Radio stars (Dec 1938)

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SHE SCOOPS TO CONQUER (Continued from page 25) book is always with lier. Her friends sometimes say : "You don't ire invite Mary Margaret to dinner unss you invite a story for her." Once, a man seated next to her at a dinner party i suddenly that he was her story, is furious ! For a long time he wouldn't say a word. But Mary Margaret, with her frank interest in his work, her naive disappointment at his silence, finally won him over. He talked, gave her a grand story, and then, for good measure, agreed to be a guest on her program some day and talk some more. This he did, and they're friends now. In spite of her years in New York, her travels over the world, she keeps a kind of fresh-from-the-farm simplicity. It's a simplicity which gives her a kind of poise that the most sophisticated person can well envy. A poise that makes her perfectly at home wherever she is, and at ease with whomever she meets. She was one of the reporters, some years back, sent to meet Prince Christopher, son of the then King of Greece, when he arrived in this country. She boarded the ship and joined the group of newspapermen who waited nervously to greet a titled man. Prince Christopher was one of the first members of European royalty to visit the United States in the post-War era, and nobody knew, then, just how to greet him. Mary Margaret listened with amused amazement while the newspapermen discussed the problem among themselves. Should they curtsy? Were you supposed to kneel ? She was aghast to see "hardboiled" reporters worrying and fidgeting because they didn't know how to approach a prince. When the great moment came, Mary Margaret simply said good morning, just as if he were a neighbor, and confessed to him that she was disappointed because he looked much like any other nice-looking man. The Prince laughed and told her she reminded him of the little boy who, upon meeting him, cried and cried and couldn't be consoled. When they asked him what was wrong, he sobbed : "He hasn't got a crown." Her natural approach with the Prince, incidentally, won for her one of the finest scoops of her writing career. Charmed by her simplicity, the Prince talked to her willingly. Up until that time, practically nothing had been written about the personal lives of royal families. To Mary Margaret the Prince poured out his story. He told her about his childhood in the great royal palace. Of how, on rainy days, he and his brothers were permitted to get their bicycles and ride them around and around in the throne room. Of how the palace, so grand, so impressive, actually wasn't very comfortable to live in. Of its one bathtub— and that in his father's, the King's room — and how it ran rusty water and harbored water bugs. When her writing job was ended, the farm girl from Missouri and the Prince from Greece parted friends. You have a feeling that when she was a little girl, and poor, her mother instilled in her the belief that as long as you were neat and clean and honest, you were as good as a princess. Thus, a person's station never impresses her, but what he is does. She's so honest, it's sometimes a nuisance. Once she did a story for a national magazine on Anne Morgan. When the story was published, Anne Morgan was pleased and amazed at its accuracy, because, she said, in her interviews Mary Margaret hadn't taken a single note. In no time at all people were hearing from Anne Morgan what a marvel this McBride woman was — remembering with precise accuracy every detail of her conversation. Well, as a matter of fact, Mary Margaret had taken copious notes. But the small note-book, as usual lay in her lap, and she scribbled without looking at it. Miss Morgan hadn't even noticed the note-taking. As soon as Mary Margaret heard rumors of Anne Morgan's mistaken opinion, she began frantically to try to correct it. She phoned people, she wrote denials, she worried and fretted, and finally gave up. Most people, it seemed, believed Anne Morgan, anyway. In her radio work she refuses to accept as a commercial any product she doesn't believe in thoroughly. This kind of honesty never fails to amaze business associates. Before accepting a sponsor for her program, she investigates his product, visits his plant, uses his product in her own household for a while, and then, if she doesn't think it's the best on the market, refuses to take it on the program. It's simply that she can't honestly advise women to use a product that she herself wouldn't use. Nothing upsets her so much as having people question her sincerity. People sometimes write her, saying : "I can't believe that you really eat all the things you pretend to have in front of you while you broadcast." One letter like that ruins a day. It's absolutely true that while she yums-yums over a delicious pudding or a choclate cake, she's devouring it then and there. Ask the man in the control room. It drives him crazy. He must watch carefully, and soften, as best he can, the sudden click of spoon on china, the handling of dishes. He has confessed, too, that he watches in terror lest a blob of whipped cream be flicked into the microphone. It seems that the microphone is such a delicate instrument that one speck of whipped cream could completely ruin it, besides messing up the broadcast. So far, there have been no such casualties. Food is still her most exciting experience. She tells, shamelessly, of visiting an inn famous for its desserts and eating fifteen desserts in one day. She couldn't bear not to taste them all. It's her pride that she is willing to taste anything that's served as food and enjoyed by some people. As an experience, she's eaten socalled delicacies ranging from rattlesnake meat to raw fish. Her favorite food, though, is still hot biscuits and Southern fried chicken and the kind of food her mother used to cook for Sunday dinner down on the farm. ^H>e£y ma£e up... aAvayi. with the new POWD'ti BASE stick Keeps powder and make-up on until removed. No nose or face shine. Non-visible; nongreasy and waterproof. Simple to use; achieves that velvety, flattering complexion. Flesh — Rachelle — Brunette — Suntan. 10c— 25c— 50c— SI. POUJD'PIISE Hampden 251 Fifth Ave. N.Y. 54