Classiest contested-will case in a vestryman's age was fought in a White Plains, N.Y. court between the Rev. Dr. Henry Darlington, businesslike, 53-year-old rector of Manhattan's fashionable Church of the Heavenly Rest, and relatives of the late, 78-year-old Mrs. Anna H. Patton, who last year left the minister 30% of her $1,300,000. The relatives charged that Dr. Darlington had made love to the widow for ten years to get the money; Dr. Darlington's attorneys described the relationship as pure mother-&-son. Twenty-eight affectionate letters were introduced. One of them: "Dear Anna: Lots of love. Off to Paris tonight. Harry." Excerpt from another from Harry: "Everything is so mixed up. But where there is a will, there is a way." It looked like a long, ambiguous fight.
Royalty
Eighteen-year-old King Peter of Yugoslavia arrived by plane in Washington, looked forward to: 1) talking with President Roosevelt; 2) watching airplane production; 3) driving a jeep; 4) playing baseball. It turned out that he had something else to look forward to, but a war-long wait lay ahead. When it's over he will marry pretty Princess Alexandra of Greece.
The little town of Lee, Mass. (pop.: 4,222) was to harbor a royal family this week: Queen Wilhelmina of The Netherlands, Princess Juliana (who has taken a house in Lee for the summer) and her daughters, Princesses Beatrix, 4, and Irene, 2. Last week 61-year-old Wilhelmina re-rejoined her daughter and granddaughters in Ottawa after a two-year separation. In the offing before she returns: a visit with the Roosevelts.
In & Out
Clark Gable took his physical exam at Washington's Boiling Field for admission to the Army Air Force. He will probably lecture at Air Forces' training schools.
Ralph McAllister Ingersoll, 41-year-old editor of the New York tabloid PM, told his draft board he wanted to "be in the job where I can do this country's enemies the most harm," was classified 1-A, ordered to report for induction this week—at 5:45 a.m. But his rejection by Army doctors was still possible.
Lieut. Carl F. Zeidler, Milwaukee's "boy mayor" who took a leave of absence to enlist in the Naval Reserve, went on duty in charge of a gun crew aboard an Atlantic merchantman.
Department of Utter Confusion
"I address you in a state of considerable panic and alarm," wrote Editor Harold Ross of The New Yorker to the Governor of Connecticut. "I write in sheer terror," he concluded. In between was a communication having to do with invasion—not by a foreign enemy, but by New Yorkers. Mr. Ross understood that a park might be laid out near his estate outside Stamford, and what he feared was picnickers from Harlem and The Bronx. He was fearfully against it. PM called Mr. Ross undemocratic. The President of the Borough of The Bronx called him "a grandee," a "socalled editor," worse, a "creature." Injured Mr. Ross protested that he wasn't against Harlem and The Bronx in particular, but against picnickers. "I don't care whether they're from The Bronx or from Indianapolis, Ind.," he said. "They are extremely numerous."
Second Generation