Life — March 9, 1922 — page 9: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Miss Margie, when T met your horse | fell in love with him, of C se. And cnvied him the bur- den fair, He carried with so proud aul air. And that he liked me, too, the brute essed with his foam- tlecked salute. Would that our erst- while friend, Lord C.* Were half as fond of W. E. G. He sent me the poem ox of my favorite cigars. I read it shortly afterwards to George Custard, who was being men- tioned for Poet Laureate at the time. He committed suicide on the following day. I icel that I ought to say something about my first experiences, if only to show you how much your great country means to me and how keenly it seems to appreciate me. It is quite over- whelming. Your Lord Mayor tele- graphed the freedom of the city from his favorite watering-place. Of course, I should have taken the freedom, any- way —Margarine alwa does !—but I was glad to have it officially. I wired the |.ord Mayor at once, paraphrasing the old jingle we used to sing in the nursery at Glen Spoof: “Come back, Hylan, thrice mayor of Manhattan.” I received an answer directly: “Only twice so far, but thanks.” ina Chamberlain who had outrageously de- serted Gladstone and left him to walk home alone from the Queen’s garden party. “This is an outrage! Apparently they don’t intend to take ’em off!” “Watercress is an irregular horse. The big ball given in my honor by the combined Vanderbilt families was really stupendous. There were a thou- sand guests present and fully as many others who had not been invited but who crowded in simply to see me. It is always that way. My London friends know this, and when I am coming, they only invite half the number they would like, but the poor Vanderbilts were evidently caught entirely off their guard, I rode Watercress from the Ritz up Fifth Avenue, which looked like Cor- onation, which it was, in a way. Mar- garine the First, Queen of America! That sounds rather well, doesn’t it? Between dense, cheering crowds I rode directly into the hall of the palace, as I think you call it. Big barn of a place that it is, it was packed to suffocation. “Is there room for Margarine?” I cried gaily, and they quickly made way for me. It That Fluffy Bobbed Hair “Will you young ladies be kind enough to remove your hats?” He has kissed Mr. Gladstone” was quite like home. many of your rich young women, who have ur ried and divorced of our best titles, came up and spoke to me. There was Lucy Trevor, who was Lady Axminster before Axminster chucked her and ran away with Mlle. Nitouche, and oh, lots of others,—and all so charming. Say what you will, England gives them something. Of course, they give England some- thing, too.. I am not forgetting that. And then my trip to Washington! It was a wonderful ex- perience. The train-guard sat on the edge of my chair and held my hand most of the way. Of course, he hadn't the slightest idea who I was. Just before we reached Washington I spoke to him. 1 think he would have proposed, but just then we reached the station and I w him no more. And your Harding! What a man. I was tremendously impressed with the shape of his ears. I sat with him in his private office for two hours while some diplomats cooled their heels in the anteroom. We talked over the Con- ference and I cleared up several things that Balfour had messed up fright- fully. Poor Arthur: he has well-fitting gaiters, but no intelligence. His tailor has made him what he though as I said one day to Lord Wainscoat, “That is not very much, of course, if he had only married an intelligent woman!” some “Certainly!” comicbooks.com