OCR Text |
Show LIGHTS OF NEW YORK By WALTER TRUMBULL ists are driving good looking cars, many of them new. A letter from Frank Hartman, editor edi-tor of the Republican, in Farmington, N. M., says that he once went to school In Pleasant Hill, Mo., with Frank Trumbull, later head of the Colorado Col-orado Southern & Michigan Central railways. I first met Frank Trumbull in Venice. I had preceded him up through Italy and the tourist agencies ' and hotels used to get our mail hope- Iessly mixed. We had a very pleasant time together, but never could discover that we belonged to the same branch of the family. The history of depressions in the United States appears to be that they last about three years, with nine fairly fat years in between. Those of us, therefore, who are still around in the early 1940s may be expected to go about snorting: "Panic! You don't know anything about a panic. You are too young to remember 1931." When Helen Morgan wes in Havana, the movie people decided it would be nice to take a little shot of her buying something in a department store. They did not care which store, but the managements man-agements of the two largest stores In Havana cared a lot. They were firm in the belief that if Miss Morgan went on the screen in a store, the particular emporium made a lot of difference. The contestants turned Miss Morgan's suite at the hotel into a verbal battleground. battle-ground. Neither she nor her mother understood Spanish, but they could perceive that the argument was bitter. The battle was at its height when Evelyn Kelly, an old friend of Miss Morgan, arrived. Not only could she understand Spanish but it appeared she had taken a temporary job in the older of the two palaces of merchandise. merchan-dise. That turned the scales of war. Miss Kelly's store won in a walk, at the end of which the picture was made. Miss Morgan's only bet in Cuba was to the extent of a peseta. She lost it, and, not knowing how much a peseta might be, proffered a dollar In settlement settle-ment To her surprise, she got SO cents in charge. Small boys in New York have a habit of jumping up on the back of taxicabs and going for. a ride. They get on when the traffic stops for a red light, but the cars run so fast between lights that they have to wait for the next halt to got off. As the taxis begin to slow down, the kids leap gaily from their perches, seldom looking behind them. We always wonder why they don't get killed, but never yet have seen one hurt. i (. 1932, Bell Syndicate.) WN'U Srvlca. |