Wednesday, November 25, 2015


Cover of the GSMT Book
Historian/New York author 
Polly Guerin presents the distinguished history of The General Society of Mechanics and Tradesmen of the City of New York : A History (The History Press 2015). The book is a tribute to this essential New York institution located at 20 West 44th Street, right in the heart of the tony clubs on Club House row. The facade of the building is a New York City Landmark and the building itself is listed on the National register of Historic places. Since its beginning The Society has identified with its slogan and icon "By Hammer and Hand All Arts do Stand."

    The skilled craftsmen of New York founded The General Society of Mechanics and Tradesmen of the City of New York in 1785, and the organization's history is strongly aligned from the beginning with the city's physical and cultural development. 
    In 1820, The Society founded its library, now called the General Society Library and began a Lecture Series in 1837, which continues today to present diverse subjects that resonate with New Yorkers and
individuals in the landmark, building and construction industry. 
   The GSMT opened the only free-tuition Mechanics Institute in 1858 to provide free education to the trades. Prominent New York members included the GSMT's great benefactor Andrew Carnegie whose largess is legendary. Peter Cooper, Abram Stevens Hewitt, Duncan Phyfe among others
Back Cover of the GSMT book
were members of The Society and contributed to establishing it as the quintessential organization, now celebrating in 2015 its 230th anniversary.

    The Society's events and programs continue to improve the lives of New Yorkers while fostering an innovative and inventive spirit.
     Jonathan D. Resnick, president, Jack Resnick & Sons said: "The men and women that have come through The Society have literally built New York City, either with their hands and tools, or by becoming business leaders who shaped the City's real estate and construction industries.  It is my hope that The Society continues to build and change this great City.
    This book can be purchased on AMAZON. 

Monday, November 23, 2015


The Dollhouse Murder Mystery is steeped in authentic Art Deco ambiance with Victoria St. John  the self described sleuth, who discovers a murdered man on an Aubusson rug in the dollhouse's ballroom. 
     Absurd as it may seem she is able to engage John Hamilton, the handsome museum director's interest, and off they go in a time-travel escapade into the dollhouse to solve the murder mystery.
    Encounters with Art Deco personalities of the day percolate the fantasy adventure including Marcel Duchamp, Tamara de Lempicka, the Baron and Baroness de Meyer, Zorach and others. Inspector Pettihomme spearheads the investigation.  The question is "Who is the dead man?" Yet, he arrives in the ballroom quite alive, or is he an impostor? 
      Dear readers, find out for yourself and enjoy this jolly romp with a subtle romance ensuring. One reader wrote: "It was a treat like eating a delicious eclair. I love all the people in it." Another fan said, "I love this book, it is so enchanting."  The Dollhouse Murder Mystery is available on Amazon.

Sunday, November 22, 2015


POETRY OF INSPIRATION AND REFLECTION by the poet/author Polly Guerin is a compilation of poems that will make you smile, remind you to remember or may even bring you to tears. 
     It is written in easy-to-comprehend verse to Enlighten, Enrich and Entertain. Just in time for gift-giving year round the book has quotes from fans whose comments are printed with not all, but some of the poems. This provides the reader with remarks that resonate with their own sense of wonder and delight. Some poem's message may inspire the reader to even laugh especially in the section Frolic and Fun.  Dear Readers I hope that you will have many more reasons to read and reread these poems or share them with friends and family. Poetry of Inspiration and Reflection is available on Amazon.

Tuesday, January 3, 2012


This is a story about Lizzie, a scruff of a little black dog and how she earned her water wings on Blue Mountain Lake.

It was a bright, perfectly sunny afternoon and Captain Bob was preparing his pontoon boat for a sightseeing tour of the lake. Several people had lined up for the trip but before anyone could get on the boat, a scruffy little black dog, flew like the wind onto the boat and jumped right up on Captain Bob’s lab.
“Don’t mind Lizzie, here,” Captain Bob said as he sat at the controls. “She is my first mate and never misses a trip." Captain Bob was a familiar character on Blue Lake and he knew everybody and everything about the rustic community. He was such a natural storyteller and could weave such interesting stories that his tours were very popular.

