay you twenty-five cents on the dollar twen-ty-five per cent!" "Honest," said Brian, carefully fold ing the stocks and handing them back; 'You're the coarsest Wailingford make up I've struck yet." "How's .that?" spluttered the big. one. "Excuse me, while I 'take a good look at you. I thought they had all the old style con men stuffed and under glass by this time. And to think of one of you whiskered dodos trying to panhandle me me with a line o minin stock fluff that was passed up by Adam and Eve. The" face of the honest Mr. McCosh suddenly settled Into tragic lines. "If Td 'a' known you was one of us," he began, sadly. He made the sign of Three Walnuts between his thumb and fingers. "If I'd known you was in our line o goods, I'd never come that con on you. But, since you mention St. Jo, I'll put you wise to something. The Middle West circuit's worked dry. I had to bor row from the constable to get out of Em poria, and in Keokuk I was blackmailed poor by a Rube I tried the badger game on." . So you're advanein' on New York." "That's the stuff! The only town in America where you can catch the hick off his nest with the golden eggs exposed. I got a cousin doin well there on the old glass-ring game." JT IS the conventional thing for the newcomer in New York to pause Alad-lin-like, mind whirling, eyes blinking- at the magic works of these djinns who have bewitched mankind. Shall he fly first to the Metropolitan Museum or shall it be the Metropolitan Tower ? Shall he climb the Statue of Liberty or descend into the Subway? But Brian Buro Blaney, his feet set on Manhattan, was tortured by no such doubts. He called a tgT at the Grand Central station, and, after tucking his baggage and his Betsy safely inside, called commandlngly to' the chauffeur: "Beat it for the first shoe store on Fifth avenue. They drew up before a plate glass winl dow with .masculine footwear discreetly displayed. .' "Nope," he announced to the smiling clerk, I dont want anything- similar to what I got on. Gimme something' like Vince Astor kicks around in." They sold him' a pair with tapering toes, flat soles, and unostentatious eye lets. They cost him $18. kTTEXL lunch. Brian complained, of his f: new shoes pinching:: but he bravely kept his footing-; within their resisting - soles, and plunged still farther into the knit of conventionality by changing to a suit of quiet gray and an inoffensive necktie. ' "Geing far?" inquired Betsy sleepily from her couch. "To 13 Washington Square," he said. "I'm going to present 0'Malleys letter to Dyckman Wynkoop to see if he's cheese or human. Want to come along?" "No, you little old big foolish; I'm not being introduced. "Did you find him?" asked Betsy, who was waiting, with the patience of an ex perienced wife, to be hooked up in the back. "Who? Dyckle Chickencoop? Nope. Say, Dyckle Uvea in a boy's size brick palace with a white door, and a brass knocker. When I banged the knob, out shoots a Woodrow Wilson effect in but lers. 'Not to hum!' he says. When I called him Chaxley, he snatched my card away from me and slammed the door so quick he, 'most pinched off my nose." "Sugar Boy, he probably saw you were a " . "Hick? Yea Bpt how did he know? So Xr hired an open; taxi and sailed forth to discover N Yorlc." "What did you see?" "Saw the Woolworth building, a Jew cop aires tin" a drunken Armenian, the Brooklyn bridge, a fight, a Wall street panic, the Pennsylvania station, and Leon Errol tryin' to light a cigar on a windy corner. rjTHEY dined Deneath golden cornices, beside roseate tapestries, eating, from precious plate and! draining goblets of brilliant crystal. "Don't make any quick moves," Brian cautioned his wife, "because every' time you do it starts a waiter this way, and that costs you $5 extra." The bill was $19. "Score three!" warbled Brian, keeping imaginary tab on his cuff. He led Betsy rather hastily toward the foyer. It was getting on toward 10 o'clock, and round the corner, glaring amid the infernal glo ries of jumping gigantic electric' images, stood the Cabaret de l'Obsterre, home of jazz. "Let's twirl!" came Brian's enthus iastic voice in Betsy's ear, for the band had now struck up "We'll row, row, row," and many couples took the floor, every Jack to his Jill, every Bacchus to his Bacchante. By way of divertisement, a Princeton gladiator had arisen from a tableful of college boys, and was inviting the head waiter to put him out. "Let's go!" pleaded Betsy, seizing Brian's arm. "Stick around, kid," Brian urged. "We needn't be afraid of this dansong stuff. All New York's doln' it." "I bet half the men here are traveling salesmen from Dululh. Don't be a hick!" This was Betsy's quelling word. "Speaking of hicks, whispered her ' husband, nudging her sharply, "look what's just come inj" "Who is he?" "A Rube I saw give his seat to a lady in the stfbway. He's hopeless!" For, even at the word, the newcomer who wore buttoned tan shoes was ordering a Manhattan Volstead hyphenated cock tail, i "He must be the King of the Hicko ries," muttered Brian, becoming more and more concerned; "Ain't it pitiful!" The object of Brian's commiseration called to him the head waiter and, in the presence of the whole room, handed him a $5 bill. Then he lit a cigar and kept the band on. i "He's got every one of CMalley's "How to Tell a Hick marks, except he dont shave his neck. Probably he's waitin for the barber shop to open in the morn ing." . ! Down the aisle came a florid, fmnisr face. The head waiter pulled out a chair next the unprotected stray. And the per son who occupied the seat, presenting a cordial-palm to the' helpless hick, was none other than G. Hunter McCosh,1 the ' superannuated bunco man of the D. & R. G.. i Brian quickly forgot the charms of tango' in the study of bunco as the elderly rascal laid his fat palm caressingly over " the hand of the younger man. who was neat and rather small, with oyster-colored eyes and a sallow mustache. "No. my boy; you can't afford to miss this," began McCosh. in the tone of thick gravy. "Take an old man's advice and " The rest was lost in the mu sical racket. "If we could only find a place to talk more quietly " -It is kinds noisy here," McCosh ad mitted. "Supposing you and me go over to Gothamia grill . . the details of this splendid proposition." "Come on!" breathed Brian in Betsy's ear. "Where?" To Gothamia grill !" 