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Frances PerkinsFrances Perkins
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he looked as though he would bite tacks. I remember him at an early White House reception when the Court was invited. It was perhaps the first year, or perhaps the second year we were in office. After having spoken to the President and his Lady at this judiciary reception in a way that almost made one feel that he was with great pain and with great dislike presenting himself to them to do a favor by attending their reception, he walked through the room where the members of the Cabinet were with his nose in the air, his head up. I remember Ickes or somebody saying to me, “He looks as though he smells something nasty,” as indeed he did. He had a handsome profile, very hawk-like, but this day he had curious expression, as though this was the most obnoxious thing he had ever been to. So my previous encounters with him had been mostly when he was looking like that. I had mot him socially, but never for much of any conversation, and usually being treated to quite arrogant, and I thought disagreeable, behavior.

So I was surprised as to how gracious and agreeable he could be when he was the host. Nevertheless, as the dinner proceeded and everybody was being agreeable, he turned to me, and with a very delightful sort of chuckle, a very amiable chuckle, said, “Well, I hear by





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