Chucking Bluffs

O. O. McIntyre // New York’s 400 leap from the silken coverlets every week or so to learn that another prince has become a quince. The suave young cavalier with crested calling cards who made a perfect dandy fourth at bridge turned out to be an apple polisher—or something from Sauk City, Wis. If you have a bluff aching to be chucked welcome to our city. This is the place to chuck it. And the sky is the limit. Go over the trail and if you think this is a sophisticated and suspicious city you need careful examination.

The grilled doors of mansions have been thrown open to so many humbugs that you would imagine something would be done about it. But nothing is done. Barnum spake a mouthful. New York is the target for more fakes and isms than any other civilized center in the world. It doesn’t matter if they fizzle and fall flat, there are plenty of people to think of new ones. If you’ve a jmmypipe joysmoke idea lying around loose, varnish it up, take the train for this cultured metropolis and you can cash in.

Syndicated column, Jan. 13, 1923

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