The Dallas post. (Dallas, Pa.) 19??-200?, July 18, 1930, Image 2

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

    DALLAS POST, FRIDAY, JULY 18, 1930
ye Dallas Post
Established 1889
~ Published by -
~ rublication Office
President
Secretary
Risley. .Mng. Editor and 'I'reas.
Inaepenaent newspaper devoted
e great suburban and agricultural
or .he Greater West Side,
rising Dmllas and twenty-seven
unding communities.
ubscription, $2.00 Per Year.
(Payable in Advance)
territory which it serves to at-
the following major improve-
free library located in the Dal-
las region.
Better and adequate street light-
g in Trucksville, Shavertown,
Fernbrook and Dallas.
Sanitary sewage disposal system
for Dallas.
Closer cooperation between Dal-
: and surrounding
he appointment of a shade tree
commission to supervise the pro-
tection and see to the planting of
shade trees along the streets of
Dallas, Shavertown, Trucksville
and Fernbrook.
The formation of a Back Moun-
tain Club made up of business
men. and homeowners interested
in the development of local insti-
‘tutions, the organization of new
ones and the development of a
community consciousness in Dal-
las, Trucksville, Shavertown and
~ Fernbrook.
~ A modern concrete highway lead-
ing from Dallas and connecting
the Sullivan Trail at Tunkhan-
nock.
The elimination of petty politics
from Dallas borough council and
all school hoards in the region
covered by The Dallas Post.
And all other projects which help
‘make the Back Mountain sec-
tion a better place to live in.
—
HAPPY DAYS
is the season of the year when
small boy gets the most out of life.
Adolescent juveniles of today may
op in for golf and tennis, for motor-:
and more or less decorous bathing
jes in more or less modest cos-
s, but the small boy who hasn't
"any “teen” in his age gets his sum-
r fun in just about the way we did,
d our fathers and grandfathers be-
us. :
t least, if he doesn’t, he’s missing
nething of real value in his life and
ication.
is-one thing for a boy to go to a
fully-supervised summer camp or
study scientific woodcraft under the
elage of a scoutmaster. It is quite
other thing for him to roam around
e woods and pastures barefooted,
ummulating sunburn and stone-
ises and an immense amount of
ore about the habits of mud-turtles
d garter-snakes. Game laws mean
thing in his young life. He can get
> e of a thrill fishing for bullheads
d sunfish in the old millpond than
our fancy sportsman with his split
mboo rod and hand-tied flies ever
periences.
And when it comes to bathing, all
beaches in the world can’t com-
re with the old swimmin’ hole where |
never had to bother with a bathing
t, where girls were strictly banned,
d where you didn’t need a spring
rd to dive from. has
r truly lived who has not ex-
ienced the. sensation of a “belly-|
” that pretty nearly knocked the |
d out of him!
‘We do not learn about the world ws
/e in through eyes and ears alone.
e learn through our hands and our
et, the feel of sun and wind and rain
our bare bodies, the squash of mud
tween our toes, the heft of a hick-
ry limb compared with a willow. Only
ch intimate contacts with nature can
stablish a background against which
ife can be viewed in later years in
‘true perspective.
Do boys still whittle out of young
illow shoots? You hammer the bark
ently with the handle of your Barlow
fe—only it’s your Boy Scout knife
these days—and the bark peels off
n a perfect cyclinder which only needs
0 have the wood whittled to the prop-
shape and reinserted, to make a
histle to which any good dog will
pond. We had almost forgotten
dog. He is needed to make the
ture complete.
A boy, a dog, a jacknife, in the
untry in the summer—that is the
nbination which provides the only
fect happiness most of us ever had
No man
.
~ Foe of Noise :
i
Hiram Percy Maxim, inventor of
the Maxim silencer for frearms,
who says he will stop making guns
sient and try to make cities noise-
ess.
TRAFFIC LIGHT NEEDED
Hardly a week goes by that some
automobile doesn’t feature in a smash-
up on Main street, Dallas. The in-
tersection of Huntsville and Main
streets seems to be the most danger-
ous spot in town. This week there
were three smash-ups at that point.
Three automobiles featured in one of
the smash-ups.
Wyoming Valley drivers, anxious to
get to Harvey's Lake, race through
the streets of Dallas at 35 and 40
miles an hour. Dallas is simply an
obstruction in their path of progress.
The comfort of its citizens, shoppers
and pedestrians is not to be consid-
ered by the “wild asses of the maca-
dam” anxious to get to Harvey's Lake
on time for a dance or what not.
Speed’s the thing—and speed they do,
because they know they can get away
with it. A traffic light at the more
dangerous intersections in Dallas would
help to retard the speed of motorists.
