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[Black and white photograph of the writer signed to the writer of the article]

[Caption] Kenneth Roberts, Kennebunk, Maine Author.

BY ALICE FROST LORD

Until yesterday Kenneth Roberts to the writer was but a name, a distinguished name, to be sure, but only a name. Mention him and one thought of his long association with the Saturday Evening Post as staff correspondent, of his novels increasing in fame with the later production of "Arundel", "The Lively Lady" and "Rabble in Arms", and of his connections with Maine as a resident of Kennebunk Beach and an "agitator of the people" in the modern cause of roadside and community beautification.

Until yesterday he was a literary light hiding securely under the bushel of a small Maine coast resort, as far as personal accessibility is concerned. Banish the thought that Kenneth Roberts could endure living in a nitch [niche] in a shrine sought by pilgrims. Seclusion, quiet, a chance to work uninterruptedly, and beauty all around him, in his home, in his study, and thruout [throughout] the tiny community of which he is so important a part -- this is his taste and to a remarkable degree his achievement.

Accent on this situation was given by discovery that no telephone connections link the author with the outside world. No tinkling bell by day or night distracts. Business and social life is pushed back around the poplar corner and over the oak-shade knoll, where the macadam runs beachwise and inns and shops cluster.

Kenneth Roberts keeps his hand on the tiller and sailropes of his days, and manages his precious craft of hours against adverse winds of modern usages and interruptions. One feels the even keel of busy weeks in this study that is a transfigured stable. Hid behind a walled-in court where apple-trees grow Japanese-fashion, flat against the facade, and where pansy borders flourish, he charts and follows his course thru history and romance.

But when one once penetrates his seclusion, Mr. Roberts surrenders completely to the transient demand upon his time. He has been a reporter and special writer, back in his Boston Post days. Under his skin he is sensitive to the feelings of this clan of wandering question-marks, and sympathetic with their struggles against obstacles.

Ieadlnar to second-floor quarters for sleeping also gave access to hangIng book-cases tn w·h lch Mr. Roberta keeps Intimate data. on current books he ls Wl"lting. Paintings and old engravings ot historical Interest caught the eye; but the two impressive features, apart from the man. himself, were n eight-foot eagle that once or-

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.namented with. unusual grace of form and line the first aupreme court building In this country and whloh Is now hung against the · balconT at the rear, and an unique fireplace that projected Into the room at tll.e opposite end. something. like an Eskimo Igloo In white plaster. An high-backed, tapestry covered chair that might have come out of some palace scraped the boards. The occupant rose alertly-and the welcome, vigorous and warm, was Beautification "Our Maine vacationland!,. Ike ejaculated, with an Immediate conver.sational dive tnto the aubject

neanu1t his hea.l"t, outside of bla 1 books. People may not Uke to hear It,. but all up and down our coast officials are doing their best to wreck the State!" There wa~ conviction here. "See what 111 being done, or not being done, to bring into .Maine and 1 keep here the people who are most deslrable--peopla who will establish their summer homes along our eoast. pay substantial taxes and ensure the future welfare of the State. Southern Ma.lne is caterlng almost entirely to tawdriK h Rober._, Kennebunk, ennet "" ness and impermanence. Wh)r, we Ken neth R,obet'ts keeps his hand a1·en't In Maine until we cross the BY ALICE FROST LORD r on the tiller and sailropes of his Kennebec!" NTIL yesterday K enneth Rob- , days a.n<t manages his precious...::.'.:.':'..'.:'.::::'..'.:::::..:_ _____ _--:--::---:-.erts to the writer was but a craft of . hours against adverse I Mr. Roberts needed no jocke~1{:lg nune, a distinguished name, winds of m.odern u·s ages and inter· 1, to swing Into his pace on feei8 to be sure, but only a name. r uptions. One feels the even keel o! familiar theme. He wa~don hliuring 1 l~w~spokeb Mention blm and one thought of busy weeks in this study that is a his eyfili 1lf8hin;, bis fong association with the Sat- trans figured st&ble. · Hid behind a out w u;~P~ of a gentleman. arday Evening Post as eta.ft cor- walled-In court where apple-trees atter. the hmastrode around his big respondent. of his novels increasing grow Japanese-fashion, flat against J;!rr!Df~d ~uddeoly sat down again. In fame with the later produc\~on the facade, and where pansy bord"They tell me the State has com" Arundel", "The Lively Lady an era flourish, he charts and follows mltted a new billboard atrocity "Rabble in Arms", a.nd of hill con- hlii course thru history and neotlona with Maine as a. resident romance. this sea.son down this way; and of Kennebunk Beach a.nd an "a.g!taBut when one once penetrates his look at what summer visitors, tor of the people" In the modern secl usion Mr. Roberts surrenders whom we invite h ere, see as they ca.use of roadside and community completeiv to the transient debeauti!l<:a.tlon. mand upon his time. He has been cross this part of the State: ReglUntll yesterday be was a liter- a reporter and special writer, back ments ot telephone poles! Acres of In his Boston Post days. Under his overnight camps! Wlnrows of billary light hiding securely under •kln he Is sensitive to the feelings boards, and more billboards! bushel of a small Maine coast re- of this. clan of wandering question- they any fewer since the campaign 111>rt, u far as personal acessibility marks, and sympathetic with their , started against them at Augusta.? le concerned. Banish the thought struggles a.gains~ obstacles. No! Nor have the legislators done Morning sunshine outlined the more than to license them and that Kenneth Roberts could endure 11:>untaln.-tigure among the flowers, drive them back certain distances lfvlng In a nltch ln a shrine sought . making one think of Margaret De· from the highway. They have not 1,y pilgrims. Seclusion, quiet, a land's strange bronze nestled in a restricted them to commercl&l chance to work uninterruptedly, and birch-cluster at her river-side cot- , areas. Thousands of letters of probeauty all around him, in his home, tage & mile or two eastward. Mrs. test In the office of the Maine Publicity Bureau prove that in his study, and thruout the tiny • Deland was out for an afternoon ple with brains regard the peobllleommunlty or which he is so Im- social affair, later that same \tay, boarded sections of southern Maine portant a part-this is his taste and and could not be seen; but in her as residential slums; and a slum to a re.markable degree his achieve- cloistered retreat wa• spied the never was worth anything to a.nT111.ent. engaging garden-etatue body. 8 am e Accent on thlii: situation was giv- 1 which had found photographic "Do not mistake me," he added, en by discovery that no telephone record by the writer a decade ago. as he rose again and backed against connections link the author with Thru an arohed doorway at the table and typewriter, as If by the outside world. No tinkling bell Roberts' study, carefully screened, standing he could better visualize by day or night distracts. Business came the fa.mllla.r click of type- the picture before his mind. and social life ls pushed back keys. The author was at his day's "I recognize the right of people around the poplar corner and over I work. A tap, and a robust voice to have access to our wondertul the oa.k-shadb- knoll, where the ma.- called, "Come In!" ocean front, but not to make a. mess ca.dam runs beachwlse and inns What • a room! The roof was of It. Give them parking area.a well and shops cluster. hlgh. The stable-like size ensured .back from the shore, from which spaciousness, but the tall wall- 1 they may walk, as the rest of us spaces were broken on two sides summer cottagers walk, to enjoy the I by_ a narrow balcon.,r with slender , beach and rocks! But don't let them railing; and an open-stairway make ·lite hideous with their automobiles, their noise and their debris!"

[Handwritten note: Lewiston Journal Aug. 3, 1935]