Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 3 June 1938 — Page 17
Vagabond
From Indiana == Ernie Pyle
A Mexican Casey Jones Gives Ernie A Hair-Raising Ride and Probably Kills a Cow While He's Doing It.
Editor's Note—Ernie Pyle, after three years of traveling, is taking a vacation. Hence we are taking this opportunity to reprint some of his readers’ favorite columns, as indicated in their letters to him and to the editor.
PUEBLA, Mexico, June 3.—The train from Oaxaca back to Puebla runs only three times a week. It’s an all-night trip, and you have to make Pullman reservations days ahead. I didn’t know that, so when I went to get tickets I found the Americans had bought up all the berths, and there was no place for us poor Mexicans to sleep except in the day coach, sitting up. But it happened that I had struck up an acquaintance with the fireman—one Luis Arceniega, who was in the U. S. Navy during the war and spoke English—so Luis said, “Come on up and ride on the locomotive with us.” So up I went—for a ride on a locomotive, at night, in a strange land, on narrow-gauge tracks, through terrifying mountains. I sat on the fireman’s seat, on the left-hand side of the cab. Three little bulbs dimly lighted the cab. I could see the engineer across the top of the curved boiler. The fireman, when he wasn’t turning valves, stood behind me and talked. It was an oil-burner, so the fireman didn’t have to shovel. It was rough riding. The locomotive bounced up and down, and made lunges to the side, so that I had to hold onto the window sill. I couldn't see how the galloping locomotive could possibly stay on the tiny little track. The noise was terrific. Everything seemed to shake. The oil burner made a heavy fluttering sound that hurt your ear drums. Levers and rods rattled and banged. Oaxaca lies in a wide valley, climb over the edge of this saucer. As we neared the crest of the ridge, an hour out of Oaxaca, we went slower and slower, we labored and huffed. Finally you could have walked much faster than we were going. I asked the fireman if we would make it. He said he thought so. I asked if they ever failed to make it. Sometimes, he said. “What do you do then?” I asked. “Oh, just back up and take another shot at it,” he said. . But we did make it—crossed the peak on the very last puff left in the locomotive, it seemed to me— and then plunged downward among the mountains. For three hours we rolled precipitously downhill, around continuous sharp curves, following a river gorge. For three hours the engineer never opened his throttle, except to start the train after a station stop. The train rolls faster than we can take the curves. The engineer's job reverses itself. Instead of keeping the train going, he has to slow it down. The engineer’s name was Juan Ortega. I have never seen anyone more attentive, more serious. At first I was nervous when we went rocking into those turns, but after a while I was as calm as the engineer.
Ernie Saves His Head
After 10 we saw little sign of life along the tracks. Villages were pitch dark. I saw a dog or two cross the tracks, and I think we killed a cow. We came round a bend. The track ran on a ledge, along the mountainside. The cow was standing in the little path between tracks and mountain wall. There was just room—if she had stood still.
But just as the front of the engine passed her, I saw her start to turn around. Then she disappeared beneath the cab window. For once in my life I had sense. I wanted to lean out and look back. If I had. my head would still be hanging on the jagged wall of the cliff. So I saved my head, but I don’t know what happened to the cow. The fireman and I kept smoking cigarets. The engineer didn’t smoke. There was a quart bottle of coffee on top of the boiler. About midnight we all had a couple of swigs, and it tasted good. I began to get sleepy. At a place called Tomellin, at 1 o'clock in the morning, we stopped for water. I gave the fireman some extra cigarets, climbed down out of the cab, said “buenos noches” and went back to the day coach, bent on sleep.
My Diary
By Mrs. Eleanor Roosevelt
First Lady Impressed by Amount Of Land Still Unoccupied Today.
