Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 14 July 1936 — Page 11

eems to M

W YORK, July 14.—William Allen . White has pinned a brand new sin on Franklin Roosevelt. The columnist of the Republican National Committee finds that

the Democratic candidate uses an amplifier

‘when talking before a large audience and also makes use of the radio. To Mr. White this is sure evidence of fascism. Indeed, in writing of the ‘speech at Franklin Field, the Emporia editor said: “There for a moment personal government flashed out its leader— Der Fuehrer—and variously he used the radflio and the amplifier—the new mechanism which has bound with hypnotic spell the European countries to their personal leaders.” I think one has a right to question the sincerity of Mr. White at this point.- The radio and the amplifier are not unknown in Kansas. What was curious about Roosevelt's using an amplifier in talking to a large crowd? I am aware of the fact that Gov. Landon purposes to go from point to point in a horse-drawn buggy, but until I see it with my own eyes I doubt that he intends to campaign through a megaphone. Although William Allen White is proud of the editorial reputation which he built up with his paper in Emporia, he has become in the last six or seven years a citizen of the world and even a cosmopolite. He is seen at first nights on Broadway and observed sipping sarsaparilla along the boulevards of Paris. But * for the purposes of the campaign Mr. White has gone ' completely Kansas. Come out from behind that sunflower, Bill; we know you as a man about town.

” ” ” Same Protection for Landon

ERE is some more of the native approach in building up the theory of Roosevelt asa Fascist. Curi- _ ously enough, we find Mr. White lapsing into the his- _ torical present made popular by Arthur Brisbane and Damon Runyon: : “Suddenly from out an entrance comes a car—a . big car with heralds and outriders. Around the grassy ; ring are stationed a thousand men, riot cops. Some are mounted on prancing horses. All carry deadly firearms.” i: If Bill White were a lightweight boxer rather than an editor from Emporia he would lose that round because of a palpable foul. That is hitting below the belt, and Mr. White should know as much. In Miami an assassin tried to kill Roosevelt just before the beginning of his term. Newspaper men who were with him then all agree that he never showed the slightest fear at the time or since and that he has insisted on Soing things which his Secret Service guards consider risky. : The Franklin Field address was a very dangerous * spot for any American President or presidential candidate. If Gov. Landon speaks at any large meeting in Philadelphia he will get exactly the same police protection. The local authorities will insist on. it. And to put it in plain English, the outriders whom Bill White saw were mounted cops. The heralds were motorcycle policemen with sirens.

" = » Regimentation on Empty Stomachs I WISH Bill White or Walter Lippmann had tried to

sell some of their “no regimentation” stuff tothe breadliners of the winters of 1929, 1930, 1931 and 1932.

ET ELT

Heywood Broun

That was real regimentation. : Five or six thousand

men stood in line waiting for a 15-cent meal ticket. I wonder what would have happened if Bill White had run into one of ‘the men who didn’t get a ticket. I wonder if Kansas Bill could have stirred him up by congratulating him on his possession of freedom and independence. Then a man could go and sleep in the lodging house on the East River or the one at South Ferry. He had freedom of choice. But if either Bill or Walter had insisted on carrying on the congratula-

tions about independence for more than a fleeting sec- ,

ond I think the breadliner would have soaked. him in the jaw. It would have been a very periment. I'd like to see it tried out.

My Day

BY ELEANOR ROOSEVELT H™® PARK, N. Y., Monday.—An early morning ride and the departure of several guests, a little marketing and visiting by the way, took up a good part of the morning. Then to the cottage to gather up the morning mail. I ordered luncheon for eight before I left the big house, and carefully asked my husband if he knew of any extra guests. When I drove up at 1 o'clock there were at least five cars parked in the drive and 10 gentlemen wandering around the porch. I had a sinking feeling, and wondered if we were going to have a large luncheon party for which we were entirely unprepared. However, I soon found that they were departing and we had a quiet luncheon. This afternoon I went to see a very lovely friend of mine and when I was about to leave she remarked: 4 “I think in this life we always have to do our uty.” I gasped for a moment, for that sentiment goes back to my grandmother's day at least. It is far more typical of our New England ancestors than the average philosophy of today. Must we always do our duty? If so, how are we always to know what is our duty? A wise aunt of mine used to say: “Do everything you want to do, but always be quite sure that in your heart of hearts you are at peace with yourself about doing it. It does not matter what people think, but if you aré uncomfortable yourself then you will have no happiness.” I believe that I would rather like to go through life with this more cheerful philosophy of trying to make duty coincide as far as possible with what one would like to do, being sure, however, that what I do leaves my inner consciousness satisfied and untroubled. Afterward I shall see my husband off to the train for the port in Maine, where he joins the boys and they start on their cruise, I doubt whether the boys are longing for fog as my husband is, but no matter what the weather, I am sure they will have a good time. 5 (Copyright, 1936, by United Feature Syndicate, Inc.)

