Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 26 July 1937 — Page 13

Vagabond

From Indiana — Ernie Pyle

Three Mosquitoes and Membership In Midnight Sun Order Captured By Reporter as Arctic Souvenirs.

STEAMBOATIN * DOWN THE YUKON, July 26.—The first mosquito of the season came aboard while we were docked at Eagle night before last. He seemed lonely and lost. I said, “Are you one of those famous Alaskan

mosquitoes that get as big as horseflies? He said “Yes.” Next morning, at Heinie Miller's wood camp, which was marshy and wet from the recent flood, a dozen or two were buzzing around. A few of them came aboard for breakfast, and decided to go on down the river with us. At Coal Creek, where we were tied up all last night unloading mining machinery, the real Alas-’ kan mosquito season set in. But they're still sort of groggy, and don’t seem to know where they're going. You can slip up on them. During the evening I Killed three against my sweater. I have them now in an envelope and will send them, like pressed flowers, to a girl in Minnesota. Heat. Hea Beloved, beautiful, gorgeous, marvelous heat—at last. It came when we pulled in to the high bank at Circle. The breeze from the river ceased, and we walked ashore in a noonday quiet drenched with summer sun. Hot, beating sun. It came just in time. Another 24 hours, and I would have been one with the jceberg and the glacier, frozen stiff, forever beyond thawing.

Underground Refrigerator

The ground all under Alaska is frozen. And it thaws only shallowly in summertime. Up in Ft. Yukon, which we'll hit any minute now, they say that on a summer afternoon when it's 90 in the shade you can dig down and hit frozen ground within a foot. At Eagle, I made an excursion into a private underground refrigerator. We went into a shed, lifted a trapdoor, and descended by lantern light down spiral board steps. At the bottom were two rooms, filled with cabbages and hanging caribou meat, We shivered with the cold. It was about 20 above zero down there. The ground was frozen hard as a rock. We were only 30 feet below the surface. I have a new card to carry in my pocketbook, along with that White House press card. It says: “LIFE MEMBER—ORDER of the MIDNIGHT SUN. Know all you Sourdoughs and Cheechacos, that ‘Ernie Pyle’ was greeted by my court while crossing the Arctic Circle on the Yukon River, and was initiated into the Order of the Midnight Sun.—Signed, King Boreas.”

It Was a Gift

There really wasn't any initiation. The boat people simply filled out the card and left it at my place at the dinner table. But I'm proud of it anyway. Where the Arctic Circle crosses the Yukon there is a big round signboard over on the bank. It says simply “Arctic Circle.” Somebody keeps the brush cut down around it. The pilot always blows the whistle as you approach. All along the Yukon are small Indian villages, from

Mr. Pyle

50 to 100 miles apart. Just a few log cabins on the |

river bank, and a store or two, and a lot of dogs. Maybe half a dozen whites living there, running things. I am sorry, but I can’t get interested in Indians. Sure, I know we took the land away from them, and that they are a noble people and all that, but still I

can't get interested in them. Give me a good, wolfy | boiled

sled-dog for a pal, any day.

Mrs. Roosevelt's Day

By Eleanor Roosevelt

New England Added to First Lady's List of Places Delightful to Visit.

ROVIDENCE, R. I, Sunday—Early Saturday morning I left Hyde Park by motor. I was going to visit Mrs. Edward S. Ely, who is Jean Dixon on the stage, somewhere near Glouchester, Mass, and she wanted us to get there for lunch.

I have learned if you want to cover a great many miles, the thing to do is to get up early the morning, but somehow I never want to go to bed at night! I like to listen to the 11 p. m. news on the radio, I like to read for a while after I get into bed. It’s really a question of self-discipline to go to bed early enough to start off really early the next morning,

We didn't quite make it for lunch, but we weren't so very late in arriving in the afternoon. It is a long while since I have been to Gloucester. It has a picturesqueness and a flavor all its own which extends to the neighborhood. New England is a delightful part of the country. I sometimes think it is rather trying to like as many different parts of your own country as I do. When I am in the Southwest, I think Texas is enchanting with its wide open spaces and I know that I think Santa Fe is one of the most fascinating cities in the world. When I am on the West Coast, from San Diego to Seattle, I am enthralled by the life, the cimate, the people, the variety of scenery and the way of living. There is no part of my country I do not enjoy visiting but I know my own state of New York best. I always return to it with the feeling I think one should have about one’s home. It seems to me a state, lacking perhaps in certain things which may be found in other places, but having a great variety of scenery and of interest. When all is said and done, “this is my home and I love it.”