Without police protection and with-
out a traffic light, Main street Dallas,
is now one of the most dangerous
streets in Luzerne county. Good
fortune and not foresight is all that
has prevented tragedy there.
THE “LOWER” HOUSE
Most observers of public affairs will
agree with Mr. Coolidge in his recent
statement that in the Congress which
adjourned the other day the House
‘of Representatives proved itself the
saner and more statesmanlike of the
two houses and went far toward re-
gaining its former prestige.
Certainly the performance of the
United States Senate is nothing for
the nation to be proud of. Instead
of being sedate, deliberate body which
it was intended to be and was for
many years, the Senate has become
the forum for the wildest and most
blamed, perhaps, upon the so-called
“popular” election of Senators; but
certainly a considerable number of
‘treat you who made no pretense to
irresponsible demogogy. This is a| @& condition of sufficient moment to.
condition which cannot be entirely be preserved
in films.
SELF-DRUGGING
It grows on people—the habit of
“taking something” for every little dis-
comfort they happen to feel. Self-
dosing is never the wise thing to do;
you would not employ a physician to
any knowledge of treating the sick or
indisposed; now, would you? Then
why do it to yourself?
A diagnosis of any indisposition is
necessary before any sort of intelli~
gent treatment can be instituted. Even
the intelligent may be
puzzled over the actual cause of a
given complaint, often a comparative-
physician
ly trivial, yet a very annoying thing.
Not long ago we met a lady who had
spent over $500 on a peculiar neu-
ralgic headache without more than
temporary relief; she had taken every
variety of “headache tablets” that she
heard of—seriously impairing her
blood and weakening her heart very
perceptibly; a doctor suggested exam-
ining her nasal passages and sinuses;
“0, there’s nothing wrong there—I
have no catarrh,” she insisted.
"Nevertheless a few treatments to re-
duce the swollen turbinates cured the
headache. :
Many elderly men in the western
section of our country are sure they
have “prostate trouble.” They hear
their symptoms accurately described
daily over the radio, by the adver-
tising miracle worker; they hear the
promise of absolute cure by a simple
operation—they make their own diag-
nosis, and drug themselves frantically
without benefit; they accept the fakir’s
“simple operation,” paying for it in
advance with all the money they can
scrape together; they reason that, if|
the quack were not honest, the govern-
ment would not permit him to broad-
cast his ballyhoo! A nasty mess,
isn’t it? They do broadcast just the
same; we are so busy trying to avoid
foreign entanglements that we haven't
time to protect our people from fraud!
Several men have recently lost their
lives because of their own gullibility,
according to newspaper reports, in one
of our western states.
luring in on
Fe iffics
|
A PENNSYLVANIA pair recently
’ married by shaking hands.
Even a nodding acquaintance with
some women holds its perils.
‘Al Jolson declares that many an
erstwhile prize cellar is now not
only down but out.
| “Rich But Honest” seems to he
Betty Comp-
ton, who was
|
Senators, whom we might name, could
never have got into the Senate in the
old days when State Legislatures
chose the members of the so-called
“Upper” House.
It was the House of Representatives
‘which was responsible for practically
all the constructive legislation which
the 7ist Congress has enacted thus
far. While Senators of both parties
were posing for individual effect and |
taking every possible opportunity to
give the President a slap in the face, |
the House of Representatives went |
about the public business in a business- |
like way and stood firmly against the
wildest and most impractical proposals
of the Senate.
The attempt to assert the authority |
and dominance of the Senate and to |
reduce the Presidency to the status of |
an office-boy has had some curious |
manifestations, but has aroused the|
laughter and derision of the public]
more than its sympathies. The re-|
jection of the President’s first nom-|
inee for Associate Justice of the Sup-|
reme Court, Judge Davis, was much |
more an attempt to “put the Presi-|
dent in his place” than because of any
real objection to Judge Davis.
No wonder that President Hoover |
said, when informed of the birth of|
his latest granddaughter, “I'm glad |
she doesn’t have to be confirmed by |
the .Senate.”
The Senate controls all important |
patronage, under the Constitutional
clause requiring its “advice and con-
sent” to major Presidential appoint-
ments. But in the last few weeks of
the session it became apparent, even
|
|
sentful of the Senate’s antics, The
President wisely refained from trying
to crack the whip over them. Appar-
ently he thought that if he gave the
Senate enough rope it would hang it-
self; and that is what has happened,
so far as the respect of the people is
concerned.
or will have,
to Senators, that the country was re-|
in the stage
version of “Fii-
ty Million
Frenchmen,”
will be in the
talkie Warner
Bros are
screening.
