Page Four.
THE SALEMITE
Miss Ruth Draper
Speaks French
‘ ‘ Well, thanks,” she said gloomily
and dropped the receiver back on its
hook. A reporter’s life is like that
. . . the editor assigns some celebrity
like Ruth Draper for an interview,
Ruth Draper refuses to see the press,
tlie reporter either commits suicide
or knocks down the barriers between
her and her goal.
It was then Monday afternoon be
fore Miss Draper’s presentation in
Winston and Miss Draper had ab
solutely stated that she would see
no reporters. Her performance was
at eight-thirty that evening . . . .
well there w^as a chance!
At seven-thirty, your reporter
might have been caught busying
about in back entrances to the Rey
nold’s Auditorium . . . talking to
stage hands and fire inspectors and
ushers . . . trying to look exactly as
though she belonged exactly where
she was lest someone decide that
maybe she didn’t belong there and
throw her out.
At eight, your reporter was camp
ing uneasily outside the main dress
ing room . . . wondsring whether
Miss Draper had meant what she
said seriously enough to crawl in a
window to evade reporters . . . dis
cussing w^ith the Honorable Frank
Jones about how the city reporters
hadn’t even come down to attempt
an interview because they’d been
forewarned.
The reporter was wishing oh. so
passionately that she had committed
suicide rather than tackle an assign
ment like this. She was sitting
there counting teeth clatters per min
ute when ....
A great bustling noise arose from
the back door ... a noise which
turned out to be a woman in simple
black evening clothes, an da woman
black street clothes, and a woman in
green velvet. With a great swish
the little tribe vanished into the
dressing room and closed the door
.... only the door didn’t quite
close on account of a foot thrust over
the threshhold ... a foot which the
reporter was astonished to find be
longed to her. Well that much of the
crime had been committeed so there
was really no point in not finishing
the job off:
“Miss Draper?” The reporter scan
ned the three women inquisitively. A
cold silence reigned, and then . . .
“Yes.”
It was the woman in the green
velvet. A rather attractive woman
. . . who, incidentally, looks very
attractive from the audience . . .
with traces of auburn left in her
grey hair. Her voice was beautiful
ly modulated on oh so aloof.
‘ ‘ May I chat with you for just a
moment?” The reporter was doing
back bends trying to be tactful and
courteous.
“1 must get dressed, you know.”
The door started closing again and
there seemed really nothing for the*
reporter to do except withdraw her
foot. Yes, she’d made a mistake . .
she would ask tomorrow to be trans
ferred to the editorial .staff . . . the
feature stafT was no place for any
thing less than a superman and the
rejwrter didn’t like supermen. The
Honorable Frank Jones sneered,
“Perhaps you can catch her as
she goes on stage.”
“Perhaps.”
The reporter was ill . . . she sat
there cliewing her nails and wonder
ing what to do next. She, conse-
(juently, did nothing but sit. A
great) despondency enfolded her . . .
The Honorable set his camera in
order that he might get a sneak shot
when theJ door opened.
But when, the door opened it was
to let the woman in street dress
ask the reporter to come in. Trying
not to seem over anxious, the re-
[wrter leaped up and slipped through
the secret portals to the dressing
room.
Miss Dra[)er had changed into wine
velvet and sat before the lighted
mirror. Her hair had been loosened
from its small knot and casually
waved to her shoulders . . . her dress
was protected by a fine white satin
lace edged shawl . . . her exquisite
l)ig brown eyes were appraising the
reporter.
‘ ‘ I don’t give interviews, you
know.” Her tone was still coolly
aloof . . . and her voice was really
beautiful and very provocative.
The reporter murmured yes.
‘ ‘ But you’re young and pretty and
I don’t want you to have to go back
without what you came here for”
Then there ensued about fifteen min
utes of French between Miss Draper
and her maid over a glass of water
with which Miss Draper might take
a pill. When the conversation final
ly got back into English, the re
porter thanked the actress for be
ing so kind . . . and the actress gave
her attention to apply make-up.
“I never wear enough make-u^ on
the stage, you know. It’s so very
tedious. ’ ’
Without any grease paint, Miss
Draper rouged rather heavily, pow
dered more heavily, and made up
her eyes in green. All the while she
chatted intimately with the reporter
about having always had a talent for
doing monologues but not doing them
professionally until she was in her
twenties and that was about thirty
years ago . . . about regretting that
she’d never been to college
about having traveled a great deal
abroad where she learned French,
Italian, Spanish, and some German
. . . about spending her summers
since the outbreak of war in Maine,
playing tennis and sailing her own
boat . . . about touring through all
the states except Montana and the
Dakotas . . . about coming from a
largo family . . . about being un
married . . . about loving the South
. . . about whether she’s shouldn’t
al)andon her inhibitions and smoke
in the Camel city . . . and THEN, a
voice at the door anounced that it
was eight-thirty. One strand of hair
hadn’t been caught by a hairpin;
and, returning to French Miss Dra
per excitedly insisted that' the m^d
do something. The hair vrouldn’t
get in the right place . . . the situa
tion grew worse . . . people were
waiting at the door . . . the audience
was restless . . . Ruth Draper re-
menil)ered the reporter:
“I’m sorry but you’d better go
. . . I can’t bear having someone
watch me every moment, you know.”
