Monday, Feb. 06, 1933

"Names make news." Last week these names made this news:

Mrs. Marion Cleveland Amen reminisced to a New York World-Telegram reporter: "It is possible for a baby to have a normal life in the White House, but it means quite a struggle for the White House mother. . . . My sister Esther [Mrs. W. S. B. Bosanquet of Marton-in-Cleveland, England] really was the White House baby. . . . It was she who was always eating the fancy soap in the baths that were a novelty even in the White House. She was just three when we were leaving. My father saw her all dressed to go and asked why she was going away, and she laughed and told him: 'McTinley's toming, tan't have two Presidents.' . . . I went back to the White House again for the first time three years ago. . . . Downstairs nothing seemed familiar, but when we took the elevator and got off on the second floor I thought almost out loud: 'Oh, this takes me back.' It was an odor, something with roses. I couldn't tell Mrs. Hoover the smell reminded me of something, so I asked mother about it later. She said: 'Why, yes, there was always that nice smell there, of rose and a little musty.' "

In Good Housekeeping magazine Mrs. James Roosevelt, mother of the President-elect, wrote of the marriage of her son: "Eleanor and Franklin often to this day laugh over their chagrin when, immediately after the service had ended, and they took their places in the receiving line, they found that their guests were more concerned about greeting the president than in congratulating them. For an awful moment, the children insist, they were left entirely alone while the crowd hovered around Mr. [Theodore] Roosevelt, shaking him by the hand.

At. No. 35 Washington Street, Manhattan, early last month opened the Midday Soup Kitchen, serving 300 lunches of soup, bread & milk to the indigent. Observing the walls decorated with pictures of Cunard Liners, reporters last week discovered that the kitchen's manager is Lady Sparks, wife of Cunard's New York manager, Sir Thomas Ashley Sparks. "Really, " smiled she, "I'm only the cook here."

Protesting against publication of an aesthetic advertisement, Ruth Hale, prominent Lucy Stone Leaguer (maiden name users) wrote a warm letter to The Nation, signed it "Mrs. Heywood Broun."

Stripping to the waist in the office of Govenor Floyd Olson of Minnesota, Congressman-elect Francis Henry SHoemaker displayed several large bruises. Cried he: "If you don't investigate, I'll do something about it when I get to Washington." Mr. Shoemaker said that while under the influence of an opiate administered for a tooth extraction, he was taken to the wrong hospital, forcibly detained, beaten, handcuffed, straitjacketed. Govenor Olson wanted to know how he got away.

Exclaimed Congressman Shoemaker: "For six years I lived across the street from Harry Houdini. He taught me all the tricks."

Radio listeners to a broadcast by "Ozzie" Nelson's band at the Hotel New Yorker in Manhattan, heard the announcer say one midnight: "The next number will be 'Reefer Man,' * at the request of one of our distinguished guests, Senator Huey Long." The Senator's companion that evening: plump, dimple-kneed little Dancer Ann Pennington.

Ellin Mackay Berlin, daughter of Telegraph Tycoon Clarence Mackay and wife of Composer Irving Berlin, made her debut as a short-story writer in the Saturday Evening Post. Title: "But Not for Love."

The faintly autobiographical plot: Sally was a debutante, but she "wanted to know people who do things, do things myself." She fell in love with Tom, who was dangerous and did nothing, but "money gave him power and power is becoming to a man." Tom was gentle with her, kissed her a few times, then went away. Sally was heartbroken, tried taking a hot bath in her nightgown and sitting beside an open window, hoping to get pneumonia and die. She did not die, but a truck hit her one day and when she woke up she wanted to live. . . . Years later she met Tom in a speakeasy. "Of course I remember you. Do you know my husband?"

Because Poet-Laureate John Masefield's U.S. manager booked him for only one lecture in Canada, the Toronto Telegram headlined: A LION ON A LEASH AND THAT LEASH U.S.A. Newsmen recalled the New York Telegraph's headline upon the occasion that the late Poet-Laureate Robert Bridges refused interviews in the U.S.: KING'S CANARY REFUSES TO CHIRP.

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