New Books

THE PUBLIC LIBRARY PRESENTS— NALIFORNIA, AN INTIMATE GUIDE, complete : with maps and a section of photographs (Harper; $3.50), is by a native son, Aubrey Drury. The author says that it is written primarily for “travelers from a long distance,” and indeed his descriptive adJectives of the beauty and importance of his state, combined with the many statistics he quotes, might make good as Chamber of Commerce material. He writes well of the history of the state and its literary background and then launches a brilliant descriptive parade of the beauty spots on California highways and byways. The readeg is guided from San Diego and the “southwest corner,” ‘the Missions country, the Santa Clara Valley, the Yosemite, to Ldke Tahoe; and surely there isnt a of any height or a creek with any his-

5 g£-

; descripdelights of his native state, and his book

£5 §

tor to California.

gor 4

8 8

has

interesting ex-

especially interesting to any prospective or |

cond Section

. TUESDAY, JULY 14, 1936

THE MIDDLE WEST

Better Times at Hand, Ohioan Believes.

Motoring east from political Kansas, Forrest Davis has stopped en route to gather local opinions on natienal affairs. The following is his fifth and last dis-

atch. r " » 2

BY FORREST. DAVIS Times Special Writer

AN WERT, O., July 14. —1 stopped by Uncle Will's farm partly to see

"how he had weathered the

depression but more to learn how an authentic pioneer looks at the politicoeconomic .hubbub of 1936. I found Uncle Will serene, comfortably off, erect and still work-brittle at 73, and I got a revealing glimpse into an older .America— that before finafice capital, intimations of cviiectivism, new eras and New Deals.

It had been 30 years since I visited this farm, but it seemed entirely familiar. Uncle Will behaved as casually as if I had been there only last week, promptly taking me down to the barnyard to see his herd of 17 purebred Jerseys. The herd, I quickly learned, is his pride. ; Five of the cows were dry, he explained in his high-pitchad, tranquil old voice. This year he was again building up the herd; keeping the best of the heifers, weeding out unprofitable milkars. During the depression Uncle Will “vealed” heifers as well as steers. The dairy market for purebred. heifers was off. ; Times are better than for many years. Uncle Will more or less feels that through his pores.

” = 2 OWN by a woodlot his youngest boy was cultivating corn. Only one of Uncle Will's four sons is on the place now. Together, Uncle Will and the boy, Carey, branched out this spring. They rented 65 acres across the road, planting it in corn and oats. That makes 160 acres under cultivation, with Uncle Will's own wellditched, 95 acres. ; Uncle Will is indifferent but reconciled to the New Deal, although he has received few direct benefits from jt and is a bit scornful of those who have. Salty about. politics,“ contemptuous of. politicians, humorous over the “do-less” foibles of the young, he was pretty. hard on Europe. He wouldn't recognize a Communist or a Fascist if he put in at the back door for a handout. Foreign ideas don’t figure in his calculations, Suspicious of Europe, he thinks poorly of countries that prepare for a new war ‘before they've paid for the last. He regards our European debtors as little better than deadbeats who run out on their store bills. . -Uncle Will is well rooted in this rich, Ohio lcam. Long use and want have made him seem to grow out of his. landscape, the flat fields, wide-porched white house, busy windmill, vast red barn, overhanging milk shed, painted outhouses and picket fence inclosing the house lot, with its fruit and shade trees and flower beds. . But if his situation appears idyllic now, it was not always so.

tJ = 2 HE Davises came to Van Wert County in 1871, hunger fugitives from the rocky hills of

“Harvest Field” by William M.

Ritasse, Black Star Photo.

