The Bismarck Tribune Newspaper, December 12, 1928, Page 12

THE BISMARCK TRIBUNE. By ALLENE SUMNER (NEA Service Writer) Washington, Dec. 12.—It may not be epochal news, but—my first inter- view with Calvin Coolidge, president of these United States of America, brought forth the fact that he had hair on his pin-striped blue serge suit—two hairs, to be exact—that his hair is red (so were the ones on his suit)—that his sense of humor has been most underrated, and that one can imagine him a swell wise- cracker if freed from a few inhibi- tions due to the dignity of his office. “Interviewing” the president is not exactly and exclusive affair. The fed begins with a doughty uni- formed policeman at the door of the executive wing. He very politely opens the door but he fixes one with a glittering eye that says “thus far shalt thou go and no farther till know whence you came and why.” He is quite accustomed to the answer, “I want to see the presi- dent.” He hears that several hun- dred times a day. He separates the sheep and the goats—those who are armed with letters from their con- gressmen and are to shake the presi- dential paw at high noon and those who can’t just see him anyhow. Proper identification, registration in the press book, and introduction to the chairman of the White House re- porters, gives one permission to at-| tend a press conference, which is as near to “interviewing” the president as even the loftiest come—and they say that the president has pointed out from time to time that he is | under no obligation to be even that | accommodating, and that if the| newspaper boys and girls don’t stop, yowling for more and bigger favors he may do as his predecessor Wilson did and not even see them for five minutes at a time twice a week. Pat McKenna, chief door-man and sergeant-at-arms for the executive offices, claps his hands much in the manner of Aladdin summoning the genii of the lamp. Three minutes past 12. Three minutes late. The 30 or more reporters, all of the male persuasion but your humble author, begin surging forward like lambs to the slaughter. They are strangely silent. One senses that this is no time for wassail and rev- a e crowd pushes into the inner sanctum—the president’s private office. I find myself bumping the famous desk of the nation— orderly. I note that the re arranged in a design on a tray, and that even the business | pins follow a pattern on their stand- ard. Beis There is a flint arrowhead, a hunk of sparkling mineral, a pile of New York newspapers, some pens and pencils and erasers and baskets for | presidential desk. ! office. correspondence, a small flag on the desk, and a larger and beautiful silk flag on the floor at the right-hand corner of the desk. Some rather in- expensive book ends of the Parthenon hold a few books and pamphlets. Somehow that desk humanizes the president. It symbolizes him as a working man, an office drudge who must get to his desk on time every morning, who has his clearcut def- inite routine work ready for him— just another man with a job. The sandy-haired man behind the huge desk does not look up as the pack falls in. The oval-shaped room looks out through three French bay windows into the garden behind. The huge windows form a niche in which is the presidential desk. The walls are of green velour matching the two- shaded green china lamp on the A charcoal of a head of Lincoln, a map, and the flag are the only extraneous decor- ations in the room. — Everything focuses to that desk and the man be- hind it. It_is a room fit for a De Mille -a rather garish, boudoirish, nesslike room for a president's One keeps feeling that he should leave that desk, open the French windows, take a John Gilbert pose before the stone steps leading down into the garden, register ro- mance. But— The man in the blue suit ing. He reads some questions fore him. His answers bristle with the Yankee twang that says “aout” and “daown” and “taown.” “If I had wanted to give you