Another triumph for Reno.....

On the occasion of our visit she showed me a package of letters tied with white satin ribbon; "Glen's letters," she said; "he wrote me one every day I was in Reno and they are the most beautiful letters ever written." I read some of them and I agreed with her; I wish she would allow me to publish them: it would make a good world better for having read them. "Nor has earth, nor Heaven nor h.e.l.l any bars through which love cannot burst its way toward reunion and completeness"....

And yet this queen of matrimonial bliss said to me, "I wish that all mothers would warn their girls against ideals which are not practical.

I blame my ideals for years of utter misery; my ideal was a perfect man."

"Someone has said: 'G.o.d does not make imperfect things,' and yet can anyone say that he has ever seen a perfect man or a woman? I held on to the shreds of my ideal until there was not a shred left to hang on to; until my heart lay bruised and bleeding on the altar of dead and gone ideals. And then wisdom came and whispered: 'You have been looking for perfection, but there is no such thing on this earth: we must be forbearing and forgiving: 'forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.'

"With wisdom came new ideals that were practical and a new kind of love, indulgent and forgiving, yet self-respecting; a love as strong as the Rock of Ages. Love--a little thing--a sentiment perhaps--and yet without it what would be left of that which we call life....

"There are emotions which make for ambition, for right living, for honor and position, but how pitifully small and inconsequential besides the mighty tomes which, circling the globe, comprise the lexicon of love. Love--the symbol and sequel of birth, the solace of death--the essence of divinity! Frozen indeed is the heart which has never felt its glow; gross and sordid the soul which has never been illumined by its sunshine.

"To live is to love, my friend, and to love is to suffer a little and to be happy much."

PART 4

RENO COMEDIES

According to some of the comic postcards which are sent out, Reno was known in the time of Adam and Eve.

Someone sent me a card while there, which depicted Adam and Eve under the famous apple-tree. (Telephone: 281 Apple.) Eve was beautiful in flowing hair and fig leaf. Adam had one on too, a rather faded affair.

Adam was plucking a nice, fat, green fig leaf out of his salad. Under the picture were written the words: "Eve, the next time you put my dress suit in the salad, Reno for me."

One sees and hears funny things in Reno. For instance, no one will abide there long before being asked: "Are you here for the cure?" At first you may look astonished and say: "No, I am perfectly well, thank you," but the smile that lightens the questioner's face makes the meaning slowly dawn upon one. One can hear a porter say to a conductor of the train from the East: "Any victims today?"; and the hotels frequented by the divorcees are known as "hospitals for the first aid to the matrimonially injured." The reporter of the local paper will ask: "Any new headlines ready?" The Court House is known as "the divorce mill." Sometimes as "the separator"!

Then Renoites are fond of nicknaming the members of the divorce colony, as well as the buildings.

One fair divorcee was dubbed the "Weeping Beauty" by her lawyer, because she wept whenever she visited him. And she looked pretty too when she wept: "like a dew-kissed rose," he said. A gentleman of mature age was known as the "Silver King" because of his princely bearing, silvery white hair and Greek G.o.d figure. "The Venus of Reno"

was another one, a statuesque brunette, because of her perfect figure and Grecian gowns. A very stout lady bore the graceful name of "Reno- ceros," whereas an old reprobate could do no better than "Renogade."

However, "Reno-vated" they all got!

An interesting fact is that your chambermaid, bellboy, hotel clerk, taxi driver, dressmaker, saleslady, cook and laundress, hairdresser, waiter and bootblack may all and each be a so-called divorcee. (For convenience sake, I speak of them all as "divorcees," although Webster defines a "divorcee" as a man or woman who has already obtained a divorce.) What is more, a great many of these people who are working are well fixed financially, and are just working to keep sane. I remember tipping my waitress one evening. The next day I received a bunch of American Beauties from that lady, which simply bowled me over at a glance. She got her divorce, and is now married to a wealthy New York real estate man. So you see it is difficult to discriminate.

I received shock after shock until I felt like a shock absorber. I was dining with a friend one evening in a restaurant we often patronized.

The gentleman with me desired a cigarette, and found his case was empty. A waitress, noticing his disappointment, extracted a silver cigarette case from her rather attractive bosom, opened it, and offered my friend one of her monogrammed cigarettes. Another victim!

One evening after writing all day without any recreation, I went down to dinner, feeling a bit tired but rather satisfied with my day's work. I said to my waitress while looking over the bill of fare: "Tilly, I have worked hard today; I feel that I deserve a halo!" Tilly looked at me for a moment, and disappeared. She was a devoted soul and had always taken great pains to please me. In a few minutes she returned with a disappointed expression on her face, and said: "I am sorry, Mam, I can't get you the halo. Cook says it's something Mary wore around her head."

