Hunger for Quick Hot Dog 

 Appeased by Pheasant Feq0 



Series of Surprises Greets Dr. 

 Party at Sumptuous Estate 



nn s 



By W. B. SHIPPEN, Jr., 



Star Staff Correspondent. 



BUENOS AIRES. — It was almost 

 lunch time when the director of the 

 local Zoo came to drive us to a 

 pheasant farm in the country. 



"Could we stop and pick up a hot 

 dog or a sand- m 

 wich on the" 

 way?" I asked. 

 The Zoo director 

 smiled and 

 nodded. 



Neverthel ess, 

 we swept by a 

 distressing num- 

 ber of eating 

 places before we 

 got out of the 

 city. 



There's noth- 

 ing like a . quick 

 sandwich and a 

 cup of coffee for 

 a motorist bound 

 for the country! 



, We weren't prepared for anything 

 more elaborate than a roadside 

 stand when we turned, without 

 warning, through a gateway in a 

 long wall that had risen out of the 

 pampas. We pulled up before a 



W. H. Shippen, Jr. 



rambling lodge of tile and stucco. 

 This, we learned, was only the gate- 

 keeper's little shack. 



The gatekeeper came out and said 

 something in rapid Spanish. Di- 

 rector William M. Mann of the 

 Washington (D. C.) Zoo turned to us 

 in the back seat. 



"Do you know what he said?" 



"No." 



"He said, 'The master awaits you 

 for breakfast!'" 



Limousines followed our car as 

 we drove toward a spacious man- 

 sion of Spanish colonial style set 

 between landscaped gardens. 



An Appetizing Joke. 



It was the Zoo director's little joke. 

 We who had — in all innocence — ex- 

 pected hot dogs, were guests of a 

 great Buenos Aires newspaper pub- 

 lisher at a week-end luncheon. 



The pheasants, we learned, were 



to be discussed with knife and fork 

 before otherwise engaging our at- 

 tention. They were preceded by 

 Chilean lobster, flown over the An- 

 des from the supposed island of 

 Robinson Crusoe; small shrimp from 

 the La Plata and white wines of 

 France. The Asiatic pheasants ar- 

 rived in huge dishes offered for in- 

 spection by two fat, grinning colored 

 men. The dish tops were adorned 

 with the bright heads and plumage 

 of the pheasants. 



Twelve of us sat in cir .eked 

 with tapir skin about 

 table spread with old lace ?.r,ti laden 

 with gold- encrusted wine- -glasses of 

 ancient Spain — our host, Senor Na- 

 talio Botana; his daughter and son- 

 in-law, a judge, the chief of the 

 Argentine Air Corps, several news- 

 paper men, two zoo directors, the 

 governor of a local province, and a 

 prosecuting attorney— "the Dewey of 

 Buenos Aires." 



Senor Botana, the liberal publish- 

 er of La Critica, was keeping open 

 house in his country place, with its 

 gardens and patios, its wide terraces, 

 tile work from Spain, and huge tiled 

 swimming pool. A self-made man, 

 he designed the place after his own 

 ideas, and took great pride in work- 

 ing out each detail, from the huge 

 frog of cast metal that spouted fresh' 



water into the pool, to the tile work 

 reproductions of Goya's paintings. 



In . the great hallway outside the 

 dining room gathered newspaper- 

 men from various dailies in Buenos 

 Aires; a poet, a concert singer, a 

 retired college president and other 

 guests who preferred to dine less 

 formally. They lingered over their 

 | wine and serenaded the 12 at the 

 round table. 



The retired college president, 

 wj th t he bea rcl an ft shoulders of a 

 Viking, ... : and • -d?u*v. • merry eyes, 



plucked a pheasat feather from the 

 prize dish and thrust it into his 

 breast pocket. His fellow diners 

 followed suit. They sang the old 

 choruses of the pampas and the 

 departed gaucho, and happily 

 shouted down a tenor who tried 

 to break in with a solo number. 



Our host sat smiling and quietly 

 relaxed at the head of the table, 

 his large, black and vivacious eyes 

 taking in. the .-show. He obviously 



(See 



(Continued From Page B-6.) 



was enjoying himself. After cof- 

 fee and cigars, he led his guests 

 on a tour of his pheasant farm- 

 one of the finest, if not the finest, 

 in the world. 

 There were some 2,000 birds of 



j 32 species, including a pair of a type 



. not known to exist anywhere else. 



Incidentally, Dr. Mann believes he 

 can fill one lack in the almost per- 

 fect collection by sending Senor 

 Botna a pair from a flock he brought 

 back from the East Indies. 



The hobby next dearest to Senor 

 Botana 's heart is a lodge constructed 

 on his estate from a native wood of 

 such granite texture that no spikes 

 can be driven into it — timber from 

 the quebracho tree, hewn into shape 

 by hand with infinite labor. The logs 

 of the many-roomed lodge were 

 fitted together without nails. The 

 wood is so hard that chunks of it 

 had been worked into the fieldstone 

 of the great fireplace in the living 

 room. 



Windows of stained glass depicted 

 bird and animal life of the Argen- 

 tine. Sleeping bunks were made of 

 logs inclosing feather beds and cur- j 

 tained by hand-woven ponchos. Old 

 Spanish chests from Jesuit missions 

 contained the finest of ponchos from 

 North, South and Central Argentina 

 —blending rich colors of the Chaco 

 with natural shades of vicuna wool 

 prepared in the Southern Andes. 



Servants opened the chests and 



OK 



h Page B 



spread ponchos about over the fur- 

 niture—great numbers of them, 

 Senor Botana made a little speech 

 in Spanish. 



Gift Must Be Accepted. 



"The senor says," a newspaper 

 man whispered, "it would give him 

 mu<5h pleasure if you North Ameri- 

 cans would select a poncho — one 

 for each of you! You had best, 

 accept it; it might hurt him just a! 

 little if you decline. " 



The North Americans accepted 

 with pleasure. 



The senor had one more surprise 

 —a moving picture studio under 

 construction on the edge of his es- 

 tancia. Work is being pushed rap- 

 idly on a group of a dozen large 

 brick buildings. 



"It is no Hollywood," one of the 



tenor's assistants said, "but perhaps 

 we can call it a beginning." 



We took our leave at sunset. Un- 

 der cloud banks, as far as the eye 

 could reach, great herds grazed 

 upon the flat pampas, broken only 

 occasionally by groves of cedar and 

 eucalyptus. 



The senor, dressed in loose trou- 

 sers, a silk shirt open at the throat, 

 and a bright silk scarf, pressed fine 

 Havanas upon us and boxes of ciga- 

 rettes for the ladies as farewell gifts. 



As we drove away Dr. Mann 

 asked me: 



"William, why don't you go into 

 the newspaper business? I'll be 

 your assistant!" 



Next: The father of quintuplets. 



tr 



Crema Sevigne 



e pescadilla 

 Gallina a la S 



tt'mfot 



Cafe o Te 



berss de i 



mm mU i 



»t« serl considerado j iobrado como extra 



r»e umlmwn de Im pintm de este mend 



a, (Alonuerzo 1 1. 00 d 13.00 y €ena 19.30 & 21.30 horas 

 i), se cebrara* la tarifa de comida complete, o sea I S.i 



especlalmente para las somedores del F.C.C.A. 

 © BLANCO $ 0.50 



I \/in®s y 



| CHAMPAGNES 



[MoT. mZm ANCHfRENA* 



IRCQADO DE IS S TrE OOMEDOR ES 



08 m de Mayo de 1939. 

 Precio $ 3.00 