As for Lizzie, she was a most frolicsome little dog and from the ragged shape she was in one would have assumed that she was a mutt, but underneath it all she was a pure bred poodle of water-bred lineage.
It is no wonder that Lizzie was a natural when it came to water. If she could speak she would have told you, “The best part of any trip I take with Captain Bob is squatting at the very edge of the pontoon and watching the twirling, whirling water trailing the boat as it churned its way across the lake.”
Lizzie was very friendly and thought nothing of dashing about and jumping from one person to another. As if to say, “Welcome Aboard,” she greeted the tourists in this jaunty manner, but not everyone seemed pleased with her antics.
“Get that mop of a dog away from me,” declared a bespeckled spinster lady from New Hampshire who was listed on the boat’s masthead as Miss Mary Jane Winters.
A nasty little boy tried to knock the little dog off the boat but Lizzie was too swift for his foot and off she flew in another direction.
“Whew,” Lizzie thought, “That was a close call.”
Obviously not everyone liked Lizzie’s exuberant personality so when Captain Bob sat at the controls he let the little dog sit on his lap.
“Say, when are we taking off?” demanded a young feisty little boy, named Bud, no more than nine years old, who stood up in the boat and his foot antics set it rocking.
“Sit down,” Captain Bob said, “No one is going anywhere until we go over some safety rules and Lizzie here is going to teach us.”
“Shucks, this isn’t any fun,” the boy blurted out loud.
His mother gave him a stern look, and if I observed right I think I saw her pinch his arm, to shut him up and, boy did his face turn red!
The other tourists did not seem to mind the little sailor dog but suddenly to their horror little Lizzie jumped off the boat close to the dock and sank into the deep, blue waters.
The self-appointed Duchess of Guiche, so named by her companion on the trip, because I was told, she ate quiche every day gasped, “Oh, the poor little dog!”
A little girl named Prunella from South Carolina declared with a drawl as thick as molasses, “Isn’t anyone going to rescue that little dog?”
Captain Bob had jumped into the water and in no time he held little Lizzie up to everyone’s applause.
On deck Lizzie seemed none the worse for her watery escapade. She merely shook her body like the end of a dust mop and globs of water like heavy raindrops fell on anyone nearby.
Lizzie was a self-assured little dog and remembered her ancestral water-bred history, “We have been water dogs ever since and I just love jumping into the lake.”
“Can’t you control that dog?” demanded Mrs. Uptight.
“Right you are,” announced Captain Bob, “That is why everyone must put on a life jacket.”
“I don’t want to,” that boy Bud exclaimed without thinking as his mother gave him another one of her ‘looks.’
Captain Bob ignored Bud and pulled out a small bright yellow life jacket with blue stripes.
“Whose going to wear that small thing?” Bud demanded.
Captain Bob gave the Bud a sharp look, “Everyone is going to wear their life jacket or we do not shove off. It’s a matter of safety.”
“Yeah,” Bud smirked, even that dog?”
“Right you are,” and Captain Bob put the little life jacket on Lizzie, snapped it in place and from a handle on the top of the jacket he held her up for all the tourists to see.
“Why she looks like she’s in a little suitcase,” exclaimed Miss Mary Jane Winters with a note of glee in her voice.
Lizzie squirmed a little bit in her new life jacket thinking, “Doesn’t Captain Bob know that I’m a natural swimmer?”
However, Captain Bob wasn’t taking any chances especially because he wanted the tourists to understand about water safety.
“See, it’s quite simple to put on a jacket. If Lizzie can do it so can you. Now I want everyone, especially the children and that also means you, Bud, to put it on.”
The safety demonstration over Captain Bob held Lizzie aloft in her new life jacket and reminded everyone, “Lizzie has taught us that water safety comes first before we shove off on any water excursion.”
Lizzie barked in agreement and that is how Lizzie got her water wings and became a symbol of safety on Blue Mountain Lake.

Sunday, January 1, 2012

LULU THE WEAVER and the Platinum Planet Award (c) By Polly Guerin

Once upon a time in the land of Mother Earth, Lulu the Weaver was attending her flock of sheep in a lovely green pasture when the village postman walked up the path towards her quaint, rustic cottage.

