My Cousin Dodie and Mr. Snitznoodle

My cousin Dodie died a couple of days ago. He was 91; the oldest of his familial cohort, though not the first to go. That leaves four of us: my cousins Carl and David, and my sister Sally, and me. We could have a tontine, but it might not be fair: I'm the youngest.

I have one vivid memory of Dodie from the beginning of World War II. I was a six-year-old; he was a young military officer. He came to our house one day all resplendent in his uniform; I was (and I think others were) n awe.

But here's a part I didn't put together until much later. Evidently I dragooned Dodie into singing "Happy Birthday" to my imaginary playmate, Mr. Snitznoodle. As I learned later, apparently my mother was mortified. But Dodie, by all the evidence, executed the assignment with grace and charm.

Recounting this story earlier today, I said that I hadn't heard of Mr. Snitznoodle since 1942. But then I set my mind to work. Surely so vivid and specific a figure--surely Mr. Snitznoodle could not have been original with me.




And--well, God bless Google. Straight from the files of the Oswego (NY?) Palladium, Dec. 11, 1923--the Adventures of Raggedy Ann and Raggedy Andy:

Just then Raggedy Andy and Mr. Wooky walked in. "Here's a new friend! Raggedy Andy said. "This is Mister Snitznoodle! he said.

The Snitznoodle ws very gentlemanly. He took off his hat and shook hands with everyone. "What sweet children you have, Mrs. Cook-it!" he said.

Let's stipulate that I wasn't around in 1923, but this is pretty much as I remember him. So, problem solved, at least in part. As I say, I lost track of him after that; I hope he had a good war.

Dodie, for his part, had a good war. So far as I know: in fact we never knew each other all tht well. At least he survived it, and a lot more besides: he married and raised a family and enjoyed a distinguished academic career, and died full of years and honor, quietly in his sleep.