"A SWELL TIME"

Evening Post, Volume CXXVI, Issue 50, 27 August 1938, Page 19

"A SWELL TIME"

SHIRLEY TEMPLE VISITS

ENTERTAINED BY ROOSEVELTS

Mr. and Mrs. George F. Temple, of Hollywood, California, introduced their daughter, Miss Shirley Temple, to local society at Valkill Cottage, states a correspondent writing to the "New York Times" from Hyde Park, New York, on July 9. j Miss Temple is nine years old and j regarded as. not.altogether unknown' in Dutchess. County,, although she has usually vacationed. in Hawaii. She is on her first .trip East, and her nomi- j nal. hostess on .the ninth was Mrs. Franklin.£K Roosevelt. Actually, although the strict privacy of the party was enforced by State troopers at the estate entrance, it can be revealed on indubitable authority that the host and hostess were Curtis Roosevelt, (Buzzie) Dall, 8, and his eleven-year-old sister, Anna Eleanor, known to intimates as "Sistie." In fact, it can be made known with equal authority that a difference of opinion as to how to spend part of the time arose between Mrs. Roosevelt and her guest. The grandmother of Sistie and Buzzie let it be known that it was hot enough to go swimming, and she went swimming. Miss Temple declined, "because of my hair," she disclosed later, with significant terseness. TRANSCRIPT OF GREETINGS. The visiting party reached Poughkeepsie from New York at about noon,

and several hundred of the town's younger set were gathered curiously in New Market Street. Miss Temple waved a few mild "hellos" from the seat next to her father, who was driving, but mindful of her engagement, chose not to tarry. Following a sergeant of State troopers in an open car, the Temples continued to the dirt road leading to Valkill, bumping along it for two and a half miles. When they pulled up, Mrs. Roosevelt and the blond-haired Dalls were waiting. Here is what transpired, according to "The Times" exclusive interview with Miss Temple on her way out four hours later:— . "Hello," said Mrs. Roosevelt, waving. "Hello," said Sistie, waving. "Hello," said Buzzie, waving. Miss Temple was escorted from her car and those in the background had a chance to study her ensemble breathlessly. She wore a short-sleeved white sport shirt, crossed by diagonal tan straps holding up a pair of shorts of precisely the same shade of tan. Her hair was wrapped in a yellow bandana with green and scarlet figures. A thin band of gold encircled her left wrist. TALK RANGES WIDELY. The group proceeded to the sunny picnic grounds, getting acquainted on the way. The conversation, Miss Temple made plain, was extremely broad in scope. Pressed for details, she made it even plainer by insisting, "they said an awful lot." An excepted subject, however, it was learned, was movies. Miss Temple's reasons may well be surmised; she could hardly have wished to mar her debut here with shop talk. As for her new friends, it may be presumed they took that for granted. At any rate, the topic was taboo. Miss Temple remembei%i the picnic spread particularly well. "Lamb chops and potato chips and salad and ice cream and " she said. But here) there was a lapse and her eyes began to search the roof of the car which housed her half of the interview. (The other half had a foot on the runningboard and a head through the window.) Her mother, Mrs. Gertrude Temple, supplied "fresh raspberries" and Shirley sighed and smiled. Mrs. Roosevelt subsequently went swimming in a dark blue bathing suit, but that was all Miss Temple recalled of the aquatics. Considerable thought, and an expression like that of a man pondering where-did-I-see-that-face-before? were necessary before she hit upon, "Oh, my hair," as the explanation of her non-participation. Departure time approached and everybody crowded into two cars. When they jolted past Tenant Farmer Smith's cows into the main highway, more young people were waiting. Miss Temple smiled her prettiest, waved, and trilled "G'by." "G'by," "G'by." VISIT AT THE "BIG HOUSE." Mrs. Roosevelt, in the other car, also smiled and waved, but had nothing to say. Then someone yelled, " 'Ja have a nice party?" and she called back, "Ye-es." . The cars cut across another dirt road for a brief visit to the "big house," where Mrs. Roosevelt's husband lives when he is in town. It was nearly 5 o'clock when the Temple sedan came down the driveway again and paused at the shoulder of the road just long enough for Shirley—now standing in the rear, instead of sitting in the front seat —to discuss her afternoon. When she had remembered all she could, and one foot began to fidget against the base of the front seat, only one thing remained. Had she had a good time? She stopped fidgeting and gave the answer, like a child star whose director has just said, "Give it plenty of feeling." "A swell time," were the words, with the accent on the second one. Somehow it was difficult to disbelieve her. And when the car sped away, the biggest event of the current junior season here was a thing of the past.

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