The postman, a jovial chatterbox, had not

delivered any mail to Lulu the Weaver’s cottage in a few days. It is not wonder, that when she saw the postman approaching, Lulu rushed up to the gate and with eager inquiry she asked the postman, “Anything for me?”

“Well little lady, the postman replied. “I’ve made an extra trip to your cottage today because I have a special delivery envelope for you.”

Lulu the Weaver clasped her hands and beamed the most engaging smile of anticipation. The postman pulled the envelope out of his big satchel. It was addressed
in very fancy handwriting, inscribed as it was with artistic calligraphy to.

Miss Lulu the Weaver
Green Pastures, Planet
Earth, U.S.A.’

“Oh, I am so excited,” Miss Lulu exclaimed. Miss Lulu opened the envelope and retrieved a hand-engraved invitation.
“Looks mighty important,” the postman observed as his eyeglasses fell to the tip of his nose.

The invitation read,

Dear Miss Lulu the Weaver

“You are cordially invited to attend Mother’s Earth’s

Planet Awards for Conscientious Service to Protecting the Environment.

On Saturday April 27, every year

At 3 P.M.

Location: Take the High Road to Planet Earth’s Grassy Hill

Please RSVP: info@Mother

Lulu the Weaver jumped for joy. “Why me?” she pondered. The postman looked over his eyeglasses and with a broad grin he said, “Well, I guess you will have to attend the event to find out.”

Miss Lulu immediately thought out loud. What will I wear? Let’s see I have five days to spin the wool and weave it into organic fabric and make a new garment that would be appropriate and earth-friendly for the occasion.

“Well, it will be best if you begin right away,” urged the postman, and with that he waved goodbye, “Good Luck, Miss Lulu,” he said and continued on his appointed delivery rounds.

All week Miss Lulu was consumed with spinning and weaving the organic fabric, and dyeing it to perfection with organic dyes from colors that had been extracted from a variety of vegetables, plants and flowers. At the end of the week to her satisfaction Lulu the Weaver realized that she and had finally created one of the most beautiful earth-friendly garments on the whole Planet.

With a confidant smile on the appointed Saturday on Earth Day in April Miss Lulu ventured out to attend Mother Earth’s Planet Awards. When she arrived at the grassy hilltop ceremonial grounds many people had gathered to view and celebrate the occasion.

The Forest Sprite

Lulu was met by one of Mother Earth’s greeters, a charming forest sprite dressed from head to toe in a tunic and tights made of green foliage and one large jaunty leafy cap. The friendly sprite invited Lulu to take her place in the reserved ‘honorees only’ section.

“Welcome, Lulu the Weaver,” the winsome sprite said as she escorted Miss Lulu to her seat and remarked, “You must be proud to be selected to receive a Planet Award.”

“Yes, indeed I am,” Miss Lulu gushed as a slight blush of crimson color rose on her cheeks.

The sprite suggested that Lulu meet the other honorees.

“Hello,” Lulu greeted the other guests. I am Lulu the Weaver,” she proudly announced with a bright smile. All the honorees seemed to be awestruck by Lulu’s unique bouffant silhouette. She was wearing her festive organic party dress that had been dyed in layers of soft earth-tone colors with just a hint of sunlight woven into the fabric. Everyone was amazed to see how youthful and sweet Lulu was and how modest she appeared in her earth-friendly attire.

However, Lulu realized that she was not the only one who had been summoned to receive an award. Several individuals receiving recognition on that Earth day included individuals who had performed good deeds to save the Planet.

There was the Champion of Recycling who was so concerned about saving the Planet that he had made it his business to be sure that all of the neighborhoods in every town, every city and every borough participated in recycling paper and newspapers, plastics, glass and metal, and the real garbage in separate containers.

In an effort to protect the environment the self-appointed Scooper Dooper Police Warden patrolled the city streets to make sure that dog owners picked up after their dogs. He also issued a ‘No Pee’ warning to anyone if they allowed their dog to pee on the city’s trees, which would eventually harm the tree’s health and growth.

