go
By javie
SECOND THOUGHTS
Nl ax 4
ONEYMOON"
aiche
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You turn left at the A & P store,
Lutherland. In a matter of minutes
~ There, too, you bear left to the stone bridge, over which you make a
right turn and three hundred feet straightaway to the junction of the
~ black-top and the dirt road. Then you are at the portal of heaven.
off the main highway as it enters
you confront the Economy store.
Each heaven must have its pur-
~ gatory. So, if you are adventurous,
you may take a mountain road
through the laurels, and, by devious
turns and coaster grades, you will,
if careful, achieve the same destina-
tion. I am pointing you to the pres-
ent habitat of all my second
: ‘thoughts, my best ones; for, in keep-
ing with long-repressed desires, I
have at last taken to the woods, this
time with my family.
Good people find the traveling
good to out-of-the-way places. For
instance, the Right Reverend Mon-
signor McAndrew, who drives a cir-
cuit no ancient rider of the gospels
could have tackled, with as much
as twenty miles between two given
points for his masses. And the
artist, Gretchen Kirchman, with
escort. And Kasimer Resenkas,
lately out of Lithuania. From these
and others it is possible to learn
a lot. :
With the Monsignor McAndrew
the talk is all of peace; with Kasi-
mer Resenkas it is all of war. The
‘good priest has clients as far apart
in the human scale as the very
wealthy who spend the heated sea-
son at Blooming Dale Country Club,
and this commentator whose week-
ly expenditure would see the apo-
plectic Blooming Dalians through
only a day’s necessities.
- Good friend Kasimer is full of
- wonderment, most of it about the
movement of the United States in
to the European conflict. He cau-
tions against the error. His own
country, he said, was a shambles
of bad government, and the only
worse one in the world he exper-
ienced in Poland.
There is another member of the
company in our neck of the woods. |
“A French priest, he is named “Pax.”
Imagine! Imagine having the name
of ‘Peace” in its Latin form, and
with the involvement of being a
Frenchman exiled from a conquered
country. He refuses to speak of
‘war excepting to lead prayers that
soon it will end—without partici-
pation by the last free people who
mean anything to the world’s future.
How concentric are the paths we
take I have learned too well. My
landlord, who held the prize in a
grab-bag search for a mountain
home, finally was revealed as the
son of a physician who tried to
save—but was unable—one to
whom your commentator once had
pledged his life and hope, for better
or for worse, until death doth part.
Both are gone; neither is forgotten.
At Sunday services we made up
a pot for the French priest's or-
phans, all of them Americans. He
_ sought nothing for the land beyond
the seas. He didn’t say so but he
seems to believe that for the mo-
ment all that is worth saving is
America. Eleven were at dinner on
our first Sunday and if the gods
are kind there shall be at least Fred
Kiefer and Edna for a couple of
days before their wonderful hunting
tour to Alaska.
The August moon comes up
through a pine grove and traces its
orbit across the near shore of the
THE LOW DOWN FROM
HICKORY GROVE
If you squint over the
shoulder of the person
next to you on the train
or wherever you are, you
will see, 9 times in 10,
that it is the picture page
they are perusing.
Away back yonder,
years ago, a chewing to-
bacco outfit always adver-
tised with just pictures—
no reading matter. Folks
who chewed couldn’t read,
they said. But I don't
know if it is the same
now, with people who
look at the funnies versus
reading editorials, etc.
But anyway I just run
into a picture of a fellow,
where it showed him
scratching his head and
looking at a calendar. He
was pondering plenty.
The artist had fixed up
the calendar so you could
see, if you work 5 days a
week, you work all day
Monday and part of Tues-
day to pay taxes. You
only keep the money
you earn on Wednesday,
Thursday and Friday, and |
part of Tuesday.
The picture was not on
the funny page, but if you
missed it, you don’t need
"to worry. The tax collec-
tor, when he rings the
door bell, he will tell you
all about it. He is quite a
duck, that way.
Yours with the low down,
JOE SERRA
=
lake. Crows are our principal bird
callers, and being no ornithologist
I cannot explain why. It is some-
thing about pine odors having no
lure for the songsters. Fishing is
terrible, bathing is good, the nights
are cold and the fireplace com-
fortable.
