My Day by Eleanor Roosevelt

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NEW YORK—The visit of Soviet Deputy Premier Anastas I Mikoyan, according to most newspaper reports, did not seem to end very happily from his point of view. One only hopes that education both in this country and in the Soviet Union has been advanced through this exchange. These first efforts may bring rather few tangible results, but they must go on because somehow we must learn to live together or at some point we are apt to die together.

In my hours of waiting in Chicago the other day I looked over a little book for children which, both in its pictures and in its scant captions, I think will be enjoyed by children as well as by their elders. It is called "A Friend Is Someone Who Likes You" by Joan Walsh Anglund and is published by Harper & Brothers.

I also read a collection of poems, collected by Fred W. Ingvoldstad. The foreword was written by Edwin Markham. The book was published many years ago but it was sent to me only the other day. The collection is charming, indeed, and if you have a little while and get joy out of the poet's use of words, get "Red Shoes and Other Poems." I think you will find that it gives you some moments of real enjoyment.

When I was in Sarasota, Fla., with my uncle, David Gray, for a couple of nights last weekend, Mr. and Mrs. MacKinlay Kantor came over for tea and brought me a perfectly delightful little story book about their dog, Lobo. And if you like dog stories, here is another pleasant half hour for you.

I was surprised that the weather was so chilly in and around Sarasota, and if you are going to be there soon I suggest that you take along some heavy clothing.

One other book that has just been sent to me is "Glicenstein," the story for the sculptor written by Jean Cassou, in chief of the Museum of Modern Art in Paris, and published by Crown Publishers.

Glicenstein, who was born in 1870 in the little city of Turek in Poland, even as a child carved statuettes in wood. At 17 he began to fare forth into the world, attended the School of Art in Munich, Germany, and later in Italy won the Prix de Rome. He left Italy in 1920 to settle in the United States, where he worked until his death in 1942.

The book shows us drawings from which he did many of his sculptures and also prints photographs of many of his works. In March there will be an exhibition of his sculpture in the James A. Graham Galleries in New York City, and the exhibition will then travel to museums throughout the country.

Glicenstein did a bust of my husband in 1934, which is now in the headquarters of B'nai B'rith in Washington, D.C.

I think many of my readers will be interested in this man's work, which expresses tragedy, but in ways that are not always tragic, while at the same time possesses great strength.

E.R.
TMs, AERP, FDRL