Indianapolis Times, Volume 47, Number 286, Indianapolis, Marion County, 7 February 1936 — Page 19
It Seems to Me imoil BROUN WASHINGTON, Feb, 7.—John L. Lewis just about tore the head off William Green in one of the most extraordinary oratorical bouts ever fought in America. Green talked for one hour and a helf. Lewis used three minutes. The scene was the convention of the United Mine Workers of America, sitting in Constitution Hall, the sorority house of the Daughters of the American Revolution. William Green as president of the American Federation of Labor had come to
serve warning on Lewis and his followers that they must desist from active agitation for the industrial setup. In all fairness to Green it must be admitted that under extremely severe conditions he made a good and gallant speech. It was muddled in its logic, and the mood was not consistent. At times Green cajoled, and again he threatened. But in spite of boos in several spots and a long, agonizing period in which he received thunders of silence he kept throwing punches. It is impossible to avoid a
; ———-—7
Ileywood Broun
comparison to the fate of the last unfortunate heavyweight who fought Joe Louis. William Green began slowly and in conventional manner. He did a twelve-minute autobiography in the best approved labor style. ft tt a Eloquence in Silence LEWIS was perhaps even a shade more silent. He did not face the president of the American Federation of Labor but sat deep in a red leather rocking chair chewing a cold cigar and looking frigidly over his shoulder toward the guest speaker. As Green warmed up he made a few telling sallies. At first he only jabbed. But at last he let his right hand go and undertook to speak somewhat sharply about John L.’s leadership of the miners. Green finished with both hands above his head and all the floodlights turned on full. There was a fair smattering of applause. "Answer him, John. Sock it to him!” shouted a delegate in the third row. Lewis rose slowly from the rocker and tossed the cigar down. His face was white. The startling effect, of pallor is always with him. Generations of miners have gone before him. The big man seemed almost to be pushing his way up through the earth. He did not answer Green but turned to the delegates. "You hive heard the speech of William Green, president of the American Federation of Labor,” he said. "If any delegate has been converted let him stand up.” Two delegates stood and were rapidly shouted down. "If any delegate wishes to quit the position taken by the United Mine Workers of America let him stand up,” repeated Lewis. No one rose. “Then,” said John L., “let those who hold by the resolution already adopted by the United Mine Workers of America stand up.” Up came seventeen hundred men yelling. tt tt tt Green Gels His Answer lEWIS waved for silence and turned to his adversary in the fight between craft and industrial unionism. "President Green,” he said, “you have had your answer from the convention of the United Mine Workers of America. You are an ambassador from another organization. Take back the message which we send, and I trust that you have been treated with all the civility and courtesy becoming to ambassadors.” Throughout the afternoon Lewis used the device of an economy of method. It seems to me that his one-minute introduction of Green was a masterpiece in poisonous politeness. He said: “I present to the convention an invited guest—a member of the United Mine Workers of America, eminent in the realm of labor, eminent in national affairs —the president of the American Federation of Labor, William Green.” Those were the words. But the mood and the tone were "and may God have mercy on your soul!” (Copyright, 1936)
Tide Project, Florida Canal Held 'Absurd' BY RAYMOND CLAPPER WASHINGTON, Feb. 7.—One of the incomprehensible things about this Administration is its ability to take a sound idea and boondoggle it into an absurdity. Even the most conservative economists supported the idea of public works as an economic balance wheel. Herbert Hoover was preaching pump priming years ago when some of our most eminent New
Dealers were wearing knee pants. However, when the Administration got its hands on the scheme, it acted like the kind of housewife who has to dress up the telephone in French doll clothes. Show it a Western desert and it must build a Coulee Dam. One Thomas Jefferson Memorial in St. Louis isn't enough. The government must spend $30,000,000 for a second one. Somebody said li, would be a good idea to cut a canal across the northern neck of Florida, so