I know New England almost as well. There is a sense of age and a feeling that people have had time and leisure to beautify their own particular spot. You get it nowhere else in our country. You can pick out many individual houses and corners of gardens which you would like to paint if the Good Lord had given you the ability to be an artist. I wish over and over again as I live my daiiy life at home and as I wander through the world, that I had been given a few more talents. There is so much all about you that you would like to paint well enough so that other people could see it and enjoy it too. All I can do is to enjoy it myseif and talk about it afterward, It is pleasant to be with congenial friends. I was sorry to say goodby this morning and wend my way, this time alone, down to Newport, R. I, to see my cousins, Mr, and Mrs. Henry Parish. Early tomorrow morning I will leave them to start on another, but very beautiful, drive home. A short time ago, one of the envoys from a foreign country told me that while he thought Newport was very beautiful and while he was interested in going there because he had heard so much about it in Europe, he still did not wish to spend his summer there. The life was too much like the life he lived in winter. I feel a little the same way and, for many reasons, think perhaps it is just as well I do not pine to spend long periods of time in this gay summer capital,

Walter O'Keefe —

TT Indianapolis home of Benjamin Harrison, our 23d President, is being preserved as a memorial of life in the Eighties. Imagine the Roosevelt Hyde Park home in the year 2000. Those future tourists will probably notice a very threadbare carpet in the President's study and I + hope the guide explains that it was worn out by the brain trusters when they paced the floor nights trying to figure out how to spend all those billions. . If two pictures are found with their faces turned to the wall thoy’li probably be the autographed photos of Alfred Smith and Governor Lehman. Of course, one room ought to be given over to mementoes of the President's wife; but maybe you couldn't get all those cancelled railroad and plane tickets Into one room. What's more, the tourist of the year 2000, will have just is much chance of finding Mrs. Roosevelt at home as anyone wovld today. A

!

polis Times

Second Section

A.F.of L. and C. IL O. Clash in

MONDAY, JULY 26, 1937

(Fifth of a Series)

By RODNEY DUTCHER

NEA Staff Writer

VW ASHINGTON, July 26.—There is a great battle between labor and capital—along traditional but broadening lines—but there is also a great fight for power be-

tween labor and labor.

For a year and a half John L. Lewis and other aggressive chiefs of the C. I. O. have contested with William Green and conservative craft union heads in the A. F. of L. for supremacy in the labor movement. Today Mr. Lewis

claims a larger membership than Mr. Green's.

But the

C. I. 0.-A. F. of L. fight becomes hotter week by week. The C. I. 0. must contend sometimes with another labor movement, varying in strength from place to place,

in the form of workers who don’t want to join unions, “Scabs,” they're called by strikers. “Loyal workers,” say employers. And the C. I. O. has still another fight on its hands with labor —those green, undisciplined workers in its ranks who have been pulling unauthorized strikes, especially in the auto industry. Mr. Lewis is perhaps the most forceful and certainly one of the shrewdest labor leaders of today. He is Labor Leader No. 1 now because he used NRA and Section 7-A to build his United Mine Workers into the strongest A. F. of L. union, because he knows how to make strategic alliances with other labor leaders and politicians, because he has been considerably aided by the New Deal and Mr. Roosevelt's - desire for a strong labor movement, and because long years of experience have taught him the tricks of the game as well as the science of organizing large masses of workers.

= = ” HETHER this shaggy-browed, leonine man has Presidential

ambitions is pure guesswork. Remarks he has made privately indi-

| cate he is shrewd enough to know

| that his chances there are nil. But

| | | | {

|

{ |

there are no limits to his ambition to organize labor and exert power. Mr. Green brightly predicted with the birth of NRA that the A. F. of L. would soon have 25,000,000 members. Mr. Lewis is trying to make that dream come true—for his own movement.