Entered as Second-Cl

ass Matter

at Postoffice. Indianapolis. Ind.

southeastern Ohio. : The family consisted of ‘father and mother, six sons and one’ daughter—a pioneer’s brood. ‘In 1871, Uncle Will recalled today, there were a few wolves around,” many. wildcats and plenty of deer. Once he saw a bear. Much of Van Wert County was swamp—the Great Dismal Swamp, it ‘appeared on the maps. Before the clan could get to farming they had to clear away dense timber. They built a log house and barns, ‘corduroy roads and settled down to the real job of draining the land. Backbreaking work and poorly remunerated. Uncle Will reflects with pride that he cleared 80 acres on his own hook. His hands, square, muscular tools, confirm the boast. “In a wet year nothing grew,” the pioneer recalled. “Then we had to live all winter on salt meat and corn pone. The government didn’t help us out.” At home in that earlier America, Uncle Will makes out much better in the present. A citydweller gets’ the impression out of the news that virtually all American farmers are distressed and that most are, like Indians, wards of the government. The impression is, of course, erroneous. ” z ” EBT-FREE owner of his fertile acres and sound buildings, Uncle Will has money in the bank, his taxes paid. With hogs

‘at 10 cents a pound, milk fetch-

ing him 5.3 cents a quart from the local cheese factory, he shows a profit. He lacks for no convenience—telephone, electricity, motor car, radio. His kitchen has an electric washer, a mangle, an electric iron. Uncle Will, who belongs to the dwindling, - frugal class once

‘known as the “backbone of the

country,” never speculated in land. From boyhood, he believed that

one got, by and large, what one

LET'S EXPLORE YOUR MIND

BY DR. ALBERT EDWARD WIGGAM

sane

IT CERTAINLY is if the party with the money is made to be-

FOR BETTERING ONES FINANCIAL CONDITION BE CONSIDERED

and the scores indicated that

a a

SSS

Pl =H HAS THE INCREASE IN THE NUMBER OF HIGH SCHOOL PUPILS RESULTED IN ADMITTING YOUTHS OF LOWER,

INTELLIGENCE?

ESN 2

PRACTICALLY EVERYBODY. 16 EITHER RIGHT-OR-LEFT . EY ALO

2 AANDED. ARE TH AFRAID! “ere. FOOTED? rw EEG Iv

Frac i Budi

worked for. Some of his neighbors mortgaged their home places to buy more land during the postwar boom when prices were as high as $250 an acre. Others sold out and moved to town, investing their gains in the shares of utility holding companies. Uncle Will committed neither indiscretion. “I recollect a good neighbor who argued with me about buying more land,” Uncle Will said. “He as‘sured me that farm prices would never come down again. That was ‘when Wilson was President after the war. I said that I had observed that what went up must come down. ‘History teaches,’ I told him, ‘that every war is followed ‘by a panic.’ ”

2 ” #

GitrinG tight amid plenty, the one-time pioneer observes: now that many giltedged farms in Van Wert. County have new owners. The banks and insurance companies hold title to some but here and there, this year, young farmers are imitating Uncle Will's early sacrifices to pay out on

farms taken from over-extended owners or the banks. In his yoéuth, Uncle Will paid interest as high as 12 per cent. He detests debt. Short on economic theory, he is sound on sensible practices—avoid interest, work hard, breed only pursbred stock and farm intelligently. - Proud of his calling, he holds the farmer to be “the essential man— the city fellow couldn’t exist with.out him.” : : But he has a clear grasp of the interdependence between city and country. He disposes of his milk to the cheese factory, which processes it into a superior brand seiling, Uncle Will has been told, at $1 a pound in New York City. A price which seems to him extravagant. :

“If the people. in New York .

can’t pay a dollar a pound for cheese,” he reasoned as he showed me cans of milk cooling in the milk house trough, “the factory can’t afford to pay me a ‘good price for my milk. And if I don’t - get a good price, I can’t buy what they make off there in New York.”

NCURIOUS about New York, he has never been there. A true pioneer, he dislikes what he knows about town life anywhere. He vaguely connects it with sore feet and it is plain that he associates cities with the long waits he endured as a younger man on the Van Wert Courthouse steps while the women folk did their Saturday’s trading. In his boyhood, going to town on Saturday was a trial to country feet. : Uncle Will referred to the war talk in the papers. Although wars bring high prices to the farmer, he is a determined pacifist. “I pray to God,” he said simply, “that they've got enough sense down there in Washington to keep out of the next war.” His clear blue eyes snapped. “The last one brought us nothing but grief. Nobody paid us and we're worse off than before.” The war debts bother Uncle Will—but he’s no pessimist. I cite the 65 planted acres across the ad and_the heifers which, this year, will’ improve tHE erd; and"

