Through the lowering clouds of scurrilous criticism which have hung over Bawdy Boston for so long, there gleams at last a ray of hope that she may again cleanse her fair name and wipe the muck from her escutcheon. Under the guidance of her sturdy constabulary a reform is now in progress so startling and courageous in its nature that only the merest guess can be ventured as to the far reaching consequences which may eventually be involved.
For an unknown champion has arisen, a veritable Whalen, who declares that when Boston celebrates her 300th anniversary, eating establishments which openly display the brass rail, sawdust and an oyster-bar, barbaric symbols of a bygone age, will remove the same or be relieved of their licenses (see the Boston Herald, the Chief of Police or Ezekiel 23). Frequenters of such landmarks as the Loch-Ober Cafe and Jake Wirth's will be delighted to know that these historic features which have so often influenced their baser natures in the past, are to be relegated to the scrap heap.
Although no mention is made of the fact, this sweeping clean-up must surely involve the closing of the several thousand speak-easies now in operation throughout greater Boston, where bars of one sort or another are also said to be in evidence. But perhaps these proprietors will be willing to forestall so drastic a measure by serving their refreshments at a table.
There is little doubt that such a vigorous policy, if conscientiously adhered to, will remove the breath--at least of contagion, from Boston and its environs, and be a convincing proof of purity to the Tercentenniary sight-seer--provided he doesn't stay too long.