wounded. Hearst makes it a rule never to break any contract with an employee, and did not relieve his feelings by firing sionaires and Mr. Coolidge as confisca

clauses of the 1927 Constitution, which had been denounced by the oil conces

a few executives. He humbly asked and got permission to broadcast the fight, with due credit to his rivals, on the Coast. And he stepped personally into the picture, resolved on stunts which would throw the enemy into the shade. At that moment, I am convinced, Hearst resolved any doubts he had entertained about printing the Mexican documents. But he wanted a Congressional investigation; he wanted it while the publication was hot, and Congress would not convene until December. Therefore the story had to be held up.

Dwight Morrow had been appointed on September 20 Ambassador to Mexico, and had set out for the capital without waiting for a Senate confirmation. His mission was conciliatory, and it was assisted by a decision of the Mexican Supreme Court invalidating certain

tory. The effect of the decision was to ease the diplomatic strain between the countries and to mollify large holders in the United States of properties across the border. And, so far as a campaign of "suspicion and ill will" was concerned, worse setbacks were in store.

How was Hearst to know that the new plenipotentiary, as a part of his good will program, would invite his friends Will Rogers and Charles A. Lindbergh to Mexico City? How was he to foresee the dampening effect of their visit on his documentary dynamite?

Ambassador Morrow had a laughing acquaintance with the comedian, as have many of the "big men" in this country; with Colonel Lindbergh he was on closer terms. He had advised the aviator against heading a commercial air transport company, on the ground that the

United States, with its fast railroads, was not ready for such a venture; he had entertained the flier in his home, and had dissuaded him from permitting another man to write "We" for his signature, as was done in the case of the news stories put out in the aviator's While Lindbergh chewed a pen

name.

cil and agonized over his book Mr. Morrow's admiration mounted; and he came

to the conviction that such an ambassador as this could accomplish wonders undreamed of in formal diplomatic philosophy. So he arranged with the State Department (which had refused to let a Texas Chamber of Commerce send a good flier to Mexico) to clear the way across the border for Colonel Lindbergh, and then he arranged with President Calles to send the invitation as though it were just a happy spontaneous thought of his.

That Lindbergh was to make the flight was announced to a waiting world the very same morning Hearst sprang his story about Mexican money for United States Senators. On the Senatorial story he put a headline three inches tall across the top of his New York "American," and to the Lindbergh story he gave an item three and threequarter inches long, headline and all, at the bottom of the page. How different the other entrepreneurs of pure news! The "Herald Tribune," which had no ax to grind, put the Lindbergh story under a single-column head with good display. The "Times," which had arranged to get the Colonel's "own" stories, just as it got them after the Paris flight, gave the announcement a three-column headline to lead its first page, and ran over inside with the story. Not all the Hearst revelations about Mexico could hold a candle in the public eye with the blinding fact that its adored Lindbergh was to do another of those thrilling stunts. Thirtyfive million readers figuratively jumped up and down and clapped their hands. Thus what was to have been the big explosion in the Hearst papers sizzled like a damp firecracker. Not until the Senate took up the matter in a serious way, a few days later, did it get the publicity Hearst hoped for; and even then it was overwhelmed in the joyful acclaim of Lindbergh's flight-an acclaim which arose on both sides of the border.

It was a hard break for the Playboy of the Press, but he was not at the end of his rope. Whether or not, by some legerdemain, he turns the table and justifies his Mexican "exposé," at least to his own readers, remains to be seen. At

this writing it appears improbable. But even if it is done, the other papers are likely to ignore it. They will ignore it if they can. Hearst has been their scapegoat for more than a quarter of a century, and all the sins of their fathers have been visited on his head. He gets the blame and none of the praise. When a Hearst reporter, by interviewing a juror, caused a mistrial of the FordSapiro suit, and the stunt was denounced from the bench as "depraved journalism," editorial sanctums from coast to coast rocked with horror of Hearst methods; but when a Hearst reporter turned up the fact that Harry F. Sinclair had hired spies to shadow the jury

never since approached that peak, when he stood on a battlefield in Cuba and received as his personal souvenir a shelltorn Spanish standard. He had made that war. It is true that the elder Pulitzer had helped, but any Hearst man will tell you the "World" joined the Junker propaganda because it it was forced to. The triumph of having driven this country into conflict with a weak nation, in the certainty of victory-but perhaps without prescience that the victory meant imperialism that triumph is Hearst's. And it is safe to say that this was the proudest moment of his life, his dramatic apex of power.