My five-year-old helped yester-
day, or tried to, when I started bail-
ing out the boat. With back turned
to her I wondered why there was
no recession in the water level. I
reversed, and there she was dump-
ing water out of the lake into the
boat, instead of vice versa.
“Babs!” I called. “That’s not the
way. Why are you putting water
from the lake into the boat?”
The five-year-old regarded me
with disdain, wide-eyed in dismissal
of my question. And then she said:
“They’s mo’ it this way,
Daddy.”
Maybe there's a moral there. Why
is it that we don’t take what is
handiest to enjoyment? There real-
ly is more of it, isn’t there?
of
OUR DEMOCRACY
by Mat
~ 32,600,AS COM
LIFE INSURANCE COMPANIES, SO INTERESTED IN
PREVENTING UNTIMELY DEATHS, POINT OUT THAT IN
1939 ONLY 600 MORE ACCIDENTAL DEATHS
OCCURRED ON THE HIGHWAYS THAN AT HOME.
PARED TO 32,000.
Ann 7
Ts
PLAY SAFE AT HOME, WHERE IN 1939 MORE
THAN S0% OF ALL ACCIDENTS OCCURRED.
‘HOME ACCIDENT TOTAL=-1939,— 4,732,000.
2.7 p
a
.
AC EVE
7s
X
SIMMERING—Price control legis-
lation, the new tax bill, and eastern
gas rationing all have sort of set-
tled down for summer simmering
on the back of the business stove
. . . but retail trade is in front, and
sizzling! Instead of usual hot-weath-
er lull, this summer is proving by
far the best that retailers have
known in more than a decade. In-
creased purchasing power traceable
to defense “boom” is the dormant
factor, of course, but lately ‘scare
buying” has been increasing as con-
sumers tend to purchase beyond
their current needs because of
threats of shortages and price rises.
This is especially true in the case
of durable goods and staple clothing.
One men’s clothing chain is show-
ing a gain of 51.4 per cent over last
year, and big mail order companies
which do a substantial business in
durable consumers’ items, have had
gains ranging from 30 to 42 per
cent. A somewhat exaggerated ex-
ample of how shortage and price-
rise apprehension affects consumers
is visible right now in the frantic
rush at the silk stocking counters.
KNOWING HOW-—The defense
production program has produced
what seem to be some ‘strange bed-
fellows” of industry—in assigning
certain companies to handle defense
jobs not closely akin to their reg-
ular operations. Rat trap makers
are turning out army cots; pipe or-
gan makers are making saddle
frames; adding machine manufac-
turers are making automatic pis-
tols; makers of cream separators are
turning out gun tripod mounts—
and so it goes. On closer inspection
of many of these cases it is found
that there is, after all, a basic kin-
ship between the materials, or tools,
or factory set-up for these com-
panies’ regular production, and the
defense-goods production. In other
cases there is almost no physical
relationship whatever, but estab-
lished industrial organizations get
the War Department call to operate
new defense enterprises simply be-
cause of the need for proven skill
in management of big operations.
Most recent example is organization
of the Lone Star Defense corpora-
tion to construct and operate a
BEHIND THE SCENES IN AMERICAN BUSINESS
“More than a newspaper,
a community institution”
THE DALLAS POST
ESTABLISHED 1889
A non-partisan liberal
progressive newspaper pub-
lished every Friday morning
at its plant on Lehman Ave-
nue, Dallas, Penna., by the
Dallas Post, Inc.
Entered as second-class matter
at the post office at Dallas, Pa,
under the Act of March 3, 1879.
Subscriptions, $2 a year, payable
in advance.
‘Single copies, at a rate of 5c
each, can be obtained every Fri-
day morning at the following
newsstands: Dallas; Hislop’s Rest-
aurant, Tally-Ho Grille; Shaver-
town, Evans’ Drug Store; Hunts-
ville, Frantz Fairlawn Store.
