Remember all those royal peepys written about the Windsor girls when they were growing up assured? That deprecating tone about their goldfish bowl existence (all the while promoting more publicity) and the gentle sadness over how they were about to be bowlegged under the Burdens of State and Duty? Mr. Hall tries to do something along these lines for the Johnson girls. The method worked more easily, if supremely sudsily, in Hall's 1964 soap-opus with Ann Pinchot, Jacqueline Kennedy. But Jacqueline Kennedy picking at Quiche Lorraine can be more readily subjected to this approach than the hardy Johnson girls whuffling up their spoon bread. And, for the Windsor girls, the delicate kick was supposed to come in being shown how really ordinary they were despite the gallons of thin, blueblood that had united and spilled into their little veins. However, the Johnson girls are ordinary in a healthy, American way. The LBJ's brung 'em up that way 'a purpose. 99 44/100's of this book has been in the ladies' mags and in the newspapers. Mr. Hall has avoided the use of all tactless references to George Hamilton's draft status, Luci's redundant re-baptism or the Johnson radio/tv holdings. Instead, there is a padded section among the puffs dealing with Lady Bird's predecessors at the White House. Lady Bird will, like Harry Truman, just have to write a book of her own some day. The commercial biographers always replace the woman's starch and salt with corn mush.