Hope Star from Hope, Arkansas on December 9, 1938 · Page 4
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Hope Star from Hope, Arkansas · Page 4

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Hope, Arkansas
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Friday, December 9, 1938
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-,<•«*•**? PAGE FOUR HOPE STAS, HOPE, ARKANSAS fWlsOifs Widow Completes Book Life of War President Is Put in a New Light By SIC.RTO ARNE AJP Feature Service Writer WASHINGTON-For 18 years, the handsome widow of Woodrow Wilson has been a phantom-like figure in the capital. She lives on S Street in the reserved, Georgian town house in which the President died. She goes out to sec a few friends, but they know they shouldn't invite her unless the party is to be very small and very exclusive. Occasionally Mrs. Wilson has appeared at a rally of Democratic women, '- wearing great, butter-fly-like orchids, •i the kind President Wilson showered on • her during their courtship. She has never, even by a simple "yes" or "no," revealed what the Wilsons, mister and . missus, thought during the turbulent , World war years in the White House. But she is breaking that 18 year silence. She has written a book. More Than Enough It -was done all in long hand in her quiet study where a picture of Wilson looks down on her. She wrote so well that she turned in three times as much as the publishers could use. So pulit- zer-prize-winner Marquis James was called in to edit the copy. , Those in the know say the book will throw new light on several of Wilson's acts as President. The reminiscences will run in part in a magazine, and appear in book form in the early spring. Not in modern times, at least, has a former First Lady written memoirs ofiherlife as a President's wife. What prompted the non-committal .widow to come out of her retirement? Friends say *e has been distressel several times over printed comments on; her husband's administration. She feels as strongly today as she did 20 years ago about the ideal he expressed. Several times since his death, in 1924, she has visited Europe, each time making a pilgrimage to the Geneva headquarters of the League of Nations for , which Wilson fought a losing fight. Only once in the intervening years has she ventured into the public galleries of the senate, and then there was a .characteristic reason; the senate was debating the World Court. Before she left, old-time Democrats had wheedled her into an impromptu reception; in Vice President Garner's office.' Mrs. Wilson hasn't changed much from the days when she appeared occasionally in public riding with her husband in his last, lingering illness. She is a large, erect woman, with hair almost white. In her face one reads few of her thoughts. There's a Queen Mary-ish air about her black clothes and' her hats. She practically never appears without the orchids. Old-Time Democrats She lives with her two brothers, and Friday, DecemKer 0, RAISING A FAMi By Olive ftoberfs Barton Let Child Put Pride of Pence Into Selecting Gifts Himself Every child, boy or girl, likes to put "self" into his Christmas presents. Not selfishness, but self. The things he gives must represent his own personality, choice and energy. Otherwise the tilings he gives to his friends or relations won't be real to him at all. It has always been a mistake, I Jiink, for parents who mistrust their youngsters' judgment, to buy, wrap and send gifts in their nShyes. Grandma may say, "Thank you so much for the beautiful vase, James," and this is the irst time James will know that he has jiven her a vase or anything else. He oses so much this way, and if all his !ifts are bought and sent by proxy so o speak, he lose half the fun of Chritsmas. One way, in purchasing the higher- priced present to be given in the; child's .ame, is to take him (or her) along, .et him have some say-so hi choosing. And let him write his own card and make up his own greetings. The child of six or seven may be rusted with a small amtount of money o go shopping. The amount depends, if course, on what you can afford to risk. A few pennies, a dime or any small change. From this age on up, depending on' circumstances, every child is capable of selecting modest gifts for his friends. A top for Matt, a bubble-pipe for Betty, a funny balloon for the baby. A cup for mother and an ash tray for daddy. It is excellent experience and still better fun. It sets a fellow up considerably to be able to pick and choose what he gives. And besides it is half of all Christmas thrill. Secrets are such an important item just now. It is also a plendid idea to put still more "self into the small red-wrapped packages to be presented. This can be done by allowing the children to earn their Christmas mony. It is one thing to be handed a dilrie or a quarter or even a dollar, and another to shake the bank each day to see how the treasury is fattening up. Maybe Tommy should sweep the pavement anyway, as it is part, of his daily chores. And perhaps Joan should wash her usual quota of dishes. But in December, it might be a brilliant idea to put uch tasks on a commercial