“Yesterday’s
Wife” rates as good entertainment
for girls seeking tomorrow’s Lus-
band.
|
|
Betty Compton
Much of the work “Down on tho
Farm” ‘is done “While New Yori
Sleeps.”
“Al's Fair in Love” and movie
plots.
{This Week’s Short Story
“So Long Letty”
“See My Lawyer.”
Tinkering With Film Titles
“The Phantom Butler” serves
guests with spirits.
“The Frontier of Stars” is
inarked by electric signs.
“The Man Who Lost Himself”
nas been found at the movies.
Professional Jealousy
“Who Am I?” asks one film.
“Who Cares?’ answers another,
“Getting Mary Married” some-
times provides a job for the whole
yamily.
His “Father’s Son”
“Barber John’s Boy” is a little
shaver who grows up to be a talker
-—in Vitaphone pictures.
Or
DID YOU KNOW
That Amos ‘n’ Andy are making a
talkie?
That Wilfred Glenn, basso
in the 'Atwater-Kent Hour, sang in
the first commercial broadcast? Be-
fore that he was a clerk in an Alaska
salmon cannery, which is a long way
from Buckingham Palace, where he
heard
3 [we Wouldnt
Be Surprised-
Says old John V. Businessa Holy
this
makin’ me feel
4 nea nbTT
mackerel /= Do you suppose
dad-busted foot is what is
oy Albert T. Reid
so bad all over ;
recently sang for the King and Queen.
in! NEW YORK
0.0. MEINTYRE
PARIS, France—The Bois is my no-
tion of earthly Elysium. Here Paris
relaxes, dreams and makes love. Its
mossy trees, rippling streams, shy
walks, dewy grass, wild flowers fling-
ing back the happy rays of the sun
and violet aura of sky speak per-
petually of beautiful secrets unknown
to man.
The Bois stands always with its pro-
tecting arms outstretched toward Paris
—a sheltering haven of cheerful love-
liness. Any day, rain or shine, the
carpeted green will be dotted with
sprawling figufes, like a battle field
after action, closely hugging the earth
—and lost in reverie.
One morning in one of its dells, soft
and velvety with the dead leaves of
centuries, a young
iZealist was stretch-
i ed out on his back
gazing at the sky
with the vacant
stare of -a dog that
had caught its tail
in a crack. Beside
him were a package
of cigarettes, a pho-
nograph and a
book of poems.
2 It was different,
8 E however, at the vil-
lage of Barbizon a few kilometers away
where the Barbizon school of art was
cradled in its timbered cup of ex-
quisite scenic beauty. We went, of
course, to worship at the little cottage
of the great painter Millet, preserved
intact for posterity. We visited with
awe his studio and beheld the easel at
which he sat while his immortal
“Angelus” escaped on canvas. We
stood reverently at the side of the bed
upon which the artist breathed his
last. We also walked by the studio
where Rousseau toiled and the hotel
where Robert Louis Stevenson lived
and wrote. Barbizon itself suggests a
Callot engraving come to life.
Paris is at its topmost best at 6:30,
when the Paris workers pop out on
the sidewalks and go laughing and
chattering home to dinner. Every-
body is touched by an indefinable
buoyancy and skips along. I would,
old fool that I am, have skipped a few
gutters myself if it had not been for
my recent bridge work.
It is quite childish, I suppose, to
leave Paris in a pout, for of all cities
over here I love and admire it most.
Yet it seems to me something should
be .done to save it from itself. I am
fully determined that I am never com-
ing to Paris again—that is to say, not
again this summer.
BRUSSELS, Belgium—We crossed
the Belgian frontier at Bettiones. The
custom officials, flossed up like drum
majors, seemed more interested in
watching the contestants of a country-
side motorcycle race flash by than ex-
amining our passports. Come to think
of it, I believe I would rather look at a
motorcycle race than most passport
pictures myself.
There was a great to-do in Brussels
upon our arrival. Everywhere the na-
tional colors were flying, bands play-
ing, and from thousands of throats
came the cry of “Vive la Belge!” 1
misinterpreted the cry at first and was
very embarrased. I thousht Brussels
had turned out to pay respects to the
results of my luncheon time shot of bi-
carbonate of soda. Dut it subsequently
developed all Belgium was honoring
the centennial of its independence.
Brussels is a reputed “little Paris.”
Architecturally there is a slight simi-
larity, and Brussels has its Bois and
Avenue Louise, strikingly like the
Champs Elysees. There, to me, at
least, the similarity ends. I felt at
once a kindlier and more friendly at-
titude toward foreigners.
One, too, is imp.essed, after gay
Paree, with the small number of side-
walk cafes and general sobriety. There
are many pavement drinkeries here,
but in near.y every one—and I made
a careful inspection—the tipple is light
beer or a mineral water. The people
also seem more
citable over frifies.