As unobtrusively as possible the
reporter thanked Miss Draper, and
transferred from back stage to audi
ence just as swiftly as possible.
When Miss Draper appeared on the
stage a second later; she was fully
C0m])0sel, very charming and gra
cious . . . and the strand of hair
was STILL out of place!
THE SHELF BEHIND THE DOOR
Christmas — and war — and menijfRiclimond
and women. Though earthquakes
rock the shelf, the business of living
goes on . . . though a nation goes to
war, the individuals still have their
little women, their little joys. And
the dust from the shelf this week
flies thick and fast:
Mary Wilson’s theme song these
days is “I’m Undecided Now So
What Am I Gonna Do?” Dee and
Mary still seem to be mighty inter
ested in Virginia boys, could it be
getting serious? Incidentally Copie
has been stepping out with a tall,
dark, and handsome Winston man
We all thought that type of animal
was extinct. Babe ought to start
a collection of pictures, I have heard
she is even A. M. O. L. Why are the
members of the senior class always
on time? Could it be the new, self-
appointed, business manager. Our
glamor-girl, Pinky, is going to be in
another wedding, this time maid-of-
honor, we hear. No one has been
gossiping as much as usual this week
as the worries of the world are on
their minds. If Mr. Roosevelt knew
what grand plans to win the war
were being made here he would prob
ably move South.
The Day Student Center is ter
ribly slow lately — what with the
tests an de very thing; however, El
eanor H. is somewhat excited — who
wouldn’t be ? She’s going to State
Mid-Winters, and speaking of Mid-
Winters — has Carrie ever decided
about Wjake Forest? . . . What hap
pened to the Christmas party the
Day Students were going to have? . .
Eleanor G. seems to be in a pretty
sad w’ay. Her mother is making her
stay in until the holidays ... Is
Cobb leaving you, again, Charlie,
what’s the matter this time? . . .
Barbara hasn’t said anything about
her date Saturday night. What does
that make Conrad? . . . Sarah H. did
you read “Moby Dick” last Sunday
night? . . . Those pretty yellow socks
that Rose is knitting are for Alvin.
SO THIS IS
TIMES SQUARE
Broadway dance halls crowded to
the doors by visiting Free French
exiles, who simply cannot get the
boogie woogie out of this systems
. . . why? ... in France public danc
ing is forbidden, and “bootleg”
dance halls have cropped up all over
the country! ... on 45th Street and
Broadway: Walter Gross, CBS mus
ical director, and Raymond Scott,
discussing the rate of army pay . . .
Scott i>oints out that Marines on
duty in the International Settlement
at Shanghail are paid $1,100 a monh
— be neglects to add that the Ma
rines are paid in Mexican dollars —
18 of which equal one American dol
lar ,. . the Hotel Woodstock is the
only place in the country serving
fresh lettuce soup . . . want a copy
of the recijw? ... the colored boot-
black on 47th and 7th who sur
prised his customers the other morn
ing by handing them cigars . . .
seems he just became the father of
a son, who was promptly christened
“Wleather Strip” . . . because he
kept his daddy out of the draftl . .
Benny Goodman hails a drama critic
to tell him the true story of a local
fireman, so terrifically horse-con
scious, he’ll wager on any nag as
sociated with his profession . . .
and accordingly is sure to have a
bet going any time “Blazing Heat”,
“Fire Marshal,” “Flaming High,”
“Ball o’ Fire” and “Erin Torch”
step to the barrier! ... at the Stork
Club Phil Regan sings the praises of
“A Merry American Christmas,” by
Gladys Shelley, recorded by Kate
Smith, which looms as the Juvenile
counterpart of “God Bles sAmerica”
... in front of the Roxy tunesmith
Abner Silver grabs CBS singer Barry
Wood to tell him the one of the two
herrings who went to Lindy’s — to
tear up a couple of song-writers . . .
at ’21 ’, Larry Adler, the Puck of the
(Continued on Back Page)
V. V., although she is now on re
striction (because of lights), had a
good time with Boy Blue this past
week-end. But her roommate, Ginar,
and Doris C. still wait patiently (?)
for thank-you notes for the last
dance. It was about 4 weeks ago,
wasn’t it girls? Anne Guion, the new
addition to 2nd, can’t decide on
which flying field to center her at
tention — will it be Winston or
Charlotte? Julia Reade received a
Si>ecial from Johns Hopkins. What
is this that you have not told us
Julia? Mary Ellen Carrig is now
making her date from town weekly.
We hear he is mighty cute. Adair
really has ‘ ‘ Lad ” where she w'ants
him. He writes her 4 letters per
week to her one — and on those
records! I’d like to take lessons.