not go to the butcher. ". THE END

BY HUGH S. JOHNSON EW YORK, July 14—This is a piece about one of the most important figures on the stage of national affairs just now—John L. Lewis. The country got a chance to become acquainted with him the other night when David Sarnoff gave him a free half-hour on a national radio hook-up to state his side of the coming struggle in the steel industry. He delivered one of the best orations of the year. At that moment, Mr. Sarnoff, as president of Radio Corp. of America, was strug-

his own’ company by some of Mr. Lewis’ bright young men. Negotiations growing out of that situation brought Mr. Lewis and Mr. Sarnoff into contact for the first time. Final agreement on the strike did not result, but mutgal respect and admiration did. The incident proms ises well for peaceful outcome of the threatening labor difficulties ahead. It requires toleration and reasonable attitudes—men of strength and breadth and common sense. The leader on the labor side has these qualities. 2 'R ® HAVE known Mr. Lewis a long time, but I began to know him well only in the summer of 1932, when the Blue Eagle was being launched. The bituminous coal industry was the sickest pup in the whole NRA kennel. Through overdevelopment and a diminishing market, it had made no money for 10 years. In the price-war for vanishing business, wage cutting and extension of hours had gone so far that 400;000 miners were on the verge of starvation—and that meant the verge of armed rebellion. ‘There never has been a more threatening labor situation. The industry was divided into 17 warring groups, who had cut each others’ throats for so long that they hated each other as much as they hated John Lewis and his an-

gling with a strike called against:

HAILS LEWIS AS STRONG LEADER

some of the most reactionary and suspicious men in industry, who regarded him at the outset as Personal Devil No. 1—on the idea that they could do business with him with even more confidence than they could with each other. During those tortured, wrangling weeks he did both. It was a constant source of wonder to me. He was the peer of any man in those crowded conferences in every way —--ability, patience, strategy, eloquence, and, above all, honesty, fairness and courage. It was little short of a miracle, but he came out of that ordeal bearing a rescued industry in his arms. It was the fruit of the confidence he had inspired in former enemies during those weeks of mutual education under fire. There followed two years of experience under the resu.ting union contract between the operators and John L. Lewis. Instead of lagging, that confidence grew. These men have stood shoulder-to-shoulder

1 with Lewis, fighting to preserve

their satisfactory relationship after NRA went town. I don’t know of any harder proof of a man or of any harbinger more hopeful in the labor problem. If labor can produce leaders like Lewis, industry will learn that the labor partnership is a bcon and not a burden. The danger is that there are no more Lewises or that he can’t spread himself thin enough to control less responsible leaders.

GRIN AND BEAR |

‘debate, he has a tongue like a sur-

HERE is no man of my: acquaintance whom I would rather trust, and few judgments upon which I more rely. He is a terrific and remorseless fighter. In

geon’s scalpel. His oratory is sometimes florid but it is to the point. As an executive, he is a stern disciplinarian. There is nothing soft abdut him in conflict. He is leonine

and dynamic in aspect, and his aspect does not disguise his character. But in personal contacts he is considerate, gentle, generous and modest almost to timidity. In both his official and private roles he is honest, dependable and brave. In one abused and tortured word, John Lewis is a “gentleman.” Of course he is accused of a lust for power and of trying to dictate to industry, if not to the country. He didn’t try to dictate to bituminous coal. He just fought for a reasonable break for labor, and when he got it, he lived up to his obligations without over-reaching. In anthracite coal, he recognized | that the companies could not grant the fierce demands of the miners and live. He took his life as a labor leader in his hands and defied his own people. HE: doesn’t want political power. He wants what he thinks is industrial justice. I wouldn’t like to be standing in the way when he goes out to fight for it.

(Copyright, 1936, by United Feature : Syndicate. Inc.)

+ + by Lichty

Fair Zong WESTBROOK PEGL

EW YORK, July 14.—Meaning neither aid nor comfort for the corporations of the radio industry, these dispatches have & feeling that the American Society of Come

posers, Authors and Publishers sometimes

undertakes a type of brain-picking no less deplorable than that of the broadcasting firms whic :

- would like. to make free use of the nation's songs.

