The Waterbury Democrat., 1939-02-24

S my 136ner, WnO
 SNN had been a sail-
 or, always con- 'iSl'sssss@ Sidered the most undesirable job in the world to be wearing out the seat of your pants in somebody's office" .. The tailorS in annual session have picked Brock Pemberton, theatrical producer from Kansas, as one of the nations best-dressed men, So will Broadway forget the jibes about chicks" from Leaven- worth and Emporia? ,. Pierre van Passen, who lately published his memoirs, Days of Our Years" Is a thoughtful looking person with a far-away look in his eyes when he's walking along the street. I can remember when he did a column about New York. I was always impressed by the aris- tocratic sound of his name !. It's just about time to begin oiling up the harness and getting the plowShares sharpened for spring work, out where the oats grow tall and I believe the First Robin has put in a formal appear ance in Central Park.
 Mrs, Woodrow Wilson wrote of her husbands final collapse, in a recent issue of the Saturday Eve ming Post, She describes Vividly, and with a wifely feeling that is touching, even on the cold page of a magazine, how he rose and dressed after nights and days of suffering. to deliver an address at Wichita, How he finally agreed with the doctors that he couldn't do it, and how the train, with drawn shades, raced for Washing ton.
 Some six thousand of us were awaiting the President at the For um that day. As editor of local newspaper, I was in the working press section. Much exercised, I remember. because I thought the oppoSitlon'S United Press man was jockeying himself and his tele- grapher into a position more fav- orable than that of Our ASSoci- ated Press man.
 As it turned out. the position made no difference. After a wait of two hours, Bob Timmons, rep resenting the reception committee. stepped upon the platform and announced that the President would be unable to speak. The meeting broke up with an atmos- phere of tragic foreboding,
 For heroiSm uneXploited, permit me to commend that Mrs. Watson who was briefly celebrated in the press after the wreck of the air liner Cavalier, You may remember that all those who were rescued told how Mrs, Watson kept up the courage of the little group. bob ping about in that vast expanse of ocean, How she sang. and got them all singing, How she swam about, kneading cramps out of the muscles of those less hardy than she.
 Then, perhaps you wondered what happened to Mrs. Watson all of a sudden, We'll. I met some friends of hers the other day. and they told me that she is back in Bermuda, running her little guest house, In Bermuda, many visitors are accommodated in groups of small houses, and thousands of annual Bermuda -goers like to live that way, rather than in hotels. Mrs, Watson runs a guest house business, small. unpretentious, mildly profitable. She's not build ing any additions on account of her sudden fame, and She has so many regulars that she can't take new guests often anyway.
 New Workers who stay at the Watson place tell me that Mrs. Watson has always been immense ly popular with her customers be- cause of her good nature and courtesy, When they read of her behavior in the disaster they weren't surprised. Sure, she'd do just that" they said.
 Walter pamroSch endeared him- self to additional thousands of Americans when he directed his symphony orchestra in rendition of "Epitaph to Barney" the sad melody written by a Brooklyn business man in memory of his beloved dog, A less human con- ductor might have disdained to present so simple a bit of music. not written by noted musician. Dr DamroSch showed that it is not beneath the dignity of really great men to mourn for their faithful companions, My hat is off to Damrosch, artist supreme.
 The fleet of white passenger ships of the Hudson Day Line is tied up at Hudson river docks near the foot of 42d stret. The vessels are kept in good condition. with skeleton crews for turning over machinery and keeping all ship shape against a day when the fleet may once more carry passengers up and down the river. New York CTS had taken the fleet for granted for so many generations that it was a great shock to hear that the owners were unwilling any longer to pocket their losses.
 A ship that is retired from ser vice is a sad thing to look upon. Like an old miner who sits dis consolately in his wheel chair and watches the boys step out of the cages at the mine.