Editor and Publisher
HOWARD W. RISLEY
Associate Editors
MYRA ZEISER RISLEY
WARREN F. HICKS
Contributing Editors
FRED M. KIEFER
JOHN V. HEFFERNAN
Mechanical Superintendent
HAROLD J. PRICE
$78,940,000 government ordnance
plant near Texarkana, Tex. It was
organized as a subsidiary of the B.
F. Goodrich company, pioneer rub-
ber concern, and the latter’s man-
agement personnel was given re-
sponsibility for construction and op-
eration of the plant, where about
8,000 persons will be employed in
loading shells and bombs.
THE FARM BUSINESS—The ris-
ing generation of American farmers
bids fair to be much better ‘“busi-
ness men’ than its Dads and Grand-
dads. Besides learning production-
line growing technique, they're
studying closely the economics of
movement of farm products to their
ultimate destination—the nation’s
dinner tables—and winning scholar-
ships, en route. Last week three
farm youngsters won college schol-|
arships awarded by the A & P at
the National Junior Vegetable
Growers’ Association meet in Col-
umbus, Ohio, for their first-hand
studies of “marketing problems as a
key factor in determining farm in-
come.” The winners are Miss Louise
Mullen of Stafford, N. Y., Wayne
Leimbach of Vermillion, Ohio, and
Emerson Higgard of North Hadley,
Massachusetts. In competing for
the scholarship scores of farm
youngsters studied the various
methods of distribution by which
produce is moved from farm to
market—the old-line system by
which produce reaches the consum-
er only after passing through the
hands of numerous middlemen, and
the modern streamlined mass-dis-
tribution system, pioneered by chain
stores, which rushes vegetables to
the housewife with a minimum of
steps and waste along the way.
BITS O’BUSINESS—Don’t expect
to see ‘any definite percentage fig-
ures on how much production of
autos—and refrigerators, washing
machines, etc.—is to be curtailed;
the raw material situation is such
that these industries, and the de-
fense officials, will just have to go
along, doing the best they can,
month to month—predictions are
out . . . Nation’s department store
sales for
showed another 27 per cent gain
over same week last year . .. Farm
commodities still exempt from price-
control legislation draft — their
prices would have to hit 110 per
cent of “parity” before being sub-
ject to ceilings; at maximums, that
would mean about $1.29 a bushel
for wheat; 94c a bushel for corn;
26¢c a pound for flue-cured tobacco;
$1.19 a bushel for rice, and 18c a
week ending August 2
THE SENTIMENTAL SIDE
By EDITH BLEZ
comes and everybody seems to be on
I believe most of us are adventurers at heart and when summer time
the move, and the newspapers and
magazines are filled with publicity about trips here and there, and the
roads are jammed with the great American tourist, I find myself so filled
with the Wanderlust it is about all I can do to really keep it under control.
I don’t believe I ever stop to chat
with anyone without beginning the
conversation with, “Have you been
away?” It is really ridiculous to
worry myself into a state of wander-
lust because I really must stay put
but I have found a fairly good sub-
FOOTNOTES
By EMMONS BLAKE
stitute, and that is books of travel
and adventure!
Just this past week I have been
having a marvelous time wandering
around the world on a full-rigger
skippered by Allan Villiers. Surely
most of you who read very much
have heard somewhere about Allan
Villiers and the Danish training ship
he bought when he saw it in the
harbor at Copenhagen. He had
thought for some time that he would
like to purchase a small ship and
sail around the world, and he want-
ed to do it by sail—not with the
aid of an engine. He had contact-
ed all sorts of people and agencies
with no luck, because not any of the
ships he saw appealed to him, until
his eyes lit on the Danish sailing
ship which had been used for
years as a training ship for boys
who wanted to follow the sea.
He inquired about the ship and
when he was informed it was for
sale he almost ran to talk with the |
owners. He fell in love with the
ship and it wasn’t very long before
it belonged to him. He didn’t have
a great deal of money but he man-
aged to buy the ship and put it in
condition. He employed several
able seamen and then took boys
who were willing to pay part of
their way with the idea of training
them in the ways of the sea and
sailing ships. He really didn’t want
to take paying guests because he
expected all hands on board to work
hard because Allan Villiers had
i sailed before in sailing ships and if
he was to sail around the world in
the last full-rigged boat afloat he
knew he would have plenty on his
hands. He was more than willing
to take the chance because he loved
the sea and sails and the thrill of
sailing in strange waters and meet-
ing new people.
