Evening star., 1942-11-12

fnd, and where
any one who
Henry MeLenors. gets his mail by
rural free delivery is considered q
city slicker.
How I found it. and why I am Z
here, requires considerable expla-
nation.
Dallas was really my destination.
I wanted to take look at the Ferry
Command base at Love Field,
where big and little planes leave
every day to carry Americas might :,
to the far reaches of the world.
But a disturbing piece of news
reached me shortly after I checked
In the Dallas Athletic Club. on
whose seventh floor Is located tho
famed Little Mothers Club. Some
day when both Simon and Schuster
wrest me to the ground and de-
mand my memoirs, I am going to
devote at least three volumes to tho
Little Mothers Club. Founded, en-
dowed and operated by four men
Dick Andrade. E. E. Fogelson, Ro-
land Bond and Tommy Thompson
1t has housed and entertained the
great, the near great and the jerks
OF this broad country.
The upsetting news was this:
Without my knowledge, and Ger
tainly without my consent, the
aforementioned Mr.. Andrade, Bill
Corum, sports editor of the New
York Journal-American; Grantland
Rice and Agnes Mclean declared
me in as a fifth partner in a brood
mare farm, looking toward the
eventual winning Of the Kentucky
Derby. the Preakness, the Belmont
and the Santa Anita Handicap.
With taxes what they are. and
the world as it is, Immediately re-
belled against robbing my little pig
bank for the upkeep of horses. After
all, there are lot Of McLemores
who haven't coats as warm as those
worn by horses, and no one can tell
me that blood isn't thicker than a
photo-finish.
But I soon learned that this is to
be the ideal Utopian brood mare
farm and racing stable. It is to be
strictly on the cuff, meaning every
thing for free. Mr.. Corum, using
persuasive wiles (and a blackjack,
perhaps) got Boatswain's Mate Al
fred Gwynne Vanderbilt to give US
q 5-year-old daughter Of q pretty
good horse, Man O. War. OIL Big Red
himself.
That was fair start. Mr.. An.
drade. by promising never again to
eat biscuit that wasn't made with
Calumet baking powder, wangled a
stallion from Warren Wright, who
owns horse you possibly have heard
about, one, Whirlaway. The horse
we got from this source-you will
now notice that am speaking of
the stable with pride-is Devil Red.
a half brother to Whirlaway, Not
so bad up to now, eh? For free,
too.
Mrs. Mclean, wife of Jock Nc.
Lean, head Of the Southern Aircraft
Corp, and son of Mrs. Evalyn Walsh
Mclean, donated a fine mare that
she bought last year at the Whitney
dispersal sale. The mare is in foal,
to Chance Play, and already we can
see that long-legged little fellow Ito
oe) laundering past the sixteenth
pole at Churchill Downs with day-
light between him and the field.
NOW, for the reason I am at
Farmers Branch, Tex. The Mclean
farm. Friendly Acres, is located here.
and the rest of the new syndicate.
knowing that came from a long
line OF distinguished fence builders,
conscripted me to build a fence
around four acres Of Friendly Acres.
SO that our brood mares would have
Ihe proper surroundings.
am here building a fence, and
what fence! Not common picket
fence, or those white-washed mum.
bers that dot Kentucky's Landscape.
No, Sir. I am building a fence that
Sir Christopher Wren would have
been proud to put his name on. II
is combination Of Early American.
Louis XIV period, Graeco-Roman.
Pseudo Gothic, Hot Shot Tudor
fence. 1t has spires and Corinthtan
columns, and every once In a whils
a Doric column to break the mo.
notony.
When my fence is done-conserva.
tive estimates place its completion
IN 1868. subject to priority and War
Labor Board rulings-nothin9 will
be needed but a name for the stable.
Mr.. Rice was supposed to name tho
stable, but nothing has been heard
from him. Will you readers offer
suggestions?
distributed BY McNaught Syndicate, Ine,