Monday, Nov. 12, 1951

Sideline Skills

The London nightclub set headed for the Cafe de Paris and a rare evening: Playwright Noel Coward was making his debut as a cabaret entertainer. Among those present: Princess Margaret, with a party including Prince Nicholas of Yugoslavia and Lucian Freud, grandson of the psychoanalyst (see MILESTONES). At another table sat the Duchess of Kent with Prince and Princess George of Greece. For 45 minutes the royal and common customers listened to the ratchety-voiced Coward sing a medley of his own songs, caper through his witticisms, and taper off with a blend of sentimental and naughty ballads. The customers considered their money well spent; so did the club, which offered to extend their new star's contract (four weeks at -L-1,000aweek) indefinitely.

In Portland, Ore. for a concert with the local symphony, Helen Traubel explained why she had dropped Onetime Pupil Margaret Truman. Said she: "I stopped teaching her because I didn't think she was ready for all those appearances. The offers just kept coming in. I even went down to Washington to see her daddy. I told him I couldn't go on if she accepted the offers. It's too bad. Most young singers just don't realize how much they have to study. The funny thing is, she really has a nice voice--nothing great--but good enough for a career. And she wants so much to sing."

In Manhattan, another facet of Margaret Truman's career got a higher rating. As guest artist and straight woman on the Jimmy Durante show, she surprised and pleased both the public and the Schnoz himself, who rasped: "We'll call the act Truman, Jackson and Durante--we'll moider 'em."

On Halloween night in Omaha, Neb., Blackstone the Magician marked the 25th anniversary of the death of his friend, Harry Houdini. In the ritual of the annual seance, he spread a deck of cards, held a small padlock and called to the spirit world: "All right, Harry, if you're around, let us know." Harry's job was to unsnap the padlock and make the queen of clubs dance from the deck. After waiting a minute and a half, Blackstone gave up, to try again another year. At another party in Manhattan, Mentalist Dunninger also waited in vain. All he wanted was a message in Morse code from Harry.

On the brink of his 83rd birthday, photographers in Uvalde, Texas got a harvest picture of John Nance Garner that looked for all the world like Old Brown, the late great Beatrix Potter's grouchy owl.* Unlike Old Brown, however, who allowed brash Squirrel Nutkin and his cousins to gather his crop of nuts, the former Vice President was busy doing it himself. From the trees in his backyard, he said, "I hull two bushels of pecans a day, shell about six to eight pounds a day, and sell them for a dollar a pound."

Second Thoughts

In Paris, former Belgian Premier Paul-Henri Spaak, now chairman of the Council of Europe, suggested to a diplomatic press luncheon that U.S. efforts to aid Europe might be evaluated in a new light: "If I had to persuade my constituents to pay 10% more taxes for aid to America, and tell them that Belgian conscripts should serve in Arkansas, I am fairly certain I should not be re-elected."

A reporter for the New Orleans Item who caught visiting Novelist William Faulkner in an expansive mood asked the Nobel Prize winner how he would like to re-live his life. Said Faulkner: "Why, youngster, I reckon I'd be a woman or a tramp. They don't have to work so hard. Or maybe a rich orphan, with a trust company instead of kinfolks." However, in his present existence he admitted that work was hard to dodge. "What else are you going to do? You can't drink eight hours a day. Or make love. Work's about the only thing a fellow has to do to keep from being bored." Furthermore, Faulkner added, "I ain't a writer. Why, I don't even know any writers. I don't pay no attention to publishers, either. They write me a letter--if it don't have a royalty check in it, I throw it away."

During the jubilee celebration of the Royal Aero Club in London, Lord Brabazon, holder of the first pilot's license ever issued in Britain, gave a television audience his latter-day judgment of air transportation. Said he: "Ballooning is the only way for a gentleman to travel. No noise, no drafts, and you don't know where you're going. What could be better than that?"

One of cinema's tough men decided it was time to deny that he was having a quarrel with his producer, and bought advertising space in a Hollywood trade paper to say so: "There has been a lot of talk, caused by irresponsible persons, to the effect that Sam Spiegel and I are feuding. This is not true. I love Sam Spiegel . . . Sincerely, Humphrey Bogart."

The Massachusetts Bar Association, which admitted him as a young Harvard graduate in 1930, asked that Alger Hiss, now serving a five-year sentence for perjury, be disbarred. After a nine-minute hearing, with no defense, the state supreme court agreed, following a similar decision last year by New York State.

When nominations closed in the triennial election to fill the honorary post of Rector of Edinburgh University, officials faced a diplomatic poser. Along with such acceptable candidates as the Ago Khan, Sir Alexander Fleming and Evelyn Waugh, some fun-loving students had entered the name of Iran's Britain-baiting Premier Mossadegh. Fortunately, the rules provided an easy way out. Candidates are required to accept their nominations in writing; Mossadegh had merely cabled his acceptance.

Collectors' Items

Manhattan's exclusive Lotus Club, which specializes in giving formal dinners for men of distinction, honored a woman flyer of distinction: Jacqueline Cochran, the first aviatrix to appear as a guest since Amelia Earhart in 1935. After fellow flyer General James H. Doolittle outlined some of her accomplishments (five world air speed records, the 1950 Harmon International Air Trophy, wartime head of WASP, flying with the French, Spanish, Chinese and Turkish air forces), Guest of Honor Cochran "just got all choked up" and replied: "I didn't realize myself I had made so many records."

After a fruitless search through France, Italy and England, Cinemactress Jane Russell, who adopted a baby girl in California this year and would like to add an imported youngster to her family, arrived in Germany for a tour of the Frankfurt orphanages. When requirements proved too stiff (a year's residence in Germany before taking the child out of the country), she started shopping for two other items, an old-fashioned German-language Bible and some Army post-exchange perfume. But the whole trip turned out a failure. The PX was closed, and there were no Bibles answering her specifications for sale.

Manhattan's Museum of Modern Art announced a "notable" acquisition. Singing Cowboy Gene Autry in person presented an example of his art: a print of Mule Train for the film library.

Mrs. Eva Wakefield, granddaughter of Robert G. Ingersoll, the famed 19th Century agnostic, told police that a Manhattan gypsy had temporarily converted her into believing the old handkerchief trick: that money tied in a handkerchief would double itself. She had lost faith, however, and wanted the cops to try to recover her $18,507 offering.

Gloria Vanderbilt Stokowski, wife of the symphony conductor, postponed her suit against the Government in which she is trying to collect $12,285 in overpaid taxes. Her reason: she expects her second baby in January.

* Old Brown

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