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Computer Vision
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Computer Vision
Principles, Algorithms,
Applications, Learning
Fifth Edition
E.R. Davies
Royal Holloway, University of London, United Kingdom
Academic Press is an imprint of Elsevier
125 London Wall, London EC2Y 5AS, United Kingdom
525 B Street, Suite 1800, San Diego, CA 92101-4495, United States
50 Hampshire Street, 5th Floor, Cambridge, MA 02139, United States
The Boulevard, Langford Lane, Kidlington, Oxford OX5 1GB, United Kingdom
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical,
including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing
from the publisher. Details on how to seek permission, further information about the Publisher’s permissions policies
and our arrangements with organizations such as the Copyright Clearance Center and the Copyright Licensing
Agency, can be found at our website: www.elsevier.com/permissions.
This book and the individual contributions contained in it are protected under copyright by the Publisher (other than
as may be noted herein).
Notices
Knowledge and best practice in this field are constantly changing. As new research and experience broaden our
understanding, changes in research methods, professional practices, or medical treatment may become necessary.
Practitioners and researchers must always rely on their own experience and knowledge in evaluating and using any
information, methods, compounds, or experiments described herein. In using such information or methods they
should be mindful of their own safety and the safety of others, including parties for whom they have a professional
responsibility.
To the fullest extent of the law, neither the Publisher nor the authors, contributors, or editors, assume any liability
for any injury and/or damage to persons or property as a matter of products liability, negligence or otherwise, or
from any use or operation of any methods, products, instructions, or ideas contained in the material herein.
ISBN: 978-0-12-809284-2
vii
viii Contents
xxi
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Foreword
It is an honor to write a foreword for Roy Davies’ new edition of Computer and
Machine Vision, now entitled Computer Vision: Principles, Algorithms,
Applications, Learning. This is one of the major books in Computer Vision and
not just for its longevity, having now reached its Fifth Edition. It is actually a
splendid achievement to reach this status and it reflects not only on the tenacity
and commitment of its author, but also on the achievements of the book itself.
Computer Vision has shown awesome progress in its short history. This is part
due to technology: computers are much faster and memory is now much cheaper
than they were in the early days when Roy started his research. There have been
many achievements and many developments. All of this can affect the evolution
of a textbook. There have been excellent textbooks in the past, which were neither
continued nor maintained. That has been avoided here as the textbook has contin-
ued to mature with the field and its many developments.
We can look forward to a future where automated computer vision systems
will make our lives easier while enriching them too. There are already many
applications of Computer Vision in the food industry and robotic cars that will be
with us very soon. Then there are continuing advancements in medical image
analysis, where Computer Vision techniques can be used to aid in diagnosis and
therapy by automated means. Even accessing a mobile phone is considerably
more convenient when using a fingerprint and access by face recognition con-
tinues to improve. These have all come about due to advancements in computers,
Computer Vision, and applied artificial intelligence.
Adherents of Computer Vision will know it to be an exciting field indeed. It
manages to cover many aspects of technology from human vision to machine
learning requiring electronic hardware, computer implementations, and a lot of
computer software. Roy continues to cover these in excellent detail.
I remember the First Edition when it was first published in 1990 with its
unique and pragmatic blend of theory, implementation, and algorithms. I am
pleased to see that the Fifth Edition maintains this unique approach, much appre-
ciated by students in previous editions who wanted an accessible introduction to
Computer Vision. It has certainly increased in size with age, and that is often the
way with books. It is most certainly the way with Computer Vision since many of
its researchers continue to improve, refine, and develop new techniques.