millions are to be sunk there although vessels can go around the peninsula almost as quickly as they can crawl through the narrow canal. tt tt ft BUT gaudiest of all was the Passamaquoddy tide-harnessing project. - They don't know how they're going to do it but everybody is hard at work, spending and thinking. Even the staid old War Department. on which this tide-harnessing job was wished, has finally got inU. the spirit of the thing. It is building quarters for the workmen. Even if it doesn't quite know what the workmen are going to do, it is going to fix them up in artistic quarters. In advertising for bids its specifications calls for pastel green blankets with wide taffeta rayon bindings. Grandfather's clocks seven feet tall, pewter candlesticks, coffee and card tables. They're also going to buy some love seats! Meantime the Postoffice Department announces that Washington's only commercial airport is unsafe. It is to be closed next week. But a safe airport in the nation's capital is merely a practical necessity so, with all of those love seats to buy. you couldn’t expect the Administration to use any of that S4.OOO,COG,'XIO building a runway so:, passenger transport planes. Donald Richberg. former head of NRA. has written a book. “The Rainbow,” about the late experiment. Instead of raking over the old feuds, Richberg draws on his experience with NRA to discuss what can be done toward dealing with the problems which still remained after the Supreme Court spoke. a a a POLITICAL PARADE: Gov. Landor. is not going into the Ohio primaries. It looks as if Senator Borah will have to run there alone. . . . Francis Peck, University of Minnesota, agricultural economist and now credit adviser to the Farm Credit Administration, is the best bet for the farm member of the Federal Reserve Board soon to be named. . .. One of the farm state Democratic leaders, selecting hotel rooms for his farmer delegates to the Democratic national convention, insisted upon de luxe accommodations. He explained: “If we put them in piain rooms, they will feel at home and be too damned independent.” The Administration has overlooked something. When the tvuez Canal was opened, Verdi wrote the opera “Aida" to commemorate the occasion. Aren’t we going to have any grand opera with our public works projects?
During rrernt years King Edward VIII had abandoned his extensive travels, had given up his riding, many of his light-hearted activities. To And the reason for this change of personality, it is necessary to join the then Prince of Wales on a big-game hunt in Africa, when the biggest crisis of his life overtook him. ... a crisis even more significant than his coolnoss when a wounded lion charged madly toward him These colorful details comprise today’s installment of the new monarch's amazing career. (Copyright, 1936, by Frazier Hunt. Published by arrangement with Harper & Bros). JN the whole colorful life of King Edward VIII no moment has ever quite equaled in dramatic intensity the one that came at the end of a November day in 1928, on a hunting trip far back in the interior of East Africa. Cut off from civilization in the deep vastness of this wild country, native runners had brought a cablegram to the camp of the then Prince of Wales. King George V had taken a turn for the worse. Immediately a motor car was prepared for the rough journey over the wild, jungle trails that passed for roads. It was a hundred miles to this tiny settlement of Dodo-
ma in Tanganyika, East Africa, and an additional 250 miles by railway to the coast. King condition was alarming. Pleurisy had set in and anything might happen. The cable had been signed by the Prime Minister, but it had been left for the Prince himself to decide whether or not he should return. All that night the reflection of great fires along the track shone through the windows of the Prince's stateroom, and time and again he was awakened by the shouting of groups of natives. The next morning he asked the government interpreter what it was they had called out. tt tt tt THE official hesitated and then answered: “The ‘grape-vine telegraph’ has passed the word that ‘the old King’ was dead. They were cheering ‘the new King,’ sir.” The Prince made no comment. Possibly at this moment he might actually be the new King. With his second brother, the Duke of Gloucester, he had left Victoria Station in London on Sept. 6. On a sandy space in the center of an East African native quarter, under giant mango trees, with acetylene torches stuck in the ground to furnish the weird light, hundreds of .half-naked natives were to taka part in a wild barbaric dance for him. Their black bodies glistening in the flickering light like polished ebony, they swayed to the passionate rhythm of the Uganda drums.
