Nation: Doing the L.BJ.

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No one could quite recall why Danish Prime Minister Jens Otto Krag had come to Washington. But no one who attended it would ever forget that his visit precipitated the swingiest wingding the White House had seen in years. "It was the best of my life, and I'm going to tell King Frederik," vowed comely

Mrs. Krag, better known to Danes as Movie Star Helle Virkner. "Your President really knows how to give a party."

"Reasoning Together." The evening began quietly enough with a fox trot, the only step that Lyndon Johnson has ever been known to execute—whatever the music. Then Johnson urged Daughter Luci to Watusi with Fiance Patrick Nugent. From then on, in the words of one bystander, it was "Copenhagen a Go-Go." Lady Bird Johnson, topping the bill with Hubert Humphrey, bolted into a frenetic frug and a whirling Watusi. "Why," gasped one sideliner when Lady Bird started to swing, "she's doing the whole screaming bit!"

So did about all of the 200 invited guests, divided—in deference to Danish jollity and Mrs. Krag's profession—between Washington's with-it set and showbiz notables. Even Press Secretary Bill Moyers, an ordained Baptist teacher, fell into the heady rhythm, joining with Lady Bird's Press Secretary Liz Carpenter in some daring aberrations that bystanders called the "L.BJ." and the "Valenti." In the L.B.J., more caricature than choreography, they shuffled around the floor to the rhythm of the hitchhike, punching each other on the shoulder, "reasoning together," dialing imaginary telephones, grasping hands in the presidential flesh-press. For the Valenti, a simple jig by comparison, they went through the motions of a man reaching into his pockets and throwing out dollar bills, a kinetic play on Presidential Aide Jack Valenti's huge salary in his new job as head of the Motion Picture Association (see The Administration).

"Fantastic." While Prime Minister Krag took a few sedate turns around the floor, Lyndon Johnson spread charm as if his name were Jensen. He foxtrotted with Helle Krag, 40, for the first half of the evening, gave her over to frugging Hubert Humphrey for the second half, then went on to twirl with women who did not have husbands. In the East Room, Humphrey was hardly No. 2. The President danced very well, Mrs. Krag was careful to observe. But the Vice President, she marveled, was nothing less than "fantastic." Only slightly plagiarizing Lerner and Loewe, she exclaimed: "I could have danced until 7 in the morning!"

After five hours of uninterrupted whoopdedoo, Bandleader Lee Evans pointedly played The Party's Over—over and over. After five reruns he switched to Hello, Dolly!, Lyndon's campaign theme. That was a mistake. Johnson jumped up for a quick twirl around the floor—and then seven more. What could Evans do? In desperation, the band plunged Deep in the Heart of Texas. The crowd clapped for more. Finally, at 3 a.m., Evans struck up Good Night Ladies, and with its dying strains Lyndon Johnson reluctantly left the floor. Next year he can expect King Frederik.