A major change here is the inclusion of Deep Learning. Indeed, this has been
a major change in the field of Computer Vision and Pattern Recognition. One
implication of the increase in computing power and the reduction of memory cost
is that techniques can become considerably more complex, and that complexity
lends itself to application in the analysis of “big data.” One cannot ignore the per-
formance of deep learning and convolutional neural networks: one only has to
peruse the program of top international conferences to perceive their revolution-
ary effect on research direction. Naturally, it is early days but it is good to have
xxiii
xxiv Foreword
Mark S. Nixon
University of Southampton, Southampton, United Kingdom
July 2017
Preface to the Fifth Edition
The first edition of this book came out in 1990, and was welcomed by many
researchers and practitioners. However, in the subsequent two decades the subject
moved on at a rapidly accelerating rate, and many topics that hardly deserved a
mention in the first edition had to be solidly incorporated into subsequent edi-
tions. For example, it seemed particularly important to bring in significant
amounts of new material on feature detection, mathematical morphology, texture
analysis, inspection, artificial neural networks, 3D vision, invariance, motion anal-
ysis, object tracking, and robust statistics. And in the fourth edition, cognizance
had to be taken of the widening range of applications of the subject: in particular,
two chapters had to be added on surveillance and in-vehicle vision systems. Since
then, the subject has not stood still. In fact, the past four or five years have seen
the onset of an explosive growth in research on deep neural networks, and the
practical achievements resulting from this have been little short of staggering. It
soon became abundantly clear that the fifth edition would have to reflect this radi-
cal departure—both in fundamental explanation and in practical coverage. Indeed,
it necessitated a new part in the book—Part 3, Machine Learning and Deep
Learning Networks—a heading which affirms that the new content reflects not
only “Deep Learning” (a huge enhancement over the older “Artificial Neural
Networks”) but also an approach to pattern recognition that is based on rigorous
probabilistic methodology.
All this is not achieved without presentation problems: for probabilistic
methodology can only be managed properly within a rather severe mathematical
environment. Too little maths, and the subject could be so watered down as to be
virtually content-free: too much maths, and many readers might not be able to
follow the explanations. Clearly, one should not protect readers from the (mathe-
matical) reality of the situation. Hence, Chapter 14 had to be written in such a
way as to demonstrate in full what type of methodology is involved, while provid-
ing paths that would take readers past some of the mathematical complexities—at
least, on first encounter. Once past the relatively taxing Chapter 14, Chapters 15
and 21 take the reader through two accounts consisting largely of case studies,
the former through a crucial development period (20122015) for deep learning
networks, and the latter through a similar period (20132016) during which deep
learning was targeted strongly at face detection and recognition, enabling remark-
able advances to be made. It should not go unnoticed that these additions have so
influenced the content of the book that the title had to be modified to reflect
them. Interestingly, the organization of the book was further modified by
collecting three applications chapters into the new Part 5, Putting Computer
Vision to Work.
It is worth remarking that, at this point in time, computer vision has attained a
level of maturity that has made it substantially more rigorous, reliable, generic,
and—in the light of the improved hardware facilities now available for its
xxv
xxvi Preface to the Fifth Edition
Roy Davies
Royal Holloway, University of London, United Kingdom
Preface to the First Edition
Over the past 30 years or so, machine vision has evolved into a mature subject
embracing many topics and applications: these range from automatic (robot)
assembly to automatic vehicle guidance, from automatic interpretation of docu-
ments to verification of signatures, and from analysis of remotely sensed images
to checking of fingerprints and human blood cells; currently, automated visual
inspection is undergoing very substantial growth, necessary improvements in
quality, safety, and cost-effectiveness being the stimulating factors. With so much
ongoing activity, it has become a difficult business for the professional to keep up
with the subject and with relevant methodologies: in particular, it is difficult for
them to distinguish accidental developments from genuine advances. It is the pur-
pose of this book to provide background in this area.
The book was shaped over a period of 1012 years, through material I have
given on undergraduate and postgraduate courses at London University, and con-
tributions to various industrial courses and seminars. At the same time, my own
investigations coupled with experience gained while supervising PhD and post-
doctoral researchers helped to form the state of mind and knowledge that is now
set out here. Certainly it is true to say that if I had had this book 8, 6, 4, or even
2 years ago, it would have been of inestimable value to myself for solving practi-
cal problems in machine vision. It is therefore my hope that it will now be of use
to others in the same way. Of course, it has tended to follow an emphasis that is
my own—and in particular one view of one path towards solving automated
visual inspection and other problems associated with the application of vision in
industry. At the same time, although there is a specialism here, great care has
been taken to bring out general principles—including many applying throughout
the field of image analysis. The reader will note the universality of topics such as
noise suppression, edge detection, principles of illumination, feature recognition,
Bayes’ theory, and (nowadays) Hough transforms. However, the generalities lie
deeper than this. The book has aimed to make some general observations and
messages about the limitations, constraints, and tradeoffs to which vision algo-
rithms are subject. Thus there are themes about the effects of noise, occlusion,
distortion, and the need for built-in forms of robustness (as distinct from less suc-
cessful ad hoc varieties and those added on as an afterthought); there are also
themes about accuracy, systematic design, and the matching of algorithms and
architectures. Finally, there are the problems of setting up lighting schemes which
must be addressed in complete systems, yet which receive scant attention in most
books on image processing and analysis. These remarks will indicate that the text
is intended to be read at various levels—a factor that should make it of more last-
ing value than might initially be supposed from a quick perusal of the contents.
