Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1933-11-21

WdS, IL WAS
hotter than Spring day in Marrakesh
long before we entered the sandy
wastes at the foot of snow-crowned
San Jacinto and the Santyana was
blowing my hair into warm disarray
long before the high white spire of FL
Mirador with its turquoise tile minaret
rose out of the infinite sandy stretch.
AS we turned onto the floor of the
desert a Ioar of motor and a flash of
black and white alongside told me that
Lillian Harvey in her most amazing of
all cars was hitting for the radium-
laden air of the Palm Spring country
at about so miles an hour.
We turned into FL Mirador between
cacti higher than telephone poles. And
we came upon an mforgettable scene
in view of the fact that fog and cold
was but three hours behind us. At
PENDANTS in white linen everywhere
men lounging in sun Memberships in
white shorts pedaling bicycles gayly
along the fiat roads. One of these
girls waved gayly and the Sealyham
trotting desperately at her wheels
woofed a salute: Ruth Chatterton
riding to the village in the niftiest pair
OF shorts a gal ever wore
There was parked the famous white
car with its great silver exhaust pipes
and there in the lobby, surrounded by
the most amazing white hide luggage
clamped in silver. was Lillian Harvey
her delicate beauty emphasized by the
aviator's cap of white kid she always
wears when annihilating time and dis
lance.
Of with your clothes and out to the
pooH That's the universal rule of the
desert. Within 10 minutes the new
arrivals. in shorts G.. bathing suits, are
lounging about the great pool in the
hot sunlight like SO many gay lizards.
Come along to the pool! The girl
to the right of me, whose black curls
lie against her head in such precise
rows, is Oracle Allen, whose yellow sun
suit brings out the pale beauty of her
skin sun-browned her hair brushed back
hair. The funny guy in the beret and
outlandish bathrobe is Burns-the I'M
funny member of the troupe, if you
remember. Here their positions are
completely reversed. You'd swear he
was the comic and she the straight
Life is like that.
Parting ones way through flock OF
Marx Bros. we come upon lovely girl
in white linen frock with bows on the
shoulders, her white angora socks en-
phasizing the bronze satin of her slim
legs-Martha Sleeper, movie beauty
very young and naive in her desert
makeup, her face unpowdered, her
skin sun-burned, her hair brushed back
simply from her brow and caught with
a white bandeau.
Clarence Brown and the lovely Alice
Joyce (now Mrs Clarence Brown drop
in from the skies. literally, at the hotel
flying field. Once the greatest movie
beauty of her day, Alice Joyce now
lets the gray come in her soft wavy
hair; she wears glasses with bone rimA
when reading, her figure is as slim anC
straight as any ingenue's and her skin
as gardenia white and fiawless. But
she has slipped gracefully into joyful
retirement with the famous director
and aviation is her favorite pastime
now.
Two yellow dots against the waters
sharp blue. Two giant chrysanthe-
NUNS, no doubt dropped down by some
careless person. But they resolve
themselves into Constance Bennett and
her small son, Peter, summing them
selves at the inn.
Ken Maynardis motor roars overhead
as the famous cowboy star makes ready
for happy landing on the fiat sandy
stretches. The musical ping of tennis