The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1930-07-01
THE GIRL ABOUT TOWN
BY NIARHYN.

The Country Club was heavenly
Sunday night. All day it had been
much too hot for golf or tents ex-
cept for those with a terrific inner
urge like Marjorie KinnairG, and by
evening everybody was strewn
Imply about the terrace or lolling
indolently in the porch swings on
the veranda.
AS the orange sun sank into the
swimming pool a gentle breeze
sprang up and dainty wrath Of a
moon slipped from behind piles OF
fleecy clouds and the world got on
speaking terms with itself again.
We had dinner on the screened
porch and chatted lazily with Mr..
and Mrs. Earl Barnes. Mrs. Barnes
was absolutely parboiled from play
ing too concentrated golf game in
the hot sun. In spite of her charm
ing blue crepe frock and her sunny
smile, her color scheme, usually
anpeccable, was definitely inter-
rupted by the scorching red of her
shoulders and arms.
Mr.. and Mrs. Wayne Kinnaird
were at the table next to our and
we got into a heavy discussion OF
James Joyce and Gertrude Stein
and is it art? But the weather got
us down. The idea was swell and
we started out bravely, but you
can't keep that pitch up for more
than fifteen minutes at a time. Be-
cause, after all, with the mercury
flirting indelicately around 80 de-
grees, who cares deeply?
Johnny Kinghan was out with his
family and lots of the dear young
things were in evidence. I mean lots
what with the prevalent shorts and
no socks and backs cut down to
the waistline. But it was too hot
for things to be going on in a big
way, so once the lobster salad was
put away, we bethought ourselves
of Phoebe Craig and her sedate lit
tie house on Forty-Second street
and in we trekked for good YAM
mer.
Ted was there and we had just
settled down for a good evenings
chat when a couple of crash-bangS
on the front porch announced the
energetic arrival of 6, herd Of young
buffalo at least-which turned out
to be none other Mr.. and Mrs.
George P. Denny.
4
From then on the evening waXed
intense. They had just been visit
ing Mrs. Denny's mother, Mrs. Ern-
est Knefer, at her summer home
in Northport, Mich, where they had
met an interesting Englishman who
had been big lion and tiger man
in British East Africa. While he
was hunting big game he contracted
a strange tropical fever which laid
him low every fifth day. In the
interim he was apparently quite
normal and very entertaining.
From big game hunting in Africa
the conversation ranged through
early Christian mysticism, the
Mcclellan theory, the short story of
Anatole France, to the mysterious
destruction of the excavators of
King Tut's tomb, which was fol-
lowed toward midnight by a discus
sion of the ACCESSIBILITY of going
home, but decision was deferred in
definitely.
IT'S always thus Wherever Mary
Lois Denny is, Gilbert assures me
always lots of good talk. She has
a nice profile, quite distingue, or
words to that effect, and a large,
intelligent nose and a perfectly
grand curiosity.
Il u
The only other person I know
who has the same passion for good
conversation that I have is Mar
garet Anderson. And if you haven't
read her my Thirty Years War"
vet. drop everything, nv dear, do!