xxvii
xxviii Preface to the First Edition
dimensional world, is the longest in the book. Finally, Part IV asks questions
about the limitations and constraints of vision algorithms and answers them by
drawing on information and experience from earlier chapters. It is tempting to
call the last chapter the Conclusion. However, in such a dynamic subject area any
such temptation has to be resisted, although it has still been possible to draw a
good number of lessons on the nature and current state of the subject. Clearly,
this chapter presents a personal view but I hope it is one that readers will find
interesting and useful.
Another Random Scribd Document
with Unrelated Content
quart. In Cuba you pay $2.50 for a bottle of wine, and $12 for a
quart of champagne.
Pascal wrote that man was the “glory and scum of the universe.”
Much of the scum of the United States has floated to Havana. The
lure of “spiritual” elixirs (there is a vermouth in town known as
“Vaticano”) has brought a “bum” element to the island. Havana has
become a convention city for crooks who frequent the race-track,
saloons and gambling hells. Most appropriately has the outline of
Cuba been compared to the hammer-headed shark. Fights and
brawls are common; city jails are full of American drunks and
toughs. Cuba has imported laborers from Haiti to raise cane, but the
worst “Cain-raisers” have come from the United States. Sterne said,
“An Englishman does not travel to see Englishmen”—an American
does not care to journey here to meet such Americans.
The tourist, robbed right and left, need have little fear of the
Havana señorita stealing away his heart. Her beauty is largely
mythical. As a rule, the Cuban woman looks as if she had used a
barrel of flour to powder her face, and her body is built on barrel-
hoop lines. To powder she adds paint—mamma and her daughters
are about the only paintings one finds in town. After viewing and
reviewing these Spanish “beauties” (so inferior to our American
beauties in the garden of love), one does not feel inclined to
purchase the books sold here in the stores: “The Art of Kissing in
Twelve Lessons”; “The Art of Caressing in Twelve Lessons.” Taken all
in all, the Havana “angel” is an adorable, endurable inutility—an
expensive luxury on which to hang fine clothes and diamonds.
Pythagoras made it a rule to review every night what he had done
during the day. Were she to follow his example, I fear she would
soon be through, for she appears to be master of the art of doing
nothing that is important.
Havana harbors many “ladies” of that species one calls ladies only
between quotation marks. God made Cuba, but the Devil invented
some of Havana’s pastimes. The Cuban is “revolting” in his pleasures
as well as in his politics. Streets along the water-front are lined by
open bars and brothels brilliantly lighted—a mistake, because most
of the inmates resemble female Calibans.
The witchery of the old time wanton is no more. With Flaubert one
laments the passing of the fille de joie: “In olden times she was
beautiful when she walked up the steps leading to the temple, when
on her shell-like feet fell the golden fringe of her tunic, or when she
lounged among Persian cushions, twirling her collar of cameos and
chatting with the wise men and philosophers. She was beautiful
when she stood naked on the threshold of her cella in the street of
Suburra, under the rosin torchlight that blazed in the night, slowly
chanting her Campanian lay, while from the Tiber came the refrains
of the orgies. She was beautiful, too, in her old house of the Cité
behind the Gothic windows, among the noisy students, when
without fear of the sergeants, they struck the oaken tables with their
pewter mugs. She was beautiful when she leaned over the green
cloth and coveted the gold of the provincials; then she wore high-
heels and had a small waist and a large wig which shed its perfumed
powder on her shoulders, a rose over her ear and a patch on her
cheek. Fear not that she will ever return, for she is dead, quite
dead.”
Ten miles from town is situated the notorious “Casino” which is
trying to emulate Monte Carlo with its glare, gold and girls. If you
win anything there, you are lucky to get back to town with it without
being murdered or robbed. Recently a young man, who made a
fortune over night here, disappeared, and all they found of him was
his leg. Not long ago a stark-naked woman was found dead near the
Casino. The mystery has not yet been cleared up. At the gate
entrance of this palatial gambling-hell, I noticed policemen taking
the license number of every auto that arrived, to keep track of the
chauffeurs, many of whom are crooks and cut-throats. If you do
survive, and reach Havana in safety, the size of your bill makes you
feel very “automobilious.” Sad but true, it is easier to locate some of
our United States diplomatic officials at the Casino at night, than in
their offices during the day.
