Indianapolis Times, Volume 47, Number 283, Indianapolis, Marion County, 4 February 1936 — Page 11

It Seems to Me HEYM BROUN WASHINGTON. Feb. 4—Almost any clay now A1 Smith ought to be ordering his night shirt. The walking tour which he proposed down here has certainly enlisted some curious hooded companions. Nor can Smith say that he has no responsibility for the goings on of Gene in Macon. Talmadge and his associates most palpably rallied around Al's battle cry of "Washington or Moscow.” It is true that they went a little further A1 merely saw Communism in any effort to regulate

farming or labor on a nationa’ basis. Thomas Dixon, author of “The Clansman,” told the grass rooters that Federal efforts to interfere with lynching constituted red revolution. The “Christain” duty of white voters to defend strict construction of the Constitution was emphasized by several speakers, and that was logical enough, since "Doc” Smith, the rabble-rousing preacher from Huey’s state, announced only a few months ago that the “Share Our Wealth” clubs which he controls purposed to drive the Jews from Louisiana.

Heywood Broun

Much was said in Macon with which A1 Smith would not agree, but I do not see how he can dodge the accusation that his Liberty League speech was the torch which set alight the leaping bonfires of the witch burners. n st u A l in Strange Company WHEN a man begins to play indiscriminately with labels, as Al did with “Communism” and “Socialism,” he ought to be prepared to take the responsibility for the wide consequences of his red baiting. Al cast the stone into th e lake and the ripples run on and on in an ever-widening circle. There walks the Happy Warrior, and at his side is Gene Talmadge. who not long ago complained that the New Deal was making it difficult to find laborers who would work for 75 cents a, day. And shoulder ♦ o shoulder with Al is Thomas Dixon, the father of the Vigilant® movement in America. And why does Al follow in the train of "His Chain Gang Excellency”? Can it be that Al is himself in shackles and that he can be led whenever it seems expedient to stage a Raskob holiday? He walks with Hearst, whom he once assailed. He" walks with men who play upon religious and racial hatred. He walks with John W. Davis, who could not get up a faster pace than that even when he was supposedly "ruriuing” for President. ' it n Indians Have* Some Rights ''l''HE somewhat insane length to which present * politics move legislators was illustrated in the An appropriation for the Indian Bureau was almost wiped out because some of the men in Congress contended that the money was being used to teach the Indians New Deal philosophy. Maury Maverick and a few others saved the funds for wo r k among the Indians by pointing out that this problem existed even before the coming of the Roosevelt Administration and that there was a distinct upon the Federal government under ancient treaties. Down in Macon, Thomas Dixon proclaimed his right as a free man to wear rags and starve to death if such a fate happened to please him. According to the newspaper reports, Mr. Dixon was not in rags nor obviously hungry when he made his oration. The spokesmen of the Indians indicated that these native Americans did not care to urge such natural rights but preferred to eat. Perhaps are among (he Communists against whom the Talmadge-Smith ticket, has made an alliance. In fact, it’s rumored that these Indians are red-, (Copyright. 19361

Complex Nature of TVA Delays Verdict RY RAYMOND CLAPPER WASHINGTON, Feb. 4.—Delay in the Supreme Court s TVA decision is believed to be due to the complicated nature of the case. Members of the court have been borrowing voluminous data on electric power from several government agencies. At least two justices are supposed to be writing opinions. You can draw your own conclusions. Not so long ago Maryland tried to force down telephone rates. It cited market quotations to show that in view of the drop in prices, the company

ought to cut its rates to subscribers. The Supreme Court said you couldn’t use price indices to cut rates. Meantime. North Dakota was ignoring declining price quotations in making tax assessments. The Great Northern Railroad said that wasn’t fair. Values had gone dqwn and taxes should too. The Supreme Court said North Dakota was wrong. It should have taken price declines into consideration and cut the tax valuation. You say the Supreme Court

