Just a while ago we began to get used to seeing smartly garbed girls swinging open the doors of their limousines—requisitioned for Red Cross service. Now we must go further and become accustomed to seeing these same young women dashing about during rush hours in Market Street, assisting the traffic squad of police. In the language of the past, obsolete, but oh, so expressive: “Wouldn’t that jar you?” Would I had the power to burst into inspired verse! Let’s see—“police” rhymes with cease (also with geese, but that would never do) lease, niece, (don’t you wish one of them was yours?), piece (might refer to the fine, a piece of money?) and then “cop”—you can that right down the alphabet. I recommend the subject to some aspiring po-8.
Leaving jesting aside, however, these charming young women are doing splendid work in the line they have taken up. Chief White swore them in as special officers after they had shown their efficiency as drivers of the Red Cross ambulances. The eight new policettes are: Miss Gladys Pearson, Blanche Son, Cecily Casserly, Dorothy Mannn, Helene Podesta, Cornelia Clampett, Emily Tubbs, Mildred Landotte.
By George Rutherford
December 7, 1918