B

UT Hearst has still a trick or two up

his sleeve wherewith to confuse his competitors. He has not forgotten that Dempsey-Tunney broadcast, and is at work on the formation of a fifty-station radio network, with WHN in New York as the key station. Through his farflung newspapers he will give publicity to its programs, and through the air he will broadcast International News bulletins. More and who but Hearst would have thought of this?-he will broadcast motion pictures! Indeed, he has already tried the experiment. A description of "Love," with incidental music, has been put on the air, reel by reel, just like a prize-fight.

Aside from his news reel, Hearst puts out few pictures nowadays save those starring Marion Davies. These are released through the Metro-Goldwyn group, which is interested also in the radio hook-up. Early in the history of the motion pictures, as Terry Ramsaye has shown, newspapers conspired with the new vehicle of amusement to their mutual profit. Hearst appears to be the first publisher to see the possibilities of tying together all three avenues to the public mind.

Nearing sixty-five, Hearst is capable of such schemes and such showmanship as this. Yet his life is now an anticlimax. Its apex was reached in his middle thirties, and has been a steady decline since then. Only an incorrigible Only an incorrigible appetite for power in its spectacular manifestations drives him on. The spectacle never quite comes off. He has

FTER such a moment the abortion of his Mexican adventure, the uncertainty of his scheme to effect a newspaper-movie-radio tie-up, the grandiose dispensation of Christmas dinners to the poor are pale compensations. Buying castles and churches in Spain and Italy and England, and having some of them transported to this country, offers no adequate balm for the hurt of the Dempsey-Tunney broadcast. An immense barony in central California and plans for landscaping, palace-building, plans for landscaping, palace-building, are a bit thin after the high emprise of journalistic exploits. It must be said that Hearst has a real flair for rare books and old tapestries. Agents are continually scouting Europe for him, ✔ and sending over precious objects, with sight drafts attached. In such an emergency, Hearst just draws on one of his twoscore properties for the wherewith to meet the bill. He has no stated income, and his hobbies become an expense charge against his companies.

"It is to be noted," says a memorandum which forms part of the voluminous hearings of the Couzens Senate Committee into the operations of the Internal Revenue Bureau as administered under Secretary Andrew W. Mellon, "that no records are kept by Mr. Hearst in spite of the various ramifications of his interests." (Once upon a time a subordinate, who thought the conduct of the Hearst enterprises extremely unbusinesslike, undertook to draw up a balance-sheet for them; this involved changing his chief's drawing accounts into income statements, and the subordinate is no longer with the Hearst outfit.) The wildest statements are made, and are seldom disputed by Hearst, as to the range of his wealth. "In 1926," vows the jaunty "New Yorker," "Hearst's gross income was probably a hundred and fifty million

dollars." It might be embarrassing Mr. Mellon heard that, and believed Or it might not. The Couzens rep shows that in three years Hearst's S Publishing Company (the New Y "American") got reductions in tax bilities aggregating about one and the quarter millions. (The Hearst pap have been booming Mellon for Pr dent.) And they show that in 1919, year of Mrs. Phoebe Hearst's death, lent this newspaper a million, took in est-bearing notes for that sum, assigned them to her son "for no app ent consideration."

About half the Hearst properties reputed to be in red ink. In New Y the "American" (called by newspa men "The Vanishing American") p up a deficit of about a million a y It is Hearst's pet newspaper; he has fondness for the "Evening Journal," best-paying daily, which nets ab $1,800,000 in prosperous years. Atlanta "Georgian" has been a stant drain, but he won't turn it lo From his father, a product of West mining camps and once Senator f California, he inherited about sevent millions; whether the son is worth t now, or more than that, or less, is a n ter of conjecture.

