Philadelphians laid out 25¢ and purchased The Philadelphian. Opening this new monthly, a Philadelphianization of the weekly New Yorker, they discovered a description of the magazine by its editors which gave cause for alarm: "An entertainment . . . just a big, good-natured thurible."*
"Turrible thurible!" muttered the Philadelphians. All they had got for their quarter was an unpromsing variant of Vanity Fair, with faithful reference to Michael Arlen in each of the first three leading articles, scattered mentions of Manhattan dramatic critics and their gathering place (the Hotel Algonquin), a theatre page...