Local Bontons Awhirl At Season's Peak

Social Tidings, and a Soupcon of Tabbies'Gossip Among Elite of Gotham

QUIDNUNC

TRULY, it would seem that Nature herself is in gala mood—for never has the sun shone brighter, never the sky been more cerulean than in these weeks of social gaiety which betoken the height of the "season". All the world and his wife, all the gilded youth and the budding flowers of debdom are constantly preening themselves for the innumerable affairs—charitable, civic, prandial and post-prandial—to which they must lend cachet, and the days are simply flitting by, each crowded hour pulsing with enjoyment. But pulse they never so fleetly, Quidnunc is ever on the qui vive to record each sauntering, each maundering, each tidbit of tabbies' gossip in his society column; and so, may inspiration lend wings to his pen. (How naughty of me to say "pen" when I am really using a typewriter; but ah, poetic license!)

The regular meeting of the Thought-a-Week Club was held last Tuesday at the penthouse apartment of its president, Mrs. Priestly Pilcher (of whom a new studio portrait may be found on the opposite page), the subject of debate on this occasion being; Shall We Gather at the River?—a discussion of personal immortality. Mrs. J. W. B. Piddington, Miss Olive Bloomer and Mrs. Arthur Jarvis Toomis were to have read papers on the following topics, respectively; Life, Mrs. Piddington; Death, Miss Bloomer; The Hereafter, Mrs. Toomis. Owing to a slight misunderstanding, however, the three ladies were obliged to confess that they had not prepared any papers, as they were (erroneously) under the impression that the subject of debate was not personal immortality, but personal immorality —a theme with which the ladies were, unfortunately, unfamiliar.

Mrs. Pilcher, the president, then saved the day by reading an extemporaneous paper on Life, Death AND The Hereafter, winning the prize for debate, which was a delightful sweet-grass basket in which as president (and also historian) of the Club, she may keep her pressclippings.

Following the bestowal of the prize, Mrs. Piddington, in lieu of the topic assigned to her, gave a short talk on Pins and Pincushions of the Jacobite Period, and Mrs. Toomis told entertainingly of Dried Fruits and Their Uses. Tea was served.

Shocking Double Entendre

What is the haut monde coming to? Quidnunc sometimes asks himself. Doubtless those of us who still adhere, in thought and deed, to the days "when knighthood was in flower" are just a wee bit hard to please, but in all conscience, the behavior of some of our "best people" leaves much to be desired; and the recent appalling blunder of one of our most gently bred and auriferous youths who resides (when at home!) •Vanity Fair's Own Social Correspondent. not a thousand miles from Gramercy Park, is an alarming example of this general looseness. This young "gentleman" issued invitations to an old-fashioned "bundle party" to be held at his chic bachelor quarters early last week. Speculation was rife among the elite as to what exactly was meant by a "bundle party", but it was generally supposed that it would be an amusing "shower" or "surprise package" affair of some kind. What was the shocked dismay of the socially prominent guests, therefore, upon arriving at the bachelor quarters in question, to have their host announce that "bundle" in this sense did not mean a "surprise package", but meant "to retire to one's couch, fully dressed, in the company of a member of the opposite sex (or, as some of the more sensitive souls among the gathering, requested him to put it, 'opposite persuasion')". He assured them that he had it on good authority that it was an old New England custom, and the source of much innocent merriment, and he invited those in doubt to look it up then and there in the lexicon. Confusion was then the order of the day, and there were several spirited exchanges, ending in the departure of most of the guests. 'Tis true, it was done in jest, but 'twas a sorry one; and truly, this misguided celibate would do well to ascertain the calibre of his associates before regaling them in such a fashion as might well be described as the tiniest bit "out of the way." A touch of melancholy is added to the whole unfortunate contretemps by the fact that the madcap youth but recently plighted his troth to one of the fairest flowers in the ranks of Gotham's debutantes who, happily, was not present at the affair to witness her fiance's social debacle.

And, speaking of engagements, the approaching Gilliard-Prendergast nuptials were signalized this week by a kitchen utensils "shower" tendered at the home of Mrs. Arthur Jarvis Toomis for her charming niece, Gladys Gilliard (daughter of THE T. T. B. Gilliards of Park Avenue and "Idlewylde," Bar Harbor) —whose parents, it will be remembered, recently announced her betrothal to one of Mayfair's most dashing celibates, Oliver Hazard Prendergast, Jr., of 1212 Gramercy Park.

What is the name of the "lady" with whom a dashing young blood, recently betrothed, spends his hours when away from his affianced bride? Suffice it to say that they are passing many evenings in his bachelor quarters, where their wassail and revelry make the echoes ring in quiet old Gramercy Park. His conduct cannot be exactly described as a bolt from the blue, for he is notoriously a "rake"; as for the young woman concerned (a divorcee who pretends to great friendship with the bride-to-be!)