6TRETTT work!" murmured Brian, as they sat at a table far out of ear , shot but well within view. The hyp notist was evidently Imbuing his subject with enthusiasm, confidence, honest con viction, for the fat hands of Mr. McCosh were working busily in circles more com plicated than any Futurist dream. And the dupe looked up with the expression of a tired child who hears a new fairy story and loves to believe it true. The two figures at the distant table leaned back. Something was settled. The elder man brought forth a packet of papers folded lengthwise. "McCosh was right," Said Brian. -You can make the man from Keokuk do stunts in N York' he's never dreamt of in his home town." , "Maybe it's not so bad as you think," suggested Betsy. "Didn't you see the orange-colored en gravings on the paper? That's Good fellow and Surprise bunk he's sellin' the hick and look! Rube's pullin' his check book!" Sure enough, the lamb was already -reaching for McCosh's fountain pen. There was a moment of Intense scrib bling, during which McCosh b(t a black cigar and forgot to light it. Finally a pink leaf from the check book fluttered in his palm, and he handled It like a rare orchid. An instant later McCosh was seen to rise rather feverishly, button his coat over the new-made check, and stride forth into the unknown. Brian Jumped from his chair. 'You're not going to" "You bet I am! As a stranger in town. I ain't a-goin' to sit here and see my helpless brother skun bright red on Broadway." rjpHE young man sat reading an orange printed sheet of Goodfellow and Sur prise raptuously, even as the Moslem scans the Koran, wnen Brian accosted him. "Excuse me!" said the Little Booster. "I don't know what part of the Woolly West you come from, but you'll take back less wool than you brought with you." "Meaning?" Inquired the youth, ad justing his eyeglasses. "Do you know who that bunk Is who Just " "That "bunk. as you roughly term him," said the young man in a modulated "You, too, can have "A skin you love to touch" A BXaUTUUL akin, toft, smooth, fauldesslj cler-any girl can hare this charm. For your akin is constantly changing each day old skin diet and new takes its place. Gire Jthis new dan the right treatment, and see how toft and lovely you can keep it, ' For a tensitire akin use this special treatment: DlP a soft washcloth in warm water and hold it to your face. Now make a warm water lather of Woodbury'. Facial Soap and dip your cloth np and down in it until the doth it "fluffy" with the toft white lather. Rnb this lathered doth gently oyer your skin; until the poret are thoroughly deanaed. Rinse first with warm, then with dear, cool water and dry carefully. GlT a cake of oodbury today, and begin this treatment tonight. A 25-cent cake lasts a month or six weeks. The Andrew Jergena Co CaTtdTrnat!t NnrYork and Perth, Oritsrin. barytone.- "is Mr. Hotchklss. well known in the Goodfellow and " "His name was McCosh when I met hlm.r Now. listen" to mother. There ain't any time to feed the chickens. I'm tell ing you. You've Just fallen for a man who's a professional walnut-pusher, a dot-and-carry card-holder, a life member of the Gold Brick Layers unionr in plain CalifDrnian. a bunko man. Because you left your brains the other side of the Ohio river. III wise you. Yoii've been bilked, trimmed " j "But he came to New York with the highest references." "Splash! I've a good mind to touch you for a thousand myself. How much was In that check you Just sUtied?" "Forty-five hundred and fifty." "Get your bank the first thing in the morning and stop it." - "Lord!" groaned the callow ne. "It's on the Night and Day bank!" ; Telephone hot foot, kld!" The sedate grillroom was enlivened by the sight of a red-headed enthusiast dragging a dazzled youth sf ross two chairs toward the telephone booth. A few minutes later Betsy, to her relief, be held her husband returning calmly witti the new-found hick. "Now, Marcus," Brian was saying, "we've got to kite it over to the Night and Day and Identify you. Friend wife and Fll tag along to see that the rest of your wad don't Jump out of the window." When he emerged from the sleepless portals of the Night and Day. there were tears in the hick's pale orbs, suggestive of sea food. They fixed it but it hurts me to think I've been betrayed by a friend, he sobbed. That's what they all say." chirped Brian, brightly. "Now, Mra Bride and I'll escort you past the bogies to your hotel." The' young man gave a number to the chauffeur. The taxi stopped before a brick house with a white door. "You've pulled me out of an awful hole, old man." said the hick, as he stepped out- Td like to see more of you. Here's my card." The hick's face stared into the taxi door, pale and anxious. Brian, as he ac cepted the card, felt a thrill of remorse. Perhaps he had been a bit rough in his language to this outsider, who, after alt would learn his New York in time. Under the flickering corner light Brian held the card, spelling each letter carefully. Then he pt it in his pocket. - Already the hick was disappearing up the front stepa "Say!" said Brian, calling after him. and again looking at the name on the card,' "I got' a "letter of introduction to you."! i And. as the hick returned, the Little Booster brought forth 0'MaIleye en velope addressed to Mr. Dyckman Wyn koop, 1IY Washington Square. "I thought X might as well bend it to you now, seeln' I'm around your wsy." ranjmMBt vita UclropoUlaa JCrmpaper BcrrW, Xr Tort) , NEXT SUNDAY