People: Hands Across the Sea

“I believe we of England have a harmonious feeling for Southern women,” observed Gertrude Lawrence, who will play the Southern mother in the movie version of The Glass Menagerie. “They are usually reposed, quiet-spoken and gentle in their manner. You’ll find that true of most English women.”

Erie Stanley Gardner, who, in the past 16 years, has ground out 62 whodunits (mostly about Lawyer Perry Mason), landed in Manhattan after a visit to England, with an expert’s explanation of Britain’s low crime rate: “Respect for the law. Over here, it’s kind of a game … If you think you can get away with passing a red light, you will. The British don’t look at it that way at all.”

Illustrator George Petty pooh-poohed the vaunted French chic: “When the middle-class French girl dresses up, she undresses. Her costume is a display of sex . . . whereas the healthy outdoor life of the American girl gives her natural radiance, which is the true attraction of the opposite sex.”

“Mrs. Perle Mesta,” reported the Luxembourg correspondent of the London Daily Mail, “is in a fair way to blunder a path into the hearts of the 300,000 people of this microscopic Grand Duchy . . . Impulsive, dictatorial, generous, fussy and friendly, Mrs. Mesta approached her job like the task of arranging a rather large tea-party complicated by the presence of some quaint foreigners . . . The people of Luxembourg are pleased as punch to have her here.”

The Laurels

Grandfather of the Year (named by Chicago’s Grandfathers and Grandmothers Club): Vice President Alben W. Berkley (“all the world loves a lover”). Grandmother of the Year: mad-hatted Hollywood Gossipist Hedda Hopper (“interested in everything that women are interested in”).

Among the U.S.’s most beautiful Negro women (listed by John Robert Powers in Ebony magazine): Contralto Marian Anderson (“an impressive personality and most presentable manners”), Mrs. Ralph Bunche (“dignity, attractive personality, character and a wonderful, soft, feminine beauty”), Hollywood’s Scorch Singer Lena Home (“the best example I know of ‘outer glow’ and ‘inner glow’ delightfully joined”).

Sculptor Jo Davidson, who has modeled heads of Franklin Roosevelt, Mohandas Gandhi, Albert Einstein and Frank Sinatra, wound up a commission in Belgrade, put the finishing touches on a bust of Marshal Tito.

Sweden’s King Gustaf V, 91, recovered from a serious bronchial ailment, felt spry enough to do some shooting (from a canvas folding chair). His bag: two ducks.

Pope Pius XII was presented with a little token of esteem by 700 cheering motor scooter enthusiasts: a shiny, bright blue motor scooter.

The Old Gang

Grace Tully, author of the fast-selling F.D.R. My Boss, looked back on her old secretarial job with mixed emotions. “They were hard sessions,” she recalled. “You worked day and night—and each night you’d go home when the birds were singing. It was that late, that early in the morning … I wish I had those days back again.”

Grace Coolidge, who moved out of the White House in 1929, and Herbert Hoover, who moved in after her, met in another choice spot: the Yankee Stadium field boxes.

Tennessee’s Boss Crump, whose domain shrank last election from the whole state to just the city of Memphis (and surrounding Shelby County), decided that there would be no harm now in admitting his age: 75. Never bothered to set folks right before, he told reporters, “because you’ve misrepresented me for 20 years, and had me younger, not older.” Not that age makes any difference, he added: “You should never quit playing because you are old—you grow old because you quit playing. I enjoy life. I love life. I love people.” Gloria Swanson, high-styled siren of silent movies, showed up in shorts and a crew hat (but stuck to high-heeled shoes) as she took time out from her comeback chores in Sunset Boulevard to water the petunias with Michelle Farmer, 17, her daughter by her fourth husband.

That Old Feeling

After nine months of marriage, Audie Murphy, 25, most decorated U.S. soldier of World War II, rookie cinemactor, author (To Hell and Back), and Wanda Hendrix, 20, cinemingénue (Ride the Pink Horse, Miss Tatlock’s Millions), decided to try a separation. Said Wanda: “This isn’t final. I hope it won’t be. I don’t want a divorce.” Said Audie: “It’s all my fault. She’s done the best she could.”

After eleven months of divorce (following 14 months of marriage), Doris (“Richest Blonde in the World”) Duke, 36. and second husband Porfirio (“Rubi”) Rubirosa, 41, were going around together again. From Paris they arrived in Rome together, and a couple of days later breezed back to Paris.

Leggy Cinemactress Ava Gardner (The Great Sinner), whose first husband was Mickey Rooney and second was Artie Shaw, now felt up to the esthetic side of marriage. “I’ve grown up,” said she. “I used to think books were only good for doorstops. Then I read one and found it habit forming. Now I read all the time. Same with music. I still like pop tunes but I’m getting to be a longhair too. A few years ago I thought anybody who liked to listen to symphonies wore long underwear.”

The Ago Khan proudly announced that his daughter-in-law of four months, the Princess Margarita (more familiarly known to millions as Rita Hayworth) would have a baby “some time between the first of November and January.”

Fair Game

“It may be a dirty trick to announce it so soon,” observed Tallulah Bankhead, revealing plans to write a book about herself and her friends, “because a lot of people will start worrying unnecessarily. But,” she added, “there’ll be a lot of others who won’t start worrying soon enough.”

“I assume they are enjoying themselves, and why interfere?” commented Britain’s Ernie Bevin, picketed by the American-Irish Minute Men of 1949 on the dock in Manhattan as he sailed for home. “I have a sort of fascination about pickets. I used to organize so many of them myself. They’re all good lads, I expect.”

“I don’t want journalists between my feet all the time or any time,” snapped Rachele Mussolini, 60, poverty-ridden widow of the Duce. “I would like to eat my bread and onion, my grapes and water, without being bothered further. I have a name whereof history will speak I hope for a very long time, but that doesn’t mean I am to be a target for journalists . . . I have a right to be left in peace.”

“They shouldn’t sell pop bottles in a ball park,” said “Beans” Reardon, veteran National League umpire, all set to retire after 24 years. “It’s like putting weapons into the hands of imbeciles.”

Greta Garbo’s well-publicized hatred of publicity is no pose, reported International Smart-Setter Cobina Wright Sr. in her Hearst-syndicated column. They were all sitting by the pool after a pleasant, quiet luncheon at the Versailles villa of Sir Charles and Elsie Mendl, when a photographer approached: “The moment she saw the camera, Garbo went through a terrifying transformation. Her face turned pale, her whole body became tense and trembled, and when I took her hand it was cold as ice. Her first erratic reaction was to seize a napkin and hold it in front of her face.” After Elsie Mendl shooed the cameraman away, Garbo told Cobina: “Since I went into the movies when I was 22 years old I have never had a happy moment. I feel like a criminal who is hunted . . . . . .When the photographers come, they draw crowds around me and I just can’t help myself; I am frightened beyond control. Whenever so many people stare at me I feel almost ashamed.”