PAGE TWO
THE POST, FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 27, 1948
“The Totem Pole” =
Harrisburg, February 26—To all intents and purposes the purported | @8—
rift between Pennsylvania's Republican Senator Ed Martin and Penn-
Republican Governor Jim Duff has now been cleared up.
“But you mark my words, son,”
sylvania’s
Pettibone,
“it all isn’t as smooth as it seems.”
piped up the irascible Grampaw
The difference of views between® -
the two prominent gents in Key-
stone State affairs was reported
some time ago but almost immedi-
ately denied. Lately, both Duff and
Martin have. expressed opposite
views in regards to support of the
Marshall Plan for aiding Europe.
“Of course every one is entitled
to his own opinions,” admitted
Grampaw Pettibone, “but party
members usually stick together on
such important matters as the
Marshall Plan.”
He thumped the snow off his left
boot before entering the Rotunda
of the Main Capitol Building, and as
he stood on one foot like a chicken
in cold weather, remarked:
“Son, there’s more things a-brew-
ing than most people realize. I've
been keeping my ear pretty close
to the ground—although it’s been
frozen—and the thumpings I hear
aren't exactly conducive to unity
and harmony.
“There’s going to be a powder keg
blow-off in the not-too-distant
future, son, just you wait and see.
They say things are patched up
between Martin and Duff and others
say there was never anthing amiss
in the first place.”
He headed up the marble steps
and as he reached the top, puffing
like a whale that has been speared,
he rested a gnarled hand on the
shining white railing, turned around
and puffed between gasps:
“I've been chatting with a few
of the political wheels lately, and
it seems as though the Republican
Party is just going through the up-
heaval stage. You remember my
remarking some time ago about the
need for new blood in the organiza-
tion ? Well, that’s coming to the top
of the jug now.
“Leadership questions are in hot
dispute. Of course Jim Duff is the
nominal head of the party delega-
tion to the Republican National
Convention in Philadelphia this
Summer. But the fact remains that
Ed Martin wants a big voice in the
affair too. In addition, there are
some young squirts who are de-
manding to be heard. And you
can pop your bottons, son, and rest
assured there's going to be some
amusing and highly interesting de-
velopments before long.”
After that long-winded session,
he grabbed anew for the railing and
panted as the redness receded from
his exertion-filled face. He pulled
his favorite red handkerchief from
a pocket, mopped his brow, and
with coat-tails a-flowing proceeded
to the Capitol Newsroom. There,
between puffs on his wheezing pipe,
he chatted about matters in general
with the crack reporters of the
various news services and news-
papers, such as Martin Brackwill,
of the Associated Press; Gerson H.
(Lefty) Lush, of the Philadelphia
Inquirer; L. R. Lindgren, of the
Pittsburgh Press, and Charlie Miller,
of the Harrisburg News.
After making sure that his feet
were well warmed, he picked up
his cane and hat, buttoned his coat,
and with a farewell wave of his
hand, shuffled out of the room,
muttering to himself as he left:
‘“Humpff—some people are cer-
tainly going to be surprised pretty
soon. I'll bet my last pack of to-
bacco there'll be a big fight before
the convention gets under way this
Summer. Peace and harmony!
Pooh-pooh!”’ |
Kunkle W.S.C.S. Meets |
i
At Rev. Hilbert's Home |
Rev. and Mrs. James Hilbert were i
hosts to members of the Kunkle |
. W.S.C.S. at their home at Alderson
last Wednesday afternoon. Present
were: Mrs. D. P. Honeywell, Mrs.
A. C. Devens, Mrs. Stella Isaacs,
Mrs. Agnes Elston, Mrs. Naomi Ash-
burner, Mrs. Eunice: Hess, Mrs.
Stella Birnstock, Mrs. Marie Rydd,
Mrs. Anna Landon, Mrs. Emma Mil-
ler, Mrs. Carrie Kunkle, Mrs. Ella
Brace, Mrs. Julie Kunkle, Mrs. Nel-
lie Rydd, and the host and hostess.
The first State Farm Show was
held in 1927.—PNS.
Your Health
“There’s a right to the ribs, folks
— now a left to the mid-section
— and there’s a hard smash to the
jaw!”
There are also other ways of suf-
fering a broken jaw.
Automobile accidents cause frac-
tures of the mandible, the horse-
shoe-shaped bone forming the lower:
jaw.
An individual with a broken jaw
presents a characteristic appearance
with the head carefully held and
the mouth open.
The flow of saliva increases and
because swallowing is painful, there
is noticeable drooling.
