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M «/' * i-hw *« 30 i« i ii turn ,-W'''<»^. *«£C* v. * . 4* - *. **. >* *>' „. -• :• j s^aas :*-• &£ mm, !? i* 3E ft. 7>*a . • id ii'--«» t- i*'sL. V06. Mm . * X «f ^^rp i ^fl - V \? Ji ' SECTION THREE when Picasso seemed There were days at the villa Ever when Generalissimo Francisco Franco's since 1938, to be the most homesick man fascist Falangistas in the world. won the Spanish Pablo Picasso had boycotted his homeland. Surely, the spiritual price he paid was enormous. Few Spaniards could ever have been more typically Spanish than the Maestro.

We'll join the circus, or the Folies Bergere, or the movies — and make a thousand of every individual million francs ! ' was that same Easter Sunday when I first discovered there was one minor art which Picasso had never mastered. Jacqueline had spent hours in the kitchen that morning helping France, her part-time maid, to prepare a real holiday banquet. Their most loving efforts went into charIt 61 — coal-broiling a chicken duction own when it and stuffing it with almonds. ," speared the bird onto where he carved it.

The doctor's professional interest in Picasso was probably matched by his personal curiosity about the Maestro 's somewhat bizarre tweed trousers with their glaring black and white horizontal stripes. We who were around the villa daily thought nothing of them, in fact they were even on the conservative side— compared with others he was saving upstairs. But strangers visiting the house for the first time, or old-timers who had been away for a while, were usually stopped absolutely cold when Picasso would first appear in those pants— especially if it happened in the garden where the sun hit the pattern full strength.