couldn't be right both times? Nonsense. The court is very clear. When you want to cut your telephone rates, you mustn't consider reduced price levels. And when you want to collect taxes from a railroad, you mustn’t ignore reduced price levels. tt n a JUSTICE PIERCE BUTLER’S opinion In the Great Northern case has cleared up another important matter. He declared officially that there had been a depression. He didn’t say it was unconstitutional. Therefore the depression stands. That’s one thing the court isn’t going to take away from us. r n n One of the dangerous things about the present inflation drive is that an attempt will be made to disguise the vicious nßture of the money padding that is being sought. Even Senator Elmer Thomas has solemnly denied he is for inflation in the common sense and said he is against boloney dollars. He has sliced it very thin indeed, but as Ai Smith once said, no matter how thin you slice it, it is still baloney. They've all got their sheepskins on and it is going to take good eyes to see under them when the inflation drive heats up. * * * Under cover of excitement over Inflation, the Supreme Court and other questions, an effort is being made to scuttle neutrality legislation. The State Department, which couldn’t get the broad discretionary power it wanted, is working from one side. Extreme isolationists, fearful of a trick which will involve us in Europe, are working from the other. Between these two hostile forces, the pending legislation which would clamp down on war-time tra<Ce and apply restrictions equally to all belligerents is in serious danger of being sunk without trace. M M M POLITICAL parade: The Townsend Old-Age Pension crowa is moving into the Maryland free state which hitherto has been free from this embarrassing political issue. . . . Two bankers are understood to have refused to be Undersecretary of the Treasury. . . . Former Governor Ritchie and Howard Bruce, Maryland Democratic national committeeman, would like to see Maryland send an AntiRoosevelt delegation to the national convention. . . . The Administration's latest bungle in Maryland came when the White House sent a former Federal official, one appointed without Ritchie’s backing, to the former Governor as a peace emissary. It made the situation worse. m m * One Senator refers to the statically unemployed, that is those with little hope of finding work, as apt to become our ‘ dynamically unemployed.” Rerorta from relief administrators indicate the unemployed. even tLose on WPA, are becoming more restless. Pressure to open up WPA rolls to those not on relief is becoming so strong that Senators and Repre ;entatives are bombarding Harry Hopkins with appeals to let down the bars. He hasn’t got the morey to do it.

Liking Amrrioa jo well an his first visit that he became a Canadian rancher, youiy King Kdward VIII of England five years later came back on pleasure bent, hoping to escape briefly the life of a royal goldfish. The interesting, amusing and —to him at least—exasperating incidents of his month’s stay near New York are set forth in this seven'll installment of the story of his life. (Copyright. 1936. by Frazier Hunt. Published by arrangement with Harper St Bros.) TT was in 1924 when the Prince paid his second and last visit to New York. He was 30 years old and squarely in the middle of his gay bachelor years. But he knew his way about. These were gay and mad days. The war was over and any bachelor and young exofficer had certain rights of his own. If he belonged to a royal family he must run the gantlet of gossip, exaggeration and exasperating untruths. By and large the Prince