There is also some swelling and
difficulty in opening and closing the
jaws.
Such fractures are almost always
compounded into the mouth and
infected.
An x-ray examination is routine
to indicate the extent of the in-
jury. -
The chief objective of surgical
treatment is to restore the teeth
to their normal position.
In early days, broken jaws were
tied up in splints.
An American oral surgeon, Dr.
| Thomas Gilmer, in 1887 devised a
manner of splinting that became
standard practice — he fastened
the lower teeth to the upper ones
with the aid of a silver wire.
This is the simplest and most
satisfactory way of handling a
broken jaw.
The patient is fed liquids through
a feeding tube during the healing
of the jaw.
The victim’s conversation during
treatment is limited to “MZRUMH”.
DO YOU KNOW ?
Infantile paralysis struck 2,181
Pennsylvanians, mostly children, in
1916, while in 1946 there were 341
affected. Last year, up to October
1, there were 317 cases reported
in the state.
Lenten Speaker
Rev. Coray B. Klinetob, pastor
of Luzerne Methodist Church, will
be the speaker at the Mid-Week
Lenten Service sponsored by WSCS
at Dallas Methodist Church Wednes-
day evening at 7:30.
THE DALLAS POST
“More than a mewspaper,
a community institution”
ESTABLISHED 1889
Member Pennsylvania Newspaper
Publishers’ ‘Association
A mon-partisan liberal
progressive newspaper pub-
lished every Friday morning
at the Dallas Post plant
Lehman Avenue, Dallas
Pennsylvania.
Entered as second-class matter at
the post office at Dallas, Pa., under
the Act of March 3, 1879. Subscrip-
tion rates: $2.50 a year; $1.50 six
months... No subscriptions accepted
for less than six months. Out-of
state subscriptions: $3.00 a year;
$2.00 six months or less. Back
issues, more than one week old, 10¢c
Single copies, at a rate of 6c each,
can be obtained every Friday morn-
Ing at the following newsstands:
Dallas— Tally-Ho Grille, LeGrand’s
Restaurant ; Shavertown, Evans’
Drug Store; Trucksville—Leonard's
Store; ldetown—Caves Store; Hunts-
ville—Barnes Store; Alderson—
Deater’s Store
When requesting a change of ad-
dress subscribers are asked to give
their old as well as new address.
Allow two weeks for changes of ad-
dress or new subscription to be placed
on mailing list.
We will not be responsible for the
return of unsolicited manuscripts,
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less ~ self-addressed, stamped envelope
is enclosed, and in no case will we
be responsible for this
more than 30 days.
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Unless paid for at advertising: rates,
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nouncements of plays, parties, rummage
sales or any affairs for raising money
will appear in a specific issue. In no
case will such items be taken on
Thursdays.
Preference will in all instances be
given to editorial matter which has not
previously appeared in publication.
Editor and Publisher
HOWARD W. RISLEY
Associate Editor !
MYRA ZEISER RISLEY
Contributing Editor
MRS. T. M. B. HICKS
Approximately 2,300 miles of for-
est roads and 300 miles of trails
have been constructed or are being
maintained in Pennsylvania State
Forests.—PNS.
Yes . . . Stegmaier's is good beer. It has that rich, mellow, thirst
satisfying taste that makes it one of America's finest
beers. Order a case of Stegmaier's Gold Medal Beer now for
enjoyment at home. And when you want a glass or two
of really good beer, stop for a Stegmaier's at your favorite tap room.
STEGMAIER BREWING COMPANY.
Distributed In This Area By
Harvey's Lake Bottling Works
PHONE 3002
ALDERSON,
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MAIER BREWING
WILKES-BARRE, PA
WILKES-BARRE,
ESE
SAFETY VALVE
Purely Personal
Dear Mr. Risley:
Lately I got out my battered
scrapbook and made a nostalgic
tour among the clippings of my
“stuff” from the Dallas Post. All
sorts of reactions hit me since it
was the first occasion in a long
while that I had read some of them
and the view therefore of a more
unprejudiced perspective. Some of
those clippings made me groan with
pain and I wanted to hold the
loathesome things at a distance
with a forked stick but others con-
tained bright little passages that
make me believe that I'm going to
be a writer after all.
I consider myself pretty lucky.
There’s a great deal of satisfaction
and encouragement in seeing one’s
own writings in print. It’s some-
thing to warm oneself by when
the Greatest Short Stories of All
Time are making those round trips
and the author is collecting more
rejection slips than a dog does bur-
docks. And so few writers have
been in print from the callow age
of seventeen onward — through
that time when it is probably
easier to give up than keep trying.