The chicken farmer wearing his straw had and overalls had traveled all the way from his Organic farm in Austin, Texas. He had been singled out for recognition because he gave his chickens only organic feed and let them roam freely in a free- range setting so that earth people could be assured of environmentally healthy-to-eat eggs.

Looking very proud was Tilly the Toiler, a woman who had transformed a vacant, derelit lot in her community into a beautiful garden where people could enjoy a little oasis of beauty and calm in the heart of the hectic and noisy city.

Lulu realized that she was among some very accomplished individuals, but she also wondered why she had been chosen as an honoree.

The Platinum Planet Award

A hush fell over the gathering as the Earth Day festivities began. The dulcet chords of a harp filled the air. It was played by a wood sprite strumming heavenly musical notes that wafted through the air with a pleasant melody that sounded like wind brushing through the trees.

Presently Mother Earth appeared for all to see, standing majestically under a bower of roses cascading over a canopy of ferns. She wore a luscious gown of rich velvet grass decorated with a variety of colorful wild flowers that cascaded down the front in waterfall pattern. Mother Earth adjusted her glasses and began the ceremonies.

“Today we pay homage to all the people who honor the Planet. Everyone of you here today justly deserves special recognition. However, there is one very special person who will receive the Platinum Planet Award.”

Mother Earth was handed an envelope, and just like the Hollywood Oscar Awards she gingerly opened the sealed envelope. Mother Earth peered at the audience over her eyeglasses and with a rosebud smile she announced,

“And…the Platinum Planet Award goes to Lulu the Weaver, who spins the wool from the sheep, weaves the yarn into fabric, and dyes the cloth in natural organic colors and makes garments, hats, scarves and gloves that are eco-friendly to the Planet.”

By the expression on Lulu’s face one could see that she was truly amazed to be singled out for the special award. Lulu was so stunned by the announcement that in the excitement she momentarily seemed stuck in her seat, but one of Mother Earth’s forest sprites realized Lulu’s dilemma and escorted her to the stage of meet Mother Earth and claim her Platinum Planet Award.

Unusual as it was, the award took the shape of a round world globe made from brown earth on which moss green shapes formed the outline of the countries on the Planet. The globe rested on a base of gleaming pure platinum with wires that spelled out the words Platinum Planet Award.

As Lulu stood by Mother Earth the audience rose to their feet and applauded ever so gently like soft mellifluous rain that poured praise on Lulu’s accomplish- ment and at the same time a forest sprite struck up a triumphant pretty tune on the harp .

Mother Earth kissed Lulu on both cheeks and congratulated her once again. With trembling emotion Lulu told everyone, “I am thrilled and surprised to receive this Platinum Planet Award and I am humbled and so very thankful. This is a great honor and it gives me renewed inspiration to create eco-friendly fabrics and garments that protect the earth and the people who wear my creations.

“Thank You, Thank you!” Lulu gushed with appreciation. Then cheers went up again and again until they finally died down and other awardees were called up to receive their Earth Day Awards.

And that, my friends, is the simple tale of how Lulu the Weaver won the recognition she deserved for creating organic fabric garments that contribute to saving our Planet.


