Newspaper Page Text
liss Cooiiey’s Dance
iss Dorothy Judkins, who is spending the winter with her
md; Miss Jessie McKee, a debutante of this season;
Miss Louise Riley, the
beautiful young daughter
of Mr. and Mrs. Robert
/Mr® El Riley; Miss Laura Lee
[ 1 RjgSk Cooney and Mrs. R. L.
H*r'Cooney as they appeared
at l ^ e debut dance of Miss
1 J$m Cooney at the Piedmont
j Club Tuesday evening.
wanted to dream some more over the
idyllic setting 1 , but anyhow, some
body should have remained with him.
Some of the folks heard a commotion
outside and ran out to see him
floundering in the flowing brook,
hob-nobbing with the little Ashes, and
very, very wet. He tried to explain,
but the obvious thing was that he
dreamed himself one of*the goldfish,
and In he went.
But to get back to the serious beau
ties the party. What do you think
when I tell you that the wonderful
stream was only one Incident In the
general scheme? I entered the bail-
room through a forest of pine trees.
Within the big room there were tall
columns adorned with gray mo3s.
That room was a dream chamber,
with a profusion of pink roses toning
sweetly with the gray. The brook
was on the porch just off the dance
hall, running between banks thick
with small ferns and tropical palms,
with red flowers and narcissi here
and there. I was fascinated like
everyone else.
And the cabare: during dinner! Xo;
this is not Aladdin's Garden I am de
scribing, but an evening’s entertain
ment here in Atlanta. There were
Hawaiian singers and dancers, with
guitars and banjos and other tuneful
and bright featuies. I verily believe
a new custom has been established
by this cabaret entertainment. As far
k w / ELL, my eyes are wide open
\ \/ now, and I am really startled.
How grandly our debutantes
,f this season are being launched
upon the sea of society! A mighty
iot of fuss and feathers.
We all thought, didn’t we. that the
iiu • for elaborate debut parties was
reached at the Inmans’ entertainment
for Margaret Grant. But, of course,
; ons of us dreamed of the glories that
vvere being arranged for the party of
the Cooneys, when Laura Lee Cooney
inale her bow.
Oh. That Cooney party! I do hope
you were one of the fortunates who
were there. And I do hope you saw
the rhiborate mise-en-seene of rocks
am! running streams and their cute,
wr. ;gly goldfish. It was a superb ar
rangement.
But what are we coming to? I re
member-talk of the far-famed debu
tante party in Washington for Mar
garet Draper, when golden butterflies
were; freed to flutter through the
parlors. That WAS the limit, wasn’t
it? Yet. it was not a far cry from
*he h'ooney party.
That running stream! And those
goldfish! And the gasps of admira
tion!
Of course, something had to hap
pen. After the guests had duly ad
mired the stream, word came out that
Donna Bain was dancing within the
house, and everybody crowded to see
day, and Christmas hadn’t coma yat.
and for several days I was kept in
mystery aa to why ahe should have
sent them. Finally I learned that,
even though ahe was a happy mar
ried woman, aha had been up to soma
mischief, and was afraid that I would
hear of it and tell you. A young girl
friend told her she was going to tell
me about the fun and she replied, "I
don’t care If you do. I have already
bribed her." So that la the why of
the roses.
her white satin gown with its drapery
of tulle and rhinestones. Nothing
could have set off her ivory complex
ion and her jet black hair quite so
well.
None of the debutantes seemed
more popular than she—gracious,
charming she. The Cooneys, wise
persons, have always believed in girls
waiting until they reach young lady
hood before commencing the social
life. And in consequence their daugh
ter is capable of enjoying everything.
She is not at all blase, as so many
girls are these days—however, I think
most of* them affect it—and she is
proud to own that she is having a
good time in a way thats he has not
known before.
held in place with two little animals
called fitch, the newest thing in fur.
With this creation she w'ore some
superb diamonds in the way of a
necklace, the central stone of which
represented a small fortune in itself.
Mrs. Brandon was so quaint in her
little (for you know how dainty a
creature she is. and that word fits her
garments perfectly) cream and violet
charmeuse. the violet being intro
duced in the drapery so that it
reached her toes. Her slippers were
of the violet satin, too. I hear that
violet is the last word in color now
and royal purple is also very popular.
Speaking of royal purple, did you
M ANY of th© girls in town read
what Madame Haute Monde has
to sav about styles every Sun
day, and as a result one girl waa
brave enough to adopt the fashion of
wearing black gloves. Of course, she
waa very willing, as It keeps a girl
V/| RS. JOHN MARSHALL SLA-
j I TON, wife of our Governor,
who is one of the most stun*
ning matrons of society, is noted for
her exquisite taste in selecting her
gowrs. Her clothes are always no
ticeable for their perfect fit and in
dividual charm, no matter what the
occasion may be. I saw her the other
evening with Mrs. Morris Brandon,
buav constantly trying to always have
a fresh pair of whit© ones ready for
each party.
