New Yorker

Alexander Woollcott once attended a posh dinner party in honor of the Prince of Wales. After the meal, the ladies, as was the custom, left the room.

Some time later, as the gentlemen were enjoying port and cigars, the prince requested a moment of privacy with Woollcott.

The gentlemen withdrew and Woollcott found himself alone with the future king (Edward VIII), dreaming of royal favor, splendid commissions, titles, estates...

"I understand, Mr. Woollcott, that you have something to do with that magazine from the States, The New Yorker," the prince remarked. Yes, Woollcott excitedly declared, he had.

"Then why the devil don't I get it more regularly?" the prince snapped. "Do look into it, will you?"

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