Monday, December 19, 2011

A CHILD'S CHRISTMAS IN WALES, Storytelling in New York (c) By Polly Guerin

As great holiday music celebrates the Christmas season there’s but one very special sentimental journey back to simpler, innocent times of wonder and fantasy and that is the epic poem/story, A Child’s Christmas in Wales, by Dylan Thomas, which was produced recently by the Chelsea Opera Company with the Chelsea Opera Chamber Orchestra under the baton of the brilliant Maestro Carmine Aufiero. Here’s the scoop!!!
DYLAN THOMAS Just a year before his death in 1953 noted poet Dylan Thomas recorded A Child’s Christmas in Wales, a classic that has become one of the all time holiday favorites and his most recognized story. New York City composer Matthew Harris’ choral cantata poignantly captures the Christmas spirit and the humor in Thomas’s ageless story. Its sentimentality tugs at our hearts with nostalgic yearnings to go back and remember what a childhood was like in that seaside village in Wales.
ONE CHRISTMAS WAS SO MUCH LIKE ANOTHER Many of us can relate to Thomas’s opening lines, “One Christmas was so much like another, in those years around the sea-town corner now and out of all sound except the distant speaking of the voices I sometimes hear a moment before was so much like another, in those years around the sea-town corner now and out of all sound except the distant speaking of the voices I sometimes hear a moment before sleep, that I can never remember whether it snowed for six days and six nights when I was twelve or whether it snowed for twelve days and twelve nights when I was six.”
FIRE, FIRE, FIRE!!! “Nobody could have had a noisier Christmas Eve” leads us through a merry chase as the excitement, clamor and gong ringing cause such a ruckus that the firemen arrive in their shining helmets, standing among smoke and cinders and dissolving snowballs. Adding to the absurdness of the situation, Miss Prothero says to the firemen, “Would like anything to read?”
THE UNCLES reminds us so much about uncles at our house. Thomas recalls, “There were always Uncles at Christmas. The same Uncles. They sat in front of the fire, loosened all buttons, put their large moist hands over their watch chains, groaned a little and slept.” But there were aunties, too. “Auntie, Bessie, who had already been frightened twice, by a clockwork mouse, whimpered at the sideboard and had some elderberry wine. After some hilarious antics in the snow and a fantasy hippo enactment the children head home.
SINGING CAROLS Thomas waxes nostalgic, “I remember that we went singing carols once, when there wasn’t the shaving of a moon to light the flying streets, and always on Christmas night there was music. An uncle played the fiddle, a cousin sang Cherry Ripe, and another uncle sang Drake’s Drum. It was very warm in the little house. I got into bed, I said some words to the close and holy darkness, and then I slept.”
This endearing story referenced here is only an abbreviated sampling of the sentimentality that Thomas conveys through his recollections. It gives us pause to wonder and reflect on the similarities in our own Christmas celebrations replete with eccentric family members. However, most of all we may all feel better for having vicariously experienced this very quaint Christmas tale. It’s the kind of story that deserves reading to a new generation of children and grownups who will be carried away to a seaside village and A Child’s Christmas in Wales.

You can order the story through Amazon. To read more about Chelsea Opera go to

Visit Polly's other blogs at, just click on the links in the right-hand column.

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

MATILDA III, REIGNING QUEEN AT THE ALGONQUIN (c) A Story of Fact and Fiction By Polly Guerin

