The So-called Human Race Part 33

"Fair women and brave men" circled hither and thither in the maze of the stately waltz and the festal two-step, and the dainty slippers kept graceful time with the strains of the exceptionally fine music of the hour. Lovely young women, with roses in their cheeks and their hair, caught the reflection of the radiant electric lights and the glory of the superb decorations, and their natural pulchritude was enhanced in impressiveness thereby. The "frou frou" of silks and satins; the enchanting orchestral offerings; the brilliant illuminations; the alluring decorations, and the intoxication of the dance made the event one of the most markedly successful in the history of the university.

FOR THE LAST DAY OF MARCH.

Just before you go to bed, Push the clock an hour ahead.

Little Mary.

Don't forget to set the time locks on your safes ahead an hour.

Otherwise you'll be all mixed up.

At Ye Olde Colonial Inn, according to the Aurora Beacon-News, a special "Table de Haute" dinner was served last Sunday. And the Gem restaurant in St. Louis tells the world: "Our famous steaks tripled our seating capacity."

CHANCES, 2; ERRORS, 2.

Sir: While in the Hotel Dyckman I noted a sign recommending the 85c dinner in the "Elizabethian Room." After a search I found the place, duly labeled "Elizabethean Room."

D. K. M.

Just what does the trade jargon mean, "Experience essential but not necessary"? We see it frequently in the advertising columns.

A variant of the form, "experience essential but not necessary," is used by the Racine Times-Call, as follows:

"Wanted, secretary-treasurer for a local music corporation; must also have a knowledge of music, but not essential."

As curious as the advertising form, "experience essential but not necessary," is the form used by the Daily News: "Responsible for no debts contracted by no other than myself."

The provincialism indicated by the t.i.tle of the pop song, "Good bye, Broadway! h.e.l.lo, France!" reminds us of the headline in a New York paper some years ago: "Halley's Comet Rus.h.i.+ng on New York."

"The love, the wors.h.i.+p of truth is the most essential thing in journalism," says the editor of Le Matin. Or, as the ads read, "love of truth essential but not necessary."

The Hopkinsville, Ky., News is a Negro paper, and its motto is: "Man is made of clay, and like a meerschaum pipe is more valuable when highly colored."

From the letter of a colored gentleman of leisure, apropos of his wife's suit for divorce: "P. S.: Also, honey, i hope while others have your company i may have your heart." Here is a refrain for a sentimental song.

SMACK! SMACK!

Sir: May I suggest that the matrimonial bureau of the Academy take steps to introduce Miss Irene V. Smackem of Was.h.i.+ngton, D.C., and Mr.

Kissinger of Fergus Falls, Minn.? They would make a perfect pair.

Kaye.

_MARCH._

_With heart of gold and yellow frill, Arcturus, like a daffodil, Now dances in the field of gray Upon the East at close of day; A joyous harbinger to bring The many promises of spring!_

W.

If no one else cares, the compositor and proof reader will be interested to know that Ignacy Seczupakiewicz brought suit in Racine against Praxida Seczupakiewicz.

Referring to Beethoven's anniversary, Ernest Newman remarks that "a truly civilized community would probably celebrate a centenary by prohibiting all performances of the master's works for three or five years, so that the public's deadening familiarity with them might wear off. That would be the greatest service it could do him."

Newman, by the way, is a piano-player fan, contending that when the principles of beautiful tone production are understood, mechanical means will probably come nearer to perfection than the human hand. Mr. Arthur Whiting, considering the horseless pianoforte some time ago, was also enthusiastic. The h. p. is entirely self-possessed, and has even more platform imperturbability than the applauded virtuoso. "After a few introductory sounds, which have nothing to do with the music, and without relaxing the lines of its inscrutable face, the insensate artist proceeds to show its power. Its security puts all hand playing to shame; it never hesitates, it surmounts the highest difficulties without changing a clutch."

Dixon's Elks were entertained t'other evening by the Artists Trio, and the Telegraph observes that "one of the remarkable facts concerning this company is that while they are finished artists they nevertheless are delightful entertainers."

We seldom listen to a canned-music machine, but when we do we realize the great educational value of the discs. They advise us (especially the records of singing comedians) what to avoid.

The prejudices against German music will deprive many gluttons for punishment of the opportunity to hear "Parsifal." We remember one lady who was concerned because Dalmores stood for a long time with his back to the audience. "Why does he have to do that?" she asked her companion.

"Because," was the answer, "he shot the Holy Grail."