Life — July 22, 1915 — page 10: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

146 Interviews With Dead Celebrities DID not ask to go inside, especially as the sign, “No Journalists Ad- mitted", was hanging conspicuously over the left gate post. He came out pretty soon and joined me on the front step, “Well,” he news?” “T don’t know,” I replied crossly, ‘ma regular reader of the Evening Post.” I looked at him keenly. “Mr. St. Peter,” I said, “I ought to tell you now that this is a regular interview. I don’t want you to deny it afterwards.” “T'll stand by anything I say. What do you want to know?” “Are you all full?” “Well, I can't say we're exactly full,” he declared. “Several of the most desirable mansions are taken, of course, but there is always a chance for a newcomer. They're not coming very fast, though.” He sighed. It was now my turn, “ Why should they?” I said severely. His astonishment was apparent. “Do you mean to tell me,” he al- most shouted, “that nobody wants to come here any more?” “That's about the gist of it, old man,” I replied, “This is a day of frankness, you know, and I may as well be frank with you, St. Peter, you are behind the times. The same old attractions you have been announcing for so many years are played out. What you need is a new management— new advertising methods. You know, my dear friend, you can’t expect to go on forever in the same old way. A couple of ragtime harps, bought on the installment plan, aren't going to get back your business.” His voice lowered. “Well, to be candid with you,” he whispered. “I may as well confess that business isn’t what it was, Some- times a whole day goes by without anybody registering. And you think it’s because we're not up to date?” “TI don’t think so, I know it. Be- sides, consider the quality of your guests, No respectable person who has ambition and a future ahead of him wants to be thrown in with a said, “what's the “E'S MINE, "ARRY—HI SAW ‘IM FIRST” “ HALL RIGHT, STINGY” ‘bunch’ of old-fashioned Methodists, fanatics, Prohibitionists and hard-shell Baptists. You must turn over a new leaf, Get some live ones.” There was a pause, Then, as he jumped up and clasped my hand fer- vently, he exclaimed at last: “You're right, I see it all! I'l take space in all the magazines and papers at once. Hop every Satur- day night. Trap orchestra, Modern dances, Swimming pools on the sec- ond story. Broad-minded companion- ship, Here’s my photograph. No mat- ter how much it costs, I'll put heaven ‘on a new basis.” I left him studying rates. The Man From Nowhere Comes to Town O N his way from his auto to the interior of the restaurant he gave: The doorman a smile. The hat boy a nod. The head waiter a request. The waiter a command. On his way back from the interior of the restaurant he gave: The waiter a dime. The head waiter a quarter. The hat boy a nickel. The door man eight cents. Then—he gave himself away. Hands Down HERE being a widespread demand for a Human Imbecility Club, a meeting was held, and after an appro- priate constitution had been voted upon and agreed to, the object of the club ‘as set forth by the presiding officer. “This club has for its membership all the forms of human imbecility and bids fair to be one of the most pros- perous organizations in America. But, ladies and gentlemen, we must elect a president—one who stands pre-eminent about us all. Who shall this be?” The following candidates were put forward: The-Art-Department-o f-a-Suburban- Woman's-Club, The-Sunday-Comic-Newspaper - Sup- plement. The W. C. T. U. Anthony Comstock. While these distinguished names were being debated upon, however, a stranger suddenly entered the hall, upon whom all eyes were immedi- ately leveled. In almost an instant the stranger was borne aloft on the shoulders of the throng. “Our choice!” shouted everyone, and amid the most deafening applause the New-York-Summer-Musical-Com- edy-Show was unanimously voted the presidency. comicbooks.com