Читать книгу Mrs. Bridge - Evan S. Connell - Страница 21

15 • HOLIDAY NEWS

On the fifteenth of each month there appeared in the south side of Kansas City a magazine called The Tattler. It was very thin—sixteen pages of coated ivory stock—but the format was large: it was about half the size of a newspaper. The typography, for reasons known only to the publisher, was in the style of 1910. The Tattler was Kansas City’s magazine of society; it consisted of photographs of significant brides, of visiting celebrities feted at the homes of wealthy Kansas Citians, and pictures of subscribers, together with long lists of names of those who had either given or attended social affairs during the month. These lists of names were so long that it was found advisable to break them up into paragraphs and from time to time to insert a description of something—anything—that was reasonably pertinent. A typical entry:

Seen wolfing the delicious hors d’oeuvres at the charming Lane Terrace residence of the Bob Brewers (she, née Nancy Page of Santa Barbara, California) a week ago Tuesday-last were Humboldt Aupp, Jr., Buzz Duncan with his captivating guest from Dixie, Lola Anne Sharpe in a positively stunning cardinal gown with net bodice; Nathalie Blakely, Gordon A. Spencer III home with Yule tidings from Yale, Jo Power with her sister-in-law from Gotham, Mrs. Andrew Koeppel and hubby (he the newly appointed chairman of the board of Koeppel, Koeppel & Ingle), the McKinney twins indistinguishable in saffron except for Wendy’s rhinestone bracelet and Lt. Hal Graves, and last but far from least in stunning shell pink taffeta aglow with sequins, Mrs. Albert Tate fascinated by Mrs. Russ Arlen on the topic of Bermuda.

There followed a list of about thirty names, a description of the rumpus room, and more names.

The Tattler mentioned Mrs. and Mrs. Bridge whenever they were present at a major social function, and occasionally took their picture. The most memorable photograph of Mrs. Bridge was taken during a family vacation in Colorado. She had always been rather fond of horses, and before her marriage she used to go riding. In recent years, however, she had not had much to do with horses, partly because she was growing stout and was apprehensive that from certain angles she might not cut so sleek a figure in jodhpurs as she used to. In fact, at the time this picture was taken, she had not been on a horse for about ten years. The horse, unfortunately, had just sneezed and its head was down between his knees; Mrs. Bridge, her attention divided between the beast and the photographer, was leaning over its neck with a doubtful smile. The caption read, “Mrs. Walter G. Bridge, holidaying with spouse and young at Rocky Point Lodge, Estes Park, Colorado, likes nothing better than a canter on the bridle paths.”