The Waterbury Democrat., 1939-05-12
PORTRAIT OF A COLUMNIST
 PLAYING THE TYPEWRITER

PORTRAIT OF A COLUMNIsT
 PLAYING THE TYPEWRITER Today I burned your portraits, every
 Onel tore you outr-each root and
 branch and leaf.
 l said, ''Now. love is over, this is
 done!
 Then watched the flames devour
 them--like my grief.
 All day I've told myself that I am
 free. I'm free to think, and live as others No more the bonds, of long cap-
 tivity.
 And yet my thoughts are all of you
 -of you.
 Although I say, "Our love is over.
 Dead.
 As dead as ashes left within the
 grate,"
 I can't forget the words we should
 have said,
 The promises we made, alas, too
 N. late.
 By some device unknown to man or
 art,
 I find your face burned deep upon
 my heart.
 A. c.
 Here is an interesting Lindbergh story, never before printed to our knowledge, which is supposed (ac- cording to his aviation intimates) to explain the antipathy he has always felt for the press. Even be- fore his flight to Paris he avoided the scribes, and this is supposed to be the reason T. When he was a youngster, just another pilot, he used to make few dollars now and then flying pictures for newspapers On one such occasion, while flying the mail between Chicago and New York, he was instructed to pick up a package of films Cat Cleve- land) of the Shenandoah crash, and deliver them to 8 New York tab- loid-the News, by the way He stopped at Cleveland, rushed over to a press office, and asked for the package for the Daily News :. It was too good an opportunity (to scoop the opposition) for a Hearst reporter to pass up. He asked Lindy to wait and a moment. later brought him a parcel Lindy raced on to New York and delivered the films" When the package was opened it was found to contain six ham sandwiches Lindy caught hell all around, of course, and from that day on has never trusted newspaperman <. With the sole exception, possibly, of Deke Lyman, the New York Times vet eran,, to whom he gave the scoop about moving abroad.
 Guy Morgan, of the London Daily Express, tells a story on former Reichsbarlk- Chief Schacht, at pres ent in India for his health Someone asked him: What's it like being German-after Austria, af- ter Czechoslovakia, after Mcneil" Schacht replied: "It doesn't make much difference. It's like a man who's in jail for life and hears they've added a new wing to the building"
 It's inconsequential incidents like this that keep this columnist in- torested in columning, after IS years of it Charles Macarthur, the playwright, was in "21" and he was terrifically tall Very high, to you One of the delicatessen- CTS who run the joint went over to Charles and said: Don't you think you ought to go home and go to sed?' Macarthur swayed to 8 dangerous angle and hiccuped: "Tll ledya know-after make up m'mind" Suddenly he stood up, with chin out and shoulders back He walked outside un- steadily and got into a cab Where to?" asked the hackman. "Twenny-one!" beloved Our Hero. Margaret Rawlings, the London actress recently seen here in the flop '"The Flashing Stream, has considerable sex appeal And she knows it :. Don't you feel a little embarrassed on stage in the clothes you practically don't wear?" asked pal "No, I don't" re- piled Margaret. When I am on stage, I never see rows of men sit- ting out front. see rows of as- paragus."
 Milton BerIe button -holed us at 46th Street at 1858 this ayem, to tell us about Max Mefoofsky afi Able Slobodkin, who died and we to heaven Calling on IT Big Boss, Max said, "Plizz, Yu..z Honor, I would like to telling you dot on cart is going on somting terrible. For ofer fife thousant yizz de Hebrooz vuz you chozen pipple. PlizZ, fer a chenge, chooze some-