CYNICAL, aloof, and cold, He

sometimes does things which s reckless and irresponsible. He can prankish, and yet he has about him imperial glamour. No President ever been more gossiped about: Hear dalliances, his extravagances, his whi his bursts of generosity and moods icy wrath, the magnificence of his erside Drive apartment and his neck the sudden transfer of his subordina and his incalculable changes of edito front, afford endless food for small t As a fact, he is a hard-working milli aire, who devotes personal attention his corporations and conducts his ne papers and magazines with great tuosity of showmanship. He gets credit for his real services in galvaniz ↓ American journalism, as well as cond ing every once in so often a genuin praiseworthy crusade. Probably doesn't know himself where his spiri public service ends and his genius spectacular entertainment begins. Mexican adventure is a current mani tation of one or the other, or both, haps with a blending of internatio intrigue. Hearst will have been dea long while before he is accurately praised.

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C

OMPARED with the Smith and
Vare cases in the Senate, very

little has been said and written

about the Beck case in the House. Yet proper it is, in certain respects, the more imporIn Xa tant.

by nem Except that it involves the question erican of the right to a seat in the Congress of illion the United States, the Beck case differs erhin every particular from the Smith and Joura Vare cases.

been

turn :

Smith and Vare were stopped at the door of the Senate, denied seats even temporarily, on the ground that money was corruptly used to influence their nomination and election. This involves a qualification or disqualification ut which is not mentioned in the ConstituIstion and as to which many persons be

lieve neither House of Congress has the right to inquire. The matter was referred, not to the regular Committee on old. Privileges and Elections, but to a special w committee.

James M. Beck, elected Representacutive in Congress from the First Pennsyl

vania District, presented his credentials; they were accepted and he was assigned Ha seat. But Minority Leader Garrett

raised a question as to whether or not Beck was, when elected, a resident of the district from which elected-a qualifiucation, or disqualification, specified in the Constitution concerning which the right of the House to inquire is unquesIntioned. The matter was referred to the regular Committee on Privileges and Elections, and before that Committee Mr. Beck recently appeared to defend his right to a seat.

There is no dispute as to the facts. They are these:

By DIXON MERRITT

gaged in the practice of law in Washington.

During all of this time he has claimed Philadelphia as his legal residence, though he appears not to have had a domicile there. Whether he has all of the time been taxed in Philadelphia does not yet appear in the record, but he was taxed there in 1926 and 1927. In the latter year, at a special election, nearly sixty thousand of the electors of the First Congressional District cast their ballots for him, while less than two thousand voted for his Democratic, and only, opponent.

Now is James Montgomery Beck a resident of Philadelphia or of Washington? That question the Committee on Elections, first, and the House of Representatives, finally, must answer. Mr. Beck said to the Committee that if it and the House later should decide that he is not a resident of Philadelphia— which would deprive him of his seat in Congress: "I should accept without any resentment, for I recognize that the question is not free from difficulty."

The consequences of such a decision would be very great and very far-reaching, estopping not merely an able man from sitting in the Congress of the United States-where, Heaven knows, able men are needed-but estopping thirty thousand other men and women from doing the things that they are doing. For those thirty thousand, however, a court decision would be necessary. For Mr. Beck, the action of the House would be final.

Those thirty thousand are men and women holding Federal Government positions, high and low, having their domiciles in Washington and their legal residences in the forty-eight States.

Twenty-eight years ago Mr. Beck came from Philadelphia to Washington as an official of the Federal Government -Assistant Attorney-General of the nited States. From that time to this he has maintained a residence, or at least a domicile, in the District of Columbia. During that time he has served machinery of appointment and tenure of

Many of them have spent practically the whole of their active lives in Wash

the Government as Solicitor-General and in other important capacities. During a considerable part of the time he has en

ington, and equally many have neither

paid taxes nor voted in the States of their residence. Yet the whole practical

office in the Federal establishment is based on the assumption that legal residence does not follow domicile to he

District of Columbia. No man or woman is, strictly speaking, a citizen of the District of Columbia. Those living in the District who have not retained citizenship in the States are merely citizens of the United States, living on ground which is essentially a Federal Government reservation, differing in size rather than character from forts and arsenals.