Mr. Lewis had always been known as a Republican conservative. He rose in the miners’ union by hardtactics—although he has achieved charm, education, and some culture in the art of humor ous conversation. Early in 1933 only

| 25 per cent of American coal was

| | { | |

|

dug under contract. Today nearly all of it is dug by union men and the U. M. W.,, which had but 300,000 members—many not paying dues—has over 500.000 members

and a war chest of at least $2,000,000. = ” » HE Wagner act found Mr. Lewis, Sidney Hillman, and a few other leaders prepared to wade into organizing the mass production industries while the A. F. of L. still talked about it.

Steel, automobile, rubber, and other unorganized industries, with their semiskilled and unskilled workers as well as the skilled, were C. I. O's original chosen field. Today the C. I. O. claims 3,000,000 members and disputes a similar A. F. of L. claim by saying the latter includes many unions which have since come under the C. I. O. banner. The A. F. of L. turned distinctly conservative under Mr. Gompers after exposure of the McNamara dynamiters and indictment of many officials and members of A. F. of L. unions in 1910. Member=ship dropped from the federation's previous high of about 4,000,000 to half as many. A. F. of L. unions always have been involved in jurisdictional disputes which turned employers against them, and Mr. Green's biggest job has been to deal with disputes between factions and rival unions. There was no organization of mass-production industries because that was expensive, difficult, and likely to run into jurisdictional fights. o ” o \ODAY some A. F. of L. unions are quitting to join C. I. O. others are being kicked out, some are helping employers beat C. I. O. unions, some are helping C. I. O. unions win strikes, and some are rising up from the ashes of company unions with the same officers and the blessing of employers. Most international unions stand pat. The picture is mixed, but to date C. I. O. has been on the march, winning battles up to the recent strike against four independent steel companies. It claims 26 affiliated national and international unions, hundreds of local affiliates and majorities both

Magazine Writer Observes

By JAMES STEVENS

In The American Mercury

TIQUETTE ranks close to murder and kidnaping as a subject of hot news in the newspapers. One notable example was the case of Dolly Gann; another the famous affair of the green pajamas in which Huey Long first achieved all front pages. Similarly, the Hon. Paul Vories McNutt has at long last won nation-wide renown, in an affair of etiquette. As the new High Commissioner to the Philippine Commonwealth, he recentiv issued a ukase on precedence in public toasts and thus assured himself of front-page fame. By this time even the political reporters in Washington have heard about the Indiana dictator. This same McNutt has been a figure of real political significance for years, as was Huey before he discovered the publicity value of green pajamas. It was news of some sort when McNutt’'s gubernatorial candidate ran ahead of Dr. Roosevelt in '36 by a large number of votes. Again, it was news of a kind when such potent Democratic bosses from the South as James V. Allred and John C. Ehringhaus declared for McNutt as the Presidential candidate of the party in 1940. News, but

Side Glances

SPREE A 0 EN nS i

hY

not such news as murder and etiquette provide. Not news which bugs the eye of the Americano as he reads, and yanks from him his most soulful tribute: “Boy!”

” = ” UT now McNutt of Indiana has done better by himself. Despite the heavy cable tolls from

Manila, the American people have been given all the details of the High Commissioner's foray into etiquette. They are demanding to know more about this man. The American Mercury, ever respon=sive to the soul-calls of the masses, herewith gives them the Magnificent McNutt, with both barrels. He is indeed magnificent. . . . For some biological reason, no other tribe—excepting the clergy and the literary—so runs to baldness, belly, and bottom when age comes on as does ghe political. But today, in his 46th Year, Paul Vories McNutt could easily hold his own in Hollywood. A pine in height, build, and posture, his kingly. frame is crowned with a waving mane of silver hair. A classic forehead descends to coal-black brows and eyes of gunsmoke gray. Nature nearly excelled Phidias in the McNutt nose, mouth, and chin. Only at the jaw

By Clark

"Oh, don't pay any attention to Bill. He doesn't like my friends, and | don't like his."

x

Titanic Struggle

ARAN SAN ARR

Governor Murphy

A

ss a

SARA

Charles P. Howara

as to workers and contracts in the automobile and steel industries. It is now waging a quiet but energetic attempt to organize the textile industry. The election result stiffened C. I. O. ranks. Mr. Roosevelt's strong campaign talk about collective bargaining was a factor and postelection speed in the steel and automobile organizing campaigns astonished Mr. Lewis himself.

