Transport: Yankee Toast

Aboard the luxurious 22-passenger Imperial Airways liner Frobisher, speeding from Paris to Croydon Airport one evening last week, were a group of travelers that might have been chosen by a cinema director. They numbered 13. Main characters were a sophisticated Manhattan night-club songstress, an aloof British movie actress, an equerry to the Duke of Gloucester, a fun-loving mademoiselle from Paris, a Connecticut Yankee. There were also three solid businessmen, extras.

During the crossing the passengers kept largely to themselves. But when the liner skimmed down over Croydon, then unaccountably roared back up into the air, the plot began to thicken. A mechanic came back into the cabin, lifted up a corner of carpet, pried at a section of floor board. Those who ventured to look below saw fire apparatus and ambulances gathering on the field. The ship’s electrically retractable landing wheels had jammed.

The situation is not new, but each time it happens it is unforgettable to passengers. Sometimes they sit tight. Sometimes they get hysterical. The Frobisher’s passengers provided a gay variation. Yankee John Anthony Celler, a tourist from New Haven, Conn., stood up. “Anybody got a flask or something?” he coolly inquired. “I’d like to celebrate this occasion.” The equerry looked a bit startled, the businessmen surveyed him askance. ButMlle Anne Chagno of Paris came characteristically into the action. She broke out two bottles of champagne. The businessmen quickly found some tumblers. Yankee Celler popped the first cork.

At this point Frances May Maddux, with the aplomb of many a speakeasy and night-club experience at her command, and Cinemactress Grace Evans joined the party. So did the Duke’s equerry, Lieutenant David Scrymgeour (sometimes pronounced skinner) Wedderburn of the Scots Guards. Yankee Celler raised a glass. Yankee Maddux proposed a toast. “To disaster,” she chirruped, adding cannily, “if it comes.” To disaster they drank. Then, prudently refraining from smashing the glasses, they proceeded to polish off both bottles.

Meanwhile the ship’s crew had got at the stuck landing gear after a half hour’s work and hand-cranked it down into landing position. In the gathering night, the Frobisher sat neatly and easily down on Croydon field.

Safely aground, Yankee Celler added a homey touch. “All the time we were up there I was thinking, ‘This will be a first-page story in New Haven if we smash.’ What a vacation for me! Only a week ago I was in one of Hitler’s prisons for taking pictures without permission.” Said brunette Miss Maddux: “It was fun. I think I made some good friends during that half hour.” Then the toasters set off for a party at a London hotel, equerry and all.