The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1936-01-27
NOW
Caesar Buried,
Not Praised
IT'S AIS NIGHT
par, Blond RObber InvadeS Northwest Homes
By HELEN ESSARY

never anywhere since the Gays
Of Billy Sundays Sawdust trail to
the Big Tent were so many people
in such happy and virtuouS &C
cord.
Millions of dollars worth Of
du Ports laughed and nudged each
other openly. Pretty ladies
clapped their red tipped fingers
until their diamond bracelets shed
rainbows of color.
Defeated candidates for the
presidency and other places held
their white heads high, and, for
the first time in years. laughed
out loud at a public meeting.
Little Jokes and big jokes
cracked through the smoky air
Of the dining room. Before an
epigram favored with a New York
tang was half uttered, the crowd
seated at the feet of the Liberty
League would begin to laugh and
cheer.
Never were people so obviously
pleased.
Really the evening was-too,
too divine!
Because - Marcus AntoniuS
Smith had come to bury Caesar,
not to praise him.
The burying was done with the
Big Stick of the Constitution. The
planks of the 1882 Democratic
platform were Caesars tomb.
Marcus Antonius Smith wanted
to begin the burying quite two
hours before the time set for the
radio hook-up. He sat on the
edge of his chair on the dais
where the Lions of the evening
began smiling out over mock tur-
tie soup and a centerpiece Of
daffodtls and heather as early as
Z o'clock.
He, Marcus AntoniuS, fingered
nervously the stack of envelopes
on which were written notes for
the funeral grafton.
He smoked so fast that the tip
Of his long black cigar Spurted
like a small volcano.
Once something happened to
the electric plug that soon was
to connect the microphone with
expectant millions. Marcus An
tonius Smith went down under
the table to repair the trouble.
Thereupon Mr.. Jouett shouse
took the orator Of the evening by
the arm, quite firmly, and pulled
him UP on his chair again.
Seated him so that the pink
candy roses of a cake basket
framed his face. And there Mar
Gus Antonius was revealed as
former governor, Alfred E. Smith,
with a very chic white tie under
his smooth pink chin.
Another time the microphone,
being in the path of the impas-
stoned humor of Prof. Neal Ca
rotherS, wobbled. The governor
settled the microphone into its
place in an empty cake basket.
Mrs. Pauline Sabin helped him
steady it. She also blew out the
red, white and blue candles. The
Mrs. Pauline Sabin who not so
long ago at another speakers
table had begged for the repeal
of prohibition and now tonight
pushed her full wine glasses back
untouchet. and, glittering in white
seouins, graced the cause OF the
Liberty League. '.'.
All of Saturdays banquet guests
were extremely ornamental.
There wasn't a drudge in the
27OO except the newspaper men
who sat in the gallery tearing off
hundreds of descriptive words
and the photographers who made
pictures of AL and the Head
TABLE over the shoulder of Mrs.
John w. Davis, looking very
nice herself in black and white
lame.
The long aristocratic hands Of
Mr.. Davis lay idly on the table
as Mr.. Smith got to some stun
ming periods. The narrow white
fingers of former Senator David
A. Reed strummed thoughtfully
on the table as Mr.. Smith, in the
closing sentences of his speech,
waved the Star Spangled Banner
in the manner of George Conan
in his best days.
The menu of the $5O-a-plate
Jackson Day dinner was better
than the $5-a-plate Liberty League
dinner. as it should have been.
OF course, Mr.. Smiths speech, not
the food, was the piece de resist
ance of the joyous evening. The
other orators and the filet mig
non could have been done with
out: Actually there was too mucn
oratory for the price of admission,
The daughter of T. r. applauded
happily the remarks of the man
she had tried to defeat not too
long ago.