This situation has in recent years brought from some of those living in the District and with citizenship nowhere the demand that suffrage be conferred upon inhabitants of the reservation known as the District of Columbia. Though the fact is recognized that such action would nullify most of the advantages of having a seat for the Federal Government not in any way subject to any State Government, the demand has become insistent and has acquired large and impressive support.

Only the other day Senator Caraway, impressed with the futility both of acceding to the demand and of bringing about its withdrawal, introduced a bill by which the Federal Government would cede back to the State of Maryland the little plot of land, ten miles long by about five miles wide on the average, which constitutes the District of Columbia.

That may seem, on first blush, a bizarre proposition. But, if those who sojourn at Washington must have the right to vote, had they not better have it as citizens of the State to which the land originally belonged than as citizens of a new little State not as big as a fairly loose-cut cattle ranch?

All of these things are involved, in some sort, in the Beck case. For if those who work in the District of Columbia and vote in the States are to be denied that right, many of them will join in the demand for District suffrage.

So it comes about that James M. Beck, of Pennsylvania-or not of Pennsylvania, as the case may be-trying to keep seated in the House, is more important than Smith and Vare, trying to be seated in the Senate. They are two big --but he is thirty thousand big.

T

HIS bit of sunny Spain just thirty-seven minutes from the Public Square was the old Kearns farm for more than half a century. It was the old Kearns farm while the city slept beyond the hills and the Public Square lay miles away along dirt roads. Then suddenly the city woke and stretched and pushed its electric transit out across the hills and brought its smoke-stacks nearer and sent its army of land-hungry citizens pushing farther and farther hunting suburbs and fresh air. This was the old Kearns farm while three generations of Kearns boys husked their corn in the same weatherbeaten shed, undisturbed by thoughts of a future traffic problem in their barnyard. It is no longer the old Kearns farm. It is Española Terrace Gardens.

There is a steam-shovel digging where the cow-barn used to stand. It is excavating for the new Community Center Club, which is to be an exact replica of the Alhambra at Granada. There is a line of white stakes running from the potato patch to a point about two hundred yards beyond the silo. That is Buena Vista Avenue. It is going to lead from the Public Library, which is to be an exact replica of the Baptistery at Pisa, to the Public Filling Station, which is to be an exact replica of the Puerta de la Loreja at Seville.

Down at the end of the pasture, where the tractors are pulling stumps, is to rise the Española Auditorium, which will reproduce the Baths of Caracalla, and over there at the end of the apple orchard-that will be the corner of Buenos Aires Place and Rio de Janeiro. Street-there is to be an apartment building with a real leaning tower. Beyond the apple orchard the property of Española Terrace Gardens does not reach. But flanking it on the south and west there are to be subdivisions of the original development later on, when the market warrants their creation: Española Terrace Garden Gables and Española Terrace Garden Gables Manors.

By CHARLES MERZ

front that it is unnecessary to tarry over the story except for the light it throws upon a whole series of Spanish and Italian and Italian-Spanish ventures now in progress in widely scattered sections of the country.

When the boom came to Florida, it came first to a seaboard rich in natural beauty. Here, in a setting of palms and surf and coral beach, was a romantic background. Industrious landscaping made it even more romantic. Distinctive types of architecture were developed at each project. The PalazzoFirenze Apartments arose at Davis Islands, and five Campanile of San Marco were planned for Venetian Isles. A conscientious effort was made to devote to romantic purposes all utilitarian improvements (drain ditches, for example) which lent themselves to more exotic treatment. Old towns acquired slogans. New towns acquired namesnames of far-away romantic places which set the imagination soaring as they rippled from the tongue: Rio Vista, San José, and Santa Monica; Villa Venetia, El Portal, and Santa Rosa Beach. Wherever the situation of a project was particularly happy some special effort was made to reproduce an Old World charm. Coral Gables brought twelve gondoliers from Venice, with two gondolas to the gondolier, "equipped with all the picturesque accouterments of the real Venetian craft."

