AN EINSTEIN STORY

King Country Chronicle, Volume XXXI, Issue 4951, 4 February 1937, Page 7

AN EINSTEIN STORY

I was strolling down the Avenue de l'Opera, Paris, about four years ago when I noticed the magnificent head of Dr. Einstein among the clients of a sidewalk restaurant (writes Pierre van Paasen, in the Toronto "Star.") I went over and saluted him. "Please sit down," he said, and a worried look overspread his face. "I am in trouble. I have lost my way. I just intended to take a stroll around the block and be back in about a quarter of an hour. Frau Einstein and I are to go to a luncheon with the Prime Minister (M. Briand) at 12. I have walked round the block three times, but I can't find my hotel." "What's the name of your hotel, Herr Professor?" I asked. "That's just the trouble," he replied. "I don't know the name of the hotel. How will I ever find my way back?" He looked at me with a mute appeal. "We'll find Frau Einstein," I said, and beckoned a policeman from the sidewalk. "Will you call up the prefecture," I said, "and ask the bureau of registration of foreigners at what hotel Professor Einstein is staying? This is the professor here. He has forgotten the name of his hotel, and he must call for his wife in five minutes' time to go to the Foreign Ministry." The astounded gendarme sought a telephone, and shortly he came back and told us: "Monsieur Einstein is stayr ing at the Hotel du Louvre, voila"— saying which, he pointed across the street. Dr. Einstein had been sitting looking at his hotel for the best part of an hour. "I don't remember crossing the street," he muttered as I led him back to his distracted wife, and an excited hotel manager and staff.