Page 40 - 1940

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The Pulitzer and Nobel Prize winning play “All This and Hartridge Too,” written by J. L. Haydock, is in its sixth year on Broadway. It’s competing with that run of “Tobacco Road.” Miss Haydock has written several other best sellers and prize winners, such as “Who Stole the Lost Chord?”, “Murder by Day, “Murder by Night,” and “The Adventure of a Smoke Ring.”
Some of the success of Miss Haydock's play must be attributed to that con queror of the critics, that siren of the stage and screen, Nancy Cooper. In these six years of her role in “All This and Hartridge Too” Miss Cooper has won the praise of both the sick, the well; the rich, the poor; the aged, the young; the critics and us.
I heartily advise any of you downhearted women to stop in at 200,000 Park Avenue at the Parlor of Pulchritude to have yourself put in keeping physically with modern times. That hair-crazed, scissor-maddened, coiffeur-incensed Elizabeth Thomas will make you the new woman you’ve longed to be, on the condition you give her a free hand with the comb and scissors. Ever since her days in Hartridge she has been living up to her saying that “Variety is the Spice of Life.”
Walking down Fifth Avenue today we spotted a figure who looked like one in a seance with her great-grandmother. In her hand she carried a large pad and pencil. Every three or four feet she stopped and wrote a few words across the page. Behind her she trailed an express wagon stacked high with sheaves of manuscripts. She had a retinue of Fifth Avenue’s curiosity seekers, and not until her gaze hit mine did 1 recognize her. “Ruthie Finninger,” I screamed as only I can scream. After much awakening and greeting Miss Finninger came to and announced that she was engrossed in her poem called “Life and Where Does It Get You?” She couldn't leave her work, so she toted it around with her. She says you can never tell when the spirit will move you, and she wants to be there when it does.
A note on pink paper scented with Old Lavender gave our mail a different aroma the other day. M rs.----- of Cozy Corner at the bottom of Happiness Lane in the quiet love-infested neighborhood of Nestling Krotc'h invited us to teezie weezie. Mrs. ------ is the former Susie Long of the neat desk and the brown eyes. We cordially accepted and trotted out to her small cottage. M rs.------was entwined with three small girls whose braided pigtails stood out like streamers when they ran and whose lashes swept their cheeks like brooms. M rs.------wore that overpowering smile of one in peace and paradise and was checking off the minutes until she could drive her teetzie weetzie red Ford to meet her hubby wubby
Women make good with women on anything concerning a woman, and so the chief worry and toil of the female over corsets, girdles, and straight-jackets has been reduced to nothing for a renowned fee; any woman who is still able to be renovated can take a trip through Peggy Voorhees’ “Fairy-Land of the Femme” and come out
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