= = ” I= Lewis-Hillman-Dubinsky-Howard group's bid for power moved historically into the

sphere of politics last Summer 4

M'Nutt Bids for Fame With Etiquette,

lines do the features of the hero display political meat. There, pendulous flesh (perhaps an effect of campaign indulgence in grits and hog gravy) somewhat mars the symmetry of a head that may be destined for postage-stamp immortality. ” ” » ET McNutt the Magnificent is a product of plain Hoosier earth, and so fits the need of democratic legend. His father was an appellate judge, but the country town of Franklin, Ind, was his birthplace, and he grew among barefoot boys. No stories of moment have come out of his youth. Then, it seems, he was only handsome.

Concurrently rose McNutt’s World War career. Wonderfully made for military regalia, incomparably voiced for patriotic oratory, Soldier McNutt was kept at home to inflame the recruits of the Wilson crusade. At Camp Stanley, Leon Springs, Tex, he fairly bounced from a captaincy in the Field Artillery to brigade command and finally returned to Bloomington with sufficient, if bloodless, glory. . . .

McNutt, physically magnificent, born to rank as he was with hair, parades even when he is sitting down. He can, and often does, speak with the pompous dullness of a general. Somewhere in him there is our old standby, the inferiority complex. McNutt bears a defense panoply. Yet he achieved, and still holds, as much power in Indiana as Huey Long ever held in Louisiana. Within his State he fought and whipped Farley at every turn, yet he maintained a surface peace with Mr. Roosevelt, Hoosier Hitler or not, his administrative record is matchless among contemporary State executives. . ..

E is adored by the schoolmarms of a thousand institutes and he is revered in as many posts of Legionnaires. For nine years, McNutt has been preparing a drive for the Presidency. If his past performances as a strategist, a master of surprise attack, an organizer and dictator mean anything at all, Paul Vories McNutt of Indiana will either lead or break the Democratic Party in 1040, . . . With an ocean separating him from the increasing misadventures of the Administration, he may remain unsinged by such hell as that which rages about Frank Murphy and menaces George Earle. When the fateful year approaches, or when the party factions begin to yell for a leader who may unite them, then McNutt will come home and place himself in the spotlight. Meanwhile, now that he has learned the trick, he may be depended upon to make

| news. He will be head man or noth-

ing in Manila. In any event, he will remain magnificent until the earth receives him, and even then the grass will

Suites stand at attention about his grave,

Entered as at Postoffice,

The Fight for Power in Washington

2

Sidney Hillman

when it organized Labor Nonpartisan League, with President George Berry of the pressmen's union at its head, to support Mr. Roosevelt and certain friendly Democratic candidates in industrial states.

Loud moans and groans have been directed at labor’s entry into politics, but it's all part of labor's fight for bargaining power and the C. I. O. fight for power over labor, In the General Motors strike, at a tight spot, Mr. Lewis called publicly on Mr. Roosevelt for help and recalled the President's obligation to him as well as the fact that “economic royalists” were a mutual enemy. Mr. Roosevelt didn't like it, but he did everything he could in the automobile and steel negotiations to carry out the secret New Deal slogan of that period—"“We can’t let John lose.” That this was more than a mere political deal will be shown in a later article. Mr, Lewis staked his future when he assumed paternity of the General Motors strike as a matter of practical necessity. The sit-down strike was a new labor technique, presumably illegal, which was successful probably only because Governor Murphy, elected with labor support, and Roosevelt did all they could to save the Lewis shirt.

ISIBLE evidence of a shift in ,the balance of power, against a long background of “strikeBreaking” by state and Federal governments, appeared at Flint when, after a warrant had been issued to drive out sit-down strik=ers at the cost of whatever bloodshed might be necessary, Governor Murphy with Mr. Roosevelt's secret support ordered State troops in to prevent violence on either side and promised “no riots and no trouble.” Governor Murphy promised no eviction by troops, the strikers promised to end the sit-down, and the corporation promised not to resume operation during negotia= tions, Legal violence was G. M.'s only chance to beat the sit-down strike, but Government refused to take a firm “law and order” stand until G. M. agreed to recognize certain labor rights. The result was that the union won recognition for its members and exclusive bargaining rights for six months, with assurance of an agreement thereafter. Meanwhile the rise of Mr. Lewis and his unions to power has not been achieved without arousing bitter antagonism in many quarters and among various groups.

