The London nightclub set headed for the Café de Paris and a rare evening: Playwright Noel Coward was making his debut as a cabaret entertainer. Among those present: Princess Margaret, with a party including Prince Nicholas of Yugoslavia and Lucian Freud, grandson of the psychoanalyst (see MILESTONES). At another table sat the Duchess of Kent with Prince and Princess George of Greece. For 45 minutes the royal and common customers listened to the ratchety-voiced Coward sing a medley of his own songs, caper through his witticisms, and taper off with a blend of sentimental and naughty ballads. The customers considered their money well spent; so did the club, which offered to extend their new star's contract (four weeks at £1,000aweek) indefinitely.
In Portland, Ore. for a concert with the local symphony, Helen Traubel explained why she had dropped Onetime Pupil Margaret Truman. Said she: "I stopped teaching her because I didn't think she was ready for all those appearances. The offers just kept coming in. I even went down to Washington to see her daddy. I told him I couldn't go on if she accepted the offers. It's too bad. Most young singers just don't realize how much they have to study. The funny thing is, she really has a nice voice—nothing great—but good enough for a career. And she wants so much to sing."
In Manhattan, another facet of Margaret Truman's career got a higher rating. As guest artist and straight woman on the Jimmy Durante show, she surprised and pleased both the public and the Schnoz himself, who rasped: "We'll call the act Truman, Jackson and Durante—we'll moider 'em."
On Halloween night in Omaha, Neb., Blackstone the Magician marked the 25th anniversary of the death of his friend, Harry Houdini. In the ritual of the annual seance, he spread a deck of cards, held a small padlock and called to the spirit world: "All right, Harry, if you're around, let us know." Harry's job was to unsnap the padlock and make the queen of clubs dance from the deck. After waiting a minute and a half, Blackstone gave up, to try again another year. At another party in Manhattan, Mentalist Dunninger also waited in vain. All he wanted was a message in Morse code from Harry.
On the brink of his 83rd birthday, photographers in Uvalde, Texas got a harvest picture of John Nance Garner that looked for all the world like Old Brown, the late great Beatrix Potter's grouchy owl.* Unlike Old Brown, however, who allowed brash Squirrel Nutkin and his cousins to gather his crop of nuts, the former Vice President was busy doing it himself. From the trees in his backyard, he said, "I hull two bushels of pecans a day, shell about six to eight pounds a day, and sell them for a dollar a pound."
Second Thoughts
In Paris, former Belgian Premier Paul-Henri Spaak, now chairman of the Council of Europe, suggested to a diplomatic press luncheon that U.S. efforts to aid Europe might be evaluated in a new light: "If I had to persuade my constituents to pay 10% more taxes for aid to America, and tell them that Belgian conscripts should serve in Arkansas, I am fairly certain I should not be re-elected."