The Washington times., 1936-03-25


table. She hovers near us and trie.
not to appear too interested in the
conversation which centers about
Broadway in the main. Finally
one Of our party remarks casually
did you know that girl once
worked in some show on Broad
way?". We call her over. We
question her. It is true. The little
girl who has been pouring our cof
fee Is Kay SimmS, for several sea
sons one of the pretties in Ear
Carroll's Vanities. Eagerly, she
rattleS off names Of girls who had
appeared with her. Berry, Wal
lace, Henriette Kay (now Mrs, Nat
Karson), Kay Carroll (poor child
long in the ground) Marion Mar
tin, RoSalie FrinSon, and many
others. Kay had wandered out to
California; and here she is, a
former Vanities beauty, now a
waitress at a ranch in the desert
A homesick little girl who'd rather
listen to the mournful dirge Of the
saxophone than the mournful
lament Of the cowboys.
Alan Jones and Irene Hervey
sit at the next table. The
Hervey gal adjusts a napkin
around the neck Of a cute
yOungSter while Jones beams.
It is her daughter by . former
marriage-and Alan, according
to reports, is to be her next
daddy. A handsome young gent
enters the mess hall-a typical
cowboy. DenimS over high
heeled short bots, lurid cOIOred
shirt, rainbOw-hued bandana,
sOmbrerO-each return to this
ranch finds Playwright Sidney
Kingsley going completely ma
tive. Another cowboy is Mack
Kriendler Of Twenty One, with
his pretty bride, U.Ota, in shorts,
adding q tender touch. Cy Bart
lett has GeOfrey Bernard, Brit
ish GaumOnt executive who has
remained over to attend the pre-
view o. Rhodes in Hollywood
next Friday before returning to
England. Benay Venuta'S groom,
DR.. Kenneth Kelly, who de-
serted this ranch to fly back to
New York; Playwright Elmer.
Harris, Director Leo McCarey,
Dance Director Danny Dare,
PubliciSt Mack Millar, two
former FOIlies beauties, Vera
King and COlette Bertram, the
new English film import, Wini-
fred Shooter these are q few
among the guests assembled
. here to whom Charlie Bender
is playing host. 1t has been
drear and chilly OutdOOrS-but
inside, the days and the nights
have been gay.
Jake Larue, practically naked,
drives in with the British beauty,
Connie Simpson, to take us over
to Samuel Untermyer's impressive
desert estate in Palm Springs.
Built on rising terraced grounds
with San Jack as a permanent,
irremovable back-fence you survey
brooks and tropical plants, bow
cred retreats and formal land
scaped sectors before entering a
rambling house. Here, Mollie
McAdoo is hostess this afternoon
as a few of us foregather and have
our fortunes told by a brighteyed
woman who, if she is to be believed,
sees one reporter destined for ad-
venturous activities within the
year. But. Of course, she needn't
be believed.
An Darling halts US near the
Desert lima worried haraSSed
young beauty. Her husband,
Artie Stebbins, is desperately
lila complication of ailments.
A Iow-hung open roadster speeds
by-but mot fast enuf. We wan.
der over to the palatial home Of
AL Wertheimer" proprietor Of
the famous DuneS-and find
him in his huge barrOOm with
several friends, including Harry
COhn, president of Columbia
Pictures. AL has his ear glued
to a phOne-getting the results
of the third at TanfOran. Not
n winner, it Is evident, from the
expression on his usually i'm
perturbable face.
It is a dull afternoon at the
Racquet Club-but George Ban
croft is there-elated because q
new deal has just been conSun-
mated, dsetining him for the i'm
portant role of the banker in Lost
Horizon" There is little activity
on the courts-for the relentless
wind sweeps everything before it.
Charlie Butterworth wanderS in,
dead-panned as usual, looks around
and wan0erS out. Larue has re-
appeared in a daShing ensemble.
'Iike this? Not too loud, is it?"
He talks on. I'm really a
happy guy. I got no kick COM
ing. A few years ago was tickled
to be earning my 40, so bucks a
week in New York. Now I got me
q nice home-I brought my folks
on-I bought a house for my sis
ter and her three kids-swell
kids-I got all of them around
me-I got a swell girl-last year
I worked more than any free-lance
or contract player in Hollywood
46 weeks. I've got no kick-and
If it keeps up this way I'm salts
fled, take it from me-. One per-
son, at least-and it's a pleasant
relief-who is quite content with
his good fortune. Everyone else