did not mind this. He knew that it was one of the many penalties of being born the heir to a throne. In 1919, at the end of his first visit to Canada and.at the very beginning of his world travels, he had won the heart of New York and all America. He had nromised his friends here that he would come again. This 1924 visit of the Prince was considerably different from his first. Then he had crossed down from Canada at Rouses’ Point, New York, and on the evening of Nov. 10, 1919, for the first time in his life put his foot on American soil. < It was raining and the band of the 63d United States Infantry played “God Save the King,” and a company of soldiers snapped to attention. The eyes of the Prince swept over the little crowd. At one end of the platform stood 12 of the prettiest girls of Rouses’ Point holding aloft a canopy of American and British flags interwoven. ana 'T'HE second that the official welcome was ended and he had inspected the gua-.d oi honor, the Prince walked toward the girls. “Wish we could dance with you, Prince,” one of the prettiest of them boldly ventured. "Not in this rain,” the Prince answered with a chuckle. “But I’d like to dance with each one of you.” “So would we like to have you,” they said in a chorus, shoving out their hands. Laughing and joking with them he shook their hands. “Have a. good time in America, Prince,” they shouted at him. Before the next 10 days were over he was to feel something of the warm ana sincere—if a bit rough-and-ready—welcome of an American crowd. He was to be shouted at and cheered and pounced on with friendy but determined curiosity. “I've been ‘Prince’d’ so much that I’m afraid I'll start barking,” he remarked with a chuckle before he left New York. That night of Nov. 10, 1919, his train shot through the rain and blackness toward Washington. n n tt WHEN he called at the White House, President Woodrow Wilson, lying stricken and helpless in a great mahogany bed upstairs, was too ill to see him. The following day the Prince called again. After tea with Mrs. Wilson and Miss Margaret Wilson and Mrs. Sayre, the Prince alone was taken up to the President’s room. The war President was propped up in bed, a pathetic and touching figure. “I am sorry that I could not meet you downstairs,” the old warrior said slowly and hesitatingly. The words fairly dragged from his Ups. “I am sorry, too, Mr. President.” the younger man spoke with deep feeling. “It is good to see you again.” Mrs. Wilson helped out with the trying conversation. There were more words and then the President said with effort: “Your grandfather slept in this bed in this same rocm in 1860 when— James Buchanan was President. President Lincoln used it, too.” Again the Prince took the white hand and pressed it. Silently he followed Mrs. Wilson from the room of tragedy. a a * BUT there was nothing painful or distressing about this second White House visit five years later. After the quiet luncheon with the Coolidges the little party repaired to the Blue Room and the members of the Cabinet and their wives drifted in to meet the Prince. Promptly at 3 he said good-by and at 3:25 his special was speeding toward New York. That night he was back at his Long Island retreat, ready to have the time of his life. This second visit was unofficial and he traveled as the Baron Renfrew—playboy extraordinary and gay ambassador without portfolio. He had been Usted an ordinary passenger on the Beren-

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Full l>a*d Wire Service of the United Pres* Association.

The

BACHELOR PRINCE Who Became KING

Called ‘ Prince ’ So Mach in America, He Felt Like Barking

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The Indianapolis Times

garia, and from the start he was determined to be himself. One evening the whole world read that he had danced with Miss Leonore Cahill, a charming girl from St. Louis. At 2:30 in the afternoon three days later, the Berengaria dropped anchor at quarantine in New York Harbor, and a minute afterward the great game that the Prince was to play with shrewd and determined New York newspaper men and press photographers began. tt a tt OUICKLY transfering to the speed boat Black Watch, he was rushed up East River to the North Shore of Long Island and then to the very lovely country home of James A. Burden at Syosset. Its walls guarded by state troopers, police and even private detectives, the estate was to be his headquarters for the next four weeks. Such sleep as he was to capture from strenuous days and amusing nights he was to have here. It soon became a game of wits, and the Prince often won. The public knew that he used both a Rolls Royce and a Lincoln, and his trick was to confuse his pursuers by rapidly shifting from one car to another. For instance, his Rolls without the Prince would swing up to Cochran Field at Meadowbrook, and swiftly turn into the roped inclosure. The crowd would break toward it.