HYDE PARK, N. Y. Thursday—The Democratic Women's Division dinner in Utica last night was very successful, in spite of the fact that Mrs. Caroline O'Day, vice chairman of the Democratic State Committee, was not able to be present because of illness and Mrs. Lehman, wife of the Governor, was laid up with a sore throat and cold and could not be there either. Fifteen hundred women from every county in the state were present. Postmaster General Farley, Lieutenant Governor Bray, Mayor Corrou, of Utica, Mr. Nathan Straus, Federal Housing Administrator, and Mrs. E. P. Mulrooney, Commissioner of Corrections in the State of New York, were all there. At different times during the day session they had addressed the women on their particular subjects. In addition, there was a most interesting exhibit on social security with Mrs. Anna Rosenberg, regional director; and Mrs. Mabel Fickel, information specialist from Washington, to explain it. Mrs. Ellen Woodward, assistant director of WPA from Washington and Mrs. Izetta Jewell Miller, regional director for WPA business and professional projects, were also present. Mrs. Scheider and I drove back at 7:30 this morning and the country was too beautiful. We found a route uncrowded with traffic and drove through some of the most lovely, rolling farm scenery. So much land in this country is still unoccupied that I am constantly impressed with our wastefulness, both in the care of our woods and in the care of our land.
Stop at Friends’ Tearoom
We will have to learn some of the tricks of the thickly populated European countries. In the meantime, there are still spots, even in this state, where one can imagine for a brief moment that one is treading on undiscovered ground. On the way down I stopped on Route 9G at “the Stone Jug,” the old house done over as a tearoom by Mrs, Howland Davis and Mrs. Johnston Redmond. It is most attractive and was built in the 1700s. I have rarely seen finer hand-hewn timbers and there is an old fireplace which will give warmth and cheer on cold days. Then we stopped at the Rhineback exchange to buy homemade bread and fresh cakes and finally we went back to the Hyde Park cottage, which we are leaving in a few minutes for 24 hours in New
York City.
Bob Burns Says—
VAN BUREN, Ark., June 3.—I don’t believe that anything has aided world progress more than that urge that strong men get to go places and do things. The other day my Uncle Unie confessed to Aunt Boo that for years he had been savin’ his money to take a trip to Mt. Vernon and he says, “At last, I've got it and I can satisfy my“ life-long desire.” Aunt Boo says, “Well, the weather's pretty bad— why can't we get some postcards of Mt. Vernon and send 'em to our friends?” Uncle Unie scoffed at the idea. He says, “Men don’t travel that distance for such a silly thing as sending post cards!” and she says, “Well why do vou want to go to Mt. Vernon?” Uncle Unie says, “Well, for one thing I want'a scratch my name on George Washington's tomb.” .
Mr. Pyle
The train has to
|
, Goering gave
The Indianapolis
imes
Second Section
Famed Couple Out
By Milton Bronner NEA: Service Staff Correspondent LONDON, June 38.—The privacy and obscurity which the former King Edward VIII of England once
said he craved, have come
to him and to his Ameri-can-born Duchess as they celebrate, today, the first anniversary of their historic marriage. The Duke and Duchess of Windsor seldom make the headlines on the first pages of the press today. Their every move is no longer chronicled. Photographers do not fight to make snapshots of them. And, as for Great Britain, whose idol the Duke once was, it almost seems to have forgotten his very existence. The unemployment problem, the growing popularity of King George VI, the tense European situation, high income taxes, and an enormous rearmament problem have made the Windsors “small beer.” When they take up a new residence, the not very momentous fact is printed in a small paragraph somewhere on the inside pages of the papers. And that is that. It is all very different from the hullabaloo in the early months of their married life. Crowds gathered when they were married in France. There was the mob of
enthusiastic Austrians when they .