I really believe I have managed
to stall some of my wanderlust with
“Cruise of The Conrad.” I have
been in strange places. I have
ploughed through rough seas and
I have been in great calms and I
have sailed into harbors where life
was so fantastic it seemed like some
story drawn up in the fancy of the
author. I have been to Rio de Jan-
eiro and had a marvelous time in
Australia. I have met men in all
ports of the world, men who came
to see the ship because they were!
sick for the sight of a full-rigged
boat. I have met men who have
sailed all over the world, men who
have grown old in the ways of the
sea.
a I met an old negro who had sailed
m “hell ships” and after a life of
hair-raising experiences he settled
on a remote island in the Pacific as
the companion of a white man who
had married a native Princess. He
had the strange idea that he too
was white, he evidently thought it
was the only way he could distin-
guish himself from the hundreds of
natives he felt were far beneath him.
I have been in Bali where tour-
| ists have partly spoiled what might
have been a perfect existence. I
have seen lovely native dances per-
formed for days at a time, dances
which the Missionaries had tried to
stamp out, dances which were beau-
tiful in their simplicity. I have been |
on islands where the natives Yer!
lieved that children were given to!
their wives by unseen spirits which
lived in the surrounding waters.
pound for cotton . . . Look for open-
mesh hose, in colors, and made of
cotton, as relief for silk hosiery
shortage; also hose with cotton or
rayon tops and feet; du Pont ex-
perts expect to be producing enough
nylon yarn for 40 per cent of na-
tion’s hosiery by end of the year.
BOOK REY
| EW
The Road to the Temple
By Susan Glaspell. 445 pages.
$2.75. Frederick A. Stokes
Company.
Reviewed by Ralph D. Goldberg,
24 Fifth Ave., New York City.
The warm sun-basking laziness
of the Mississippi River shares
memories and pages with the sub-
limity of the Greek countryside
that Longinus knew centuries ago
. . . and that Susan Glaspell recalls
in “The Road to the Temple,” a
beautiful biography of her husband,
George Cram Cook.
This superb tribute was written
in 1926. It is now published with
a new Foreword by the author, be-
cause, as she says, “Events seem
to have caught up with it . . . The
past that he loved has come into
the living moment.”
In the year of 1941, while George
Cram Cook, who was drawn to
Greece as the homeland of culture
and beauty, lies buried in the
shadow of the Shining Rocks of
Delphi, those magnificent Greeks
again surprised and thrilled the
world . .. :
“We saw other small nations out-
numbered, terrified . . . give in. We
understood this, for what else could
they do? Then the Greeks . . .
Why, the Greeks are holding! The
Greeks are driving them back! By
heavens, the Greeks are going to
fight!”
. . . Yes, they made their heroic
effort, and whatever the outcome,
a surprised civilization has a new
debt to the Greek people.
would George Cram Cook have been
surprised? Susan Glaspell says,
“No!” His days were in large part
with the peasant and shepherd, but
when he died, the Greek govern-
ment decreed that one of the great
stones from the fallen Temple of
Apollo be moved to serve as his
headstone.
George Cram Cook indeed loved
life . . He loved his Mississippi
heritage . . . His childhood, with its
friends and petty enemies, its sur-
prises and disappointments. He
loved all of the events of his life
and times . . . and unwearyingly
kept copious notés of the myriad
But | -
of seemingly unimportant incidents
that were later combined into this
forcible volume.
Susan Glaspell gives a vivid pic-
ture of the Greek people, of their
customs, their traditions, and their
inborn love for liberty . . . But she
does not ‘overlook “Jig” Cook’s
“Tom Sawyerish” boyhood on the
shores of the Mississippi, his typi-
cally American love for baseball . . .
his years at Harvard, Heidleberg
. or that period in Greenwich
Village when, along with “a young
Irish chap by the name of ’Gene
O'Neill,” he strove to produce “Em-
peror Jones” for the first time on
I have been in cities all over the
world. I have sailed the seas in
la ship which stood up in all kinds
|of weather. I have sailed with a
i skipper who loved his ship, a skip-
per who thrilled to her beauty, al
skipper who had such confidence in|
his ship there could be no fear of |
wind or water. |
My itchy feet and wanderlust- |
filled heart have been somewhat sat-.
isfied by “Cruise of The Conrad”
| ==
Mail time, in a small prairie
town, is the high spot of the day.
