Evening star., 1925-05-30
Queen Marie to Write of Life
As ''M0ther-in-La,v'' of Balkans
articles of Rum, anian
Ruler Viii Appear
in Euening Star.
Finds Time, Despite Her
Pressing Duties, to
Describe Conditions.
BY ZOE BECkLEY.

The whole undertaking came up in
a curious way.
My editor ruffed up his hair one day
and asked, Cant you think of some
body in Europe who'd be good copy?"
Well" said I, having been taught
to offer some suggestion, however
wild when an editor demands one,
there's Queen Marie. She's beauti-
full and brilliant and the 'motherin.
law of the Balkans. and"
Look here the hair rumpling
got worse than ever, Just exactly who
is Queen Marie? 1 know she's beauti-
full and Observation-Disclosures of
Rumania-er-does she speak Eng
lish?'
she is English"
"Oh. of courSe-er-"
English and Russian. Her father
was Queen NiCtoria's second son, AL
fred, Duke of Edinburgh. Her moth
er, the Grand Duchess Marie, only
daughter of Emperor Alexander III of
Russia, who was blown to pieces by a
nihilist's bomb. OF course she speaks
English and German and French and
Russian and-and everything" | fin
ished confidently.
The editor pondered.
She writes, too" l offered.
The editor sat up.
Go get her." said he, and started
for the golf links.
Mission Causes Panic.
/ felt dazed. l knew what he in
couldn't do it. Royal persons do not
write just because you ask them to.
Royalty does nobody's bidding, not
even a newspaper editors. l felt very
queer, indeed.
When l found myself on the Maure-
tania, eastward bound l felt even
worse. | had a panic. What wild
goose chase was / embarked on, any
how? What chance had l of winning
the confidence of Queen Marie of
Rumania? OF persuading her to
write for us? Here was l. spending
some one else's money, with nothing
but a shoestring of imagination and a
shred of hope to so upon. Crazy,
Arrived at Bucharest. | felt better.
The hotel was unexpectedly civilized.
with a brass bed. red wall paper and
a telephone. The pea SAINTS wore sheep
skin mantles and tall fur hats. The
intelligensia. in Paris clothes, were
chic and sophisticated. The city has
an air half Oriental, half European.
The people, too.
! was eager to see their Queen.
Eager and curious, but not. as you
might say, ''impresse.' l wasn't feel
ing sentimental about it or ready to
be awed. Your average American is
curious about queens and kings, but
doesn't quite see the need of them.
doesn't take them too seriously. To
an old-hand newspaper person a queen
is copy" rather than royal by divine
right.
] hoped | would not slip up on the
palace floor. or greet her majesty too
Broadwayishly, or otherwise deport
myself offenSively l hoped her mai
esty would be tolerant and that I
would get story" And that is
all | hoped.
Gets" Queen at Once.
There are some persons you get
the moment You set eyes upon them.
1t is like a flash back of memory from
some former life. 1t is probable that
the person belongs to a distinct type
the type you like and which you rec
ogniZe instantly.
Here, / knew, was more than a
queen. A personality. A worker. A
doer of things. A queen with job, a
queen who was useful and who had
learned life by not only seeing the
sorrows and disappointments of others,
but by knowing many, many of her
own.
Something in her look, her voice,
her simple black frock with it's white
collar and camellia pinned at the
shoulder. her wise and wide blue eyes,
her flashing smile and energetic
movement, said stories" There are
stories in her face-a beautiful face.
In her jealous manner, her vibra mt
body with its maternal lines.
There are stories because there is
character.
A firm hand reached out 20 me- and
at one bound / was friends with Queen
Marie.
She was hurrying to consult with