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\F you lunch with Elizabeth Taylor now it will , ) be on a haymound on back lot No. five and 'J you had better pass the sugar to the King because it’s his stall and he’s the host.
Since taking the hurdles with the King in “National Velvet” she seldom is seen in the studio commissary with Nibbles, the chipmunk who stands up on plates to lick down chocolate simdaes. Miss E. Taylor and mater now dine exclusively with horses on box lunches and choice alfalfa and only a few top bracket socialites, including Nibbles, have been invited guests, because hay is scarce and the King is haughty.
The horses picked Elizabeth their favorite to "win long before the movie bookies did and she, knowing what a privilege this is, is sticking by them.
When only a sparklet of three pirouetting around among English princesses, Elizabeth alone among the people on the Kent estate of her godfather, Victor Cazalet M.P., could ride Betty, a wild and misanthropic mare disdainful of the entire human race save Elizabeth, and so derelict in sense of duty toward the British Empire that one weekend she madly upended the historic person of Anthony Eden and tossed him ‘ humpty dumpty o’er the hedgerows.
Elizabeth was away that afternoon. When she returned the staff of sixty gardeners was striving vainly to round up Betty. Mr. Eden, the Empire’s Foreign Minister, had rounded himself up. In pure fancy you may see our little Elizabeth bringing in the wayward Betty, (Continued on page 99)