RUSSIA: Soviets Prefer Brunettes

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Miss Mary van Renssalaer Cogswell, plump, blonde Manhattan socialite, accompanied by tall, brunette Mrs. Mabel Satterlee Ingalls, niece of John Pierpont Morgan, managed to enter Soviet Russia last month without a visa. Last week she got out of Bolshevikland without even a passport, sold to Hearst papers the romping diary of her exploits, then spilled her story all over again to every correspondent who would listen. Young men-about-Manhattan sighed. They know "Molly" Cogswell. Acutely they sympathized with Bolshevik males who were unable to withstand her high, burbling, husky wheedle.

Miss Cogswell and her "Mabel" (Mrs. Ingalls) were in Berlin when a party of 99 U. S. notables passed through en route to Moscow on a tour arranged by the American-Russian Chamber of Commerce. Next day Socialite Cogswell and Morgan-Niece Ingalls decided that they wanted to tour Russia too, hopped onto a sleeping car to catch up and join the U. S. party.

Russian frontier guards discovered that chubby Molly Cogswell had no Russian visa on her passport. She, resourceful, wept slightly (to the huge embarrassment of stalwart Mabel Ingalls), timidly proffered her visiting card. The frontier guards relented.

Two weeks of the American-Russian Chamber of Commerce tour was as much as adventurous Miss Cogswell and loyal Mrs. Ingalls could stand. Having startled fellow passengers and many a Volga boatman by appearing on the hot deck of a river steamer in lounging pajamas, they left the party at Tiflis in the Caucasus, announced their intention of climbing Mount Ararat "to look for traces of Noah's Ark."

Passed a fortnight. Early last week Molly and Mabel turned up in Moscow, penniless, disheveled, wearing borrowed clothing. With quiet dignity, Morgan-Niece Ingalls remained in the background Said Molly Cogswell:

"The Russian and Persian government wouldn't let us climb Mount Ararat so we had to turn back. At Kutais we hired a motor bus for $75. It was too expensive for us so we picked up passengers and collected $38 in fares. We charged extra for all bundles though the Caucasians kicked. One young man said he had heart failure and wanted to ride on the front seat, but Mabel and I chucked him out.

"We crossed the Ossetian Road on horseback. My dear, have you ever ridden in a Caucasian saddle? It's got a ridge as sharp as a roof. I had a pair of camel's hair breeches—have you ever worn camel's hair pants?

"At Kutais we were arrested as British spies for taking photographs and spent two hours in jail. That night we slept on the floor of a schoolhouse. We only had five blankets. Mabel had one, the Armenian guide had one, and I had three. It was hard on Mabel.

"At Vladikavkas we wangled tickets on the railroad to Moscow. There were 13 of us in the car including a Russian general. We thought he was a porter and tipped him for getting us tea. My dear, how could we tell? All he had on was a pair of pants and an openwork undershirt.

"At five o'clock in the morning Mabel was asleep and I went out to take a walk on a station platform. Someone stole my pocket book with all my money, my passport, two crystal bracelets and some samples of window curtains that my mother wanted me to buy in Italy.

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