Now th© young lady ts very much
put out. On© evening she wont to the
theater with her best beau, wearing
her black gloves They were seated
near the back of th© box when sud
denly she felt him catch hold of her
hand. She tried to pull away, but h©
held It too tightly. After pleading with
him softly, she told him that she was
afraid that someone would see. He re
plied, promptly: "No, they won’t, and
you know that. Isn't that why you
are wearing black gloves—so that I
can hold your hand without It being
visible on my coat? It’s awfully
sw’eet of you, Gertie.” Now she has
gone back to white coverings for her
hands, cost what they may.
things as the frivolities of the flesh
cross his mind, and you'll have this
latest suspect. Think of
Oh, never mind, you could never
guess. But I heard Just the other day
■that somebody had picked Dr. A. T.
Spalding as Polly Peachtree. Poor
Brother Spalding, to be thus ma
ligned!
Anyhow, I am proud to say, as I am
writing this, that nobody has ever so
much as breat^d a hint to me that I
jam suspected of being Polly Peach
tree.
Peachtree a Man! A woman whom
I have every reason to regard as a
dear, dear friend of mine sailed sweet
ly up to a certain man the other day
and hailed him as Polly Peachtree.
"You are, you know you are," she
said archly, as if that settled it.
And, oh, I heard her! Then I went
home and had an old-fashioned cry
for the sake of my feminine pride.
It was quite an exquisite grief that
came over me to know that somebody
thinks T write or talk or think like a
Man. Oh, dear
Kind friends, believe me. T am the
most Ferninihe creature alive. I arn
really of the old-fashioned school of
Femininity, a regular clinging vine.
I have fainted on occasions. I haven t
been converted to the slit skirt—that
is, not much of a slit.
But enough of my wall. There Is a
funny side to this. The man who
my friend said was Polly is about the
only man who knows who I really am.
And he wasn’t exactly flattered when
he was called Polly.
"To think that anybody should pic
ture me writing or thinking this wom
an stuff!" he growled.
I HARDLY know whether I am sane
or not from this run of Christmas
shopping. I set my mind to get
this for Sally, and when I come to
the counter where such articles are
sold, th© pretty girl behind says to
me: "\^© ar© out of that" and "We
will have a fresh supply to-morrow.
Come back and I will love to sell you
then." That is th© hard part of it.
You have to go back, not once, but
time and again, and you wear your
self out getting nothing. I hear a lot
of people saying that they are sim
plifying their Christmas gifts, but
somehow when the great day cornea l
always feel bad when I find that
someone has sent me something much
nicer than I planned for her. That’s
the most miserable feeling in the
world.
I enjoy making personal things for
the girls, but how to please the men!
They grumble about everything. I
heard one man the other day on the
subject of Christmas shopping. He
said he has ceased going home to
luncheon, as he is sure to find his wife
and daughters out. and when at night
fall they return from town so tired
they can hardly drag their feet into
the dining room, the only topic of
conversation is what they ar© buying,
O UR own Tracy I/Engle is making
quite a hit in the dramatic
world. Sh« took the part of
Beau Brummel In the play of that
name presented recently at Wellesley
by the dramatic club. From reading
the papers I gather she made an
excellent Brummel, bringing out to
perfection the refinement, airy graces,
superb self-confidence and lordly
manners of the Beau. In fact, the
audience wept real tears at the death
of Beau Brummel, thereby showing
Tracy’s artistic and convincing qual
ity of acting. She is a remarkable
girl and does well what she under
takes to do at all. With her natural
born talent for things pertaining to
the stage there Is no wonder that she
completely overwhelmed her hearers
on this occasion.
she would show the people here some
sights—and she did! More than they
are accustomed to seeing. However,
her slippers were exquisite with their
heels of rhinestones embedded in the
purple satin, and everything was as it
should be. What more could we ask?
A ND now that we are discussing
Identity, and setting ourselves
right, gues.4 who Is another
blissfully innocent person they ha vs
accused of be*- Polly 4, You couldn’t
L m-
erucss r.irh* M M *
P INK roses! Have you ever won
dered why I so constantly speak
of them? One person has decid
ed that it must be my favorite fipwer,
and mighty glad I was when up came
the loveliest box of them one day
last week. But it wasn’t my birth-
N OW, I am mad. Downright an
gry. And at the same time
there is a pang in my feminine
heart that is half sad and half re
sentful. Oh, Sister Emmeline across
the seas, condole with me!
They have called me a Man. P/ ^ \
when she was beautifully gowned in I see that purple gown at a rec ent
a Larisse model of gold and blue bro- I function that one of the visiting
cade chiffon, the drapery of the skirt I women wore? She must have thought.
Continued on Page 4, Column L
■jo 4