The Washington times., 1934-11-01

NErc He Helen Essary
said and pronounced our names
distinctly. l felt tremendously
important, and whispered to
the gentleman to whom I am
married:
MY dear! He knows our
names! Imagine!"
Later we discussed this
matter. Or 1 discussed 1t.
Extraordinary - this English
efficiency! A footman, a beau.
tiful footman in crimson satin
and gold, knowing the names
of guests he'd never seen be-
fore! Incredible!
This week I saw Him again.
Again 1 didn't recognize Him.
Not at first, anyhow. This
time He was in the gorgeous
livery of the Turkish Embassy.
(No fez, but quantities OF gold
braid and color)
His voice sounded familiar,
but since I wasn't expecting to
meet an old friend at that
moment I paid him no mind"
Some time afterWard from
across the hall I glanced at
Him. Saw the hesitating smile.
Recognized Him. 1t was
Ridgewell-the village caterer.
And then the whole pattern,
the colorful pattern Of Ridge
wells professional life came to
mind. At almost every formal
party is Ridgewell. Sometimes
disguised as a British upper
footman. Sometimes a Turkish
minion. A French waiter. A
Polish doorman. Again and
again as a butler in a Big
House in the special livery OF
the establishment.
But always a private philos-
opher, A person to lean upon.
And assuredly a man who
knows his Betters, better than
they know him.
Mary Heaton Worse, who
writes brilliant novels and sym.
pathetic magazine articles about
the men and women who work
in the mills and factories, de-
clared at luncheon the other
day that she simply couldn't
make a speech.
Last summer she was told
two months ahead of time that
she had to talk on a given sub
ject. She wondered and Won
dered what she was going to
say. Sixty days went by.
On the morning of the
Speechmaking night she sat her
self down at her typewriter
and wondered and wondered
some more. Finally she made
herself write something. At the
end of two hours-so she said
she looked hopefully at the
page where the typewriting
should be. And there she read:
"Mary HeatOn Worse,
October H."
Mrs. Worse, who is a delightful
person, told of the struggles Of
a friend. also a writer, who
loathes to begin any story or
article. BY way of whipping
herself into the fine frenzy Of
composition she goes to her type
writer and writes, over and over
again, these words:
II hate writing. / hate writ
ing. / hate writing"
The sufferings of authors are
always intense. Pendleton Ho-
gan, the young Washington au-
thor one meets every SO often,
if one is lucky Che has written
"The Bishop of Havana" and
Ozark Comes Early'D, has a job
by day and works on his books
by night. And has to have his
new dress suit fitted at lunch
time. There's no other spare
moment.
Query: Who ever heard of a
young author having a dress
suit? And if this author writes
at nights, as he says he does.
when will he have time to
wear it?
Ans: - Pendleton Hogan is
handsome and charming. He
probably makes "late dates" like
the college boys do.
Continuing on the subject Of
authors, Adelbert Clark of the
Washington Bureau of the New
York Times has remarkable
friend in and out Of Washing
ton, DR.. Edward Barrows, who
is now engaged in writing Un-
der contract at the same tlme-
three books.
Their diversified subjects are:
"a Life of Commodore Perry
the man who broke down Japa'
nese isolation and made the
Japanese like it; something alb
Struse on the Economics of
Milk; and a very learned VOL
ume on Municipal Govern
ment."
DR.. Barrows was an ;nStruc-
tor of English at Ohio State
University and a newspaper ran
of wide experience. Mrs. Bar.
rows, who does her husband S
typewriting, is a bacteri0logist.
There's a family!