Page 42 - 1940

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now taken a brief pause from her social and charitable activities, and during her period of relaxation she heads the Committee of Bird Welfare Association, the Fresh Air Camp, the Reforestation of New York City, and is still an ardent fighter for a lost cause when she solicits for the Finnish Relief. Mrs. finds minutes to be one of the opera audience, to take part in an occasional song festival, to bring up her children who numbered four in the last census, and to eat breakfast with her husband.
My children, all ten of them, tottered home today only to tell me amid tears and sobs that their school days were over. Investigating their fate more carefully, I find that that child psychiatrist, Barbara Smith, has decided that she has done her share of work on the Lilliputian world, and has changed her famed nursery for marriage. What will become of our children and their unfinished education in the School for "Tots Teething and Tottering” will for the present remain unsolved. Says Miss Smith, "I have finally concluded that nurseries should begin in the home.”
Combing the political world for a tasty bit of news we came across an item that has aroused much fury, bewilderment, and devastation in the Senate. The cause of the eruption can be laid to a storm which blew in from the northeast in the form of a woman possessed with the idea of reorganizing the government. Need we hide her name any longer? Miss Patty Rentsler, who says she’s been itching to “do them over” since her debates in Current Events class, has finally thrown herself against the strong walls of the Senate, and is holding a filibuster in the House today. The gentlemen are at the ends of their rope. Some consult “The Taming of the Shrew” while others dive into “Caesar’s Conquest in Gaul.” They will go to any extreme to find ways of defeating “this bonfire of the Democracy.”
This month’s Harper’s Bazaar took its readers on a camera trip through the spacious grounds of “Heaven on Earth,” the famed estate of the Connecticut hills.
Sitting on a fence, surrounded by a herd of mares and stallions, and escorted by her favorite groom, sat the platinum blonde of the saddle, Shirley Mulford. Her stables have won the crowns of the racetrack, polo field, and bridle path, and will go on winning with little competition. Miss Mulford’s bed is straw, her food is oats, and her clothing jodhpurs. Horses are her love, labor, and life.
Our staff has been struggling with Miss Shirley Eoif for several years now in her attempt to crash Hollywood. We have cringed at her every rebuff and tingled with delight at every hopeful sign. We must explain that Miss Eoff is a very near and dear friend of ours. Now we are as proud as new papas to announce that our little friend has not only crashed Hollywood, but is a star! When you see Walt
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PAGE THIRTY-EIGHT