basis. Especially if we intend to fork over some loose change, anyway. It gives these young shoppers a feeling of importance if their gifts are not only self-chosen but self-earned. Whatever you do, mother, try to approve the things they buy. If Tommy brings home a pair of mageaita socks for his father, large enough for mail bags, or Joan shows you proudly the pair of earrings she bought for nine- year-old Dorris, I believe it worth nil the fortitude and diplomacy you possess. Don't laugh, for goodness sake. Take your sense of humor out and tic it in the dog house. To laugh at thoughtful antf serious effort it to hurt pride beyond repair. A Book a Day By BHMM Cttton entertains at small teas and luncheons for a small group of friends who are so respectful of her wish for retirement that many even deny knowing her. Mostly they're old-time Democrats who surrounded her husband in office. For instance, she visited the Josephus Daniels in Mexico last year. She often spends an evening with RFC's Jesse Jones and Mrs. Jones. Reason: they all like bridge. Mrs. Wilson never seems to expect any special attentions, she never stands on her dignity. On her chauffeur's days off, she walks over to the nearest bus line and drops her dime into the fare box. Kings Arc Still Doing Business If you think that royality Is dead you have only to spend a few hours with Seymour Berkson to be thoroughly disillusioned. Nearly half of the world is still run by the monarchies, Mr. Berkson asserts, some pretty shaky to be true, but still open for business. Collectively they make a singularly rare story, commingling pathos and humor. This story Mr. Burkson tells in a book as interesting as the kings and the ex-kings an dthe pretenders themselves, "Their Majesties" (Stackpole: 53). It covers 'e mall from tiny gambling-kept Monaco to the biggest show of the lot, the British Empire. So you get a kaledoscopic picture; of staid, puritanical Wilhelmina in Holland spindle-legged Victor Emmanuel, standing aside for II Duce; Victorian Queen Mary with her 60 servants and no buzzer; the Kaiser still one of the world's wealthiest men; King ibn Saud, the desert Napoleon; the razzle-dazzle of gold beds and oriental manificence; tre easy demorcr- acy of the three Scandinavian monarch. Mr. Burkson is not concerned especially with their cares of state. He portrays each as a human being and the result is a vivid story. He does predict, however, that some day the crown will rule Germany and Italy and the other dictators states again, for dictator ship, he says, is a fragile afair, depending solel yon the strength of one man. Meanwhile this royal merry-go- round continues for better, or for worse. There is scarcely a king that has not been the target of a shot or a bomb and only a few have been free to marry for love. -P.G.F. SERIAL STORY LOVERS AWEIGH BY BETTY WALLACE COPYRIGHT, 1B3« NCA SERVICE. INC. OAST OP CHARACTERS JUDY A L C O T T — admiral'.. .*aoBhter. She faced a choice »«tween two navy miitorx. ..DWIGHT CAMPBELL—ambl- • ttoi» lieutenant. He faced a choice between kl» wife and duty. JACK HANLEY—flying nallor. H« faced a tent of a patient love. MARVEL H A S T I .V G S—nary wife. Ske faced the te*t of being • good Bailor. » * * Teaterdny: Judy feel* guilty talking: with Dwight in her car. 'The* another automobile np- •raackri? it IN Marvel'.. Marvel Ie«JM oat, nays, "So thin U what »*«'re up tot» CHAPTER XXIX TjVDR a moment she could only stare at the girl behind the wheel of the other car. Marvel opened her door with slow delib- eratness, then came and stood beside Judy's car, looking at Dwight and Judy with a burning directness. Even in the darkness, Judy eould see' that Marvel's face was tired, that her hair was not as beautifully waved as usual. She looked as if she'd been driving a long .time, as if she'd been crying, too. "I went to the ship," Marvel said. "You weren't there. I went home. I saw you hadn't even been there since you got back. I called your house, Judy Alcott. I knew l»e'd be with you, I've been driv- ,ing for hours. I felt, somehow, that I'd find you like this." Judy's voice refused to function. But Dwight, after his first surprise, could only say, "I thought you were still on the yacht." "The yacht!" Her lips twisted. "Do you think it was any fun, after what you'd said to me? And there's something else. Something J--I didn't know before." Dwight said, "Marvel, don't jump at conclusions. We—I— Judy and I—" *l suppose you were out here working out some problem in naval engineering!" Marvel said With fine scorn. « » • "WOW Judy's voice returned. She * said, "You mustn't get the wrong idea." Her face burned. She tried to explain, but anything %he could say would be cheap and Untrue, and so she closed her mouth and let Marvel's eyes flick her face. She didn't blame the other girl for being angry. But she wanted passionately for her to understand, and she knew she never would. Then Marvel said, "I don't intend to stand out nere and make a scene. Get in my car, Bwight. Drive to the house. Judy, follow us. I want to speak to you, too." "Maybe I'd better go home—" Marvel's eyes snapped. "No. You're not going to sneak