Evening star., 1943-09-16

as he goes. No use sitting here all
night. Ha, the Victory Room.
Mrs. Kramer's blue -pillared nook
has the look of Monday night
doldrums, Washington specially.
But this apparently does not ruin
the disposition of Mr.. Won Lowenfelt,
the manager; nor of Mr.. Demarest,
the captain. They discuss informally
the affairs of the Victory Room day,
which have to do mostly with the
band of Don Murphy, thrown into
the breech created when the orig
inally scheduled band had a sudden
relapse owing to selective service.
The bands manager, Mr.. Shafer,
and the bandleader pulled up chairs.
Both gentlemen are entirely modest
about their efforts, tending to pooh
pooh any notion except that they
are promising. Mr.. Won Lowenfelt,
a civilian defense meeting on his
agenda, apologies and hurries of.
Mr.. Demarest tells series Of jokes
in French and English dialect. Mr..
Murphy shrugs his shoulders, minces
across the dance floor and starts
another set. The man with the ale
looks cooperative. but there's a job
o. work to do. Mr.. Shafer appends
his adieu with further invitations.
Where's that cab?
The matron at the Dubonnet
Room who tends hats excitedly dis
plays tickets to 4 Hildegarde broad
cast rs she hands across the hat
checks. Yes, Mr.. Deveau is here;
in fact, he is almost trampled by the
walking press as it enters the room
with = wary eye open for vacant
tables. AS manager, Mr.. Deveau
has nothing oflcially to impart-not
even a cool green bottle OF ale. But
the house practically belongs to the
press, won't you please have a table
and stuff. The medley of Davey
Crocker's ensemble ends, Singer
Jean Lee, in a low-cut gown, flashes
past with a blank hello; putting
on cigarettes, the musicians saunter
into the lobby, their hangout. This.
apparently, is not the best of mo-
ments to be In the place: the
thought, in fact, becomes a con-
viction after listening to the snappy
repartees alnanating of a nearby
tableful of ladies who have been
drinking dry martins. Where's that
check, oh? Singer Jean Lee, In
high-cut gown. flashes back in as the
press flashes back out.
The Sazerac Room of the Old New
Orleans Restaurant is not the next
destination, for the simple reason
that Mr.. Gerry. the new manager,
Is on the ground floor and stymies
such intentions. Small matter, since
Lee Williams has been elevated from
the Sazerac to play ground floor
piano, and Marian (not Marian"
for some reason earle is there, too.
There is talk of new plans, one of
which already has been instru-
mented: hat-check booth inside the
new entrance, considerable of a con-
venience, Mr.. Gerry AYERS. The
party agrees. During the several
AAVCA AAAo AL WIllCll lCAVcS Lie
table to settle technical problems
presented by walters and cashiers,
Miss Carle carries on an intent
conversation regarding photographs
and their relation to newspaper
publications. She promises to fulfill
her obligations in that connection,
which encouraging words are lost In
reveries Of the Balalaika. just across
the street and patiently the next
stop.
1t Is midway through a discussion
with. Misha Bess on the likelihood
OF the Russian forces reaching Dnie-
peropetrovsk before winter that
something resembling rigor mortis
begins to set in. The feeling passes
momentarily As Valesko zips of that
amazing and amazingly I'M -songlike
"Rumanian Shepherd Song" on the
violin. But then Dnieperopetrovsk
again, and the rest OF the revue with
which Balalaika patrons have been