any- thing about this I would have given ‘it out a long time ago, and until I do give it out there'll be nothing out about it.” No argument. Pencils scratched. Once in a while a sly smile and a— “Better ask Congress about that j—they know more about that than the president.” A touch of sly humor at the end. The president removes his shell-rim glasses, holds them deftly twixt two fingers, and opines: “Well, you'll be busy with big news in Congress today. Guess that'll give you copy. .You’ll need me more some other day.” “oe A terse nod. pack scuttles out. a private word of greeting. isn’t done. Turning, one sees the redheaded president really. standing in the triple window, looking into the sun- drenched back yard. Then he glances at the clock. Twelve-ten. A long line of people are waiting in the corridor to shake hands, so that they can add one more presidential paw grip to their collection. Dismissal. The None stays for It just 0 ee | | IN NEW YORK | —_—_—_______—_-_—~ New York, Dec. 12.—All New York dogs, thank heaven, are not pampered Pekingese. Nor do they all wear jeweled collars and sleep on monogrammed robes. To be sure, @ great many of them do—quite too many, if you ask me. ° But there are New York dogs that can be as devoted to their masters as the dogs of Kalamazoo, for in- stance. True, a New York dog may not be quite so well acquainted with its master as a dog in Muncie, Ind., or Columbia, S. C., where masters have yards for dogs to play in and time and opportunity to form close attachments. The play life of the Manhattan dog is greatly limited. On those routined occasions when a New York dog does get into the outdoors, he’s held tightly in leash and his inclination to romp is not encouraged. He’s supposed to sur- render to strict discipline. Also his walks are very likely to be taken in the custody of the house janitor, the maid, or a small boy trying to jearn a quarter. ‘There's no particular reason why 2 dog should love a New York apart- ment yet, day upon day, you'll read stories in the papers of how some dog played a hero in a big apartment house fire. eee But the story that inspired this particular contribution to dogology, concerns a police dog. The police dog is owned by Konrad Giaeene\ci, the writer of gypsy tales. Bercovici was driving to his Fifth avenue apartment from his Connec- ticut country place. The dog was in the car. There was a sudden crash ... the machine upset ,. . the dog was crushed and Bercdv was to the hospital where he lay, in a serious condition, for sev- eral days. Meanwhile, the usual curious crowd had thought the dog dead. They notified the health au- thorities to come and get the ani- mal. But when the authorities ar- rived, the dog wasn't there. He had lived, and although suffering fre 1 his hurts, had managed to drag him- self away. 3 A couple of days ago, a phone c=ll came to the precinct police station. “Say,” began a voice. “There's been a dog acting mighty queer around here lately. He’s been walk- ing around the same spot. We've all tried to feed him, but he refuses to take food. And he won’t take water either, He’s starving to death and he seems to be hurt and there’s noth- ing any of us can do about it.” And so they found the author's dog, |.aunting the scene of the wreck waiting for his master to appear; waiting and looking and refusing to eat, drink or sleep; just going about in circles near the site of the wreck. And this, it seems to me, is as much devotion as you could ask of a dog—say in Oklahoma, Kansas or Nebraska? wee * __ The composer of three of the most intriguing songs to be heard on Broadway is a millionaire who writes music as a hobby. His name is Cole Porter, and he’s to be found most of the time on the Riviera or in a Ven- ice villa, He generally appears in Manhattan once each season with a new crop of melodies, always of a high calibre. New York theatrical folk, when in Europe, generally ac- cept his hospitality—and a few have the good sense to use his composi- tions. This year he wrote the song hits for Irene Bordoni. The money received for his successes would be considered a comfortable income to most folk—but Porter already has all the money he needs. if GILBERT SWAN. (Copyright, 1928, NEA Service, Inc.) rs | Decisions of j { Supreme Court | Anna Hafey, et al, tiffs and appellants, vs. Robert Hafey and the Northern Trust company, a corpora- tion, defendants and respondents. 