Some of the witnesses in divorce cases are very humorous. I was present at a few hearings, when a tall and thin man stated in a rather shaky voice that his wife was a "beastly vampire," and that after living with him for two whole weeks she struck him over the head with a crutch and told him that she had a graveyard full of better men than he was. The present victim was the fourth husband of the defendant.

"Judgment for the plaintiff"....

Another pretty young lady said that one of her husband's favorite pastimes was spitting in her face, while yet another lady accused her actor husband of "too much artistic temperament, and whiskey temper."

"Judgment for the plaintiff"....

The funniest case I ever witnessed was that of an old washwoman. I don't know where she hailed from, but the judge said:

"Why do you wish to get a divorce from your husband?"

"Well, yer honor, he don't support me."

"But," said the judge, "is that all the complaint you have? You must have more than that to get a divorce."

"Well, yer honor, I don't love my husband any more."

"That won't do either," said the judge impatiently. "Is that all?"

"Well, to tell the truth, yer honor, I don't think he is the father of my last child."

"Judgment for the defendant." ....

What matter law and customs to even the most staid and stone-hearted Wall Street banker if he happens to be on top of the world with a woman who is a masterpiece of creation? There are many in Reno,-- masterpieces: not millionaire bankers--, and lonely too, sometimes!

Anyway it came to pa.s.s not so very long ago, that a New York banker of great wealth and international reputation went out to Reno to secure a divorce. After two months' stay the gentleman lost his heart to a very attractive lady, who also was whiling away six months of her sweet young life in order to shake off the matrimonial shackles. The banker was about fifty, the lady twenty-seven and the wife of a well-known New York actor. So lavish were the banker's attentions to this charming lady that he gave a most extraordinary banquet in her honor at the Riverside Hotel to which were invited about one hundred guests.

The dinner was under the management of one of the best of San Francisco's caterers, and all the table decorations were brought from San Francisco. The banquet, I am told, cost about $5,000--Hoover in those days was not popular as yet.... But alas! poor little Cupid was obliged to succ.u.mb to failure. Before the six months had pa.s.sed, the banker's wife "got wise" to his whereabouts and his doings, and he disappeared from Reno very abruptly. About the same time the beautiful lady's actor husband learned of the affair, and sued the banker for fifty thousand dollars "heart balm" .... And so we find a fool face to face with his folly....

"Alt.i.tude," did you say? I don't know .... Funny how a few fleeting hours can change the face of the world! How the mind when free and refreshed can see and admit mistakes, and how our fairy castles and wondrous dreams vanish at the touch of reason and stern reality. It's wonderful to have known paradise: to have walked in its flower-strewn paths and to have tasted its delirious delights. But the awakening!

"How could I?"--"How could She?"--"What was the end of it all?" "Who knows?"

It is not well for man to be alone, nor woman either, otherwise why was Eve bestowed upon Adam? That is probably what a young man from one of the first families of Boston thought while exiled to the Reno Divorce Colony for the purpose of ridding himself of a wife: the result of one of youth's romantic mistakes. The affair of some years ago shocked his family and Eastern society generally. Was it a shop girl from Boston, or a chorus girl from New York? I have forgotten.

Anyway, his companion in Reno was a fascinating little dancer of the Sagebrush Cafe. So infatuated was the young man with this little charmer that he spent his entire income entertaining her, and when the income had vanished he p.a.w.ned his jewelry, including his watch. But then, boys will be boys, and after all, what could the poor youth do?

All alone in a strange place! It is so uninteresting to sit and twirl one's thumbs: "Twiddle-dee Twiddle-dum."....

"That love laughs at locksmiths" and "All is fair in love and war"

seems to be the moral of the following, if moral there be in it:

Mrs. Jones, a very beautiful and statuesque blonde, went out to Reno for a divorce. On her arrival there she wrote her husband that she had repented: "I am sorry I ran away from you," she is said to have written, "and if you will come out here for me we will make up and live happily ever after." He came out and was arrested and thrown in jail, charged with extreme cruelty. The lady got her divorce within three weeks instead of six months, as she was able to serve the summons upon her husband in the State of Nevada. After that her sweetheart came out and they were married. I am told that some three years later the husband brought suit against them for collusion, but I never heard how it terminated. One of the noted cases of the Reno Divorce Colony is the divorce of a famous New York beauty and heiress.