Conceived in this spirit, the boom in Florida produced a series of new cities which acquired a National reputation overnight. There was Coral Gables with its gondoliers, canals, casinos, subcasinos, and Venetian playgrounds. There was Hollywood-by-the-Sea-"a Hollywood," said its founders, "of canals, lagoons, and lakes, giving within the city limits alone seventy-five miles of waterway." There was Tivoli Gardens, of which the advertisements said: "As its name indicates, Tivoli Gardens draws its inspiration from old Italy. All architecture, landscaping, boulevarding, lighting, etc., will faithfully follow the Italian mode.

Even the smart shops at

the eastern end of the development are to be replicas of the Italian. In the center of Tivoli Gardens, in a miniature garden of its own, is to be erected the Villa d'Este"-a fireproof hotel.

Where the process of recreating in Florida the show places and garden spots of southern Europe found its perfect flower no two promotion experts would agree. Perhaps at Coral Gables. Perhaps at Miami Beach. Perhaps at Boca Raton; Boca Raton, "on the Camino Real-a really royal highway—paved throughout-jeweled with lagoons-fes tooned with tropical foliage-fashioned after Rio de Janeiro's Botafogo, the most fascinating thoroughfare in all the world." It was here, said the architects, that "the world of international wealth that dominates finance and industrythe world of international society that sets fashions and sanctions customswill find its new capital. Boca Raton is because the world of large affairs, smart society, and leisured ease has need of a new resort such as Boca Raton is to be."

A new world arose in Florida-a world of fronds and palms and palaces, of Moorish shops, Italian streets, Castilian clubs, and Neapolitan ice-cream.

TH

HE sensational development of Florida's most famous booms is sometimes supposed to constitute a unique chapter in the history of America, but we are unobserving if we do not recognize that this same transformation of the plain into the spectacular is now in progress in many sections of the country. Florida may lead the way. But the vogue for Old World architecture, the borrowing of distant and romantic names, the development of new real estate by making it above all else exotic, and the serious business of importing Europe piece by piece and stone by stone are all present-day characteristics of an industrious nation.

There is Mariemont, for instance. Mariemont is a long way from the poin settia blossoms and the coral strands. Its trees are not royal palms, but horsechestnuts. Mariemont is a suburb of Cincinnati, on the banks of the Ohio, not the Gulf Stream. Yet far away as it is from the east coast, securely put as it is in the center of the Middle West, remote as it is from cultural contact either with northern Italy or southern England, one reads of Mariemont that workmen are busy on the building of "lagoons," that the first of six "typical

Norman English cottages" has been built by Harry O. Patterson, owner of the Mariemont Delicatessen, and that "craftsmen are busy laying the stoneshingle roof on the Memorial Church imported from England, this being the reat third time these shingles were laid upon arda roof. The first laying was in the year 930 A.D., and the next in 1320 A.D., and the third in 1927."

Open the Sunday papers of thirty widely scattered cities. Turn to the Real Estate Sections; and if you do not find the announcement of a project which will bring more gondoliers from Venice for more new lagoons, you will find that a new Petit Trianon is rising on the Wabash or that another Ponte Vecchio is bridging an Arno far from the Tuscan hills. It is not always possible dsto borrow a roof from an old cathedral or build a network of canals. But at least it is possible to borrow names. Ra And so real is this zest to bring something of the Old World to the New that there is no important city in the country which lacks suburbs with a Continental flavor. Start with the innumerable Spanish suburbs of Los Angeles; go Feast to Venetian Gardens on the edge of New Orleans; north to Palos-in-theHills, Chicago; and east to the new | American Venice, sixty-three minutes from Times Square, New York-and there are bits of southern Europe scattered all the way.

It is at American Venice that "stately pillars topped with carven griffins guard the entrance;" that "fifty Spanish villas" are in process of construction; that "the Grand Canal is finished" and the gas-pipes laid; that "arrangements have been completed for the laying of the corner-stone of the first bridge, a replica of the famous Della Paglia Bridge at Venice;" and that "the whole scene recalls the ancient City of the Doges, only more charming-and more 'homelike.'" "To live at American Venice," say the advertisements, "is to quaff the very Wine of Life. . . . A turquoise lagoon under aquamarine sky! Lazy gondolas! Beautiful Italian gardens! ... The Great Lagoon, . . the Old World

.

bridges. And, ever present, the waters of the Great South Bay lapping lazily all the day upon a beach as white and fine as the soul of a little

child."

