Imperial Valley press., 1938-03-10
LLday is something


vehicle for years That was while
she was getting used to her ath-
loving Douglas Fairbanks. /
remember talking to her in top
suite of the Sherry Netherlands, on
Fifth avenue. She was in the
throes of trying to decide upon a
vehicle. am under the impression
that Old Man Butler never did
drive up.
I spent an hour with another
distraught artistic in her dressing
room the other evening. The ache
was due to that old bugbear, lack
of vehicle. The Worrier is Sally
Rand, pretty, serious-taced. low
Vocied Arkansas girl. I was accom-
panied by her cousin and friend.
Glare Ogden Davis, of Texas, an
old friend of our family. 1t was
perfectly all right for me to be
there in Sally's dressing room. 1
have known Sally for several years.
It's true that she's misunderstood,
though I know most readers won't
believe me. She acts now like a
girl who's headed for a nervous
breakdown unless she can change
tempo. She wants to get into play
on Broadway, and she can't find
the play. She was reading her
l26th manuscript in six months
when we entered.
This was at the Casa Manana,
where Billy Rose is showing a
good hunk of the Texas Centennial
and flock of dancing niftieS. Sal
ly does her bubble dance there.
her fame is associated with nudi-
W, because of the publicity stunt
perpetrated at the Chicago Exposi-
ton. She wants to get away from
nudity and be a real actress. But
cruel old Sam Harris tells her,
Nov you go on and play with
your bubbles, and let us go on los
ing money on plays Sally makes
plenty of money with her bubbles
and fans, but yearns for stage sue
cess. She knows that kind of
dancing leads nowhere. Well,
there's Evelyn Nesbit to remember
about.
OF course, Miss Rand takes good
care of her mother sends brothers
to school, pay off the mortgages
in Arkansas, and supports an
orange grove in California in all
weathers. Strangely enough, the
clothes she makes her living taking
off cost her small fortune. She is
always demurely and becomingly
dressed-when she's dressed. And
she assures me that the shoulders
this season must be boxed and the
skirts shorter. She demonstrated
the squaring of the shoulders on a
white frock she was making over
Sirom last year. "Shirt-waist ef-
fects, Gibson girl style, modified" ;"
she says.
Clare Ogden Davis, red-headed
wife of Burton Davis, writer of
mystery and young love stories,
was telling me about her new book.
In Our Country Garden, about
to be published by Dodge. The
Davises tired of Broadway, where
Burton was press agent for Zieg-
field, a few years ago. With lit
erary windfall, they bought a
wooded, rocky hillside in Connect
cut. There they write, raise flow
ers, and are healthy. Burton was
not so we'll after the war. The gar
den and the lawn mower perked
him up. Ideas come best to both
of the Davises early in the morn
ing, when there's no sound in the
air but the singing of birds.
The new trash collecting trucks
of the Department of Sanitation
are the pride of Mayor LaGuard-
las heart. They look like the Mer-
rimac on holiday. Endless convey
ors carry trash from well at the
rear up into the sealed interior.
But ! saw one the other day when
the elevator wouldn't work, and
you should have heard the langu-
agel 1t made the garbage smell
sweet.
No matter: Jimmie Walker still
wears derby well. Lee .Olwell Is
quiet at a social gathering; one Of
those men the ladies like to draw
out. Nobody ever falls under a
subway train, to hear the subway
lawyers tell it. They all jump 4.
But, just the same, I'd like to see
protective fences that would drop
into slots as the trains stop. A
woman with name like Magda
Lupescu would have to be pretty
good. Maxwell Perkins, editor of
the Scribner publishing house,
speaks in such a low tone that
only good ears catch all of it. 9.
Rene Ruchty, French bartender at
the Algonquin Blue Bar, discusses