TTTASHINC-TON, Feb.. 4. * ’ Simultaneously with the conviction of three officials responsible for the Morro Castle disaster, the Bureau of Navigation and Steamboat Inspection is trying to clean house. However, Joseph B. Weaver, new and forthright director of. this long-moribund agency, is having difficulty with J. M. Johnson, Assistant Secretary of Commerce and his immediate superior. Weaver, a plain-talking maritime expert, was appointed following the Morro Castle disaster in order to snap the bureau out of its decade-old doldrums. Ha was assured of a free hand. For a while he got it. Personnel and efficiency of the bureau were greatly improved. But recently Johnson has been quietly blocking Weaver’s reforms. One of his undercover maneuvers was to sidetrack Weaver’s request for an increased appropriation so a larger and abler staff of inspectors could be employed. Weaver and his assistants are not taking this back-stage sabotaging quietly. They are fighting back. His board of inspectors held a meeting and adopted a resolution strongly urging the need of additional funds to remedy “deplorable conditions” —a long list of which they included. The resolution was adopted unanimously and delivered in person to Johnson. But Johnson suppressed the embarrassing document. Just the same, that did not prevent it from getting into the hands of the press. Commerce Department insiders say that ship operators are deeply and secretly resentful of Weaver’s bare-knuckle crusading. Note—Johnson is a South Carolina politician, knows nothing about shipping, was once state highway commissioner, is a friend of Secretary Roper. a a a Mrs. Roosevelt ■jV/TRS. ROOSEVELT is tightening up on answers to controversial questions put to her by correspondents at her press conferences Last week she was briefest in months. Question —Have you read accounts of the Talmadge convention held in Georgia? Mrs. Roosevelt—Yes. Question —Anything to say? Any comments? Mrs. Roosevelt—No. Question —Have you read . accounts of Al Smiths address? Mrs. Roosevelt—Yes. Question —Have you any comments? Mrs. Roosevelt—No.

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In his earlier days. Edward was a keen polo player. Here he is in an action picture taken during a match.

Then a little later the Prince in his Lincoln would drive quietly to the far end of the playing field, well above the clubhouse, and he would slip into a camp chair among men who were far more interested in polo than in the royal visitor. A half hour later he would step into a Rolls and speed away toward Grace Field. But on one particular day two Long Island girls, sweeping the crowd on all four sides of the field with their glasses, spotted him and, with the good taste and decorum of polar bears, hurriedly strode across one corner and stood staring at the unfortunate Prince. tt tt tt / T'HE word that he had been *■- run down spread quickly. Scores of pretty young things crowded about him. Beaten and more than a little out of patience,

Washington Merry-Go-Round BY DREW PEARSON and ROBERT S. ALLEN

Question—Have you read Mr. Landon’s speech? Mrs. Roosevelt—Yes. Question—Any comments? Mrs. Roosevelt —No. a a a Vandenberg-Landon W r HEN Presidential Aspirant Landon blasted the New Deal the other evening, his most interested Washington listener was Presidential Aspirant Vandenberg. The Michigan Senator sat back in an armchair in the Wardman Park Hotel and listened quietly—until Landon struck these words: “We are going to be many years unscrambling the eggs cooked up by the kitchen cabinet of this Administration.” Vandenberg sat upright. Then he sat back again. The ink was scarcely dry on a speech Vandenberg himself had just finished writing—one to be delivered in New York City Feb. 12. In that speech he had planned to say something much like the Landon line. It was this: “The gentlemen in power challenge us to offer remedies of our own to replace the remedies they have adopted. They challenge us with the truculence of a cook who knows that after she has made the omelet it’s too late to unscramble the eggs.” Vandenburg has a fondness for neatly turned phrases. And he has turned such phrases ever since his editorial days with the Grand Rapids Herald. So effective were they that Warren G. Harding drafted Vapdenberg as ghost writer for his front-porch campaign. He liked Vandenberg’s speeches so much that he wrote a letter of thanks which the 1936 aspirant still keeps framed on his office wall. Note—The Michigan Senator is now his own ghost writer. a a a McCaiTs Successor * LTHOUGH the 15-year term l\. of Controller General J. R. McCarl does not expire until July 1, a hot behind-the-scenes scramble to fill his shoes already has started. Drawing SIO,OOO a year, the post is one of the choicest plums on the patronage counter. Active in the undercover maneuvering are several members of McGarl’s staff—O. R. McGuire, extremely able counsel; Charles M. Galloway, another counsel, and F. L. Yates, attorney-conferee. Another eager hopeful is Corrington Gill, ace statistician of Harry Hopkins’ WPA. The Wisconsinite has clashed with McCarl on a number of occasions and would take great secret pleasure in succeeding him. Insiders say that hard-work-ing Acting Budget Director Daniel Bell could have the job if he