out of this. You wouldn't want me to broadcast it over the station that I found you two together, would you? That wouldn't do you any good. Better follow us." She got into her own car, and Dwight silently followed her. When he had started down the drive, Judy put her clutch in and shifted to first. What did Marvel want with her? In a few minutes the strange procession stopped in the driveway of the white house. Marvel fumbled in her handbag for the key, handed it to Dwight. Judy looked around the living room. The dust was thick on the glass tables, and curls of it rolled on the bare floors with their bold patterns. The blinds were drawn, there was a closed, choking airlessness about the house. As if no one had lived in it a long time. Since Marvel had left for Bremerton, it had been shut up. * * * TUDY sat down in one of the low, J angled chairs. Marvel lit a cigaret. "Sit down, Dwight," she said. Then she leaned forward, "We're going to get to the bottom of this thing. I'm not going to do any hysterical accusing, and Dwight, you can just swallow anything you want to say about Gary Tennant. I could have married him long before I ever saw you, and I didn't." Judy thought, looking at her, that Marvel had never looked so weary. It was as if she were even too tired to put on her usual display of temper. She was simply hard, flint hard. She had a job to do, and she was doing it. For the first time Judy saw the determination of Marvel's jaw, and realized ,that the businessman who had millions had left his daughter more than money. He had left her an iron will. Judy thought of Jack, in the whute hospital room. What if he could know what was going on here. Jack, who was so happy, so steeped in contentment now that she had promised to marry him. Marvel was saying, "Since I first came to California, Dwight, I knew that you had been carrying on ( with her. She knew that I knew it, because I told her. I tried to fight it. Maybe I lost. That's what I want to know. Are you going to marry her when I divorce you?" Judy squirmed at the cold, matter-of-fact question. She cried quickly, "Please, Mrs. Campbell! You don't understand! I'm engaged to Jack Hanley. I—I don't love Dwight. Oh, you're wrong! You're wrong." She pleaded for understanding, her eyes on Marvel's still face. "I'll admit when you first came I was hurt. I—I was foolish. I thought—I thought I cared for Dwight. But now I know better. Oh, I can't begin to tell you, it's all so plain now! There was never anything real between us. It was hard to let go the dream I'd had, don't you see? But that's all it was. A dream." * * * CUDDENLY, as she watched Marvel's face, from some deep well of intuition inside her, Judy knew that Marvel wasn't as cold as she tried to appear. She was suffering. 'Her eyes filled with pain, and her hand, holding the cig- aret, trembled. Judy was talking rapidly, trying desperately to explain the nebulous and only half-thought-out emotions which had swamped her. "Dwight didn't ever love me. Even now, he only wanted to see me because he was lonely and hurt. I felt sorry for him. Oh, I could see—I tell you, I could feel—how lost he was. He—he loved you, Mrs. Campbell. It wouldn't have hit him so hard if he didn't. That's the only reason he turned to me. He didn't talk about me—he poured out his woes, and spoke always of you!" And now Judy was weeping softly, into a handkerchief she had hastily extracted from her bag. "This is too big to pretend about. I know the truth now. Jack Hanley is—he's wonderful, he's been so good to me. I've been a sneaking, sniffling little fool, keeping him waiting, not knowing my own mind." She raised her eyes, looked straight at Marvel. "I don't belong in this. Only you must believe me. I don't love your husband and he doesn't love me." Marvel stood up. "Dwight!" she said. There was a sound, as if she sobbed once, and then Dwight's arms were around her. Judy averted her eyes. There was such gladness on Marvel's face, such a stunned, incredulous light in Dwight's eyes. ' As Judy walked out of the room she heard Marvel saying, "Dwight, I—I wasn't going to tell you. But I came back, I had to come back, because we're going to have a baby." (To Be Concluded) Greenhorn Hunter* Cruel to Moose FAIRBANKS, Alaska.- (ff) -Sam White, wildlife agent, reporting on wanton slaughter and "greenhorn hunters" leaving wounded game to suf> fer and die, reported finding three cow moose lying dead within 40 miles of Fairbanks and nine crippled caribou hobbling about, part of a herd subjected to a ban-age of long-range rifle fire. He said such barrages are not unlawful, but are extremely unreasonable and cruel. Park's Big-Horned Sheep Are Vanishing ROCKY MOUNTAIN NATIONAL PARK, Colo.-(/P)_Disease and unfavorable conditions are killing off the 'cw remaining bighorn sheep in Rocky Mountain Nationa Park, says Chief ark Ranger J. Barton Herschler. A count last year showed 145 bighorns; this year there are but 130. Of- Mcials are making a study of the herd o determine the exact causes of the lecline. Paul Harrison in Hollywood Mrs, John Hay Whitney Unemployed; Horse Has Made Good in Films HOLLYWOOD.