My Evening

At 9:30 Saturday night Eleanor Roosevelt, wearing a grey satin evening gown, stepped into a limousine, swooshed out of the slushy White House grounds. Two police motorcycles preceded the First Lady on her customary whirlwind sweep of the President's Birthday Balls.

> In the Hotel Washington's basement ballroom (first stop) Eleanor Roosevelt strode to a thronelike seat on a small dais. Energetically, the orchestra played the national anthem. That over, the roped-off audience fell into a stiff, embarrassed silence. Eleanor Roosevelt tried to loosen things by suggesting "we all sing something together." But that was not on the program; no one knew what cue to take. Before a song could be organized, the First Lady was away.

> In the Willard (last stop, after appearances at the Stage Door Canteen, Mayflower, Shoreham, Wardman Park, Lincoln Colonnades), Eleanor Roosevelt long-legged it through a corridor smothered with bunting. There her evening was to reach its climax: cutting of a 200-lb. birthday cake. Charlie McCarthy and Edgar Bergen greeted her.

Charlie: Mrs. Roosevelt, if I get a piece of that cake and put it under my pillow, will I be President of the United States some day?

Eleanor (laughing) : I really don't know.

Charlie: Did you make the cake yourself?

Eleanor Roosevelt: No, I couldn't make such a lovely cake as that.

Finally the baker's masterpiece was cut, with soldiers yelling: "Give me a piece, Eleanor!" For cake-eating accompaniment Charlie and Bergen quipped over Charlie's lunch that day at the White House.

At 10:55 the First Lady was back at the White House, five minutes ahead of schedule. It had been an incredible performance, out-Eleanoring Eleanor. In 85 minutes she had covered six miles (through Washington's worst mire), visited seven hotels, made seven speeches.

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