Newspaper Page Text
1
Continued on Page 4, Column 1
Photograph
Miss Jackson
Lenney.
ATLANTA, GA., SUNDAY, DECEMBER 7, 1913.
G OOD, my friend*, listen, and I
will tell you a story. It Is all
about a certain bright young
woman of my acquaintance who
would have made a delightful actress,
maybe, If her feet had been guided In
the course of that career by circum
stances. And about her stralt-lacod
husband, who Is Just as Interesting as
she.
She belongs to the Players’ Club,
does our fair heroine. And In par
celing out the parts for the next play
they gave her, as was her right, a
leading role In Bernard Shaw's cute
little play, “How He Died to Her
Husband.’’ Sounds Interesting, doesn’t
It? Well, It Is Just as Interesting
as It sounds, because Bernard Shaw
Is—well, Just Bernard Shaw, you
know, with a will and a mind of his
own.
Anyhow, her part as a Wt devilish
and brisk. And It was so interesting
and so bright that she stole home,
with her lines under arm, all thrilled
with the anticipation of learning them
and of creating a stir when the time
came for the play.
Straightway she began to rehearse
them in the bat it parlor. And as she
was prating and Shaw-lng, who
should come Into the front parlor but
straight-laced husband?
And—oh, what a growl was there!
Husband burst asunder the folding
doors, and entered. He seized the
manuscript dramatically.
"Never!” cried he. Bernard Shaw
himself could not have conceived a
more splendid attitude.
Of course, my near-actress friend
pleaded and explained. But husband
1 “never-ed" again, and It was all over.
The Players’ Club found someone
else for the part,
* * *
I ET me rhapso^ze in peace! Oh,
for a trip like that Walter P.
Andrews and Mrs. Andrews are
taking, all through the dear, blue
Mediterranean, from country to coun
try, from court to court, from fete to
fete! I am proud enough and sure
enough of our Atlanta folks to know
that the standing of the United States
with these Mediterranean countries is
going to be a little bit higher because
of their visits.
Of course, you all know what the
visit is for—how the Andrewses are
sailing on the battleship bound on
a mission of establishing an entente
cordiale between our nation and the
little states over there, and to urge
them to have exhibits at the Panama
Exposition. You know how the job
is going to take them to grand func
tions and to royal entertainments.
And you have wondered, just as I
did, about the varieties of gowns and
costumes Mrs. Andrews must have.
What a wardrobe is necessary when
one is entertained in courts by
crowned heads!
Of course, I have been gossiping
about it. Trust me for that. And I
hear that Mrs. Andrews spared no ex
pense in getting up her “trousseau"
for this glad voyage, and that it cost
nearly $4,000 altogether. And, in ad
dition to having a splendid wardrobe,
Mrs. Andrews possesses the innate
knack of wearing clothes well. Oh,
there is no doubt the United States
has suitable representatives for bo+h
sexes in our two Atlanta people.
• * •
D ON’T think for a second that you
are going to be allowed to for
get your Christmas duty to the
poor, pitiful folks of Atlanta who are
not on the visiting list of Santa Claus.
Sometimes I am so iconoclastic as to
think old Santa, our perfect saint of
childhood, something of a snob. But
anyhow, you must help mend matters
in the cases where he forgets.
And you will have, as a reminder
of your duty, Tango Supper. It will
be held at the Winecoff Hotel Mon
day evening after the theater, and for
the benefit of the Empty Stocking
Fund that The Sunday American and
Atlanta Georgian are trying so hard
to help along.
Quite a new wrinkle, isn’t it, this
after-theater party? And when you
come to think of it, the inspiration
that prompted the hour seems heaven
sent. Sometimes, after I leave the
theater, and sit for five minutes sip
ping a hot chocolate or something, I
walk out on the street to find that
Atlanta is dark and dull and forbid
ding. No gayety, no brightness. Noth
ing but a Milledgeville-like stillness
and quietness and dismalness. And 1
blush a bit for Atlanta’s lack of life-
Funny, isn’t it, that the hotel man
agers haven’t awakened to the
thought that, there being no enter
tainment after the theater in Atlanta,
such an innovation as an evening tan
go party would make a remarkably
profitable institution for them.
Anyhow, there will be this one at
the Winecoff Monday night. And
come, won’t you, for the sake of your
Christmas duty.
• * *
J OSEPH N. MOODY has fallm
under the spell of the new
dances. He has been taking
lessons regularly on the mezzanine
floor of the Georgian Terrace and at
the last report was rapidly acquir
ing the “hestitation.” The other night
a debutante was coaching him.
“Quit looking at your feet, Mr.
Moody,” she advised, “As long us
your eyes are on your feet you never
will learn.”
“Tut, tut,” replied the rotund Mr.
Moody. “I haven’t seen my feet for
forty years and the only reason lam
taking up dancing is in the hope
that some day my eyes might rest on
them again.”
• • •
I F I ever decide to learn the tango—
perish the thought—I certainly will
take lessons from the teacher who
tanght Y efiLZ Y Rainwater and his
charming 1 * wife. Did you see them
the other day at the tango tea In the
Piedmont. Everyone had been ono-
stepping and hesitating when the or
chestra struck up a tango. The real
truth about the tango Is that very few
girls and not one man in fifty can
dance it. Consequently there was no
rush for the floor. Tlje only couple
that started were the Rainwaters.
They went through the entire dance
alone and I have never seen it danced
better. Neither one missed a step and
they danced figures that would have
surprised even Helen Dargan and Eu
gene Haynes. When the music finally
stopped the Rainwaters were actually
applauded. More tango power to
them.
* • •
J UST THINK—three weddings next
week! Its seems to me that it’s
Just weddings, weddings, wed
dings, nowadays.
Ever since August we have had
them straight along, and really not a
week has passed by all the way
through October and November with
out at least one. However, the cal
endar for the first December week
showed no signs of one and that’s
why there will be three now, for they
have to make up for lost time.
The first is Tuesday evening. Now
If I tell you the correct time will you
promise to be there promptly? The
time—the wedding march will begin
at 8:30, and the place—Is 1175 Peach
tree road, while the girl Is Emily Win-
ship. Of course, Hugh Scott is so
timid that I don’t think he’d mind if
I didn’t even mention his name- in
public, but Just for mischief I will.
The past week has been quite gay
for Miss Winship and her wedding
Bride-to-Be and Three Charming Women
m
At this upper right is Miss
Eula Jackson, whose mar
riage to Edward H. Alsop
will be a brilliant event of
Friday evening. At the
left is Mrs. Joseph D. Rhodes,
one of Atlanta's most
beautiful women, who al
ways is exquisitely gowned.
Mrs. Charles Dana, of
New York, is the central
figure below. She is visit
ing her sister, Mrs. Frank
Adair, and has been hon
ored guest at a number
of elegant affairs during the
past few weeks. At the
lower right is Mrs. Charles
Veazy Rainwater, the pret
tiest dancer at the Tango
Tea on Monday afternoon
for the benefit of the Empty
Stocking Fund.
Photographs of
Mrs. Rhodes, Mrs.
Dana and Mrs.
Rainw r ater, by
Sunday American
Staff Photogra
phers,