The proximity to Holland leaves its
gentlemen
mark in waddling with
feathers in their
hats puffing huge S-
shaped pipes. The
Belgians have a
large percentage of
blondes, both male
and female and the
ladies in many in-
stances are remark
able types of Flem- {&
ish beauty. \
I wonder if every-
body entering Brus-
sels at some time
or other does not think of Edith Cavell,
the martyred English nurse?
Short shavings—Marie Dressler is
taking the cure at a German Spa .... |
Karl K. Kitchen is.in Berlin writing |
30 articles on economics .... Arthur
Moss, of ‘The Villa-e, went to Paris for |
two weeks and has been there nine
years .. .. Flo Ziegfeld still telephones
Billie Burke four times a day . . . .
Bide Dudley was once manager of a
wagon cirgus-. ... Joe Leblang, the cut
rate ticket man, owns several New
York skyscrapers . . . . George Ber-
nard Shaw subscribes to six American
clipping bureaus.
(® 1930, McNaught Syndicate. Inc.)
LAUGHIF YOU CARE TO
By Russell Weaver
MARRIAGE
Modern is just
cafeteria. A man grabs what looks nice
to him and pays for it later.
marriage like a
QUIT RIGHT
A young Scot and his lady
were strolling past a movie
displayed the following
electric lights:
“THE WOMAN PAYS”
“I think we'll be going here.”
said the Scot, with a big smile.
friend
theatre
which in
in
[
PARDON MY SCOTCH GAG.
Kiltie—“How do you feel
petting 7”
Lass—“Nothing will make me.”
Keltie— ‘You're just the girl for me.”
PREDARDENESS
A student failed in an examination
in all five subjects he took. He tele-
graphed to his brother: “Failed in all;
five. Prepare papa.”
The brother telegraphed back:
“Papa, prepared. Prepare yourself.”
fi
alert and less ex- |
. .
Radio Topics
The humble beginning of the fore~
most artists form one of the most in-
teresting chapters. in the history of
radio broadcasting. Tenors have
started as cow chauffeurs, truck
drivers and road graders; while girls
have begun in the “5 and 10.” Many
the inauspicious beginnings were at
arduous, ill-paying labor. A trip to
the Columbia Broadcasting studios
reveals a few famous radio star's
start in life.
Freddie Rich, for example, who
conducts sixteen radio programs
weekly, became a pianist in a shabby
motion picture house at the age of:
thirteen and received but $13 a week
for his ten hours of improvised music
a day.
Ered Vettel, tenor soloist, was sev-
enteen when he produced his first job
of driving a = brick truck. “His sole
interest at that time was to secure the
amateur light-heavyweight boxing
| championship of New York. :
Lon McAdanms, of the “Round-
towners Quartet,””, was but eleven
when he became a cattle driver. His
salary of $12 monthly was a good
wage for Kansas cowboys at that
time.
‘Ben Alley, tenor, sang as he re~
moved bumps from the roads in West
Virginia. Yet his salary of $12 weekly
| was only for his comstruction worl
[Now he gets paid for his singing alone.
Hat checker at various dances in the
| suburb of New York was the begin~
| ning of the career of Bert Lown, direc-
| tor of the Biltmore Orchestra.
Will Osborn’s first job in 1924 net-
ted him $18 a week. He played in a
five piece orchestra at the Wayne
| County Club, Pennsylvania.
| rman
ANDY—wut fo’ yo’ gib me back my
ring, gal? Who am de man?
| Tell me dat.
| MADAME QUEEN— No’ no’ Andy.
lucky
| Yo’ might hurt him.
ANDY—Don’ worry, gal. Ah jist
| wants to sell him de ring.
|
| B. A. Rolfe, conductor of the B. A.
| Rolfe Lucky Strike Orchestra tells
| this one himself: *
“I had saved up over a month’s
| earnings, hidipg it under my shirts
in the bureau drawer. One night 1
| came home ,to be told of burglars
| operating in the building. The next
| morning I dashed to the bank with my
| money to deposit it in a safe place.
| There were a great many other de-~
|'positors crowding about the window
| and lines .were extending into the
| streety But being a smart fellow (even
at that time) I dashed around to a
| private entrance on a side street and
about | safely deposited my golden hoard.
| The next day I learned that the
| crowds were caused by @a run on the
| bank, which was reported to be az
| little baggy at the knees financially.
| Now I send my pay check to my Aunt
| Amanda.
|
Amos—Luk yeah, Andy. Can yo’
tell me one of de uses of cowhide?
Andy—Sho, Sho. It keep de cow to-
gether.
1
— wi -
}
|
{
|
i
pr
x
3 =