People, Feb. 14, 1938

“Names make news.” Last week these names made this news:

Available to President Roosevelt last week were two suggestions on how to check depression. Suggested Economist Carl H. Henrikson, assistant dean of the Business School of the University of Chicago, to Philadelphia Rotarians: “If all economists in the world were laid on their faces, it would be a good thing for business.” Suggested cantaloupe-faced Philosopher Will Durant, to Californians: “Raise more fruit and less nuts.”

In San Francisco Samuel Goldwyn, hard-working film producer, released a pithy Goldwynism: “I go to a movie every night. Why not? I’ve got to do something to take my mind off my business.”

The Chicago Defender, one of the largest U. S. colored newspapers, announced to 97,000 readers that next week it would publish a column by Marva Trotter Louis, wife of dead-pan Actor-Pugilist Joe Louis, which would “unfold all that’s new … for each dressy hours of the day and evening. . . .”

Under a pert caricature of New York City’s explosive Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia at the art show of the Columbia University faculty appeared:

A really amazing fellow Is our Mayor, the good Fiorello—When his views are sought He expresses each thought By emitting a furious bellow!

In Philadelphia, the Right Honorable Viscount Leverhulme, head of Lever Bros. Ltd. (Soap) arrived at the 30th Street Railroad Station. President of the International Committee of Scientific Management, he was vexed to discover that he had brought his wife and baggage, had forgotten his railroad tickets. Efficiently he boarded his train, bought two more tickets.

Blind ex-Senator Thomas P. Gore of Oklahoma heard loud metallic scrunchings and raspings, suffered painful bruises and cuts when a Washington, D. C. ash truck shattered his automobile, driven by Mrs. Gore. Also shattered were the Gores’ hopes of a good trade-in on a new car waiting for them three blocks away.

Seven years ago, in Washington’s Pan American Union, diplomats blushed almost as red as the Union’s macaw, Lorito, when that platitude-hating bird garnished a radio speech by President Herbert Hoover with a raucous Bronx cheer. Recently Lorito’s obscene outcries (in Spanish & Portuguese) were silenced forever when he was done to death by David, the Union’s gaudy green parrot. Last week, the parrot-murderer, possessed of Lorito’s testy spirit, interrupted Secretary of State Cordell Hull, who was giving a speech to the Union (on Davis Cup drawings), with a Bronx cheer so vigorous that it would have warmed the heart of Herbert Hoover.