The Havana Oriental race-track has a bad name even among
sports. There was no exhibition of fine, fast horses or fast time,
simply a fast set who threw the races to the bettors who gave the
most graft. Boozing, betting and profanity were the characteristics of
the human race at the horse-race. Yet foreign, literary, dramatic and
musical reviews are crowded out of newspaper columns for daily
ads. and write-ups on the elevating amusement of the Casino and
race-track.
One cannot make an inventory of paradise in Havana without
mentioning the carnival. At the Malecon I watched the Señoritas
throw kisses and confetti—the confetti was six inches deep—and I
wondered how it would be cleared up till I remembered the number
of “rakes” there were on the boulvards. The Cuban’s idea of heaven
is an endless Mardi Gras where he may throw star-dust confetti and
waltz with the angels. However, the Havana carnival lacks the
spontaneity and gayety of Nice, Venice and Martinique, it being more
of a fashion show.
The populace takes little note of time save in the dance. All
society, from A to Z, thronged the theatres and club-houses where
they revolved like automata on a music-box. I witnessed one ball in
a small hall where six policemen were stationed to keep the dancers
within the bounds of decency.
Cuba has declared a moratorium, yet the people are neither
paying each other nor the United States, and act as if sugar were up
to 25 cents a pound. They cry for financial aid, yet I witnessed a
Sunday carnival where $75,000 was foolishly thrown away like so
much confetti.
The Havana youth is a dissipated dude who improves his mind by
strutting and staring on the piazzas, and accosting women with
insulting looks and words. With him cursing passes for rhetoric. His
time and money are well spent at race-track, cock-pit, roulette table
and the harlot’s house. He is familiar with all liquors except the
stimulating wine of progress.
God has made Cuba beautiful with her altar-like mountains, smile
of the sea, waving palms, fragrant fruits and flowers and sweet
cane-fields, but Satan has entered this Eden and left his slimy trail.
Cuba, “The Pearl of the Antilles,” has been trampled under the hoofs
of human swine. Too often the C in Cuban character stands for
cupidity, carnality, crookedness, cabals, charlatanism, “Caramba”
cursing, and contempt for Americans.
Lot left Sodom and was saved. As I sailed away from Havana, I
said with Solomon, “Vanity, vanity, all is Havanaty.”
* * *
The Garter
Consider the garter. It toileth not; neither doth it sin. It stretcheth
far, yet giveth not. When comes night it relaxeth, yet morn finds it
willing and ready, yea, happy to take, up its appointed task. It hath
no visible means of support; it upholds its end and other things; it is
the tie that binds. Without it our lives would indeed be loose lived. It
enters far into the career of woman, yet, blows no horn about it. It
hideth modestly. Once off the shelf of a blatant shop it retireth for
life and man sees it no more.
* * *
* * *
* * *
* * *
* * *
Dear Skipper—I’m in love with a fat girl and she insists on sitting
on my lap. Advice, please.—Kennett B. Goode.
Suggest that you place an ironing board over the arms of a chair.
You could then hold her on your lap indefinitely and not get tired.
* * *
* * *
* * *
* * *
* * *
* * *
* * *
Dear Bill—Who was the best known enlisted man in the United
States army?—Count Lehman.
Joe Latrine.
* * *
* * *
Dear Captain Bill—Who is it that attracts all the town girls to the
depot, and who always suspects the playing card manufacturers,
and who causes the farmer to load his shotgun?—Watt Hoe.
Traveling Men, of course, God bless ’em.
* * *
* * *
* * *
Democratic as he is, even the bootlegger treats his friend, the cop,
from the bottle reserved “For Officers Only.”
Limber Kicks
* * *
* * *
* * *
Little Mary had a monkey
On a painted stick,
She sucked the paint all off one day,
It made poor Mary sick.
* * *
ife is a jest and all things show it; I thought so once but now I
L
know it,” is Gay’s gloomy epitaph in Westminster Abbey. Did
he receive this impression when he walked the streets of
London? In his poem, “Trivia,” he tells us how to walk the
streets, what to wear, the good people to address, the
industrious ones to encourage, and the bad folks to pass by.