chose Baron Eugene Rothschild’s Enzesfeld chateau for their honeymoon. Then came a short trip to Venice, where the ducal gondola was followed around the historic canals by a regular fleet of gondolas filled with sight-seers. ” » ” Back once more in Austria, they had a period of comparative quiet. Then again came the headlines. For it was announced the Duke of Windsor, intensely interested in housing questions, was going to make a visit of inquiry to Germany. The Nazis promptly made out of him one of the biggest propaganda tools they had had for a long time. They showed him what they wanted him to see in Berlin, Essen, Dresden, Leipzig, Dusseldorf, Bochum, Stuttgart, Munich and Nuremberg. They showed him part of the Krupps works in Essen, but not too much. They took him down a coal mine and let him get his face sooty. Gen. the Duke and Duchess tea. Hitler at Berchtesgaden gave him a half hour of, private talk. Incidentally, the Duke saw a few housing settle ments. Now it was announced that, still further studying the housing question, the Duke and Duchess would come to the United States in November, 1937, for a stay of two or three months. It was announced President Roosevelt would entertain the Windsors at the White House. Wealthy socialites all over the country began laying plans to capture the Windsors as their own guests. » » » The Windsors’ friend, Charles Bedaux, came to America to make the arrangements for the trip. Then things broke wide open. A labor leader started it by criticizing the visit, especially as it was being arranged by Bedaux, director of a Speeding up system which organized labor hates. And the finish came when it was announced the Windsors
would sail on the German ship Bremen on Nov. 6, instead of the French liner Normandie. A lively storm of criticism blew
EH iw
FRIDAY, JUNE 3, 1938
The Windsors' First Anniversary
of Limelight Year After Marriage
Just a year ago newspaper readers throughout the world eagerly
viewed the above picture and others taken immediately after the historic wedding of the Duke of Windsor and the former Mrs. Ernest Crowds gathered when they were married
Simpson of Baltimore, Md.
in France and there was a mob of enthusiastic Austrians when they chose Baron Eugene Rothschild’s chateau for their honeymoon.
This rented chateau in Versa
the Duke and Duchess of Windso
Cap d’Antibes in the French Riviera, for the better part of the next three
up. Up to the last minute it was not known whether the Windsors would stick to the program or abandon it. Finally, on the very day before they were due to sail, they canceled their reservations and decided to remain in France. Not since he had to make his grave decision to abdicate the throne, had he been so hurt as
See This Page Tomorrow for "Supreme Court Decisions, 1937-38."
Side Glances—By Clark
SN
illes until recently was the home of
Now they are living in a villa at where they are planning to stay years.
by this American chapter in his life. And a few days later, he winced under another wound. British ex-soldiers in Paris were keen to have him attend the Armistice Day services in St. George's Church. A remark ate tributed to the Canon of the diocese caused him to remain away. Until recently he has quietly lived in a rented house in Versailles. Now he and the Duchess have moved into a villa at Cap d’Antibes in the French Riviera, where they plan to live for the ' better part of the next three years.
Jasper—By Frank
But today the privacy and obscurity for which the former King once said he craved have come to him and his wife. It was little more than a routine assignment for the cameraman who recently took this photo showing the mow comparatively obscure Duke and Duchess passing through a Paris railroad station on their return from a brief holiday. The couple today is living in the French Riviera.
: o
Not so long ago the Duke of Windsor was the idol of all Great Britain. This photo shows some of the many Britishers who exposed themselves to a thorough drenching as they lined the road from Buckingham Palace to the House of Lords for a brief glimpse of Edward, then King, 2s he rode in the royal car at the left. The occasion was the opening of the First Parliament of his brief reign. But today England has almost forgotten his existence.. The unemployment problem, the growing popularity of King George VI, the tense European situation and an enormous rearmament problem have made the Windsors “small beer.”
TEST YOUR
kes me cus
any place unless he just has to entertain a : . - this a Sl
1
’
r being a fresh air fiend—but now it's
KNOWLEDGE
1--What is a micrometer? 2—With what ball club does Lefty Gomez play? 3—Of what country is Kabul the capital? 4—Does Soviet Russia have the same calendar as the United States? 5—What is chilblains? 6—What is the shortest verse in the Bible? 7-—For what government agency do the initials USHA stand? 8—What is ornithology?
” ” ” Answers
1—In instrument for measuring small angles or dimensions. 2—The New York Yankees, 3-—Afghanistan, 4-—Yes, 5—A mild form of frostbite. 6—"Jesus ‘wept,” John 11:35. 7—United States Housing Authority. 8—The science of bird study.
ASK THE TIMES
Inclose a 3.cent stamp for reply when adc
A a N -
a RRR,
A
PAGE 17
Our: Town
By Anton Scherrer
It's a Fact That One Reading of Prof. Samuel Hoshour's Book Left The Reader Gasping for Breath.
