My Day by Eleanor Roosevelt

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BEVERLY HILLS, Calif., Monday—Our trip on the way down here was uneventful. No floods to detain us. Except for one young boy, we had no visitors in our drawing room. He came in very diffidently and handed me a piece of silver wrapping which smelled strongly of the choclate it had once contained, and asked if I would write on it because it was all he could find and his sister wanted an autograph.

While our berths were being made up, we went into the lounge car and a group of rather youngish men were evidently returning after the close of the State Legislature to their various districts and celebrating the end of their arduous labors on the way. One young man who passed us, returned to inquire if I was Mrs. Roosevelt, and we chatted for a few minutes about his first term in the legislature. His friends were very insistent that he return to them and I think they probably thought that two old ladies had coralled him and were trying to keep him from spending a pleasant evening.

By the morning papers I see that the Governor of California may call the legislature back in extra session because of the needs of the flooded regions, so perhaps they were celebrating their liberty too soon.

Jimmy's car met us this morning at the station and we went straight to the Hotel Biltmore for breakfast in the coffee shop and then to the press room for a press conference. By 10:30 we were at Jimmy's apartment and, sad to say, we found that he will not be able to join us here. I am still hoping to see him before I leave the West Coast, but in spite of being very comfortable I miss him as host in his own house.

Plenty of mail greeted us and we were kept busy for an hour making plans for the next three days and sorting out what mail awaited us. All the work I did was to sign letters which came from Washington and then I started out to do some errands which ended up in Olvera Street. I could not be here and not at least walk through that street, for I am always interested to see how people there are getting on.

It looked bright and prosperous. We stopped at one little stand, attracted by the pretty pottery jars and the different kinds of orange jelly and marmalade, of which I sent some home. Mrs. Sterling came to greet us and walk the rest of the way with us. Then we hurried back to write this column, for distances are magnificent in this country and we must file three hours ahead of our usual time—a fact which I keep forgetting. I shall not be surprised if I receive a reprimand any day.

E.R.
TMs, AERP, FDRL