NEXT-—Labor, capital, the public—and Mr. Roosevelt.

600-Year-Old

Murder

‘Discovered’ in Sweden

By Science Service TOCKHOLM, July dre wol out, that’s can saye.” A murder mystery written in the 14th Century closes with this sententious, modern-sounding moral.

The writer was Chaucer, first great poet of England. . About the time Chaucer writing of his fictional murder, a real murder was happening in another land, Sweden, on a lonely moor near the city of Goteborg. And in spite of the poet's dictum, this “mordre” has not come out until the present day. «In the wet mossy soil of the moor, protected against decay by the acidity of the water, the corpse of a man was found. The clothing was in better state of preservation than the body, so that actual specimens now show what the well-dressed Swedish gentleman wore, 600 years ago. $

al that I

”n s s HERE is no doubt that the man was murdered. A gaping dagger wound proves that. Afterward

the criminals must have felt fear, if not remorse. Before they threw the corpse into the moor to hide it, they drove a wooden stake through the body. This was always done in the Middle Ages with persons denied the privilege of Christian burial, to prevent the spirit from walking. The garments were all in pieces, for while the acid water had preserved the weol, it'had permitted the linen sewing thread to decay. But careful tailoring reassembled the parts into a poncho-like overcloak with a V-shaped opening for the head, a principal garment like a tunic with close-fitting waist and

a loose knee-length skirt, a pair of woolen hose, and a caped cowl with a long streamer trailing back of its

point.

The leather of shoes and weapon-

26.—“Mor-

was

»

sheath had decayed until it was soft as butter, and the blade of the dagger the man carried had rusted completely away. The grisly find was dated from an Italian painting. A portrait of the poet Petrarch, whom Chaucer admired and imitated, shows him wearing a streamered cowl of the

| same pattern.

Heard in Congress—

Senator Robinson (D. Ark.)-—If I did not make it clear, it is due to that defect in my power of expression which is so much in contrast with the splendid abilities and notable verbosity of my good friend the Senator from Illinois. (Laughter.) Senator Lewis (D. Ill)—Mr. President, while I appreciate the suggestion as to the circumlocutory ratiocination which I sometimes indulge, I still would like to have my able and eminent friend from Arkansas explain why the amendment is necessary at all for any purpose then, if it is already in the power of the President to use his discretion as to the amount of local contribution to be required. Senator Robinson—I can give the

Senator from Illinois the explanation; but great God! I respectfully decline to give him understanding. (Laughter.) Senator Lewis—One cannot confer that which he does not possess. (Laughter.)

Senator Minton (D. Ind.)—If anybody has set up a despotism in this country it is the b5-to-4 decisions that prevail in the Supreme Court, . . . What are the rights of American citizens? until Roberts makes up his mind? (Laugh ter).

Second-Class Matter Indianapolis, Ind.

Who knows

PAGE 13

Our Town

By Anton Scherrer

Watermelon Proves Life Saver for Charlatan Houdini of Early Days; Writer One of Those Who Marveled.

OW that I know more about it, I'm pretty, sure that the old man, who scared the life out of us South Side kids, got his idea straight from Dr. Tanner. Dr. Henry S. Tanner was a Minneapolis physician, obsessed with the idea that he could live 40 days and nights without food. To prove it, he went to New York and in no time at all found himself on the front page of all the papers in the

country, including, of course, those in Indianapolis. For some reason—why?—oh, why anygthing—the ladies were his most ardent admirers. They brought him flowers, sang for him, played the organ, and as the 40th day drew near, even tried to kiss him. Indeed, they brought him everything except things to eat. They made up for it, though, because when the last day rolled around, they piled his room full of food, including cases of champagne and barrels of oysters. Nobody, however, thought of bringing him a watermelon. It was a serious oversight on the part of the ladies, because the way things worked out, Dr. Tanner had it all fixed to end his fast by eating a watermelon,

