CLASS OF 1918
With the usual paucity of news from farflung districts, it seems that we shall again have to confine ourselves for the most part to the doings of Eighteeners in and around New York.
Steve Mahoney has just come through a hot campaign running for the school board at Eastchester, N. Y., as the result of which he informs us he had the good fortune of not being elected. While he led all the candidates of his party by a wide margin, he was just nosed out for the job by a member of the opposite faction. The contest, we believe, brought out more voters of his section than did the last gubernatorial election.
Monk Cameron is sporting a plane these days. We understand that as soon as he becomes more proficient in the air, he intends using it to transport his products to the city and show the Gothamites what really fresh fruit tastes like.
We ran into Lew Pounds the other day buying movie film at Eastman's for the latest installment in his serial entitled "How to raise a family." In spite of living in a place called Larchmont Woods, he still looks as if he could find his way around the city.
It is said that Stan Jones recently bought himself the office of vice-president of the Park Avenue Squash Club that he might better control the distribution of prizes. Being also on the committee for prizes, we hear that he has just doled himself a nice pair of lorgnettes for peeping. He was runner-up in the recent tournament, losing the finals to a Columbia star.
Always being a lucrative gossip-monger, Jones, as usual, hasn't failed us, and again has come across with some random shots as follows: "S. Mongoose Morey, the Sage of Sinclair, is recuperating from talking about his operation on the other side of the water. He has promised the home town boys some pustals from Parus, a fountain pen full of Pilsner from Munich, and a cold in the head from London. We certainly miss America's largest lighter-than-air liner, though the local thoroughfares are much more passable in his absence. Lewie Lee (Velvet Joe) officiated in the formal loading of the great craft aboard the George Washington, assisted by the ground crew from Lakehurst.
"Sh-hh . . . the Sphinx has whispered. The tomb has opened. The sky has fallen . . . D. Francis Shea likes Mead-Johnson (curb) around 70. And we like a good rye highball around 5 in the afternoon.
"Prof. Dr. Tom Campbell writes from Denver that he will again act as commodore in the Grand Lake Bathtub Yacht League this summer. He is having a new swatch of gold braid sewed on the official blue cap, with the crest of an ore-crusher rampant, quartered with azure boathooks, and a burgee showing an old sneaker on a red ground. In the fall, the Prof. Dr. expects to go abroad with his family for a year, and what the hell is the sense of that?
"F. Runyon Colie, the Millburn Mudcat, is moving his law office from one block in Newark to the next block in Newark, which will give you some idea of how desperate we find ourselves for news at this sitting.
"On the other hand, we see by the papers that H. J. Alderton Collins (full name on request) is right behind Judge Seabury, who is right behind District Attorney Crain and Legs Diamond (we came within an ace of writing "Dietrich" then, which will give you a line on the things that enlist our thought at this time of the year). It is hoped that, when Harry gets Crain bottled and Legs cut down, he will be able to devote some attention to men who visit certain clubs on invitation and deliberately exchange old soiled lettuce leaves of hats for new spring jobs by Knox. Parties interested can get a line on this small-time racket by applying to E. H. ("Play-Safe-with- the-Future, Insure-while-You-Can") Earley.
"J. Alden Thayer recently completed a three-day tour of places in New York which have pianos as well as bars. Besides being acclaimed for his fancy fugues and slashing Schuberts in Italian, French, Greek, and Brooklyn, John was not allowed to pay for even a thimbleful of just-off-a-da-boat, and has established an entente cordiale which should see him comfortably through the arid season at hand.
"Among other migrating petrels in the month of May is numbered H. W. Red Wilson. Red is heading for England, and to date has been asked to wear back tvrenty-two suits of new clothes for the lads who went short on steel during April. Morey could have done this handily enough, with a layer of helium between each suit and all propellers spinning."
We wonder whether 0.0. Mclntyre is not Gene Markey's publicity agent, judging from the write-up appearing under the heading "Slices of Hollywood Life" in the April issue of The New Movie Magazine. Part of McIntyre's line on Gene is as follows: "As somewhat an admirer of sartorial geegaws for Migentleman it seems to me that the best-dressed man in Hollywood is not strictly of the movies. He writes for them at times, also books and book reviews, yet he has become one of the outstanding figures in the motion picture social life.
"Mesdames and messieurs—Mr. Gene Markey. Gene is the descendant of a rich and aristocratic family in that fashionable suburb of Chicago called Evanston. He went out to Hollywood two years ago to transform one of his novels into a film play. But he stays on and on, and is not only today the Beau Brummell of the town, but the favorite beau. Wherever there is a party it may be certain that Gene Markey, resplendent in Bond Street clothes with shirts and ties by Charvet, will be squiring some cinema queen of the moment."
You have no doubt noticed that King Rood is right on the job again, drumming up a few shekels for the Alumni Fund. 1918's showing on the fund never has been anything to boast of, but that's no reason why we should again follow the same old precedent again this year. Give King a real hand this time, and for once something to show for his efforts.
Secretary, 953 Madison Ave., New York