Lynne wrote Dave, at Harvard, the
other day — and she received an air
mail answer the very next day! Do
you reckon it was the perfume she
used? Those reports of bombing the
West Coast have Kemp rather wor
ried. Must have been her trip this
summer — After two weeks of
camping at the P. O., Arabelle fi
nally found a letter in her box —
just to remove the dust. “Geachy'’
seems to have a different date every
week-end. Oh, well, variety is the
spice of life, so they say. Lib Beru-
hart ventured to the K. A. Fratern-
itj' for the Pan Hellic Dances at
Duke. Incidentally, she was about
the only representative from Salem.
Arc you slipping girls? Nancy
Stone’s birthday is Friday — her
many boy friends should be gently
reminded.
Sxcerpts From Emma
We all realize Chaucer had his pa
tron, Ed Sp(?nser and others had
theirs. But Lehman Hall has found
itself a “Mother Strong” in the
person of a seconiJ “Little Red
Man.” Mid the? heavy silence that
always prevails on Saturday night,
a long buzz temporarily intcfrv>ned.
Upon answering the door, one Ma
rion Burvenick shreiked for joy.
There stood a shivering delivery
boy laden with a tremendous brown
paper bag brimming with coca colas,
soggy nabs, and floating chewing
gum. The half-starved Lehmanites
squrtted ’roun the “Christmas
basket” like Grant hung around
There wasn’t “nary a
crumb left” for the rats to chew
(thanks to Leila Sullivan) . . . nev
ertheless the meek and mild ate,
drank, and were merry while it last
ed .. .
Frances Yelverton and Louise
Carpenter were tops on the men’s
lists last wefek-end. If any idle by
standers are curious, they might
consult the former about facial con
tortionists ... at any rate she
ain’t exactly allergic to them.
Carpenter, after reading Lyly’s
Euphues, decided the author advo
cated some excellent points concern
ing the courtship item ... so Tom
my’s competitor — namely Buddy
Sheerin — wooed Louise in the
smokehouse, in the campus living
room, anil even in church. She, in
cidentally, changed her theme song
to: “Is it love or infatuation?”
Second to none is power house
Sink . . . men may come and men
may go, but Robert goes on for
ever. He’s always seen propped up
against a tree, or moping along the
sidewalk ’til Harriett flits out the
front door—then he acquires that
“ just-had-a-vision ” look . . .
After over-turning trash cans,
sneaking ’round deserted closets, and
v.enturing ’neath ash heaps, there
seem to be only one ignored item
. . . that involves one smoldering
time bomb — Deil Buchols by name
. . . Every night ’bout ten, the
aforementioned emerges from her
room simmering like an overly
cooked steak. “Might I ask how
in the world a body is expected to
take a hath in this foul smelling
hole? It’s enough to make a cow
faint.” Whereupon the Nuchols
grabs a clothespin . . . and races for
the tub complaining about some
thing pinching her nose all the
while . . . the situation is quite se
rious tho. If some fumigation ain’t
(lone immediately, Mr. Campbell will
be consulted about regenerating Ceil
a new feature . . .
The Dead-End Kids originated in
Lehman, did you know? Else why
should Manning and Goldberg cart
off a crate of “cokes” from the un
guarded truck? Suzie Willis was
the “eye-ball” posted to warn ’em
of danger . . . nope they didn’t go
to jail — just talked the guy who
brings ’em into donating a couple of
crates (or so he says). Seems that
to retrieve his crate he’d have had
to invade Lehman itself — a fate,
he swore, worse than death!
WILLIAM McCALL
505 W. 4th Street
Be Sure To Visit Us For
Your Christmas Linen
Christmas Greetings
From
FISHER’S
West 4th Street
Barber Photo Supply Co-
KODAK HEADQUAETERS
6th Street Opposite Post Office
WINSTON-SAiEM, N. C.
VOGLER SERVICE
Ambulance Funeral Directors
Dependable for More Than 83 Tears
DIAL 6101
HERE’S
Be sure to get a lamp
that gives you plenty of
the right kind of light.
This will help you
guard against eyestraia
and enjoy seeing com*
fort. To be SURE,
choose a lamp wearing
the I.E.S. Tag. This
badge of honor tells
you the lamp is righf
/nstWe, has everything
you want for better
light and safe
service.
LAMPS
DUKE POWER CO.
LOST?
What to give
him or her for
Christmas!
FOUND!
The right gift
at ... .
West 4th St.
Winston-Salem, N. C.
This ad
Submitted by
Edna Baugham
MILK
SELECTE
D
AIRIES
ICE CREAM
TAKE HOME
Gifts For the Family, Friends, and Relatives
From the House of
Original and Unusual Gifts
ARDEN FARM STORE
Opposite Salem Square
CHRISTMAS GREETIMGS
From
Belk-Stevens Co.
‘THE HOME OF BETTER VALUES”
WINSTON-SALEM NORTH CAROLINA