Poe, in his “Man in the Crowd,” writes of the mass of people, and
of beggar, tramp and peddler; of the modest, pretty girl; of the
women of the town like the statue in Lucian “with a surface of Parian
marble and with interior filled with filth”; and of a man who walked
all the crowded streets of London to get away from himself.
De Quincy visits the Strand and says: “There one feels like a single
wave in the total Atlantic—like one plant in the forest of America.”
The loneliness of his heart oppresses him among the crowd of
unending faces which have no friendly word for him, and he stands
“among hurrying figures of men weaving to and fro, seeming like a
masque of maniacs or a pageant of phantoms.”
Stand on the corners, walk the streets of our own big cities, the
capitals of the Old World, or far-away countries, and behold the
extremes of work and idleness, vice and virtue, sickness and health,
innocent mirth and mad amusement. The people follow each other
like the waves of a storm-tossed sea, and long after you have
returned to your room their walking, talking, laughing and crying
comes to you like the sad moan of the sea trying to be at peace.
Nature is the place to study God in the book of field, mountain
and ocean. City streets are the place to study man in the sham,
struggle and sin of life.
In the afternoon and evening, work gives way to play. All classes
meet and mingle on the street; silk and cotton, glove and hard hand,
auto and carriage, revel in a democracy of delight. It is as necessary
and natural to play as to work, and we must have rest, recreation
and rejoicing.
At night good people say an early “Good night,” read their Bible,
pray, put out the light, and snore. The Devil begins just then to light
his red lamp and lead his votaries into paths that too often end in
disease of body, darkness of mind, and death of soul. Next morning
high society may hush up the disgrace and infamy, but guilty hearts
know their own bitterness and that evening’s comedy has turned to
morning’s tragedy.
Cities resemble a Demon’s brain, and the women of the night are
its evil thoughts. There are too many wantons with powdered face,
brazen look and leering laughter; too many giddy girls with bare
necks and shoulders, abbreviated skirts and hobbled feet walking
the streets.
If there were no girls,—but there are more girls than boys, and
necessarily for wives and mothers to fill the vacancies caused by
war, vice and death. If there were no streets,—but streets are
essential as arteries of commerce, avenues of friendly meeting and
public parade.
Morning, noon and night we walk the street and see dishonesty,
impurity, poverty and disease,—old and young jostling each other in
seeming joy; but their tell-tale faces speak of a heart with a secret
grave of shame, where they fear they may stumble over a ghastly
grinning skull that will mock their joy.
It will take more than Art Galleries, Symphony Concerts, Parks,
Vice Commissions and Grand Jury reports to make the streets of city
life clean and its boys and girls good citizens. The cure for sin is not
a piece of court-plaster to cover over wrong, but the Gospel of hand,
head and heart that trains a child’s soul, mind and will in the way he
should go so that when he is old his steps will not depart from it.
* * *
T
consumption of the grand old hootch of the good old days
have been subject to warm debates as far back as history can
be traced. Here’s one from Hollinshed’s Chronicles of 1577:
* * *
L
something that nobody cares two pins for, but sometimes,
after the fabric of discussion has been thoroughly masticated,
literary criticism does come down to bed rock and agree on
one point which is incontrovertible. Among the subjects in
which there is at present a universal agreement is the declaration
that the American short story is the highest in perfection of any form
of fiction that is put out in the world. Even the French, artists as
they are, must take a back seat when it comes to the writing of tales
that are brief and effective.
It was the coruscating Ouida who emphasized the fact that
flowers of the most exquisite beauty have their origin in the
backyard heaps—wonderful passion blossoms bloom gorgeously in
surroundings that are the worst. The connection has never been
established, but the coincidence is indisputable, that the vaunted
American short story, so clean morally and so harmless that the
most modest virgin may read it without fear of being corrupted, is
modeled upon the naughty story, conspicuously American in its
construction, which would paralyze with horror any virgin who
should happen to lend to its recital an attentive ear.
If one could but divest himself of his moral pulchritude, what
paeans of praise would be poured forth in honor of that sinful and
abhorrent thing, the naughty story! It is so brilliant, so forceful, so
perfectly filed down and sharpened and polished until its edge is like
the edge of a Damascus blade and its point is finer than a needle’s!