When the exotic 4-year old blue-eyed feline was carted in a common carrier through the famed portals of the Algonquin Hotel on West 44th Street in New York she had no idea that her new home would be a world-class hotel that international visitors called home.The hotel’s major claim to fame was its dining room, the fabled long-ago hangout for writers and artists, literary wits like Dorothy Parker, James Thurber and ALexander Woollcott, who were among the celebrated ‘Round Table’ regulars. But this is a story about a not-so-ordinary-cat who shares equal celebrity with the legend of the Algonquin hotel. While every clever remark the famous wits uttered became the talk of the town, a solitary cat became the hotel’s star attraction.It seems that a majestic cat has apparently reigned as queen monarch/mascot over the comings and goings of the hotel’s staff and its international guests ever since, way back in the 1930s. Some say a stray cat wondered into the hotel others tell a different story recalling that the Algonquin owner, way back then, installed the first cat in his apartments. So as one cat departed for its heavenly reward, a strikingly similar cat quickly appeared to take its place. All of the felines were called, Matilda. There were, however, seven male cats called Hamlet (Hamlet for John Barrymore who was playing Hamlet way back then) who managed to paw their way into celebrity.
Matilda III Arrives The current arrival, an imposing four-year old feline had been acquired from the North Shore Animal League, a Long Island shelter but no one at first knew of her lineage, which was as posh as the hotel itself. This was no ordinary pussycat who would become Matilda III. She is one of those remarkable ‘rag-doll’ beauties a breed that was known to preen and to keep her magnificent soft tawny fur impeccably groomed. This exotic-looking beauty was about to become the latest cat-in-residence at the Algonquin Hotel. She had a most engaging way of looking out on the world through her perfectly lovely azure-blue slanted eyes. I could tell from her regal posturing that she must be some kind of a ‘royal and perhaps she had landed in the shelter after falling on hard times or perhaps abandoned by some senior individual.However, this new feline quickly won the hearts of anyone who saw her distinguishing features and she even resembled Matilda II, her predecessor. The new arrival was a real beauty, her face was framed in misty tawny fur and she had lovely gray-tipped ears and her luscious tawny-peach coat required constant grooming. As if painted by a Master artist a dab of snow white was brushed on her nose and on the tips of her tiny paws so they looked like little white booties. Below her face a ruff of white downy fur gave her a proud and regal bearing.
Becoming Matilda III With such well-groomed personal credentials this exotic feline had quite a self-appointed opinion about herself and said, “I may seem a bit haughty, but I am not in the slightest. I can be as modest as any pussycat.However, when she first entered the hallowed halls of the Algonquin’s Hotel, located in the heart of New York City, she took a quick look around at the historic and elegant surroundings and wondered, “What have I gotten myself into?”However, the maitre‘d soon set her mind at ease and gave her a gentle pat of assurance. Being a feline of obvious intelligence and apparent royal breeding Matilda was sharp witted. She quickly understood that she had been selected to replace Matilda II who had retired to the comfy home of a hotel staffer. With a note of glee, expressed by her audible humming and purring, she realized that her role as resident cat was to play the part of celebrity, while fulfilling some royal domestic duties as the hotel’s “Directfurr of Guest Relations.”To commemorate the occasion the maitre d’ put a pink paper crown on Matilda’s head and with that gesture it was declared that henceforth she would be known as Matilda III.“Thank you, thank you,” Matilda purred enthusiastically as she was crowned. In a queenly gesture she rose up to the occasion and puffed out her downy white ruff and accepted her new role as the Algonquin's cat-in-residence.Recognition like this was something Matilda had yearned for all her short life, which had been previously endured under rather simple circumstances. Living at the Algonquin Hotel as the reigning queen was a dream come true and Matilda continued to purr approvingly. “My angels must have been working overtime,” she murmured.
Matilda III also realized that she had been selected not only for her magnificent regal appearance but because her breed was known for its docile and placid temperament. Matilda III was quick to add,“Despite my royal lineage I never put on airs and I‘m never haughty but nice.” No wonder the hotel selected the new Matilda.The maitre‘d confirmed this fact, “Matilda III’s attitude is just the right impression the Algonquin Hotel wishes to convey to all its guests.”

Officiating at the Registration Desk As the new Directfurr of Guest Relations among her many roles at the hotel Matilda III became the official greeter at the registration desk. Always eager to please when guests arrived from their domestic and international travels Matilda III hopped up on the desk to give them a warm greeting. “Meow, I love to be petted." she purred. To many guests Matilda, was a homey reminder that the cat-friendly hotel was a soft-hearted place where they could thoroughly relax after their long journey. Children particularly wanted to claim Matilda as their own. With gentle patience she allowed them to pet her but if a child tried to pick her up she made a regal escape.“I avoid being kidnapped by the little ones. It’s just not the proper way to behave,” she murmured, purring her displeasure.
Matilda III acquired many admirers but she did not let it go to her head. With her warm and friendly manner she put out the welcome mat, so to speak, and gave everyone a pleasant‘meow’ greeting. Reigning with all the regal rights of a monarch Matilda would sit on the reception desk and help guests check-in. She watched as they signed in and sometimes she put her stamp of approval, a paw print, on the registration form.“Some people are so needy,“ Matilda explained, “they need to know that they are officially registered at the Algonquin Hotel and my paw print is a seal of approval.”The Registration Clerk was not pleased about that paw print business, but he always welcomed Matilda III to sit on the desk and greet the guests.