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 4, 1936

BY FRAZIER HUNT

the Prince strode off. The crowd followed. He leaped the fence a* J at a trot hurried + o his car and was away. Only after dinner, where possibly the rare Will Rogers or the humorous Eddie Cantor had acted as the king’s jesters, could he escape and be himself. With Lord and Lady Louis Mountbatten or with some of the gay and sparkling younger set of Long Island he would slip away for a night of dancing and fun. At dawn the weary newshawks would catch a swift view of his car swinging through the gates of his temporary home. Other days the excited papers had to content their readers with such announcements as “at two in the morning the Prince left the Mackey home. Another man and two women were in the party but they were not identified.” The day before this particular defeat of the press he had rung up another victory on the news sleuths. From 5 o’clock Thursday afternoon he had vanishec from their view until after 1 that following morning when he drove back to the Burden home. It was one of his few real nights off. He was doing New York with two or three rare sworn to secrecy. He was having a little of the run that young bachelors are entitled to. tt tt tt ON Saturday, Sept. 13, he sat in a flag-decked box, along with 40,000 other polo enthusiasts, and watched the United States team hang up a 16-to-5 victory over the British team. The second and concluding game was played the following Tuesday, and the Prince was to see the American team outride and outplay the visitors 14 to 5. The Prince was downcast but willingly took a modest part in the little '’eremony following the end of play. Gen. Bullard handed the prized ciip to Devereux Milburn, the American captain. Seven pints of vintage champagne had been poured into the silver mug. and Louis Stoddard, president of the United States Polo Association, taking it from the hands of

wanted it, but that he wants to stay where he is. Secretary Morgenthau is backing the appointment of William H. Mcßeynolds, his assistant. A one-time cowboy who studied law in his spare time, Mcßeynolds entered the government service 30 years ago as a postal inspector. His quiet ability is highly regarded. But he has one serious handicap. A forthright and independent executive, he has stepped on the toes of a number of potent politicians and incurred their secret enmity. (Copyright, 1936, by United Feature Syndicate. Inc.) KING DAVID MEMBERS TO ATTEND MEETING Beech Grove Lodge Makes Plans for District Gathering. At a meeting of King David Lodge 897, Independent Order of Odd Fellows, at 7:30 tomorrow at 24% S. sth-st, Beech Grove, plans are to be made for members to attend the district meeting at Samaritan lodge, Blain-av and Howard-st, on Feb. 13. Officers of the lodge are: N. G. Bartholomew, noble grand; Berthel Hamilton, vice grand; Carl Ferris, chaplain; William Carey, recording secretary; Ed Carey, financial secretary; George Williams, treasurer; Clarence Allenv warden and host; William Kime, conductor; H. Lee Clark, right supporter noble grand; John McGregor, left supporter noble grand; Murl Brott, right supporter vice grand, and Walter E. Horn, left supporter vice grand. OPENS BONUS OFFICE Applications Are Being Handled for East Side Soldiers, East Indianapolis post No. 13, American Legion, has opened an office to handle bonus applications of World War veterans at the realty firm of Lawrence J. Sexton, 4610 E. Michigan-st. Mr. Sexton, a veteran, will keep his office open until 10 p. m. daily. BOONE NIMRODS DINE Conservation League Membership Drive Nets 84 Names. Times Special LEBANON, Ind., Feb. 4.—Boone County Conservation League is to hold its first annual fish fry here tomorrow. The league, organized Dec. 4, now has a membership of 364 persons, 84 of whom have joined since the membership drive of Jan. 6.

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Edward VIII, anew portrait by Hugh Cecil, London; (c) NEA.