Instinctively the teller of such a tale flings aside every detail which is
not absolutely essential to the narrative. There is not a word too
much. There is not a trace of description which, could be dispensed
with. All—all is sacrificed to the exigency of brevity and to the final
effect.
* * *
* * *
* * *
Baseball Extra
The game opened with Molasses at the stick and Smallpox
catching. Cigar was in the box with plenty of smoke. Horn played
first base and Fiddle on second base. Backed by Corn in the field
made it hot for the umpire. Apple, who was rotten. Axe came to bat
and chopped. Cigars let Brick walk and Sawdust filled the bases.
Song made a hit and Twenty scored. Cigar went out and Balloon
started to pitch, but went straight up. Then Cherry tried, but went
wild. Old Ice kept cool in the game until he was hit by a pitched ball,
then you ought to have heard Ice scream. Cabbage had a good head
and kept quiet. Grass covered lots of ground and the crowd cheered
when Spider caught a fly. Bread loafed on third base and bumped.
Organ, who played a fast game, put out Lightning. In the fifth inning
Wind began to blow what he could do. Hammer began to knock and
Trees began to leave. The way they roasted Peanuts was a fright.
Knife was put out for cutting first base. Lightning finished pitching
and struck out six men. In the ninth Apple told Fiddle to take first
base and then Song made a hit. Trombone made a slide and Meat
was put out on the plate. There was a lot of betting on the game.
But Soap cleaned up. The score was 1-0. Door said if he had pitched
he would have shut them out.
* * *
* * *
Way down in the Garden of Eden
Was Adam with Eve on his knee.
They never sat down,
But just laid around,
In the Shade of the Old Apple Tree.
* * *
By An Alcatraz Prisoner
Only a short ride from ’Frisco,
On a rock resting out in the sea;
A dungeon for “soldier convicts—”
The home of the U. S. D. B.
* * *
* * *
* * *
* * *
* * *
By D. H. Winget
In Flanders fields we poppies grow,
That all the passing world may know
We herald peace—surcease of pain,
For those who fought now live again,
Not in cold stone or mortal arts,
But in the depth of loving hearts,
We bloom afresh above our dead,
Our blossoms deck our hero’s bed
In Flanders fields.
* * *
* * *
His eyelids closed, his breath came fast,
His eager lips met hers;
They parted ere the week had passed—
She had a set of furs.
* * *
—A. B. M.
* * *
* * *
Jeu D’Amour
By Enid R. Clay
March winds were blowing when we met—
(And so the game was started)
You blew a breath of love to me
That left me broken-hearted.
* * *
* * *
* * *
A Lady’s Query
By W. D. Nesbit
Is it ladylike to giggle?
Is it ladylike to wink?
Is it ladylike to ride a horse a-straddle?
Is it ladylike to wiggle?
Is it ladylike to drink?
Is it ladylike upon the beach to paddle?
Is it ladylike to mutter?
Is it ladylike to stare?
Is it ladylike to do those fancy dances?
Is it ladylike to sputter?
Is it ladylike to swear?
Is it ladylike to use expressive glances?
Is it ladylike to gurgle?
Is it ladylike to joke?
Is it ladylike to boast of being wealthy?
Is it ladylike to burgle?
Is it ladylike to smoke?
Is it ladylike to know that you are healthy?
Is it ladylike to shiver?
Is it ladylike to weep?
Is it ladylike to walk through forests shady?
Is it ladylike to quiver?
Is it ladylike to peep?
Is it ladylike to be a little lady?
Budd’s Bundle of Bunk
BY BUDD L. McKILLIPS
“My,” said the old lady after her first night auto ride into the
country, “the people who fix automobiles will make a lot of money
tomorrow. Every few blocks there was a car standing with nobody
around it. It was so dark that I couldn’t see if they were smashed
up, but I guess the people must have walked back to town.”
* * *
Omar Up To Date
* * *
Blank Verse
EMIL ASKED CLARA
TO TAKE
A WALK WITH HIM
AND PICK FLOWERS,
BUT
CLARA’S BROTHER
CAME ALONG,
AND SO
THEY PICKED FLOWERS.
* * *
Mrs. Bloolaw laid down her newspaper with an angry snort. “I see
where they are talking about reviving the ‘Passion Play’; another of
those disgraceful shows, I suppose.”
* * *
* * *
“People Who Ride in Our Car Never Have to Walk Back Home”
advertises a St. Louis automobile agency. The girl in the house next
door says a hat pin gives her the same assurance.