While she was riding in Central Park one afternoon her horse bolted and she was saved by a handsome policeman named Dow. When the young lady looked into the eyes of her rescuer, it was a case of "love at first sight." This G.o.d of the police force informed his wife of the affair: she immediately packed her box and started for Reno. A few days after her arrival, her husband was located in Carson City, by the merest accident of course, and as it was possible to serve the summons upon him in the State of Nevada, the case was put through in two weeks. As soon as it was ended, Mr. Dow presented his ex-wife with five one thousand dollar bills. When the cashier of the Reno National Bank handed her the envelope containing the bills, she extracted them and deposited them in her stocking. She was advised not to go about with so much money on her, whereupon she replied that the "First National was good enough for her." That same evening a champagne banquet was given by the ex-policeman at the Colony Restaurant at which most of the divorce colony were present, and among them, his ex- wife. Both of them were extremely demonstrative; in fact the entire party was decidedly affectionate, and the affair was the talk of the town for months afterwards. After Mr. Dow married the famous beauty, he found out it was riot all heaven to be the poor husband of a rich wife, and so he decided to return to the police force. Of course, that would never do at all, and therefore the fair lady promised to pay him ten thousand a year, in quarterly installments of $2,500, if he would consent to be her idle rich husband. This he did until Mrs. Dow II.

found out that hubby was indulging in clandestine meetings with Mrs.

Dow I., and presto, change! the allowance suddenly ceased. After a few months of separation from his bank roll, having become accustomed to an easily earned income, Mr. Dow sued his bank, Mrs. Dow II., for the blue envelope of two quarters of the allowance, and the New York newspapers just hummed with a fresh scandal. Finally Mrs. Dow II.

tried to get a divorce on the plea that the Nevada divorce was illegal. Failing in this, there were ways and means found in the East, and at last they were divorced. It has been rumored that Mr. Dow thought the old love best after all, and that Mrs. Dow I. has been re- installed to the place of honor by his side. "True love never did run smoothly": not even in the police force....

A rather amusing story is told of Elinor Glyn's visit to Reno, not for a divorce, dear reader, but apparently for atmosphere, as she spent several months in the most rugged states in the West. One of the handsome sons of the sagebrush, known as the Beau Brummel of Reno, became very attentive to the distinguished lady visitor, and when she expressed a desire to see a real Western shooting sc.r.a.p, the gentleman said: "All right; the lady must have anything her heart desires, doggonit!" and so he staged a regular shooting sc.r.a.p. And they do say out there that it was so realistically done that Elinor fainted and was unconscious for an hour. The "fight" occurred on the train from Tonopah to Mina. Mr. Beau Brummel had been showing the lady Nevada's great mining camps: a couple of seats in front of Elinor Glyn and her escort two men began to quarrel, presumably over a game of cards. The fight grew until each pulled a six-shooter. There was a shot and a flash, and one man fell: dead, apparently, while the other stood over him, wild eyed, his smoking gun in his hand.

I can truly believe this story as I saw the dead gentleman auction off four times the same basket of roses at a Red Cross benefit, and each time he got a hundred dollars for the basket... However dead he may have been, he certainly was not dead on the vine!

Speaking of Beau Brummels, I never found out the name of the gentleman who came back from Lawton's one evening--or was it morning?--minus his silk shirt. A lady of the party had taken a fancy to it and suggested that they auction it off for the benefit of the Red Cross: at that time America had just declared war on Germany, and the interest in the Red Cross was at its height. The lady's suggestion was carried out with enthusiasm. The lucky lady was Mrs. Hall, called "the forty million dollar divorcee"; she bid seventy-five dollars for the shirt and wore it to a golf tournament the next day. Let us hope that the gentleman's linen was as attractive as his shirt, for the shirt was removed then and there and bestowed upon the fair purchaser.

I met a very charming young couple in Reno whose story rather interested me. I was not shocked at this case, as I had been in Reno some time before I was introduced to them, and had heard about it.

When I first met Mr. Lake he was with a very beautiful young lady to whom he seemed very attentive, and I thought surely they were sweethearts. We all went out motoring with Mr. Lake's lawyer, and in the course of conversation the lawyer informed me that Mr. Lake had received his decree about two weeks before, and as he had obtained a splendid position in Reno he had decided to remain there. His fiancee was expected next week from Alabama, and they were to be married at once upon her arrival. The lady with Mr. Lake at the time, the lawyer went on to say, was just eighteen years of age, and had received her decree about a week before. She had a fine little boy about two years old with her.

One day the young lady called, and informed me that she had just been up to the future home of Mr. and Mrs. Lake unpacking his fiancee's trousseau which had been sent on ahead, with the request that it be unpacked and hung up in order that the wrinkles all be out by the time the bride arrived.

"Look," continued the girl from South Carolina, and she held out her hand displaying a beautiful Roman gold ring of artistic design. "Isn't it beautiful?"