Matilda as Directfurr In the meantime the hotel staff was ready to serve and accommodate Matilda’s every wish. She was given a darling little canopy bed with cushy pillows to sleep in but when Matilda wasn’t officiating as Directfurr she much preferred, I might add, to curl up and nap in every corner of the hotel’s historic lobby. Like the hotel’s gourmet menu in Round Table room, dining was a posh experience and Matilda was not disappointed. Gourmet cat meals were served and she drank her milk out of a champagne glass. In a gesture of privilege a little cat-friendly entrance was made on the door of the hotel’s luggage room to give Matilda access to the litter box. The hotel indulged Matilda’s every wish and inscribed the litter box with the name, Matilda III, in solid 24-carat gold.“Thank goodness for courtesy," Matilda declared. “It’s the kind of privacy I crave and it gives me easy access to my litter box.”“She was guarding the luggage cart and decided to take a nap where she remained all afternoon.
The Oak Room Cabaret One day Matilda heard that the delightful songbird, K.T. Sullivan was booked for a two-week engagement in the Oak Room Cabaret.This was an opportunity not to be missed and Matilda knew it.“I love it best,” she purred, “to listen to all the nostalgic songs that K.T. sings so tenderly."Matilda could not resist taking up her place at the rehearsal on thepiano accompanist‘s bench. There were always rewards for paying attention. Miss K.T. patted her head and the pianist allowed Matilda to rub up against his sleeve.
“I have enormous responsibilities,” Matilda disclosed. “Quite often I help to audition other singers and musicians for the cabaret, but they rarely know that I am there because I sit very quietly and nod my head in approval.”

Adventures in the Hotel Every day guests were coming and going off to sightseeing or business appointments.“Sometimes I wonder where everyone is going.” Matilda declared.“They seem to disappear into big boxes and when the door shuts they’re gone, where I do not know.”One day Matilda decided to find out where the big box was going so she sneaked into the elevator along with a nice friendly lady, who even smiled at Matilda. “Hello, Miss Pussy,” the lady said. “My, my, aren’t you the pretty one. You remind me of my sweet Adeline back home in Indiana.” Before Matilda could utter a word, like a magic carpet the elevator box whizzed them up to the thirteenth floor.“Lucky thirteen,” Matilda thought approvingly and when the doors opened she jumped out and followed the nice lady into her suite.“Come here, my pretty,” the Lady from Indiana said. “You’ll be a comfort to me during my stay.Matilda jumped up and sat on a plush cushion right next to the hotel’s guest and purred her appreciation. “Let’s order tea,” the Lady decided and promptly called room service.
“Room Service, this is the Dorothy Parker suite, please send up tea for two and oh yes, be sure to add a separate bowl of milk.”“Yes m’am, but might I inquire, ‘Is the bowl of milk for the Algonquin’s resident cat, Matilda?’”“Why yes, how did you know that she is here?”“It happens every day, Matilda just loves roaming the corridors or spends time with our guests, but please remind our Directfurr of Guest Relations that the cocktail hour is coming up.“Dear me,” you don’t mean that Matilda drinks?” the woman said with indignant concern.“No, no I’m sorry I gave the wrong impression but people like to catch a glimpse of Matilda near the Algonquin Round Table or in the lounge, where anyone can order a Matilda cocktail.”“Oh, my dear, don’t concern yourself. She’ll be off and running right after we had had our proper tea.”
MATILDA AT THE ROUND TABLE After tea Matilda remembered that she had some unfinished business so she pranced regally to the door and the kind Lady quite reluctantly let her leave the suite.
“Oh I have so much more to do,” Matilda exclaimed. “I have my own Twitter account and Facebook page but thank goodness I have an able assistant to help me with the typing.”And so another busy day was approaching twilight hour and Matilda returned to the famous Algonquin Hotel lobby.“Ta ta darlings!!!” Matilda III exclaimed. "I’m dashing off to the famous cocktail lounge to resume my duties as Directfurr of Guest Relations."
The maitre'd had already taken up his place at the reservation post.
"Do you have a reservation? He inquired of some soignee guests. "Yes, I see a party of four for the Round Table, right this way," and off the guests went to the famous Round Table with Matilda following to make sure the diners would assume their right places just like Dorothy, Edna, Woollcott and Thurber did so long ago.
This is the typical day in the life of Matilda III and she told me personally,
"I hope you have enjoyed reading about the secrets of my dream job. Come and visit me at the Algonquin sometime. Fan mail is always welcome at

Polly Guerin
PollyTalk From New York