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“Madam Perkins.” They couldn't bring themselves to say “Miss.”

This “Madam Perkins” hangs over me to this day. People who ought to know better use that combination of “Madam” and “Perkins.” A lady only the other day, who is the wife of one of the leading, perhaps the leading, literary critic of this country, and who is a very charming and well-bred lady, spoke to me as “Madam Perkins.” Being called “Madam Perkins” is one of the things that gets me down. I don't know why.

When I was referred to, by some of these ignorant newspaper people, as “The Madam,” I took that better than I do “Madam Perkins.” I don't know why. Although “The Madam” has a distinctly nasty connotation, which I don't think they knew when they used it, it still doesn't bother me as much as “Madam Perkins.” Most of them had no disrespect in their hearts usually, though sometimes the did. Of course, the servants around the house will call you “The Madam” sometimes. In the country, where we have more people working for us than in the city, I often have heard them, long before I was Secretary of Labor, say, “Well, what will The Madam say about this? What does The Madam want?” That just means, “What will the lady of the house want?”

On the first occasion when I heard “The Madam” when I was Secretary of Labor I'm sure it was not meant to be flippant or disrespectful. It was just sheer ignorance of