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THE NEW YORKER


dollars. Uptown, further, one of the most fashion - able hotels in the course of remodelling, had provided a few professional suites. The young man rented one, paid most of his money as a first installment on elaborate furnishings and imposing machinery , and the bulk of the remainder to outfit two attractive young ladies as superlatively swanky attendants. one of course is not fortunate enough to have an Elsi Inquiries among his associates gained him the in - nore, even by marriage, for a background. But there formation that the most grasping of dentists, aside

is the packing plant, or the tire factory, or the oil

from the surgeon extractors, had not hitherto dared

derrick, and any of those heraldries will take up an

to charge more than twenty dollars an hour for their other five feet. That is a twenty-three foot canvas services. Calmly, he set his price at forty dollars an hour and within a month - reverting to the parlance

of the Profession — he was turning 'em away. His patients mostly are perfectly sweet and perfectly wealthy old ladies, who have nothing to worry about but their health ; and, surely , forty dollars an hour is

and canvas at $ 3 .50 a yard. A hundred dollars would scarcely cover the paint, even at wholesale. Then there is the boy who carries the buckets around, handing up the stuff to themaster on the scaf fold . The itemsof garden hoes, trowels and airbrush machine seem small but should go on to the total.

not too much when one remembers that the young

The twenty American women (funny how we just

man is paid more for listening to symptoms than for any dental repair work he may do. He does little of that, anyway, arguing that since most of his patients are rapidly approaching their twilight, they don 't want

assumed they were all women ) will have something worth remembering when they get their portraits. And they might as well remember this : The price each pays would support two good artists for a year, or

oral improvements that cannot be other than tempo-

say fifteen students for one year, or, properly used,

rary. His major cares are not to inflict physical hurt

uncover a dozen or more undiscovered geniuses. And

on anyone ; and to be sure that the mulled wine and

a couple of years from now you 'll have a hard time

the excellent tea he serves each afternoon are to the tastes of the nice, old dears who so willingly pay him twice asmuch as anyone else in town has had sufficient

remembering what Zuloaga was. Chewing gum , was it, or a new Volstead drink ?

genius to charge them .

AS the art dealers in New York survey the wreck age, looking nervously about to see which point.

of the compass might bring the next cyclone, they devote their odd moments to calculations and figures. Most of these calculations, one would hope, have to do with the hire of press agents. For all of them , we hear, have become firm believers in the genus press agent since the Zuloaga onslaught. Aside from the

sions for portraits. The noble Span iard consented to do twenty fortunate Americans— no more . The price per portrait is said to be $ 15,000. Figure it out for yourself — we make it

museum pieces, sold the first day, which totaled some quarter million dollars , there is the item of commis


$ 300 ,000 !

Fifteen thousand dollars seems a big pany price for a portrait but all of that is not velvet. First there is the commission to the dealer .

Then the press agent must have his bit.

The cost of the canvas is not to be hastily overlooked, either.

A rapid calculation will give you a rough idea. A standing portrait, say : Nine feet of canvas will be necessary for the legs, another four for the torso and two more for the head. The dogs at the feet, or the bull ring, will require at least three feet more. Every

THROUGH one of the side streets in the middle belt, off Fifth Avenue, came a youngster on roller skates, sufficient novelty in himself to attract attention, rattling along the sidewalks, where dusk had fallen and which the lull between homegoing and theatre coming had left almost deserted . He stooped before one of the street lamps and poked at it with a large, square key. Opening a door in the cast-iron column, he turned a switch and at once a sputtering sounded overhead. The incandescent arc cast an un easy blue pool on the asphalt, faint in the twilight.

One wondered why a boy was making the rounds so . Until ten years ago all the great lamps on Fifth Avenue and in the neighboring streets were waked to duty by youngsters who made their rounds on roller skates, and shut off when day was flushing by the same boys. These youths were paid $ 3.50 weekly, and many an ambitious kid struggled to comparative education on such income. Then the electric light company hooked up the lights to central switches and a choice field of endeavor was forever closed to boys.

THE temperature always drops in the vicinity of 1 an iceberg, so Charles Evans Hughes' association with President Coolidge may account for the public acceptance of its recent Secretary of State as one of those gentlemen with a permanent frosting. It is not so . He is a charming and genial person, even under such trying circumstance as discovering that the Pullman compartment reserved for himself and Mrs. Hughes was occupied by a couple, who held tickets.

The Secretary, warm and friendly , insisted that the couple keep the compartment, yielding to the legal per centage which favors possession. Mrs. Hughes offered a box of candy for the lady's delight. The two cou