Feted

Mrs. "Fifi" Fullardine has recently returned from her third visit to Paris in quest of marital freedom. The orchidaceous "Fifi", who may always be found until the wee, sma' hours at the smarter night-clubs and restaurants, comes honestly by her sporting blood, her maternal grandpapa being the famous "horsey"Henry ("Stirrups") Gumbs she is doubtless suffering from the heritage given her by her maternal grandpapa, a high-living and "horsey" gent.

Maternity in the Bud?

Mrs. J. W. B. Piddington held a rummage sale and get-together meeting at her penthouse apartment on Friday last, to raise money for the purchase of uniforms for the Mayfair Chapter of Girl Scouts, of which Mrs. Piddington is regional director. Before opening the sale, Mrs. Piddington addressed the potential mothers of the Junior League in a common-sense chat, her subject being; What We Learn from the Mother Cheetah. The sale then proceeded merrily, and the sum accrued therefrom proved to be almost enough to buy the necessary uniforms for the worthy maidens.

It will be recalled that Mr. Arthur Jarvis Toomis recently offered to donate uniforms to the Mayfair Chapter of Girl Scouts. His offer was declined, however, as it transpired that he had an advertising project in mind whereby the name of the product manufactured by Mr. Toomis's firm was to be embroidered in scarlet letters across the back of each uniform, and it was felt that this scheme was not quite in keeping with the spirit of the organization. Mr. Toomis is vice-president of a company manufacturing El Seductivo cigars.

Dahlia Smartly Dubbed

Now that Winter has given a final toss of his hoary locks, preparatory to departure, an outstanding event of the week was the Flower Show, which lured many matrons of the "upper ten" (and a sprinkling of their humbler sisters) to its dewy bowers.

A special feature of the Show was the ceremony which took place in (Continued on page 7⅛) the booth presided over by Mrs. Priestly Pilcher, when the new mauve dahlia, hitherto nameless, was presented to the garden world and christened. The on dits have been looking forward with no little malice to this occasion, for there have been rumors of a sprightly battle among the ladies instrumental in presenting the interesting bloom to the attention of our flower-lovers, over the question of selecting a name for the novel plant. Mrs. Pilcher was desirous of calling it "Hint o' Passion", but it was felt in some quarters that this title was too worldly. Be that as it may the ceremony went off without a hitch, and with due impressiveness, the dahlia was christened Lena J. Toomis, in honor of Mrs. Arthur Jarvis Toomis, who is well-known as the President of the Society of Friends of Hardy Perennials.

ASK QUIDNUNC

DEAR SIR; Please settle the following discussion. A. says that the two children, present issue of Mr. and Mrs. Vanderbilt Seem, are first cousins of the W. Atkinson Seems by virtue of the fact that it was not the W. Atkinson, but the Vanderbilt Seems who were related to the O. P. Dorrits, who subsequently married, and went to live in Paris. B. claims that the kiddies are second cousins of the Seems through kinship with a former aunt, who was not living at the time. Which is correct?

C. B. B.

Neither is correct. The children of Mr. and Mrs. Vanderbilt Seem are a law unto themselves, and are not related to anyone else whatsoever, except insofar as a dubious trace of kinship always exists (to those "in the know") between the Seems, the Dorrits and the socially rigorous Cassbines. This was the upshot of that calamitous marriage (if one can call it that) between Preston Cassbine and the notorious "lady" who formerly shone amid the tinsel glitter of Broadway, but who, on Park Avenue proved to be, socially, a negligible quantity. Although the ill-fated union terminated in the divorce court, Preston has been constantly seen in night-clubs, accompanied by the "lady" in question—and sometime both, alas, a little "the worse for wear". Although it is all, of course, strictly "under the rose," you can see the precarious position in which the Seem children may find themselves upon arriving at man's estate.

DEAR QUIDNUNC; What ever has become of that gallant courtier, Brigadier-General George ("Pinky") Bowish, who used to lead cotillions when I was a very young girl?

SOUVENIR.

I am afraid, my dear Souvenir, that the less said about Mr. Bowish (he has dropped the courtesy title) the better. He is little more than a bird of passage these days, flitting over Europe from spa to spa in search of that elusive will o' the wisp, a robust liver. And a little birdie whispers that "Pinky" does not flit alone.

O tempora, O mores!

DEAR SIR,Are the following people socially prominent? . . .

PERPLEXED.

Certainly NOT. Out of courtesy, I refrain from printing the list of names you have given me. Suffice it to say that the persons you mentioned are of the very lowest social order.