These were the things I thought
and one more thing I asked. Why,
I asked, haven't you ever. made a
single attempt to thank Mr. Risley
for all he’s done for you?
January 30 seems a nice time
to do it for it was just six years
ago today when the first of this
scribe’s guff appeared in the Post's
pages. Redolent of the novice it
was too. It was the last week of
January, 1942, when I first wander-
ed through the pine bound portals
of the Post bearing a grubby manu-
script that certainly contained
nothing so earth-shaking as I
thought it did. I came at the bid-
ding of Mr. R. E. Kuhnert who
said that the Dallas Post was look-
ing for someone to write school
news. Even in those days it was
noised about that I was going to
be a writer.
Writing for the Dallas Post, first
as a columnist and then as a “sort
of a” reporter has been of im-
measurable aid to me. To be. brutal-
ly candid, I think that when I
worked as your cub reporter in
the winter of 1945-46, I was the
poorest apprentice you ever had.
We found out together that I was
no newspaperman but I did learn
to write well. I'm sorry that you
helped me more than I helped you.
I have often wondered why you
didn’t just up and fire me.
Some of the copy I sent in, frank-
ly, was solely for the purpose of
beating my drum. I used to have
a sneaking feeling that I would
never see another crumb of my
copy in print, and I could see you
all too clearly gripping my death-
less manuscript while you waved
one hand above your head, and,
purple-faced, roared some incoher-
ent threat . . . or only roared. But,
doggone it, it was always printed,
and some of it looked pretty good
in print.
One of ‘my treasures is a postal
card you sent me after I wrote
about an auction a way down the
road. I haven't seen it in a long
time but I can tell you the first
line reads. “Your column this week
begins to ring the bell.”
Well, I hope that by the time
(Continued on Page Seven)
A Barnyard Notes
For the past four weeks—catch as catch can—we’ve been reading
“House Divided”, the story by Ben Ames Williams of two branches
of Lincoln’s family during the Civil War.
Our interest in that conflict started more than forty years ago
when our dad held us on his lap and read to us a romantic story of
Jeb Stuart’s cavalry. From that seed so early planted has grown a
continued interest in the War Between the States.
One of the early tragedies in our career as a historian came—as
we remember— in 1913. That was the year we were ordered sternly
to return a $100 set of the Photographic History of the Civil War
by Brady to the publisher after he had obligingly shipped it to the
address we had scrawled on a coupon clipped from the Review of
Reviews. We weren't worried about the installment payments, but
Pop was. Lincoln after the second Battle of Bull Run couldn’t have
been more upset than we were. Neither could Pop.
It was about that time, we recall, that some one gave us a quarter
to spend as we willed. Promptly we went to the Five and Dime and
chose from a wide selection of plaster statues, a replica of a bust
of Lincoln. There were scores of famous men to select from, Wash-
ington, Jefferson, Hamilton, Shakespeare. “You pays your money and
you takes your choice.” We chose Lincoln.
As soon as we got home and unscrambled the wrappings, Mom
asked: “Why in the world did you pick such a homely man as Lin-
coln.” We were prompt in reply, “He was the best looking man
there.” What, did the hand of the potter shake! Nobody ever
troubled to investigate. But a lifetime has fefled to shake our con-
viction. Lincoln was a handsome man.
And that brings to mind a story told of him. Once when a friend
asked him if he would appoint a certain man to public office, Lincoln
replied, “No. I don’t like his face.” His friend remonstrated, “A
man isn’t to blame for his face.” Lincoln, unmoved replied, “Every
man—over forty—is responsible for his face.”
Throughout our boyhood the Civil War and its leaders were as
real to us as Buck Rogers, The Lone Star Ranger and Superman are
today to our young friends Bobby Moyer, Joe Peterson, Dougy Cooper
and Bobby Coolbaugh.
And our interest in them was abetted by two old cronies, Johnny
Neuer and Daddy Bogart who talked intimately of the bloody
battles at Cold Harbor and Gettysburg, fighting over and over again
The Union charge at Bloody Angle every Sunday from rocking chairs
on Daddy’s front porch shaded by his young cherry trees.
It was another tragedy of the Civil War when circumstance pre-
vented our accompanying them at their invitation to take part in
the Fiftieth Anniversary of Gettysburg. But two years ago—more
than thirty years later—we made it, and read there dimly on the
Pennsylvania monument near the high water mark where Pickett’s
gallant charge had reached its climax, the name of Sgt. John Neuer.