HERE was the fabled big game country of East Africa. There was no end of crocodiles, hippos, buffalos and elephants. Trailing one great bull elephant for 20 miles the Prince got a shot in, and a pair of 65-pound ivory tusks was his reward. Soon he had his second elephant. Some days later after returning to Nairobi and then starting out into new country, his car broke down and while it was being repaired he went after lions. A splendid male was located just after it had killed a deer. The Prince fired, wounding the animal in the side. Roaring, the lion charged. The Prince pumped in two i. lore shots, one in the throat and one in the chest, bringing down the animal a few feet from where he stood. On Nov. 24. the Prince plunged again into the wilds. That day the King, thousands of miles away, was thought to be dying. It was then that alarming word was brought to his eldest son, and he had hurried at once to the lonely station of Dodoma and that night started on his long journey home. The morning he reached the coast and boarded H. M. S. Enterprise he received a wireless from London with even more alarming news. nun THE Queen was awaiting him at the top of the grand stairway, when at last he reached home. She took this eldest son of hers in her arms and kissed him. He asked one or two questions about his father, and then in the hall he talked for a minute with the two physicians. A moment later, alone except for his mother, he entered the bedroom of the stricken King. “I’m glad to see you, father,” he said in a brave voice. “I'm glad to see you, David,” the King whispered. A wan smile spread over the bearded face of the gentle King. “Did you kill any lions, David?” he questioned. The Prince laughed: “One big one, father,” he answered. “I’m going to give you the skin.” “Thanks, my boy, the King whispered. It was not a King meeting a Prince; it was a father welcoming home his dearly beloved son. All this was to have an impor-
Clapper
/ye SSIR, as a guest / (OF LAKE PLACID YOU I ARE ENTITLED TO INDULGE! UN ANY WINTER SPORT V pesir ' ii -i- . C
Full Leased Wire Service of the United Press Association.
The
BACHELOR PRINCE Who Became KING
Illness of George V Stalled Race From Africa to His Bedside BY FRAZIER HUNT
BENNY
The Indianapolis Times
tant part in the changing personality of the Prince. tt tt tt SHORTLY after his dramatic return home and while the King was convalescing, I had an interesting talk with the Prince in his study in St. James’ Palace. I mentioned to him how busy he must be with all his increased duties that, with the illness of his father, had fallen heir to. “Busy?” he responded, flashing his friendly smile. “I’ve never been so busy in my life. Why, I don’t even have time to ride any more. You know I've sold all my horses except one or two old pensioners. It costs a lot to keep horses when you're not using them.” He dropped his eyes. He sensed he wasn’t tooling me very much; he knew that I understood how much he loved horses and what riding and hunting really meant to him. It wasn’t economy but rather a sense of duty that was the compelling force. Then a moment later he went on: “But I do miss riding more than I can say. It’s the one really thrilling exercise that I’ve ever found. I wouldn’t give a bob to get on an old crock and gallop around a bridle path in a park. That isn’t real riding.” So it was that the Prince truly came of age. One might say that anew Prince was born. For one thing he was to emerge as the master salesman of Britain. He had been in every corner of
WASHINGTON, Feb. 7.—The Supreme Court, presidential politics and the debate on neutrality have pushed the relier problem out of the limelight recently. But behind the scenes a big storm is brewing. The President withheld relief estimates in his budget message to Congress, explaining he would submit them in the spring when requirements could be gauged more accurately. Unmentioned, but a definite part of this maneuver, is the secret plan of the Administration drastically to slash Federal relief expenditures by reshifting the load to the states and cities. The extent to which this has already been done, however, is not generally realized. Direct relief has been entirely discontinued, several million socalled “unemployables” have been thrown wholly back on their own localities. Finally these localities have been required to put up varying proportions of work-relief and public works costs. But while the public is not aware of this development, local authorities are most acutely so. Particularly is this true of the mayors. With treasuries already strained to the breaking point, they are being called on, to provide large sums for a tragic army of needy whose numbers remain practically unchanged despite the upturn of business. This was the desperate dilemma behind the recent announcement of the United States Conference of Mayors that it would demand a new $2,340,000,000 relief appropriation for the next fiscal year. The figure is not a guesswork calculation. It is based on specific information, obtained from a secret questionnaire sent out by the Conference to 188 cities and every state in the Union. The poll uncovered some revealing facts, chief among them that, despite all the clamor for economy, local and state authorities emphatically believe that present Federal relief expenditures are inadequate and should be creasedThe results of the poll are being compiled and are to be laid before Congress by a special committee of mayors, appointed to lobby for more relief funds. n n n Coal Story RUMORS persist thut coal is kept in bath tubs of resettlement houses at Arthurdale, W. Va.. in which Mrs. Roosevelt is interested. Upon being reminded of this story, the First Lady replied: “I think it would be terribly in-
f jgg gray V wll •T y ' v '‘
Splash! go Prince and horse together when the horse refuses a jump in an army point-to-point race at Reading. The Prince, seen vaulting off, helped extricate the horse from the ditch.