—Short fakes: Clark Gable, the Great Hunter, took Carole Lombard on n duck-hunting expedition. "At least, he did some shooting," she said. "Me? I'm just a retriever!" Freddies Bartholomew is becoming so Americanized in speech and viewpoint that his Aunt Cissie is importing a special British tutor to restore his accent and wayfe of thinking. ... On his personal appearance tour, Bartholomew is telling a story nbout the Hollywood child who asked another moppet how he liked his new stepfather. "I like him fine!" snid the second kid. "So did I," admitted the first "You know, we had him last year." And then there were n couple of little girls, nlso of Hollywood parentage, and one of thcYiV was bragging that she would be n flowergirl at her mother's wedding. "Thats not so thrilling," snooted the other. "I've been promised that I can be n witness in mother's next divorce case." William Powell not only is well again, but will return to the screen January 1 with a new Metro contract. So he and Myrna Loy will play in "The Return of the Thin Man" after all. . . . Joan Crawford took some much-bally- hoocd skating lessons for her stardom in the "Ice Follies" picture. She has learned to walk clown a few wooden steps, skate across the rink and go out a door. Alphabet item from the Hollywood Reporter, a trade paper: "After a hectic battle with the NLBR regarding the SWG, the SP, and the IATSE, the MPPA, which represents UA, U, Col, Par. RKO, G-N, S-I and M-G-M, are now having difficulties interpreting the W & H act in conjunction with the SAG and the SDG, who are having troubles of their own with the AMG, AFL and the CIO. Meanwhile the MPTOA, the ITOA and the declining AMPAS report an upswing in BO due to the MPAYBE campaign." Earl Carroll coined a famous boast when the stage entrance of his theater bore the inscription: "Through These Portals Pass the Most Beautiful Girls in the World." But La Conga, n local night club always jammed with stars, docs better by changing "Girls" to "Guests" and putting the slogan over its front door. RdnVance Department: Lucille Ball and Director Al Hall arc waiting for their picture engagements to coincide so they can take a couple of weeks to gel married. So are Marie Wilson and Director Nick Grinde. . . . Judith Barrett and Matt Fox, a Universal vice president, arc going places. The friendship began when they happened to meet shortly after she wns fired by Universal. He said, "Sny, I'm the guy who caused your option not to be taken up. Are you doing anything tonight?" More tests have been made of the wealthy Mrs. John Hay Whitney for the role of Scarlet O'Hara. Several studios have considered her as screen material, but for one reason and another she never quite has reached a real role in a picture. Meanwhile her pet squirrel, Pearl, has appeared in "Nothing Sacred," and recently Mrs. Mrs. Whitney rode her favorite horse in a test at 20th-Fox—and only the horse got a job. Frank Whitbeck tells about a WPA worker who is shunned by all his bridge-playing friends, Whenever anyone lends n spade, this fellow leans on it. Madeleine Carroll on Rye Bread Only two people holding n joint cnrd in the American Federation of Actors are the Siamese twins. . ... A new film ,of technical tricks will be "The Illusionist," with Charles Boyer materializing Madeleine Carroll out of a steaming chafing dish. . . . Jimmy Cngncy, in "The Oklahoma Kid," is supposed, to speak In an Indian tongue. Actually he VrVercly says "How're you, Toots?" and n few things like that, in English, and the sound track is reversed so that it becomes gibberish. Columbia's new aviation picture was called "Plane 4" until Universal announced a flicker titled "Plnnc 66." So "Plane 4" now is announced ns "Plane 104," and the next move is up to Uni- vcrsnl. . . . Director Al Green, until iccontly the president of the Hollywood Turf Club, has been assigned ot direct a picture called "Ride a Crooked Mile." . . . Greatest change in a title is contemplated by RKO. Dissatisfied with "The Pure in Mind" for a current picture, the studio wants to call it "While Slaves!" * ft v "—Get along Little Giftie Mother used to have one fascinating bureau drawer. In it were numbers of scented tissue- wrapped parcels. Gifts. Not gifts she had selected. Gifts she had received — beribboned, ornate, useless. Mother kept them all year. At Christmas she got them out — and sent them to others. Once in a while the cards got mixed and mother and her friends bowed coldly to each other in great chagrin for some time afterwards. j Nowadays mother's bureau drawer is practically empty. The little doggies that changed hands every Christmas no longer pass along between mother and her cronies. Advertising pages have |iven all of them a new view of what's new—wanted—usable in the way of Christmas presents. They report things that are fun to purchase — fun to give — and fun to get. Gifts that stay put—because people really want them. Gifts that actually cost less than the old-fashioned boomerang present Why not consult the pages of this publication? See what's new — and wanted — this year by your friends too. t * ' P

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