IN this column, weekly, Quidnunc will answer questions pertaining to society, old New York, family relationships, etiquette, etc.—all queries, in fact, except those relating to religion, election returns, professional weight-lifting, total length of of government canals, number of moose in U. S., jury duty, bookbinding, sinus trouble or weaving.

Continued on page 74

Continued from page 44

The walls of the booth were festooned with pretty arrangements of Lena J. Toomis for the occasion, and many were the tributes bestowed upon that gracious matron by the speakers of the day, who referred to her again and again as "the good fairy of the garden world". Mrs. Toomis herself spoke charmingly on; "What I Saw on my Walk in the Woods".

And, speaking of that gracious matron, one must really doff one's topper to Mrs. Toomis, whose musicale last Sunday at her palatial Fifth Avenue home was indeed a "feast of reason and a flow of soul". The affair was in honor of her niece, Miss Gladys Gilliard, whose engagement to Oliver Hazard Prendergast, Jr., has already been mentioned in these columns. The guests were delightfully entertained on this occasion by the singing of Signor Manuelo di Manuelo, who rendered "A Faery Song", followed by a group of humorous numbers including; "Now Mummy's away, I Will Put Thumb-prints on the Nursery Wall" and "Pat and Mike Go up in an Aeroplane"—which songs soon had his audience in gales of laughter.

Mrs. "Fifi" Fullardine, who attended the musicale in honor of her friend, Gladys Gilliard, was seized with a fit of giddiness at the height of the affair, and escorted to her home by Oliver Hazard Prendergast, Jr.

A Rift in the Lute?

Really, really, it is astonishing how many of our fashionable young women are reverting to the state of physical delicacy which prevailed in our grandmothers' day! Vapours, fainting fits, pale cheeks and tremulous voices are the signs of the times.

Is it truly the revival of Victorian queasiness? Or is it, Quidnunc sometimes asks himself, merely an unmistakable symptom of the good oldfashioned "hang-over"? Qui sait?

Rehearsals are going on apace for the "Gotham Gaieties", to be given for the benefit of the Little Soldier Movement Among Unmarried Mothers. The latest addition to the cast is Mrs. Priestly Pilcher, who will talk on "Thoughts I Have Culled from the Study of Browning", and will also give a reading from her own book of poems, "Stark Star".

A Grand March and Pageant will be a feature of the entertainment in which the following characters were to have participated;

Mrs. J. W. B. Piddington as Pioneer Woman

Mrs. Arthur Jarvis Toomis as the Spirit of Needless Pain

Mrs. "Fifi" Fullardine as Lady Godiva.

After several rehearsals, however, a slight re-adjustment of roles was announced, owing to the difficulty of securing a tractable horse for Lady Godiva. As it now stands, Mrs. "Fifi" Fullardine will assume the role of Pioneer Woman formerly entrusted to Mrs. J. W. B. Piddington, while Mrs. Piddington will appear in the Pageant as Eve, the Mother (in costume). Lady Godiva has been abandoned.

Signor Manuelo di Manuelo and Mrs. Priestly Pilcher will present a tableau entitled; "Whither?"; and Miss Gladys Gilliard will enact with her fiance, Oliver Hazard Prendergast, Jr., a series of living pictures depicting "Lovers Throughout the Ages".

The Old, Old Story

Dame Rumor hath it that the story given out regarding the embarrassing "situation" noted not long ago during rehearsals for a certain charity affair was not strictly based on the facts of the case. A little bird whispers that the behavior of a certain young "lady" who was to portray a rather risque role in the entertainment was such as to affect the morale of the other players, notably that of a well-known gilded youth whose engagement was recently announced to one of Gotham's prominent "debbies".

It appears that when the young man failed, for the seventh time, to put in an appearance for rehearsals with his fiancee in the series of living pictures which they were to present together, inquiry was made by a number of anxious dowagers as to the cause thereof; and it was found that he had been visiting the dressing-room of the aforementioned young "lady" (whose three divorces have long .been tidbits for the tabbies) more often than was deemed wise. A hasty re-arrangement ensued whereby, in lieu of the dazzling but rather questionable character which she was to portray, the dashing divorcee was given a role less alluring to members of the opposite sex; and a reticent story was given out to the effect that it was on account of the dangers which the "lady" might incur in an equestrian role, that the change had been made.

All of which is very pretty. And yet —when one realizes The Truth, that the whole contretemps was due to the illicit peccadilloes of certain ill-advised members of this sorry triangle, does it not seem a pity that the entire blame should be laid upon the patient and weary shoulders of "man's best friend" —the horse?

EDITOR'S NOTE: The photographs in this article are reproduced from Animals Looking at You, by the courtesy of the Viking Press.