1. A general guardian is vested with power over the person and property of the word (sec. 4463 C. L. 1913); and such guardian is author- ized to appear for and represent the ward Il actions and proceedings unless nN 5 yl tog ated has been appoint for that purpose. (Sec. By 2 C. L, 1913.) pene : 2. A party to a judicial proceeding who has received and retains the fruits thereof is generally precluded from asserting that such proceeding is invalid. 3. In the ii it case one H. had Policy of life insurance payable to ils of the pol- tor a fod estate did not distribute such ie wlieg the heirs at law of the insured but j| the avails of the life insurance pol- | baugh, Fargo, N, Dak. A. W. Fowler, __ | Ellchdale, N. Bale: stiorneys for de: le at for de- respondents. TON CARR = f HE CERTAINLY PULLED THE BOTTOM OUT OF OF CACTUS AND SAGE BRUSH! OUR CHRISTMAS YT ELEMENTS = MINDING NEITHER WIND NOR STORM, DISREGARDING OBSTACLES YEAR $i ON~ ON~ON~ 0.000: ACROSS YHE MES IT'S FUNNY THAT I AENER NOTICED | TAIS STAMP ON TAS POST CARD THAT OSCAR'S SPOSED TO HANE SEAT FROM ARABIA--- HAT Z CANT UNDERSTAND IS LOW COULD A POST CARD FROM ARABIA LANE A UNITED STATES STAMP ON IT! | MOM’N POP ’ Pop Goes Xmas Shopping ; “By Cowan 1 YOU HINEN'T TIME FOR) NO! DONT DD A DEMONSTRATION NOW “THAT, MQ.GETTER,, MR.GUNN, May I CALL AT TM GWING MY YOUR HOME THIS EVENING ) WIFE_A CAR FOR AND SHOW YOU WHAT / CHRISTMAS ANDI THIS CAR CAN D0 2 KNOW IT. S0 YOu PHONE ME AND TLL MEET YOU ON THE CORNER OF CEDAR AND PINE HOT SPUOS' WERE BOTH DOWN EARLY, READY FOR ANOTHER RUSH,EH, GU22 7 GO AHEAD 5 @ND SHOOT icy which he has so expended. Some 4 t of the district | fendants mo inment endan court of Dickey County, Wolfe, J., age Lege nya appeal. - irmed. ‘ Orinioe ef the court by’ Chistian- i *Biedeell, J. Soncerrinigy Dak steornes ov for piaiatift and ap- % lor Is and ap- pellants. and it g z & " Pleree, Tenneson, Cupler & Stam- in oe rls fad ly tached WHAT WE CQULO WAVE DONE WITH THAT THE GUMPS—SOS GEE = WOULDN'T Iv BE GREAT IF WE WAS > — REMEMBER YHE TIME HE PUT THE # 20,000.29 IN BILLS UNDER YOUR PLATE —= AND HOW HE USED Yo LIKE Yo SURPRISE US‘ALL BY FILLING OUR POCKETS WITH SILVER DOLLARS — WILL. YOU EVER FORGET YE CHRISTMAS MORNING You FOUND THE #10,000,°2 IN YOUR STOCKING — ) CAN SEE THE EXPRESSION ON YOUR FACE YET — 1 WONDER IE ONCLE BIN. STILL MEBBE ME TOOK SOME UNITED STATES STAMPS WITH HIM== TLL ASK POP IF WE COULD DO _,, TAT! OH VES, MR. GETTER. OF -rD FORGOTTEN ALL ABOUT IT.TLL BE THERE IN FNE MINUTES - <1T'S JUST A LITTLE BUSINESS MATTER ‘AND TLL BE BACK IN HALF AN HOUR - EACH Dent 114 GONN® “THINK OP A NOVELTY SALES SPECIAL - ONE THAT'LL caTct PEoPLE’s EYES AN’ LURE’EM To GUR STORE - EINE! AN UA GONNA 00 OY PART, To! E'RINSTANCE,GO TAKE @ LOOK AT TH! SIGH \ POT IN TH WINDOW WELL, FER SoBBIN’ TA YER SELF! WHAT ® 0UMB STUNT! 4 5 & i i i Be 94 i ze a A BIG TRUNK AND FiLLIT WITH | GREE! AND GET OVE AS FAST nS List’ or WINGRY MOUTHS - AND WE NEED HIM, HUM , BUSINESS! BEEN: THAT: TUE MAN. HAD HIS SECRETARY CALL PoP HEN, Guzz! C'MERE @ 1 4 MINUTE! ! DURING CHRISTMAS SEASON OUR (/ =o MOY HAVE DON'T HANG BACKS K MOTHER . SECRETARIES AROUND OFFICES “TAKING \. DICTATION AT OCLOCK AT EIGHT NIGHT - [° \T LOOKS MIGHTY FUNNY “To ME — Doors WILL BE | ts |egrocment, ge the’ pare ment 4’ Free alten daring Set Be rentises. land wo tar ole ton te tan ae remove them, (Syllabus Arpeal eo the HOW TH’ HECK 00 Ya EXPECT Ta 4, |] DO MUCH BUSINESS IN AN HOUR! F AN’, @ HALE OL its court. 4 3. A. Cottey a | ia v To a ee ee ee