Devereux turned to the Prince and said: “Perhaps Your Royal Highness will first try our Meadow Brook water.” The Prince chuckled, took the cup and bowi ig toward the American team took a good healthy swig. The American players followed and then the British team, a a a IN the American Museum of Natural History, the great Carl Akeley escorted him through the African rooms and pointed out a statue he had made of the Prince as an African hunter. The Prince grinned and turned to his host: “Well, I see you have me among the gorillas.” In the visit to Wall Street a ragged newsboy climbed on the rear tire rack of the Prince’s open car. A policeman started to run him off, but the royal visitor intervened. “Let him alone,” he pleaded. “He isn’t doing any harm, and he seems to be having a good time.” Sunday morning at 10 o’clock the Prince climbed aboard his special at Syosset, N. Y. Half the sporting folk of Long Island were crowded around the station. His 67 pieces of luggage had been loaded and he had only to have his picture taken and say his good-by. It was a vastly different farewell than had been the official send-off five years before. He could never forget the brilliant picture of what happened then: Shortly aft~r noon, on that late November day of 1919, the last of his visitors had left the great battle-cruiser Renown that was to take the Prince back to England, and was now lying with steam up in the upper Hudson. a a a AT 1: 45 the giant U. S. dreadnought Delaware, standing by, began slowly to drop downstream, halting just above 96th-st for the visiting battle cruiser to move. Ahead of the Prince’s ship slipped the British light cruiser Constance. At 63d-st the Constance dropped back of the Renown and the eight escorting United States destroyers began to form lines on both flanks of the Prince’s ship. Below the Statue of Liberty the gray Delaware passed the Prince’s ship and took the lead through the Ambrose Channel. It is a century-old rule that no naval salute is ever fired after sunset, but the United States Navy was to break that rule this night. Just as the Ambrose Lightship, riding gently in the swells, was passed, the Delaware swung wide and then came to a standstill. Silently, like some giant shadow, the Renown slipped by. Then from the great host ship a 2-gun salute boomed forth. On his second New York farewell there were no booming cannon nor unforgettable moments of the beauty of giant sea craft wishing "God-speed.” Rather it was a tired and very weary young man slipping out of sight for a while. Four days later he was to arrive at his ranch in Alberta. Here he would find the rest and quiet he needed so badly. New York hospitality had been almost too much for him. TOMORROW—How he avoided being forced into a state marriage ... a reception attended by the death and injury of 400 ... an unappreciated rescue from a mob . . . encounter wifih a wallflower ... at King Neptune’s court.

By J. Carver Pusey

Second Section

Entered- * Serond-Cl** Matter at Pontpffio®, Indianapolis. Ind.

Fair VESIMK PKM T ONDON, Feb. 4.—Although our friends the English make an important point of loathing the vulgarity of the American press, there is comfort in the fact that the English papers having the greatest circulation are those which have attempted to imitate the gaudiest features of our journalism. Notwithstanding the severity of the English libel law and the restrictions governing the coverage of crime, they have managed to achieve a rich yellow complexion and would be much yellower if they dared. It has not been many years

since the English press was permitted to publish verbatim testimony of divorce trials, and did so with an enthusiasm which bespoke an eager public appetite for intimacies which, according to American standards, were much too foul for publication. The privilege of printing sheer filth finally w r as abolished by the government in the interests of moral hygiene. I find that I was mistaken when I expressed the opinion recently that the English journalists do not know how to get a