Gene Buck, late of the Ziegfeld establishment, &

composer who has contributed a few honest: tinkles of his own to the] American rhythm, is president of the society and one of the best informal lobbyists in the country. Starting from scratch, he organized a union of poets and.composers and, by the sunshine of a cordial, but canny. disposition, put through laws | and agreements to protect the au-| thor's property rights and to collect | fair royalties for the use of their material. But for Mr. Buck, all Songs would have been treated as = : € property of everybody in general i and nobody in particular, Jike the Westbrook Pegleg air. Mr. Buck is the foe of infringement and makes the corporations of the radio shower down cash mon for every rendition of any.song whose copyright bee longs to any member of his union, : :

: : Co” ” ” Guilty of Grave-Robbing

A LAUDABLE work all this, to be sure, but Mr, : Buck admitted, when your correspondent raised the point, that many favorite American songs of the last few years were not original compositions, but jobs of body-snatching from the weed-grown graves of men long dead. He agreed, specifically, that three prosperous hits of the last decade or so, all very much alike, were too much like an old English song and that one of these had even imitated the name of the English song which, in turn, resembled an old Gere man song of similar title. The most notorious feat of grave-robbing in American music, in which the ghoul plundered the works of three old masters, coms bining the best elements into one highly profitable whole, Mr. Buck conceded without debate. “That,” Mr. Buck said, “was larceny and I am against it and so is the society. I g0 around deplore ing larceny all the time. In fact, that was why I deplored the methods of the radio up to a few years ago. Those bums just sat back and let our boys do their stuff and put it on the air and played it to death without even saying they were much obliged. They said they were advertising the songs to millions of people who would rush out and buy phonograph ‘records. A lot of records people are going to buy when- they can turn a dial and get the same song - ‘ for nothing.” 2 ’

» ” Protect Their Stolen Property

BY your correspondent persisted, if the radie should refuse to pay royalties on a stolen tune would he insist on fighting the case? ; Sa ~~ Mr. Buck said the society would fight if the song were protected by copyright, even though the best opinion among the compcsers themselves agreed that It was filched from one of the old song books. The old song books, incidentally, seem to be an impor= tant source of current copyright material and Mr, Buck’s only explanation of that was that thers are : Only so many strings on a fiddle, so many notes on

F &horn.

Yet Victor Herbert, the god of the society, mane aged to avoid similarity, and such men as Kern, Gershwin, Friml and Vincent Youmans, among the proud names on the roster, are generally credited with having rolled their own from home-grown mas terials. It seems slightly ironic that art-larcenists, notorie ous among their colleagues for their mining opcra= tions in the graveyards of music, should be permitted to come into court to protect their rights in stolen property. Si

Merry-Go-Round

BY DREW PEARSON AND ROBERT S. ALLEN ASHINGTON, July 14.—The trials and tribulae tions of Elliott Roosevelt perhaps come chiefly from his apparent necessity for an annual income of around $15,000. : : : At the age of 25 this is not an easy figure to hi Elliott started being the black ay oe Tn When he was in Groton, traditional school of the Roosevelt family. He didn’t get along very well there, and transferred to a preparatory school at Princae ton. He was graduated at the age of 19, just two vears before the campaign which was to elect his fae ther President of the United States. a Elliott launched out with a New York advertising agency, later setting up his own firm of Kelly, Nason & Roosevelt, and still again transferring to the Paul Cornell Agency. / At that time Elliott was 20 years old, and naive enough to think he was being hired for his ability, not for his father’s position as Governor of New Yi He did not remain naive long, however. It bee : came all too apparent that the real reason large and long experienced companies were throwing their ade vertising business to Elliott's firm was because his father occupied a very important place in the state of New York. ; i There was, for instance. the case of E. L. heavy owner in American Airways, who hired Elliott's firm, the Paul Cornell Agency, to make a survey of a new airline he had just purchased. Elliott made the survey, for which he received $750, and says that thé report he submitted “was sufficiently uncomplimentary to Mr. Cord’s managers” to cause his joi to cease. Bite ; = This was while his father was campaigning for the presidency, and also enjoying the full support of Mr. Hearst. So Elliott, who had become an aviation enthusiast, went to work for the Hearst newspapers as aviation editor. i: : : But here again, Elliott was not particularly happy, The Hearst-Roosevelt -honeymoon came to an end, and very soon Elliott found himself linked with an organization which was constantly lampooning his

father. Meanwhile, Elliott had flirted with the idea

of going Hollywood, and had operated the Gilpin Airlines out of Los Angeles, owned by an old friend of his mother, Congresswoman Isabella Greenway.

: »” 2 = : INALLY, in the spring of 1934, Elliott went O. Max Gardner, ex-Governor North C; 20d sviriey for the Aetonautisal 1