the world. He knew the true conditions. With his own eyes he had seen the United States and a desperately serious Germany and a keen and ambitious Japan slowly crowd out and replace Britain in the markets of the world. tt tt tt TOWARD the end of 1930, in a radio speech at the Guildhall to the incorporated Sales Managers Association, he showed what a practical, hard-headed yet imaginative business man he really was. His rather high-pitched voice ringing with sincerity, he said: “Here, in this Guildhall, my father a generation ago besought England to Wake Up! I appeal again to the leaders of British trade to WAKE UP thoroughly—to consider fully—to act decisively!” About this time a delegation from the British Chamber of Commerce in Buenos Aires came to London and asked the Prince if
Washington Merry-Go-Round BY DREW PEARSON and ROBERT S. ALLEN
convenient to keep coal in the bath tub, as it would be very far away from the furnace. In the houses at Arthurdale they have to go up to the second floor to the bathroom, and that would mean that they would have to carry their coal downstairs.” nun Doctor’s Trick IF Congress carries through its proposal to investigate the Townsend old-age pension organization, there probably will come to light the little “joke” played by the aged doctor on the House Ways and Means Committee. When testifying before the committee, last year, Dr. Townsend was placed in a hot spot by the crossfire of questions, and groped for an excuse to request adjournment. At this moment a question was asked calling for certain figures —and the doctor saw his opening. He told the committee he could not answer that question until his chief actuary arrived. He men-, tioned Francis Cuttle of Riverside, Cal., and said he was expected by plane the following day. The committee took the good doctor’s word for it and adjourned. They did not know that Mr. Cuttie was not an actuary but a prosperous orange grower. Nor did they know that he was not en route to Washington, but was actually in the committee room at the moment, having come there that morning in the company of Dr. Townsend. nun Noise Annoys REP. TREADWAY laid a grave problem before the House the other day. “May I inquire,” asked the bulky Massachusetts Republican, “whether any effort is being made to lessen the noise in the House restaurant. It is perfectly terrible to go down into that room during the noon hour.” “I think the gentleman has raised a very important question that should be acted on by Congress,” said Rep. Clifton Woodrum, Virginia Democrat. “I shall be glad to join the gentleman in a resolution if he thinks it is constitutional. I am afraid, however, it might be attacked by the gentleman’s colleagues as unconstitutional. If members make too much fuss when they eat their soup . . .” “It is not that kind of noise,” snapped Rep. Treadway.
FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 7,1936
he would serve as Patron of the British Trade Exposition that they were to open in the Argentine. The Prince readily agreed. A few days later the committee decided that it was only right that the Prince should have the final say on who should formally open the exposition. A single member was chosen to call on the prince and request that he make the choice from a list of three; names presented. For several minutes the Prince walked up and down his study in deep thought. Then he turned to his visitor. “I want to ask a question and I want a straight answer,” he began. “Suppose I went over and opened your exposition myself, would it help the British workmen over here? Would it help trade and result in more employment?” The visitor stammered out that it would do an immeasurable amount of good. “Very well,” the Prince conclud-
Clipped, Wings npHE man who turned the CWA -*■ trick for Harry Hopkins, putting 4,000,000 men to work in 30 days, is having his wings clipped. It was Jake Baker, Mr. Hopkins’ assistant administrator, who carried the brunt of that program, and managed the outlay of more than 863 million dollars. He remained ace-high during FERA and WPA reorganization, managed the entire cattle buying program, has supervised all labor relations, has executed more projects than any other man in the outfit. But now Mr. Baker is being brought down from the high places. Reason is that with the aproaching demand for additional relief funds—and with the election in the offing—politicos have cautioned against having an aggressive left-winger standing out in front. Also he bungled the censorship of the WPA theatrical project in New York. Mr. Baker is an easy target for charges of having been a labor sympathizer and a Greenwich Village pink. Consequently, anew assistant administrator is being groomed to take over parts of his work. He is Thad Holt, able Alabama state administrator. Mr. Baker soon will find himself stripped down to the white collar jobs—theater, art, music and writers’ projects. (Copyright, 1936. by United Feature Syndicate, Inc.)