story or write one. They have done an excellent job in their coverage of the King’s death and funeral, and they do have some first-class writers, although the latter often ignore such essentials as first names and make use of the perpendicular pronoun in trivial items which were better done in the impersonal style. a tt tt Press Agents for the Crown ALL English journalists, except those employed on the negligible Communist sheet, the Worker, are press agents for the crown and the royal family and instinctively sound the ballyhoo for the institutions whenever they have occasion to mention them. This instinct produced some maudlin overwriting during the last two weeks and I have noticed two photographs in which sentimentality drips from the paper. One is a picture of the late King’s pony walking with bowed head in sorrow and the other is a portrait of one of his late majesty’s dogs. But the pony’s head is bowed because he is not wearing a checkrein and the mournful expression of the dog is characteristic of the breed, for it is one of those sad-looking bird dogs with wet, lugubrious eyes and drooping jowls. The London publishers pay better wages than Americans and the day of the cringing penny-a-liner or inkstained wretch of Flcet-st has passed. When the new King was the Prince of Wales the English reporters acted as men in his presence, and his own respect for them as men undoubtedly assisted in the emancipation of that class who in other years were known somewhat contemptuously as pressmen. The continuance of this relation now that the Prince has become King will further enhance the prestige of the English reporter. ana Annoyed by Photographers The new King does not like photographers. Once when he was Prince he called a photographer and was giving him hell for bothering him, wffien the photographer said: “Look here, sir, can I speak to you as one man to another?” “Go ahead,” said the Prince. “All right,” said the photographer. “Frankly, I’m sick of taking your picture, but I hafta do it because that’s me job. One day you were opening a bloody ’ospital and I took your picture. Then when you were coming out what do you do? Why, you stoop down and shake ’ands with a little kiddy and I ’ad to be there to photograph that or I would have been sacked. I’d rather’ve been ’ome, but you ’ave to go around shaking ’ands with a iotta little brats. Why do you shake ’ands with every little brat you see?” The Prince laughed and relented, but photographers bother him, nevertheless. It’s easy to understand, because even when his father lay dead both he and his mother, though bowed with grief and worn almost to exhaustion by formal duties, were photographed incessantly by those very papers which recently expressed most towering scorn for the sniping of the Lindbergh baby’s picture and then ran it themselves.

Gen. Johnson Says—

NEW YORK, Feb. 4.—lt is understandable that many different classes of people might be opposed to the New Deal and all its works, but it is hard to see why such automobile companies as Geneial Motors should lead the van. The High Road and Easy Street are the same thoroughfare for them just now. In 1932 they were flat. They have led the way out of the depression, and nearly every step of their advance traces directly to some part of the New Deal program. Most of it rests squarely on the great increase in farm buying power. Even its enemies neither withhold from the New Deal grudging credit for some of that nor propose anything but continuation and improvement of the New Deal farm experiment. Whatever else may be said about cheap money (meaning low interest rates), the New Deal also is largely responsible for this. That, in turn, also has made the purchase of automobiles easier. The old “finance” plans for automobile purchase sometimes figured as high as 18 to 24 per cent per annum on the unpaid balance. a a a THEY didn’t reveal that at first glance, but that was how it figured out. Now the charge on the unpaid balance is 6 per cent. It is a whacking cut in the price of automobiles and it is in part responsible for maintaining sales at an astonishing rate. The disbursement of billions for relief made thousands of automobile sales—not only direct sales to the government, which were not inconsiderable, but also indirectly by maintaining gross purchasing power. It is not too much to say that the New Deal saved the automobile industry—and apparently created its principal enemy in the process. Part of the answer is that men whose fortunes are thus restored can’t take their profits because of confiscatory income taxes in these high brackets. (Copyright, 1936, by United Feature Syndicate, Inc.).

Times Books

IF you like your mystery stories last-moving and hard-boiled, you are pretty apt to go lor “Judge Robinson Murdered!”, by R. L. Goldman (CowardMcCann: *2). Here is a book which carries you along so fast t hat you don’t notice the tale’s defects until after you have finished reading. It tells about a newspaper editor who, falling in love with the daughter of his bitterest enemy—a political boss whom he has sworn to destroy—has to leap to her aid when her father is mysteriously murdered. There are seme sinister gangsters in the story, an asylum for lunatics from which a Jack-the-Ripper inmate opportunely escapes, sundry shots in the dark, and enough all-around excitement to make the book very hard to lay down. * j FOR those who prefer their melodrama sea-going, there is “The Uncharted Island,” by Sydney Parkman (Harper’s: 52). This one has to do with a young American ex-bootl gger (a fine lad, for all that) who ships on a PacifV; liner to escape the law, runs into a pretty girl, mees with a shipwreck, and winds up on a South Sea island after divers exciting experiences. You could go far and do a good deal worse.

Westbrook Pegler