In Virginia

The Shenandoah Valley, where snow fell last fortnight, was bright last week with drifts of apple blossoms. Governor Harry Flood Byrd, himself a big cider, applesauce and vinegar producer, flew by blimp from Richmond to Winchester to crown the queen of the valley's blossom festival, Miss Mary Wise Boxley of Roanoke. It was a lyric occasion. Visitors waxed ecstatic over the scenery, the verdure, the marching schoolchildren. Newsgatherers tasted real Virginia applejack. None had a more gladsome time than his suave and swarthy excellency, Mahmoud Samy Pasha, Egyptian Minister to the U. S., who, with Mme. Samy, had been warmly persuaded to attend. His Excellency enjoyed himself, at least, until Mrs. Francis M. Reynolds, a member of the ceremonial committee, spying the portly dark-complected Samy Pasha in his place of honor on a school-house porch, requested him to depart. She did not "want him around," said Mrs. Reynolds. Insulted, Samy Pasha and his party returned to their hotel. Not until Governor Byrd apologized in person for Mrs. Reynolds' stupid race-blindness did Samy Pasha shrug his smooth shoulders and say, good-naturedly: "It's all right. We forget it."