3896 ENROLL AT I. U. FOR SPRING SEMESTER Final Registration Is Expected to Reach 4250 Mark. By United Press BLOOMINGTON, Ind., Feb. 7. Registration for the second semester at Indiana University reached 3896 students today, Thomas A. Cookson, assistant registrar, announced. Additional registrations before the semester opens are expected to boost the total to 4250. There are 2509 men students and 1387 co-eds registered, Mr. Cookson said. Enrollment for the fall semester was 4535. Stamp Club to Hold Auction Members are invited to bring items for an informal auction at a meeting of the Indiana Stamp Club tonight in the Lockerbie.
ed. “Go back and tell your committee that if they approve I will gladly do so.” n n n A ND the Prince made good his promise. At the formal opening of the great Trade Exposition he spoke first in English and then in Spanish. For months before leaving England he had studied the official language of most of South America. The trip was work, but now and again he edged in an exciting day of air travel or a bit of sport. Outside of San Paulo, Brazil, he took part in a wild-pig hunt in a tropical forest. He was overlooking nothing. He visited cattle estancias in the Argentine and great coffee plantations in Brazil. But the moment that delighted him most of all occurred on the San Vincente Golf Club at Santos, Brazil, where he made a hole in one. Ever since the war he had been deeply interested in the management of his own estates, the Duchy of Cornwall. It has holdings in eight great counties in England, and large housing properties in the Kennington district of London, including the famous Oval, the grounds of the Surrey County Cricket Club. The Duchy raises, mines, manufactures and sells varied items and rents both farm lands and city houses. It is entirely the personal property of the Prince of Wales—now King Edward—but it is handled much as any great business would be. Important matters are passed on by the Duchy council that meets regularly. nun THIS Council consists of nine members with the Prince of Wales as chairman, but' the active management is in the hands of the Secretary to the Duchy, who for some years past has been the able and energetic Maj. Hilgrove McCormick. But the King, while Prince of Wales, eagerly followed every detail in the running of his 137,000 acres of land and city property—with its 120,000 farm tenants and town dwellers. The total gross income from all his properties is $1,600,000 annually. It nets $350,000 personal income each year. The deepest personal interest the Prince had in his estates centered in his housing properties in Kennington, London, and his home farms some 20 miles from Plymouth, Devonshire. Until a few years ago his London holdings consisted largely of street after street of rather oldfashioned tenements. The Prince for a long time had insisted that these be torn down and modern flats at low rentals be erected. In the council room of the Duchy of Cornwall’s own office building near Buckingham Palace, sits the exact model of Newquay House, built in the heart of the Prince’s London holdings, containing 90 modern three, four and five-room flats that rent for $4 to $6 per week. Other buildings are to follow, and as quickly as possible the ancient buildings are to be torn down, and light, clean, modern flats erected —and always with the distinct provision that the rents shall be low. At the personal request and insistency of the Prince, the exclusive Oval Cricket Ground has for two winter seasons been turned into a clubhouse for unemployed. TOMORROW: Making a monarch social minded . . . his horror over slum squalor . . . the unemployed Briton finds an influential friend ... in the mud and poverty of mine districts . . . feting the V. C.’s.
By J. Carver Pusey
Second Section
Entered a* Second-Claaa Matter at l'oatoffice. Indianapolis, Ind.
Fair Enough IM HER T ONDON. Feb. 7.—The King of England gets about five million dollars a year, out of which he must pay the expenses of his office, including grocery bills, servants, wages, donations and all such costs as other people have to contend with, except rent. Mussolini and Hitler receive no stipulated salary, but simply help themselves out of the safe whenever they find themselves in need of cash, which is seldom.