Nor all suburbs have a beach like

this. Not all suburbs have a terrain that lends itself easily to developments as elaborate as the planning of

whole foreign cities, the dredging of canals, and the reproduction of the Bridge of Sighs. But even where such improvements are impractical, even where it is difficult to give free rein to the imagination and where it is necessary to build upon more modest plans, there is no mistaking the effect upon contemporary American architecture of this new wish of ours to house ourselves in something reminiscent of a distant and romantic land. To be rowed home from the office in a gondola may be for most of us a distant dream. But there is always one's own house; and, wherever it stands, and whatever it costs, it can go Spanish if it wants to.

Count the haciendas when you tour the suburbs. Count, the stucco walls. How many streets are there left in the United States today, however far from Florida or however far from Spain, without at least one patio, one adobe wall left rough with trowel-marks, and one cactus, real or artificial, on a Spanish grille? The rise of Spanish architecture is phenomenal. Introduced into this country at the Chicago Fair, it languished for some years; then found a congenial comrade on the west coast in the mission style of California. On the west coast it stayed, flowering here and there into a church, a home, or a hotel, until suddenly, within the last few years, on the crest of this new enthusiasm for romantic real estate, it swept the country.

Haciendas began rising under buckeye trees on land as flat and unlike the foothills of the Sierra Morena Mountains as Columbus, Ohio, is unlike Seville. New and strange colors began making their appearance in suburban streets: sunburned pinks, overcoat browns, smellingsalt greens, and sliced-banana yellows. The household magazines began bulging with Spanish advertisements offering Spanish hinges, Spanish lanterns, builtin Spanish fire-boxes, built-out Spanish balconies, Spanish plaster, Spanish tile, Spanish casement windows, Spanish awnings, Spanish glass, and Spanish jugs to sit on Spanish floors at Spanish wells. "Home-builders are turning to those unique effects in stucco with warm subtle colors and gentle textures which impart the feeling of true Spanish hospitality," says an advertisement of the California Stucco Company. "Over the whole country Spanish architecture has cast its spell."

How real a spell may be guessed from the columns of real estate advertising announcing Spanish houses, Spanish vil

las, and Spanish bungalows for sale. Freeman Homes, Inc., announce in the New York "Times" that they have "bought an entire block on Granada Place" at Biltmore Shores, and are starting operations on fifty Spanish bungalows at once. Tracy, Pearl & Co. announce in the New York "World" on the same day that they are building two hundred Spanish villas on Long Island.

The business of importing Spain has made such progress that even the conservative house of Sears, Roebuck & Co. -creators of homes that come all sawed and ready to be nailed together-has fallen into line. To their standard list of American types, one hundred per cent conglomerate from roof to cellar, Sears, Roebuck & Co. have added two homes that are distinctly Spanish: the "Del Rey" and the "Alhambra." Both have bright-red roofs and low Castilian arches and breathe Spain through every stucco

pore.

F Spain leads the way, Italy is a close

second. If there had been no Padua, no Florence, and no Venice, Florida would not be the place it is today. Neither would suburban Cleveland. Neither would the suburban district of any othe prosperous and progressive city. Villas that would do justice to the Piazza Barberini are rising far from Rome. Bright orchid and pale salmon walls begin to line new roads as rapidly as the construction of new golf links paves the way into the wilderness for the creation of new suburbs. Half of our newest hotels and theatres have Italian lobbies, and half of our country clubs have gone Italian altogether. There are reproductions of the Ca d'Oro in cities seven hundred miles from water, and faithful attempts to bring the Villa Medici to cities where only the ice-man and the fruit-man speak Italian.

Nor are we partial only to Old World architecture. We go in for Old World wood and stone. It is good if the livingroom is an exact replica of the reception hall of the Alcazar, but it is even better if the concrete beams are glazed and stained and bored with gimlet holes and pounded with a hammer till they reproduce an oak so aged and so wormgnawed that it seems about to fall.

"It is a strange fact," says Talbot Faulkner Hamlin, in his "American Spirit in Architecture," "that at a time when there is a variety of possible building materials never before obtainable, when sheet metal and drawn metal and (Continued on page 120)