The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1934-09-01

ing bright
bits for this &
column. '.~>>>>7
YeSter day Helen Essary
the pursuit of bright bits led
to Bethany Beach, up the way
is miles or so, where Gen.
and Mrs. Hugh S. Johnson
have a cottage. I wanted to
see how the General looked
in bathing suit.
Bethany has a beautiful
beach. walked optimistically
along the shore beyond the
scrap of boardwalk toward the
very last house-the w. w.
Bride cottage where the Gen.
eral sometimes turks. Just
ahead was a group in Stacks
and bathing suits, shooting at
Q target.
Alas! the General was not in
the group.
A few hundred feet away
was a bulky figure squatting on
the sand. Alphabetically, the
figure resembled General john
son. And it was seated in the
center of an admiring circle
and was wearing a beach robe
of orange striped with green.
Undoubtedly, the General dis
guised in a gaudy toga as
Nero.
Another disappointment. The
Romanesque figure was a very
fat lady, not the big Blue
Eagle!
In front of the Generals cot
tage were three chairs-a big
one, a middle sized one and a
little one-all quite empty.
Here the stage was surely set
for the entrance of the Biggest
Bear. I waited for a while. No
one came. Reluctantly and
very sad at my failure (not only
had I not seen the General in
a bathing suit had not seen
him at alb I decided to go
home.
Driving along the new road
that follows the sea from Beth
any to Rehoboth, I kept seeing
further mirages. The road,
when quite dry, looks very wet.
This illusion is a result of some
trick of sky and sand and ocean
and sun. Yet-General john
sons retreat didn't seem the
best neighborhood for mirages.
It wasn't sound somehow.
Over the cocktails that fol-
low the afternoon swim at Re
hoboth we're told several sea-
shore anecdotes of the benevo-
lent dictator. To wit:
The General sleeps very, very
Soundly. He always keeps NRA
hours. This is the belief of two
Rehoboth matrons who drove
by his cottage the other night
after dinner-merely sightsee-
ing.
They got stuck in the sand
Just outside the Generals bed
room window. Not only were
they stuck in the sand, but
fastened somehow on piling.
For hours and hours they
struggled to get loose.
General Johnson's window
was quite unaffected by their
anguish. Not once did the Gen
erals head appear. Not once
did a powerful figure emerge
from the door to help the
stranded women.
Poor things, they scuttled
around between the piling and
the sand until almost midnight.
At last. quite unaided, they
pulled themselves out of their
own depression. OF course, the
difficulty may have served
them jolly we'll right. But they
hadn't an idea until then that
the NRA was so conscientious
about its own working hours.
Another bit of General John
son news. which probably won't
please him greatly. A mother
Of daughters at Bethany
Swears that the beach is really
more interested in the hand.
some aviator who flies the Gen.
eral down from Washington
ever so often than in the Gen.
eral. When the aviator brings
his plane low over the Gen.
erals cottage as a signal to
his family, the young feminine
population of Bethany rushes
up the sand to the landing
field in order to be there to
receive the aviator and the
General. They try on the avia-
tors helmet, regard his manly
profile and practically over
look the General. OF course,
one can't have everything.
The General undoubtedly has
discovered the truth of this.
That's practically all the news
about the General, except that
he takes his two dogs in bathing
in the ocean early every morn.
ing.