The Waterbury Democrat., 1936-11-09

UAOAA Q S&pAVoA AS 6Ov"AAA6 NS" '" which, year in and year out
 Congress may debate the prob- lem of peace or war, diplomats may negotiate treaties, the presi- dent may denounce the Supreme Court, but all that matters to one section of Washington is the goings and cofnines, the cocktail parties and the arnours of the petty people who hold the social spotlight of the capital of these United States. .s
 And no matter how many tears they may shed over high taxes, or how bitterly they may curse the president, 1t Is incontestable that the New Deal has saved their dinner parties and their lives.
 The New Deal may have kept thousands from starving, put homeless youngsters In CCC camps, preserved forests, pre- vented floods, started social secur- ity, but--as the piece de resistance it has restored Washington society to all the pomposity of it's pre-war preening.
 Rundown Society
 There was a day, during the height of MT. Eoover's adininis- tration, when Washington society was very much run down at the heel. Coupons could not be clipped. Dividends were not being de- clared. People had to scrape along with Q butler and only one foot man--which was tough.
 FOR A TIME THE ONLY BIG PARTIES IN WASHINGTON WERE GIVEN BY THE EN- BASSIES. THEY ALONE HAD BOTH THE CHAMPAGNE AND THE CASH.
 Big, blonde Juliette Letter, whose husband once came near cornering the wheat market of the world, and who has cracked the whip over Washington society : for three decades, actually closed her house and had to give up part of her country place to the gov- ernment in lieu of taxes.
 Mrs. Laura Curtis, patron saint of those who play for g thousand dollar limit, turned her beautiful colonial house into a night club, while Alice Roosevelt Longwortt, "Queen Alice" to Washington so- ciety for years, hung out 8 For Sale" sign on her brick mansion on Massachusetts avenue.
 BUT THE NEW DEAL HAS NOW CHANGED ALL THAT. Carpet. .Baggers
 Its first flllip to social Washing ton came with the "carpet-bag" era. "Carpet-baggers" was the name applied to the horde of democratic lobbyists which swooped down on the capital.
 They were green and gauche, but they had money and--what was more important--the ear of the White House. So high society, which lacked both, welcomed them to It's bosom.
 There was ARTHUR MULLEN, democratic committeeman from Nebraska, who got big fees and gave bigger banquets, at one of which Q guest, waving toward the liveried footmen, remarked:, 'What will the folks back In Nebraska say to this, Arthur"
 Then there was BOB yACK- SON, of New Hampshire, secre- tary of the democratic national committee, who rented Mrs. Fahnstock's famous pink palace on Massachusetts avenue, mar. ried his daughter to the uncle of Mrs. Roosevelt, and gave fabulous parties in the manner if not the quality of the Vanderbilts.
 There was BRUCE KREMER, democratic committeeman from Montana, who helped Attorney General Cummings reorganize his justice department, and profiited handsomely by representing large companies.
 And there was GEORGE MAR SHALL, former tap-dancer and vaudeville manager, now laundry king of Washington, who, with more humor than the others, sent out Christmas cards showing himself sealing the social ladder with Q laundry bag over his shoulder.
 Bizarre Fillip
 The fillip they gave to Wash- ington society was bizarre, though welcome. But their heyday is gone. No longer do their parties stand out as the only ones where champagne is limitless.
 For coupons are being clipped again. The New Deal not only has brought back dividends, but 1t has rented some of the most famous palaces in the capital.
 Among these are the JAMES c. BLAINE mansion, the WALSH palace built by the famous gold miner of Cripple Creek days, and the MCLEAN mansion, once owned by Ned Mclean, his son. in-law.
 There was . day when two bands imported from New York jasxed alternately at opposite ends of the Mclean ballroom, when several hundred bottles of champagne were opened in an evening, and when the select of
 social Washington uncertainty
 danced the New Year into dawn.
 Now, as many typewriters as