* * *
* * *
ociety prize fights are the latest in Los Angeles and Pasadena.
S
The winter tourists, society people and so on have fallen.
Didn’t Anne Morgan set the example in New York? Main dining
rooms have been turned into prize rings, where, during a lull
in the supper dance, the fighters, their seconds, water bottles,
cuspidors and other necessary adjuncts are led forth.
No, prizefighters don’t generally have cuspidors; they generally
spit in the water bucket or on the floor; anyhow, they spit. They
can’t help it.
The swell hotels of Pasadena and Los Angeles already have staged
their preliminary fistic functions. There is no bunc about the fights,
at least so far as appearance and appurtenances are concerned. The
men wear regulation ring clothes and, as everyone knows, this
means they can’t wear much more than most of the women present,
who shriek with delight and false alarm at the thud of brawny fists
on hairy breasts and bloody noses.
Whiz Bang is not long-haired, consequently can’t be against a
good boxing contest or a fight, whatever it is they call them. But one
may entertain an opinion that some things were meant for men and
if there is anything a man is better fitted for, or can do better, than
women, for heaven’s sake let him do it.
The Alexandria-Alec, as it popularly is known, initiated the fad in
this burg. The society editors must have been there for one thing,
judging from elite galaxy of names which appeared next day.
Kid McCoy also was there, appearing somewhat better in his tux
than most of the non-athletic looking gentlemen present. The Kid
emerged recently from his ninth (or was it his fifteenth?)
matrimonial experiment. He married a dancer of the films, a bare-
footed one. But evidently she put on her shoes and walked out.
The literary lights were somewhat in evidence. Guy Price, Eddie
Moriarity and H. M. Walker, with the assumed or naturally bored air
that seems to mark the popular newspaper sporting writers, were
taking in the innovation or being innovated in the taking in,
whichever it was. Moriarity and Walker said who won the fights and
from their dour looks one would never judge they write funny titles
for Semon and Lloyd.
Tom Mix jumped into the ring as referee. Those who watched paid
well for it. But there was dinner, of course, and a dance, thrown in.
Bebe Daniels was one of the first on the floor. Not that Bebe
seemed overly excited about it. But the proud looking young man
who trotted her out seemed not without fear that his appearance
with the fair Bebe might be overlooked if he didn’t get an early start
upon the ball room boards.
But Bebe was worth looking at; incidentally, one of the few
modest looking women on the floor. They say she is stuck up. They
say that about most of the really stellar female attractions of the
screen. But the insider opines that Bebe’s bored look combines a
sense of humor and the common sense of a young girl who finds
that the glitter and night adulation are mostly 18 carat bunc. Yet
Bebe danced and danced.
As we have said before, society doesn’t know what to do about
the picture stars, especially if they are starettes. But to miss seeing
them, so one can talk about what they wore and whom they were
with, that would be ultra ignoramus, as one might aptly say. Just
what a bunch of supposedly high bred society women, Miss Morgan
to the contrary, can see in the spectacle of two men slamming each
other around the ring passeth, no doubt, some portion of the male
element.
Sounds like we are getting sermony. Far be it from us. There are
worse things than women in evening garb gushing over mostly
naked men fighting in the main dining room of our swell hotels.
One thing about Mary and Doug.; they are fairly exclusive. Some
of the younger stars might do well to emulate them. Yet, perhaps
before a star becomes a luminous planet it must do its sparkle; cast
its lesser light, until the fact that it does not glow at every gay party
can cause more comment than the mere presence, thereat, would
cause.
Mary and Doug. are becoming more talked of because they stay
home than because they step out. Of course, Mary and Doug. have
something to chat of among themselves again, now that Nevada is
talking marriage annulment again.
We still remain firm in our predictions of months ago that Nevada
has more talk than annulment in her system, so far as the Fairbanks
family is concerned.
* * *
An Arkansas Honeymoon
A young, newly married couple boarded a through train, bound for
Little Rock to spend the honeymoon. The young man at once began
looking for the Pullman conductor, it being a night train. Finally he
found that official and began: “Say, Mister, me an’ my wife here just
got married an’ we want the best ’commodations you’ve got on this
train.”
“You are looking for a berth, I presume?” queried the conductor.
“Thunderation! No!” shouted the irate groom. “Didn’t I tell you
that me an’ my wife just got married?”
* * *