In a big city, a high percentage of
the mail consists of bills, and the
heaviest work of the year is in the
handling of the Christmas load. In
our post office, the bulk of the mail
is in penciled letters, and the load
comes when the new mail-order cat-
alogues are released.
The post office is a small room,
divided lengthwise by the bank of
boxes. The wall opposite the doors
is a bulletin board, which I would
estimate holds all the postal notices
issued since 1930. Notices of farm
sales, and church suppers long since
eaten, and police advertisements
abounu. Here pasted over old bills
are vivid displays promoting Sav-
ings Bonds. Now the army posters
cover the chart which shows where
parcel-post packages may be sent.
This does not matter, though, be-
cause many of the countries men-
tioned no longer exist, and some of
those that do ceased handling such
mail two years ago.
The wall across from the boxes
was originally white, but the shoes
of the public, waiting for the mail to
be distributed, have marred it half
way up, and the flies have taken
care of the rest. .
Like the streets of this town,
which have no names, and the
houses, which have no numbers, the
mail boxes have for some time been
without any identification to tell one
from another. When you have so
few boxes to serve, there is little
need for the metropolitan touch of
box numbers. 2
Twice a day the postmaster puts
on his coat and takes his mail truck
to the nearby railroad station. His
truck is an old two-wheeled, wood-
en push cart. It creaks down at
9:10 to get the morning mail, and
down again at 5:00 to put the out-
going mail on the train.
As the cart is drawn up to the
post office in the morning, people
commence to drift over, for it does
not take very long to sort the mail.
The girls in the small crowd are
apprehensive when they hear a
laugh from either the postmaster
or his wife. They are sure that
those two distributors are reading a
card that was meant to be private.
We lean against the scarred wall,
each intently watching his small
! window, darting forward when a
diagonal shadow flicks into it. Or
we turn disappointedly away when
at last a voice comes over the par-
tition, “Mail’s aw-lout.”
and I advise all of you who want to
go places and do things to read
this marvelous adventure written by
Allan Villiers. It is filled with re-
ality and romance and when you
have come to the last paragraph you
will be very reluctant to leave the
Conrad and its skipper and all the
people who made up its crew. You
will particularly hate leaving the
fifteen-year-old “Stormalong,” who
had to hide below decks for several
days because a native king wanted
him for a son-in-law!
=~
FREEDOM
The columnists and. com-
tributors on this page are
allowed great latitude in
expressing their own opin-
ions, even when their
opinions are at variance
with those of The Post
[APRs
pL
Ll
Work throug
Work while the dew is sparkling,
Work ‘mid springing flowers;
Work, for the night is coming,
When man’s work is done.
Work, for the sig is coming, ©
the morning hours;
Work while the day grows brighter,
Under the glowing sun; am
“UORK FOR GHE RIGHG IS COMING”
~ ~ o ANNA L. COGHILL(+» ~ »
SALI
- pate
GREAT HYMNS
fm
the small stage of Jig’s beloved
Provincetown Playhouse.
Susan Glaspell, then, has not only
realized, but has put into words a
profound idea of spiritualistic beau-
ty. Rarely has such a work been :
so pleasurably delivered. ‘The Jles
Road to the Temple” is, indeed,
Susan Glaspell’s magnificent tribute
to the memory of a man whose
democratic and intellectual excel-
lence may now, not soon be for-
# night cometh when no man can work”—a ¢
e Little
The author of this hymn was born in Canada where summers are
short ‘and call forth every bit of energy to get the crops harvested before
the early frosts. The theme is taken. from the words of Jesus, “
enge to use fo
utmost ol! the time that we have.
Stories
(i
Pe PE seen SE
nL FATE Bf eB
FUNERAL DIRECTOR
DALLAS 400 » TES)
gotten.
*