- Plutarco Elias Calles
- Paul Whiteman
- Pauline Lord
- Mrs. Fiske
- Otto H. Kahn
- Miguel Covarrubias
- Morris Gest
- Mary Pickford
- Leopold Stokowski
- Lillian Gish
- Lee Simonson
- Leonore Ulric
- Jose Juan Tablada
- Joseph Hergesheimer
- John Barrymore
- John D Rockefeller
- Ivy Maddison
- Jack Dempsey
- Jascha Heifetz
- Irving Berlin
- Helen Westley
- Heywood Broun
- Igor Stravinsky
- H L Mencken
- Harold Lloyd
- George Jean Nathan
- Gloria Swanson
- George Gershwin
- George Horace Lorimer
- Fred Stone
- Fritz Kreisler
- Franklin P Adams
- Fred and Adele Astaire
- Frank Crowninshield
- Eugene O'Neill
- Eva le Galliene
- Fannie Brice
- Eddie Cantor
- Ernest Newman
- Ed Wynn
- Charlie Chaplin
- Douglas Fairbanks
- Carl Van Vechten
- Carlotta Monterey
- Babe Ruth
Babe Ruth - Calvin Coolidge
- Ann Pennington
- Avery Hopwood
- Alexander Woollcott
- Al Smith
- We’ll Enter to Win, Boys!
- It’s P. E.!
- It was a Massive Silver Cup
- 'We are Going to Win,' Declared Harriet
- Buffalo grazing
- Hidatsas burial scaffolds
- Drums on a summer's evening
Our camp on a summer’s evening was a cheerful scene. At this hour, fires burned before most of the tepees; and, as the women had ended their day’s labors, there was much visiting from tent to tent. Here a family sat eating their evening meal. Yonder, a circle of old men, cross-legged or squat-on-heels in the firelight, joked and told stories. From a big tent on one side of the camp came the tum-tum tum-tum of a drum. We had dancing almost every evening in those good days. - Grandfather sacred medicines
“Do the spirits eat the food?” I asked. I had seen my grandfather set food before the two skulls of the Big Birds’ ceremony. “No,” said my grandfather, “They eat the food’s spirit; for the food has a spirit as have all things. When the gods have eaten of its spirit, we often take back the food to eat ourselves.” - At this hour, fires burned before most of the tepees
“At this hour fires burned before most of the tepees.” In fall or winter the fire was within the tepee, under the smoke hole. - Winter Camp
Autumn came; my mothers harvested their rather scanty crops; and, with the moon of Yellow Leaves, we struck tents and went into winter camp. My tribe usually built their winter village down in the thick woods along the Missouri, out of reach of the cold prairie winds. It was of earth lodges, like those of our summer village, but smaller and more rudely put together. We made camp this winter not very far from Like-a-Fishhook Point.