What cronies for a boy!. “The grasses on their graves have for
twenty years been blowing.”
In later years, Fred Kiefer, who has one of the best Civil War
libraries in the State, and Ray Shiber have continued to whet our
interest in the “last romantic war.” Ray has a phenominal memory
for battles and their leaders—troop movements and campaigns, and
has, at one time or another, covered most of the ground.
Often now when he’s mailing the Post late Thursday nights we
interrupt Ray in his work to discuss some phase of a battle that
we've come across in our reading. We never stump him. He's ready
to discuss Longstreet and Reynolds, Early and A. P. Hill at the drop
of a hat; and out of that remarkable memory of his unfolds an entire
campaign with incidents and anecdotes as well as maps of the field
of operations. Makes no difference how recently we've been reading
it or what event we choose without warning to discuss; Ray knows
the answers. We've always found them prompt and right. He knows
the Civil War forwards and backwards and has forgotten. more than
we shall ever know.
Last winter he lugged Sver books and Ep cha? of Ander-
sonville Prison, frayed and tattered; and now we've both turned our
attention to Back Mountain Library and the modern Civil War books
on the shelves there.
More recently, at the suggestion of Fred Reinfurt, we've become
better acquainted with Dan’ Sickles, hero of Gettysburg’and Yankee
King of Spain—a biography more entertaining than fiction and more
erotic than “Forever Amber.”
But Grant in the wilderness never pounded away any harder than
we will before we have finished “House Divided.” It is an entertain-
ing book but it will have our house ripped apart before we can wade
through its 1,514 pages. It is a tale to hold old men from their
chimney corners and little children from their play. But an old man
would be dead and a younger one would be using blue blades before
he'd finished it.
A feminine foot has been stamped firmly down against our starting
another long Civil War story. Every time we settle back in the arm
chair “to read another chapter” we're reminded that the hot water
spigot still leaks; the dog hasn’t been for his walk in a week; the
garbage is never emptied and—"it’s chilly in here, are you sure the
fire isn’t out?” :
Our house is really divided. This summer when we start again for
Virginia we hope Fred and Ray will go along. We want to see where:
Jackson fell at Chancellorsville. ;
Then right in the middle of the seventeenth chapter a determined
voice asks “Where's that literature on Atlantic City hotels ?”
House divided? Not ours. We'll stay in the Union for another
summer.
Whether Your Home
Is Large or Small
It
should be kept in condi-
. .= it is your home.
tion.
We make F.H.A. Loans
to repair and modernize
homes . . . and for insul-
The cost is $5.00
a year for each $100 bor-
ation.
rowed.
Your application will
be given immediate at-
tention.
THE KINGSTON
NATIONAL BANK
Kingston Corners
Mrs. Florence Ross Is
Hostess At Orange
Mrs. Florence Ross of Orange
entertained members of the Orange
W.S.C.S. at her home Thursday eve-
ning. Present were: Mrs. Laird
Stanton, Mrs. Nora Dymond, Mrs.
Mabel Gay, Mrs. Eudora Baird, Mrs.
Marietta Gay, Mrs. Abbie King, Mrs.
Mary Sickler, Mrs. Freda Perry,
Mrs. Lydia Jones, Mrs. Myrtle Ber-
lew, Mrs. Mabel Bell, Mrs. Gertie
Perry, Mrs. Madge Snyder, Mrs.
Florence Ross, Mrs. Myrtle Kunkle,
Mrs. Edith Rozelle, Mrs. Ella Ma-
thers, Mrs. Mary Emmanuel, Mrs.
Guida Perry and the hostess.
Miss Bertha Fannon
To Wed Sterling Meade
Mr. and Mrs. Daniel Fannon, 285
Popular Street, Wilkes-Barre, have
anounced the engagement of their
daughter, Bertha, to Sterling Meade
son of Delbert Meade, Sweet Valley.
Miss Fannon is a senior at Myers
High School.
Mr. Meade served with the Army
for 30 months seeing service in the
ETO. He is a graduate of Lehman
High School and is now attending
Wilkes College, residing at 138
Hazle Street, Wilkes-Barre.
No date has been set for the
wedding.
REG. U.S. PAT. OFF.
A SOUND
CHICK RAISING PROGRAM
IS YOUR INSURANCE FOR A
PROFITABLE YEAR.
STRART RIGHT WITH CHICATINE
TIOGA FEED SERVICE
(Ricatine. |
KUNKLE, PA.
Phone $87-R-49
DEVENS MILLING COMPANY
BA. C. Devens, Owner
DALLAS, PA.
Phone 200
5
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