SKYLINES.

Auckland Star, Volume LXVII, Issue 286, 2 December 1936, Page 3

SKYLINES.

FACES IN FOCUS. SALESMEN ON THEIR TOES. " OUTSTANDING HEROINE." (By a Special Correspondent.) NEW YORK, October 30. Baroness Eva Von Blixen-Finecke — tall, thin, lilonde, white-skinned, rosvcheeked, soft-eved, long-nosed, largemouthed. A ir.ajor attraction of the Long Island landscape for two months as she waited —now in shorts, now in slacks, occasionally in dazzling, sweeping dresses —for her 'plane to l)e made ready for a Transatlantic flight. Waiting, she said, is the hardest part. She did her waiting in the Aviation Country Club in Hicksville, a curious, squat little place reserved for the use of those Xortli Shore elite who own their own 'planes and fly them frequently. She saw the hurricane'two dayts before the rest of us, watched it buffet up the coast and out to sea and watched it blow itself out slowly. She was quiet about her anxiety and spoke in soft, slow tones. But once she said, "Oh, I do wish it would hurry itself up. 1 want to know to-morrow whether I shall be dead or drinking a cocktail in Stockholm."

How to "Register." Roehelle Hudson, the movie star, sucking a hopjie. A brief girl who lias learned to look as pretty as her photographs. She can't wait for the next instalment of a new Kathleen Xorris serial. "I know it will come out all right," she says, giggling, "but I'm dying to see how. That woman is smart." One thing about these movie people, l'oint a camera at them and all kidding stops. Even their laughter becomes serious, businesslike, and, without looking into a mirror, they can tell whether their expressions are registering or not, whether they are succeeding in putting over what they want. "You sort of get the feeling of how the muscles should set," Roehelle explained. "Forgot Your Teeth."

The epry old man on the eleventh floor of the apartment house at Seventyeighth Street and Park Avenue, face scrubbed and shining, hat shining, striped pants shining, frock coat shining, spats shining, every wrinkle shining and festive as he hummed and flicked his cane through the air. Down the hall a door opened and a blonde head jutted out and a voice said quietly, "Honey." "Yes?" called the old man. The blonde looked at the others waiting for the elevator. "Come here," she said. "What for?" he asked. "Oh, come here," she said, fighting to keep her words low. "What do you want?" he asked. "I want you to come here," she said patiently. "But why?" he asked. "Because," she boomed out, "you forgot your teeth." Business Enterprise. Salesmen have to be on their toes. They buy lists from everywhere—lists of new automobile owners, lists of stock purchasers, lists of college freshmen. The other day the boys at the Shubert office got very sore at a cosmetics salesman who offered 25 dollars for a list of the home addresses of the "Follies" girls. "If," he shouted on the way out. "the price is too low, I'll make it 30 dollars, but that's tlie rock top." And they watch the news, too, for "leads." Salesmen of all sorts clutter up the stoops of sweepstakes winners, prize-winners of one sort or another, frequently getting there before the reporters. They even look at the casting news printed in the newspaper, and, when an actor gets himself a job, his best bet is to change his address. And, of course, they listen to the radio. Harry Horlic-k found that out when he announced he was going to take a vacation. Starting that evening, the boys began the trek to his front door, offering vacation supplies which ranged | from a 240-dollar fishing reel (jewelled) to a 909-rlollar cabin on a lake. By the time he fought his way through to his vacation. Horlick needed one. The Girl Who Saved Them. Kathrvn van Horn, who saved Gerald Nixon, 12, and Ray Kelly, 10, from quite an accident by throwing herself in front of their sled as it raced downhill toward a speeding express train, visited town to collect 000 dollars from Kate Smith as a reward. She already has the Medal of the Army and Navy Legion of Valour as "the outstanding heroine of 1030."

She is a sweet, shy and pretty little girl of 12, and she said that since her feat life has been quite exciting. Everybody has been very nice to her, she said, except Ray and Gerald, the boys she saved. It seems they didn't want to be saved by any little old girl anyway, and that they could have steered out of the way of the train if she had just let them. But the real nub of the matter, Kathryn explained, is that they weren't allowed to coast on that hill in White Cottage, Ohio, and that they got "the whipping they deserved" for going on it. — (N.A.N.A.)