Evening star., 1941-09-13

II Z M Ss
McLemOre. OLeary's cow.
From the moment he abdicated in
favor of that ridiculous but univer-
sal emotion, love, Edward has taken
verbal battering. Wally has been
the butt of more ridicule than the
old model T Ford.
If the Windsors are smart they'll
get to that ranch in Canada as fast
as a democratic train or plane will
carry them. Everything they do
will be interpreted as a sure-fire
symptom of decadence. II he gets
haircut, some one is sure TO say
that now is hell of time for him
to get haircut, what with London
being bombed. If she gets mani
cure and shampoo she'll be remind
ed of the thousands OF English
women who are putting out incen-
diary bombs and fastening the caps
on shells.
Heaven help the Windsors If they
pause at Palm Beach or Newport or
any one of the other fashionable
scotch and watering" places. The
fact that thousands of Americans
are playing at such places and that
thousands of Englishmen are still
winning and dining in London's West
End won't help their cause any.
Heaven help them, too, if they try
to lead the simple life.
Just showing off" everybody will
say. Trying to get our sympathy"
They are the only couple I know
that is not only behind the eight
ball, but between the devil and the
deep blue sea and Scyna and
Charybdis as well.
I, for one, am not going to pick on
them when they come TO this coun-
try. For two reasons, one of them
being that am firmly convinced
| that Edward, Duke of Windsor, is
now going through his own particu-
lar hell on earth. No one can ever
| convince me that a man who was
brought up as he was; with duty
toward and love for his empire
drilled into him from cradle days,
can ever be happy being what he is
In the world as it is today.
While his country appeals for the
help Of every able man and woman,
ne is, to give him his proper title,
nothing more than the superintend-
ent of a playground-Nassau. There
must have been times when he posed
down there with those lap dogs and
golf sticks that he felt he must
throw them all into the ocean and
start swimming toward England.
AS country boy, kings and former
kings still hold a tremendous spell
over me. They may all be unworthy
of the high titles they inherited. but
they still impress me. I wouldn't
have known this, don't suppose, if
I hadn't gone to Nassau last winter
and met the Duke of Windsor.
Try as I might, just couldn't feel
the same around him as I do around
most OF the people I meet. Every
time I looked at him I remembered
that he had been a king of England
and that I was just few years
advanced from sleeping on pallets
when visitors came to our house.
churning the ice cream for Sunday
dinner and hoping that my sisters
wouldn't eat all the white meat and
would leave me a little.
I did my best to talk naturally and
act as if meeting former king was
an everyday occurrence with me,
but know failed. I hemmed and
hawed and was terribly worried
whether or not had on the best
pair of trousers to my two trousers
suit.
can't honestly feel that am
different from millions of other
American people. Don't tell me that
there aren't thousands and thou
sands of people who go about knock
ing the Duke and Duchess who
wouldn't be excited if they suddenly
found out that they were coming to
the house for dinner. Don't tell me
that Mamie, the maid, wouldn't be
cautioned against stacking the
dishes at the table, that the chill
dren wouldn't be told they could
peek through the door before going
upstairs, that every neighbor with
telephone wouldn't be told the
news, and that papa wouldn't pat
mother on the back and say, Nov,
remember, no matter what goes
wrong tonight, we're just as good as
they are"
distributed by McNaught Syndicate, Incl