NEW YORK, Thursday—Yesterday morning I spent one of the most unprofitable hours imaginable! I was conscious every minute that somehwere a number of people must have been waiting for me, I told myself that if I only had the proper kind of ingenuity I would find a way to extricate myself from my dilemma, but I found myself baffled everywhere I turned.

Here is what happened. I left my apartment a little bit late because my son, Jimmy, had come to breakfast, but I thought I was only going to 25 West 23rd St and expected to arrive there within ten minutes of the time I had set. I reached that address to find a building with a shop on the main floor, but no Czechoslovakian bazaar which I was supposed to be attending under the auspices of the International Federation of Business and Professional Women.

I wandered up and down both sides of the street and held my telegram with the address of the bazaar in my hand. Finally, since no one was able to enlighten me, I turned around and went to 25 East 23rd Street. Nothing any more encouraging met me there, so I went into a shop and asked permission to use their telephone book. First I tried Miss Lena Madeson Phillips' telephone number. No answer. Then I tried the office of the International Business and Professional Women. No answer. Then I telephoned the Women's Division of the Democratic State Committee, thinking that those who were waiting for me might have telephoned there. Sure enough, they had, but they left no address and only the telephone number which I had just tried with no success. I tried again, still no answer. Then I tried my own apartment and no answer, so I knew my maid was out marketing. Then I drove to 125 West 23rd Street, thinking that a numeral might easily be left off a telegram. Then I came home!

An hour and a quarter had gone by and I found excited messages by this time, which told how many people were waiting for me. Unfortunately, I had other appointments, so I could not start out again immediately. Finally, having discovered that the correct address was 25 West 43rd Street, I arranged to reach there a little before 1:00 o'clock. So ends a sad tale which seems to be no one's fault, for who can tell who made the mistake in the address on my telegram?

Yesterday snow was falling and I hope it will extend to Washington and that we will have a white Christmas, for I think the south lawn will be a grand place for the three children to play in the snow with the two dogs which Franklin, Jr., is bringing up and parking with us at the White House during the Christmas holidays.

I find that grandparents are very useful, not only to take over children when their parents feel the need of a change, but to give a home to the dogs which may be temporarily homeless. These two dogs spent last summer with us at Hyde Park. One is a Great Dane and one is an Irish setter, and they look upon the children as their natural playmates. The fourth child staying with us, Ethel and Franklin, Jr.'s, baby, is, I fear, too young to enjoy watching the others play, but he seemed to be able to coo very intelligently and happily to me the last time we met.