The Coolidge Week

P: President Coolidge having forbidden them to regard their semiweekly visits to his office as "interviews" (TIME, Feb. 13), newsgatherers last week refrained entirely from submitting written questions. It was the end of a custom six years old. To take its place, President Coolidge instituted a voluntary announcement system. The effect was dull. After gazing mutely at the slim, deliberate fingers on the neat Executive desk; at the immobile Executive countenance, over which the skin is so much more loose and translucent than shows in photographs, the newsgatherers shuffled out with nothing more significant to report than that the President would sail to Alexandria, Va. (18 miles from Washington), in the Mayflower on Washington's Birthday, for ceremonies.

P: Upon the Senate resolution against a third Presidential term (see THE CONGRESS), President Coolidge volunteered no comment. But, as every one knows, so soon as a subject of pressure is corked in one place, it is likely to leak out in another. Last week, anxious to guess what President Coolidge was thinking about the 1928 election, people passed around a remark, attributed to Son John Coolidge. Asked what he was going to do the coming summer, John Coolidge was said to have let slip: "Go to Europe, I guess, unless Father runs again."

All unaware that he, or someone, had started this widespread story, John Coolidge was last week more concerned over the publicity Deceived by Miss Sally Kunsig of Mount Vernon, N. Y., whom he often goes to see at Mount Holyoke College (South Hadley, Mass.) and who, after he had escorted her to Amherst's "senior hop" last fortnight, was hailed in the press as the successful rival of Miss Florence Trumbull, daughter of Connecticut's Governor.

P: Like Queen Mary of England (see p. 15), Mrs. Coolidge last week fell ill. A heavy cold sent her to bed with pain in her side and a trained nurse standing by. After four days, White House Physician James Francis Coupal reported her convalescent. The attack caused her to miss a state function for the first time in her two terms as White House hostess. President Coolidge alone conducted a formal dinner to Speaker Longworth of the House.

P: Into the President's study marched French Ambassador Claudel with two young men, one black-haired, sleek and wiry, the other burlier, rougher of hair, braver of necktie. They were the far-flown Lindberghs of France, Lieutenant Dieudonne* Costes and Lieut.-Commander Joseph Lebrix, just in from Paris via Africa, South America, Mexico, New Orleans and Montgomery, Ala. They had covered 22,843 mi. and, after handshaking and photography on the South Lawn, they soon hopped off again for Manhattan, whence they thought they might fly to San Francisco before going home. Said Flier Lebrix: "We do not want to go back to Paris by plane, because Lindbergh has already done that. His flight was so chic--it would be useless repetition to follow him. After we get back to France, perhaps we shall plan the East-to-West North Atlantic flight. Qui sait? Who knows?"

P:Last summer in the Black Hills, President Coolidge chanced upon a battalion of U. S. Cavalry which was riding to duty at Fort Meade, S. D. Greeting the horsemen, the President bespoke their leader, a mustachioed gentleman who seemed as cultured as he was weatherbeaten, and asked him to stop for lunch. While they ate, the guest regaled his host with many a tale of valor done in Cuba, Porto Rico, Mexico, the Philippines and France. Delighted, President Coolidge bade the officer stay for dinner, which he did, continuing his stories until late that evening. Then he rode on to join his battalion, as a good officer should. . . . Last week President Coolidge needed a military aide to replace Col. Blanton Winship, who had been transferred to duty in the Philippines. Remembering his cavalry friend of last summer, President Coolidge called him to the White House, this time to stay for months. His name is the same as that of the famed Confederate warrior (who was a relation), Col. Osmun Latrobe. His uncle, the late Ferdinand C. Latrobe, was seven times Mayor of Baltimore, where most Latrobes live and the present one was born 54 years ago. His hobbies are horses, architecture, more horses, reminiscence.

*Literally, "God-given."