After the first Sunday of the girl show, he issued a statement in which he said he thought one-piece suits were all right. “And,” he added with a burst of real inspiration, “I am going to buy my wife one just like ’em.” Some one has lifted up his voice and wept because, among the other famous New York gin palaces to go with incoming prohibition, is the far-famed one formerly run by Tom Sharkey, the old sailor heavy weight fighter. Tom was a funny old fellow with not much more than a distant acquaintance with English grammar and such. When he completed his fine saloon, one of his first visitors was his former manager, Tim McGrath. They looked over the place together. At length Tim said to him, “Tom, you have a fine place, but there is one thing more you should do to it.” “And what’s that?” said Tom suspiciously. “Right here above the entrance you should have a fine big chandelier.” “Yeh, I know,” replied Tom, yawning, “But who would I get to play it?” That “Garden-of-Eden” party with naked young ladies dancing, outside of Boston, which cost Adolph Zukor and Hi Abrams, the movie magnates, $100,000 to quiet, and which may cost the Massachusetts district attorney his job, was the second time this year the aforesaid magnates have burst into fame. They—at least one of them—is said to have been in the big stud poker party in which a slick gent with marked cards took in a circle of movie men for a cool $500,000. They had him arrested, but dropped the case because the department of public charities of New York set up a claim for five times the amount of the money lost as a penalty for playing poker—which is the New York law. I can tell you a little secret about that game. That slicker would have been trimming them yet except for the quick wittedness of Norma Talmadge. It was at their home—of herself and her husband, Mr. Schenk—that the game had been taking place once a week for months. Coming suddenly into the hall, Norma saw the slick guest slip a pack of cards into his overcoat pocket and take another pack. She told her husband and the slicker was caught red-handed. Even New York, the town of spenders, gave a little gasp when the “Spanish Jade” stepped out of Greenwich Village and went shopping on the Avenue. The lady’s real name is Elizabeth Darrow. She was the belle of the village, when a young naval officer named Frederick Linde Ryan blew in with his new uniform and innocent illusions. He was married to the “Spanish Jade” and they began housekeeping on Riverside Drive. The boy, struggling along on his naval pay, tried patiently and loyally and uncomplainingly to pay; but his debts soon amounted to $20,000, with cigarettes at a dollar a pack and chocolates at $5.00 a pound. The other day the case was brought into court at the instance of one of the boy’s friends and the court ruled that the boy need not continue further to pay the bills.