Defies Doctors’ Orders

Physicians warned him it was the worst thing he could do, but Dr. Tanner, knowing something about the limitations of doctors himself, didn't pay any at= tention to them. He ate the watermelon, and didn't appear any the worse for it. Indeed, he went even farther, and staged a parade with himself in an open carriage. In his right hand he held a red slice of melon. On the seat beside the driver was a whole melon, just in case he’d run short. When it was all over, Dr. Tanner said: body feels like a hive of bees.” Well, sometime after Dr. Tanner showed the way, an old man on the South Side decided to go him one better. He allowed himself to be buried in a box, if you please, which was something Dr. Tanner had never thought of. To be real honest, it wasn’t exactly a burial, because after the box was lowered into the ground and the man got into it, that’s as far as he went. Which, of course, was the sensible thing to do, because had he carried it any farther, there wouldn't have been any way of watching him.

He Improves With Time

The first three days were terrible, I remember, The man grew thinner and thinner, and had us kids worried like everything. After the fourth day, how ever, he began perking up, and at the end of two weeks, he actually looked better than when he started. At the end of three weeks, the thing began to look phoney. It was, too, because right after that, some smart aleck discovered a quarter-inch gas pipe leading to the box and spoiled everything. Some people said it was soup, and some thought it was oatmeal-water he got. I never did find out, and neither did anybody else, because right after everybody got wise the man left town and was never seen again. That wasn't all, though, because almost immediate= ly after the man skipped town, they found not only the gas pipe, but the whole bottom of his box full of watermelon rinds.

A Woman's View By Mrs. Walter Ferguson

Leading a Dog's Life Might Not Be Bad Nowadays, Feminist Points Out,

HEN Senator Vest delivered his famous eulogy on the dog he started a cult which has grown to the proportions of a religion, and unwittingly gave the birth-controllers their biggest boost. Today the dog is your best bet if you want to cause palpitations among the sentimentalists and get yourself decorated as a philosopher and humanitarian. Even professional mothers are not in the running, and as for babies— they're nothing but a social problem now. Twenty-five years ago the dog was a domestic pet; today he is a hallowed creature, canonized by the devotion of millions of men and women, and it is as much as your life is worth to call attention to his shortcomings, if any. A dog poisoner is spoken of as the lowest form of life that crawls upon the earth. Women love little dogs because they never grow up, so to speak. Whereas babies have a disconcerting habit of turning into individuals with minds of their own, the longer a dog is taken care of and petted and made over, the more helpless and dependent he grows, and when his short life is ended there is always another with the same wistful, beguiling, pleading ways. Men love dogs because they ask nothing in return for their worship. The canine business has become a great and thrive ing industry in the past few years, and although the money and affection we spend on dogs would go far toward benefiting neglected children you dare not mention the fact unless you want to be accused of possessing low instincts and latent criminal tendencies. “Leading a dog’s life” is & phrase which has taken on entirely new meaning.

New Books Today

Public Library Presents—

RZ== discoveries in radioactivity are given an unusually interesting background by connecting them with the quests of the ancient alchemists in Dorothy Fisk’s MODERN ALCHEMY (Appleton-Cen= tury). Great names of the past are brought to life in this story of the contributions of different countries to the search for the marvelous secret of transmutation of the elements. Significant achievements of Ruthere ford and the Curies are simply told, and actual mode ern transmutations of nitrogen into oxygen, hydrogen into helium, silver into cadium, etc., are made easier to understand by clear diagrams and entertaining analogies. The author prophesies the development of artificial radioactive elements which may become safef in their healing effects and more plentiful than radium, tJ = =

NYONE who enjoys informal essays will be ine terested ' in Hilaire Belloc’s SELECTED ESe SAYS (Lippincott), for among them he can find one to fit any of his varying moods. Those who are familiar with this Englishman's books of history, treatises on religion and other literary works will like the author's comments and discussions on subjects that have aroused his thoughts when in a philosophi« cal mood. If anyone has been made to feel decidedly insignificant or entirely unnecessary merely by the superior look from the hotel doorman, that one will appreciate the essay “Servants of the Rich.” Bellos assures us that such are doomed to eternal damnae tion! For those who are in a more serious mood, “On Inns” and “The Sonnets of Milton” are carefully worked and typical of the author's mastery of words.

$

Mr. Scherrer

“My whole