Word: maharajahs
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Beneath a pornographic picture of Betty Compton (TIME, Nov. 21, 1932) you write "The Maharajah is interested in reform" and in the article on same page you refer to Colonel Sir Shri Krishnaraja Wadiyar Bahadur, Maharajah of Mysore, and further state that the ex-Mayor of New York, Mr. J. J. Walker, was about to return the visit of the Maharajah. In TIME (Dec. 5) is a cut giving a photograph of the "Maharajah" and his friend...
James John ("Jimmy") Walker, one-time Mayor of New York, has recently hid in Manhattan's swank Ambassador Hotel where his good friend Theatrical Promoter A. C. Blumenthal maintains a suite. Colonel Sir Shri Krishnaraja Wadiyar Bahadur, Maharajah of Mysore is a "model Indian prince," more interested in reforms than in the jewels, dancing girls, elephants of his important province. Betty Compton is a sleek-haired musicomedy dancer, who had a part in Fifty Million Frenchmen...
...visited the Walker suite. The Walker valet. Greenhouse, deckwalked the Compton dog. Mr. Walker finally emerged from his cabin, gave newshawks an ancient wisecrack about his whiskers growing so long he must shave or buy a fiddle, and denied that he was about to return a visit to the Maharajah of Mysore...
Besides his favorite dancing-boys the Maharajah took particular delight in religious speculation. An English missionary, Miss Potter, once camped near his palace, and he went straight out to call on her. While she hustled out chairs, prepared to welcome him he sounded off point blank, "'Miss Potter-where is God?' 'He is everywhere,' replied Miss Potter with dignity. 'But, my dear Maiden,' exclaimed His Highness, planting himself firmly in one of the chairs, 'what good is that...
From the Dewan, or Prime Minister, and from Babaji Rao, the Maharajah's secretary, Tutor Ackerley learned much native common sense, much native lore that he scatters rather indiscriminately throughout his book. His own pupil he saw apparently only once, but he was pestered nearly to death by his tutor Abdul who, despite profuse apologies, was always "boring upon" his time. When the day of departure came, however, he was half sad to leave these queer Hindus. They, with their queer illogic, hit the nail of his experience on the head: "Four days of moonlight-then darkness," say they...