Another reason why the dictators have no interest in money is the fact that they know too much about their kind of money to place any great value upon it. No man can retain a great respect lor money who is in a position to telephone the Bureau of Printing and Engraving an order to print a million lire or marks and send it over. One day recently when Mussolini was steaming up his Abyssinian war before a crowd of peasants in the new village of Pontinia he stood for an hour after his speech handing out di-
plomas to prize-winning farmers for raising superior beets or oats or broccoli, and with each diploma went anew banknote. The notes ranged in size from 50 to 1000 lire. an a No Need for Cash A NOTHER day he discovered in a crowd a woman *- who had 15 children and whose husband was out of a job. Mussolini turned to one of hi* Black Shirts and said, “Give me a thousand lire.” The Black Shirt produced the bill from a package of money fresh from the press. It is hardly likely that Mussolini and Hitler ever pay cash for anything, because they are the state, and every commodity which is supplied to them and every service rendered them are chargeable to the state. It may be that, like ex-King Alfonso of Spain and the late Alexander of Yugoslavia, they have planted some gold or foreign securities or currency in Paris or London as a precaution against accidents, but that seems very unlikely, for they appear to be indifferent to material possessions. Like the English King, they are guaranteed every comfort and luxury they may desire as long as they hold office, and if they should ever fall money would be the least of their worries. Although both dictators address their appeal principally to the common people, neither makes any pretense of sharing the humble comfort and fare of the forgotten man. Neither eats much, however, and they both shun tobacco and alcohol, so actually the cost of keeping body and soul together is not as great as their official splendor would suggest. tt tt tt How Things Change TT7ITH the new King of England the case Is dif- * ’ ferent, for he is known to enjoy a snifter, and he smokes and plays golf and when they hand him his $5,000,000 it is understood that he will pay for his own keep and that of his household. In Rome nobody knows how much Mussolini sends home to the little woman, but she lives quietly and the gieatest cost of maintaining her consists of the expense of guarding her from molestation. Mussolini has a certain sense of humor and subtly appreciates the picture which is presented to the outside world as the son of a village blacksmith who was once a poor reporter with the seat out of his pants and who has no use for money now that he can print all he wants. Wythe Williams, the American Journalist, knew Mussolini as a reporter 15 years ago and met him again as dictator in the Duce’s big office in the Venetian Palace. He walked half a block from the door to Mussolini’s desk as the Difce stood there putting on his stock scowl and arrived a little out of breath. “That’s a helluva long walk,” said Mr. Williams. Mussolini grinned, dropped his pose and said, “Yes, it’s a long way here from where we last met.”
Gen. Johnson Says—
TITASHINGTON, Feb. 7.—George Peek, born on * ’ farm, had to leave college to go to work for a great plow company, and rose in 25 years from a $5-a-week job to the principal vice presidency. That schooled him in labor, industry, agriculture, commerce, finance and international trade. As Commissioner of Finished Products, he supervised our war production, gaining a vast experience and the respect of industry and labor. He then unhappily took over an old implement company which was caught and smashed by the post-war “liquidation of agriculture.” That farm catastrophe decided his future. For 14 years he has devoted his entire time and fortune to work for “equality for agriculture.” n n n TIE is a Republican, but he organized the farm states for Smith. He finally delivered them to Roosevelt. His long fight, when Wallace was undecided and Tugwell unknown, made him our foremost leader. As AAA Administrator he couldn’t stand the Hot Dogs and withdrew to spend more than a year studying export trade. He proved our farm policy to be superbly mounted and galloping in all directions at the same time. The Administration disagreed. He again withdrew. Here is a liberal, independent Republican fighter who knows government, industry, agriculture, labor, finance and foreign trade. Bankers don’t like him. Farmers love him, He has courage, steadfastness, intelligence and integrity. Best of all, he is not a candidate. He is in politics for agriculture and not in agriculture for politics. The Republicans have no better man. (Copyright. 1936. by United Feature Syndicate. Ine.)
Times Books
IF all the novels that have been written about the man who is unjustly accused of a crime some one else committed could be laid end to end it might be possible for our novelists to find some new themes. I mean to say, the subject is just a shade hackneyed. But it is more or less a sure-fire recipe, nevertheless, and so I suppose a good mar.v people will be glad to read “The Long Tunnel,” by Sidney Fairway. (Doubleday, Doran and Cos ; $2.) This book introduces us to the faculty of an English medical college. We are asked to pay especial attention to one research worker who is under something of a cloud, because he had just been accused of murdering a fellow worker. a a a r |''o be sure, he was tried and found not guilty; ■*- but people figured that it was just one of those things, and that he really had perpetrated the crime and got away with it. So everybody gossips about him, and nobody is very nice to him. But it turns out (ah. there!) that he really is innocent, and that ne really knows who did it, but can't prove it; and it seems that if he can work out a research problem which had been .occupying the corpus delicti at the time of the crime, he’ll be able to hang the crime on the real culprit. So the story tells us how he does it, and also how he wins the hand of the slightly obtuse daughter of a nearby village parson. (By Bruce Cation.) .. W
Westbrook Pegler
