Boom in Turtles in New York

Manawatu Times, Volume 62, Issue 17, 21 January 1937, Page 11

Boom in Turtles in New York

Before long, it seems, everybody in town will own a turtle (writes Margaret Russell in the New York Times Mag laziue). One "turtle shop” is selling nearly IOU a day. Little things about | the size of a dollar, with their backs painted any colour you like, aud their names written right across them. The favourite name for turtles is Bbirley Temple; then comes Popcye, then Orphan Annie, then Mae West. But some people want their own names written on them, or the names of persons they’re giving them to. One dear old lady who was purchasing a turtle looked at the sales girl and said, "You’re a little flower, aren’t you?” The sales girl said, "Well, i don’t think so.” The lady had Little Flower written on her turtle. These novelties appeared first at the World’s Fair in Chicago. The man who thought up the idea later tried.it out in Detroit, Philadelphia, and Boston. He was afraid that New Yorkers were to blase for turtles, and he didn’t bring any here until a few months ago. But as soon as he got in town he saw that business was going to be good, and by the end of two weeks he had opened a second shop. Turtles are not all bought by small boys. Most of them are bought by ■ ladies. And ladies nearly always want . to send them to Panama or Poland. Bo 1 Shirley Temple or Mae West gets wrapped up in a djpmp cloth and put in a

small box with four holes punched in the bottom, and away she goes. The damp cloth not only keeps her cool but nourishes her, and when she arrives in Panama or Poland she is feeling very well, thank you. and would like some ant eggs. Millions of the little favours have at ready been sent through the mail, aud all of them have been alive when they reached their destinations. But not all of them reached their destinations. Somebody didn’t like the idea —or liked the turtle. The turtles are guaranteed not to snap. Aud you can throw them around —they don’t mind a bit. If they get fresh water every day and a pinch of ant eggs every second day, they won’t wear out for five or six years. They cost 25 to 75 cents, according to size. (The ones that arc the size of a dollar are about seven weeks old, and those that are as big as an apple are two years old.) But there’s one that the man won’t sell. Its name is Weary Willie, and it isn’t weary a bit. It has more pep than all the rest of them. It will dive into the water from a height of three feet, and if the sales girl says, “Willie, turn your head to the right,” it turns its head to the right. It was born in-Florida.