Sunday Post - 29.12.1940, Blaðsíða 3

3
SUNDAY POST
i
w
NEW PLAYER FOR THE R.A.F. TEAM.
hen it was announced that an American Squadron of the
R.A.F. was being formed.
Personal Glimpses
♦
Mark twain
People who claim to know say
that I smoke the worst cigars
in the warld. But observe what
superstition, assisted by a man’s
reputation, will do. One night
I was to have 12 friends to
supper, one af them as notorious
for easily cigars as I was for
cheap and devilish ones. I called
at his house and when no one
was looking borrowed a double
handful of his very choicest ci-
gars, which cost him 40 cents
a piece and bore red-and-gold
labels in sign of their nobility.
I remojed the labels and put
the cigars in the box of my favo-
rite brand — a brand which those
people all knew, and which
cowed them completely.
At the end of supper, when
cigars were offered, they took
them, lit them, and struggled
with them in dreary silence for
a short time. Then they made
excuses and filed out, treading
on one another's heels with in-
decent eagerness. In the morning
I found all the cigars between
the door and the front gate, ex-
cept one — which lay in the plate
of the man from whom I had
cabbaged the lot. He told me
kind of cigar to smoke.
— Samuel Clemens, What Is
Man? (Harper).
GEORGES CLEMENCAU
One day in a little village in
khe East Indies, I noticed a little
statuette, and said to the dealer,
afterward that some day I would
get shot for giving people that
“I like your statuette. How much
is it?”
..Because it’s you,” he answer-
ed, ”75 rupees.”
“Because it’s I,” I answered,
“I offer you 45 rupees for it.”
He raised his hand to heaven.
“Forty-five rupees! You’re mak-
ing fun of me. What if anyone
happened to hear of it?”
“Forty-five repees,” I said.
Then he made a fine gesture
of indignation. “Impossible. I’d
rather give it to you.”
“Agreed!” I took the statuette,
stuffed it into my pocket, and
said, “You are extraordinarily
kind, and I thank you. But it is
quite evident that this gift can
only come from a friend to a
friend. Consequently you won’t
take it amiss if I in turn make
you a gift.”
( “Naturally mot.”
“Well, here are 45 rupees to
Use in good works.”
Star Straighteners.
----»---
When a player making 35 doll-
ars a week on Broadway is cata-
pulted into a Hollywood contract
at 3000 dollars a week, he often
can’t look after his business, or
— with relatives, taxes, obliga-
tory charities — even live on
his new salary. So a new busin-
ess has sprung up — manage-
ment companies which do every-
thing for their clients and make
it possible for them to forget
home, business and personal wor-
ries. The star turns over his pay
checks, and the firm works out a
scientific budget and makes him
stick to it. If he wants to throw
a party which will run 400 doll-
ars over the weekly budget, they
say no; and since the company
has control of the money, he
can’t do anything about it.
The company takes care of all
bills and investments, and does
the hiring and firing of help. By
getting prices from various dea-
lers, they save a great deal of
money on purchases. They arrange
with a dog-feeding service for
daily deliveries of Fido’s diet.
Much of their time goes, to look-
ing after the star’s relatives. Any-
body in Hollywood who isn’t
keeping half a dozen families is
really not a star.
Personal expenses of the client
are rigidly restricted, often being
as low as 50 dollars a week
out of a salary of 2000 dollars.
Yet when it comes to humoring
their clients (within the budget)
the management boys will go
to all lengths. For Mae West
they secured a “tall Japanese
chauffeur, with a pleasant count-
enance who did not wear glass-
es“. For another client they found
a first-edition Model T Ford for
a birthday gift to a friend, and
they once met a"' hasty night call
for five Boston bulldogs. The
management concerns are a cross
between a father confessor and
Simon Degree, but their service
may put an end to the spectacle
of oncegreat stars struggling for
work as extras.
He took them, and we parted,
enchanted with each other. —
Georges Clemenceau, by Jeon
Martet (Longmans Green).
SAMUEL GOLDWYN.
Samuel Goldwyn and his ace
director, William Wyler, can-
not get along either with, or
without, each other. Twice Wy-
ler has walked out on Goldwyn
in the middle of a picture, and
twice Goldwyn has called him
back. Now, when the two fiery
personalities confer over im-
portant problems, each depos-
its on the desk before them a
$100 bill- The one who raises
his voice first forfeits the mo-
ney. It works.
DWIGHT WHITNEY
MORROW.
The late Dwight Morrow,
who was very absent-minded,
was once reading earnestly on
a train when the conductor
asked for his ticket. Frantically
Mr. Morrow searched for it. *
“Never mind, Mr. Morrow,”
the conductor said. “When you
find it, mail it to the company.
I’m certain you have it.”
“I know I have it,” exploded
Mr. Morrow. “But what I want
to know is, where in the world
am I going?”
WILLIAM LYON PHELPS.
Having to speak at a public
dinner in Chicago, I found my
place at that pillory of torment,
the speakers’ table;’ and there,
seeing a magnificent man in
evening dress, I gave him my
name and grasped his hand
with what cordiality I could
command.
“I’m the headwaiter,. sir,” he
replied.
“Shake hands again, old
man,” I cried. “You don’t know
how I envy you!”
A Happy New Year.
BRYTINN.

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