The Washington times., 1938-06-22

Biff, and would carry imposing
looking scores. She went to all
the concerts in Carnegie and
often broke a date with Biff to
hear Wagner at the Metropoli-
tan. You see, her passion for
highbrow music was as strong
as Biff's for guIbucket.
Subconsciously, Biff began to
resent what he felt was her
"uppity" attitude toward his
world and its values. More and
more, she would sneer at the
things that evoked enthusiasm
in his mind.
He wanted to show her Ltndy's
restaurant. She went along
with her nose in the air. The
famed Broadway eatery was
jammed with so-called celebrities
and Tin Pan Alley satellites.
Abe Lyman, at front table.
was gagging with some song
pluggers. Sam Lewis and Edgar
Leslie, writer's Of dozens Of song
hits, were slipping tea in a cor
ner booth. Walter Winchell was
there, with some outstanding
Hollywood producers and direc-
tors. Tony Canzoneri, boxing
immortal, was having scrambled
eggs with some of his cronieS.
HARRIET UNIMPRESSED
Biff didn't know them all, but
he did the best he could as a
guide. Harriet ordered some
figs, while Biff took coffee and
cheese cake.
Its terrif here" he said, en-
Unused, in the Broadwayese ter
minology that was already be.
coming second-nature to him.
You meet everybody who is
anybody. Three hours later,
you'll find 'em at Dawes Blue
Room and at dawn they'll show
at Reuben's. Strictly a follow
the-leader proposition"
Harriet seemed considerably
less impressed than Biff ex.
pected. Her general demeanor
implied, $50 what?"
A youthful ba1dhead passed
their table. Hi, Biff!" he
greeted. "see you at the Onyx
later?"
"You know who that ISL"
gasped Biff. That's Ted Hus-
ing, the sports announcer. He's
nuts about swing. Comes to
hear mel mean the band
every night"
NOW BIFF'S BORED
The Sunday after, Harriet In
vited Biff to take her to Town
Hall. One of her friends, a
pianist, was giving his first re
cital. Outside Of a Bach fugue.
whose intricate structure Of
melodic variations intrigued
his attention. Biff was bored;
the Chopin preludes, the Lizst
rhapsodies, the Beethoven soma
tas annoyed him.
Lets beat 1t before thess
long-hairs freak my noodle,
he said.
"Oh stop talking like that
Biff," she said. you're not al
smart as you think you are!"
For the people in the lobby
with their lorgnettes, their pipes
their cigarette holders, their
hushed English-accented com
ments, Biff had nothing but con
tempt.
"They act," he said, in g
louder voice than Town Hall was
used to, like they're hep to it
but, take it from me. Harriet
they're q bunch Of phonies
They don't know what live mu
sic is"
THE TRIAL PARTY
II suppose your Mr.. Dorsey
knows" she shifted.
After the concert, q trial In
deed for Biff, they went to the
apartment Of another acquaint
ance Of Harriet, one Geraldine
Masters, who was giving a party
in honor of that Town Hall pia
mist.
It was a low-ceiling, modern'
affair off West Fifty-seventl
Street. full of uncomfortable
metal furniture, Piccasos, Ma
tisses and, at the moment, of a
representative a gathering o
longhairs as 1t had ever beel
Biff's displeasure to view frs
hand.
Biff was introduced to every
one as "Mr. Brown" He fel
lost in the murmur Of converse
tion that concerned matters be
yond his ken. The guests, sir
ping gariShly colored cocktails
he surveyed with nothing les
than disgust. Harriet had lef
him sitting in an overstuffeI
square modernique chair whil
she went to congratulate tn
guest of honor.
Before she returned a liquic
like young fellow in tails, VIII
fondly twisted a waXed mW
tache, approached Biff and pr'
Sented himself with q Sigh
bow. MY name Is Delmer To-
renee" he announced. "Harrie