Song of Happiness

Franklin Roosevelt's oval second floor study had a festive air. Vases of white gladioli and chrysanthemums stood on the mantel. The big marble fireplace was banked with greens. Tall American Beauty roses stood in vases on his mahogany desk. As the hands of the old-fashioned French clock on the mantel neared noon, the President moved to a seat at the right of the fireplace. There he sat, while the 44 wedding guests arrived.

Into the flower-decked room came gaunt Harry Hopkins, his hair freshly trimmed, his blue business suit unwrinkled for the occasion. With him was the Rev. Russell J. Clinchy. In a hall the orchestra began the Lohengrin wedding march, dramatically stopped after the first four chords. Quick-smiling Mrs. Louise Macy entered on the arm of her brother-in-law, Navy Lieutenant Nicholas Ludington. She wore a simple deep-blue frock, with a matching halo hat that trailed a dark, waist-length veil. Her bouquet was purple orchids and delphiniums.

Dr. Clinchy, opening his Bible, stood with his back to the marble fireplace, surrounded by the little semicircle of 44 guests. Close by stood Hopkins' ten-year-old daughter, Diana, wistful and pretty in a cocoa-colored crepe dress and a brown straw hat. While Harry Hopkins put a gold-rope wedding ring on his bride's finger, little Diana held her new stepmother's bouquet.

Nervous Harry Hopkins missed no lines, dropped no ring, scuffed no shoes. At 18 minutes after twelve, by the mantel clock, the ceremony was over. Franklin Roosevelt took "Louie" Macy Hopkins' hand, kissed her on the cheek.

The guests crowded around to shake hands. Seven were relatives of the bride. Four were the children of Harry Hopkins by his two previous marriages, and Son David brought along his wife. There were 23 members of the White House staff. The only other guests: Mrs. Clinchy; Playwright Robert Sherwood, who often lends a hand on White House speeches; Presidential Adviser Samuel I. Rosenman; General George C. Marshall, Admiral Ernest J. King.

At 12:30 the party moved into the dining room. The White House gold-and-silver service flashed in the noon sun. Tables were spread with platters of jellied salmon, jellied vegetable rings, hot chicken sandwiches, roast beef, a mountainous wedding cake frosted with signs of the Zodiac, doves and a big American eagle. Corks popped from magnums of champagne. President Roosevelt made a little speech.

The chicken and jellied salmon disappeared. The Meyer Davis orchestra, which has played dance music for every President since Woodrow Wilson, played tunes the bridal pair had requested. Bandleader Davis had even composed a new tune, A Song of Happiness, for the occasion.

Just before 2:30, the President moved to his private study. The wedding celebration was over. The guests filed out. "Louie" and Harry Hopkins started on their honeymoon.

The White House wedding, fanciest of the day, was reported by brief communiques. The papers had plenty of space left to report other glamor weddings of the same day--notably:

In the glittering air of Colorado Springs, Count Haugwitz-Reventlow, 46, onetime husband of Barbara Hutton, married Mrs. Margaret Drayton, great-granddaughter of Mrs. William Astor herself.

In Hollywood, 60 film notables assembled to see John Barrymore's pretty daughter Diana, 21, married to Actor Bramwell Fletcher, 38. The bride wore an Elizabethan gown of flimsy lace, had a wonderful big cake. Most wonderful of all was the bride's mother, Poetess Michael Strange, whose bounding vitality made most notables seem pale.

In Manhattan, Knut Thommessen, of the Free Norway Ministry of Foreign Affairs, married Sonja Lie (pronounced Lee), blonde daughter of the late famed Artist Jonas Lie. She, too, had wedding gown and cake.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.