SOME people around here, Frank Wood among them, still remember Prof. Samuel K. Hoshour, the author of the “Altisonant Letters.” The book is a collector's item now, A hundred years ago, however, it was more than a book—it was an influence which affected not only the education of Hoosiers, but their literary style as well. Prof. Hoshour was a native of Pennsylvania who came to Indiana circa 1836, located at Centerville, and made his living by preaching and teaching school. The following year he started writing the ‘Letters to Squire Pedant, in the East, by Lorenzo Altisonant, an Emigrant to the West,” a collection of 14 lurid chapters which made use of every goldtooth word in the dictionary, One reading of the book left the reader gasping for breath: a rereading left him as limp as a lotus eater. Just to give you an idea to what lengths Prof. Hoshour went to achieve his purpose, let me give you a sample. Letter 1 begins: “Squire Pedant: Dear Sir—At my decession from you, your final alloquy and concinnous deport laid me under a reasonable obstriction to impart to you a pantography of the occidental domain upon which I had placed my ophthalmic organs I now merge my plumous implement of chirography into the astramental fluid vo exonerate myself of that obstriction.” After that, Mr. Altisonant gets even better, until finally he reaches Letter 13, in the course of which he tells how he proposed marriage to Sophronia Amenity. Letter 14, the end of the series (thank goodness), contains Miss Amenity’s reply: “I refer it to your arbitrament to designate the day of brid ality; percase, the proxine plenilune would be the most idoneous period for the hymeneal conjugation, And may the supermundane Powers invest the occa« sion with their irrevocable benisen! Yours in eviternal affiance.” This proving again, if further proof is neccssery, that like attracts like.
Excellent for Spelling Lessons
Strangely enough, Prof. Hoshour's literary effort started as a joke, and ended as a text book. At any rate, it wasn't long after the letters were published that Prof. Hoshour discovered that his book was just the thing to teach the kids the trick of spelling. Later he got around to the idea of using his book as an example of pompous writing, Apparently, Prof. Hoshour knew what he was doing, because when it came time for Lew Wallace to write his autobiography, the author of “Ben Hur” surprised everybody by acknowl edging his debt to Mr. Altisonant (pp. 56-8), Prof. Hoshour came to Indianapolis in 1858, and ended up as president of Butler. That's what Frank Wood was telling me about the other day. Mr, Wood said that he and his gang got up into a tree on Pennsylvania St. where the K. of P. Building now stands and, just for fun, dropped something on the first man that came along. It happened to be Prof. Hos« hour and busted not only the plug hat he was wears ing, but his spectacles besides. Prof. Hoshour got awful mad, said Mr. Wood, but he said everything he had to say in words of one syllable,
Mr. Scherrer
Jane Jordan—
Thinks Man May Be Using His Debts As Excuse for Delaying Marriage.
Des JANE JORDAN--I have been in love with a man for some time. He has proposed, but owing to financial difficulties, marriage can't be realized until these obligations are paid, as he says it isn't fair to me. He takes me out in great style when he can afford it but seldom bothers to call me. He says he doesn’t mind if I have other dates and he isn’t jealous. If he cares for me as he says he does why can’t he spend more time with me in my house without any expense to him? We have both been married. His marriage was very unhappy while mine was extremely happy. We get along fine when we are together but when he is gone he seems to forget me. Do you think he is in love or don't you? IRENE,
» » ” Answer—Apparently the man: is temperamentally unsuited to you. He is restless and wants to be on the go all the time. He likes your society only when he wishes to be diverted, but has no desire to sit at home and talk. I imagine that he spends many of his evenings with men whom he may find more companionable than women. Many men do not find women particularly companionable, although they cannot do without them, and they get extremely worn
out with the feminine viewpoint. I would hesitate to say that the man is not in love with you for I do not know. He may care as nmiuch for you as he is capable of caring. I only know that he does not love you the way you wish to be loved. You are not as important to him as you long to be. You want a husband who will enter into your life and live it with you, who understands your feelings and shows you the little attentions which you crave. You will not be happy if he has a set of interests which you do not share, Does this man impress you as one who will find the same satisfaction in sharing that you feel? Mo, he does not, and that is why you are unhappy about the whole affair, Since the man does not care if you have other dates, why don’t you do so? If only you wouldn't ex« pect so much of him you might have a very pleasant time when he takes you out and, for all you know, meet someone closer to your heart's desire. Take him casually, as he takes you, but do not regard him as a permanent fixture in your life unless his interest in you increases. While he is right in waiting until his financial obligations are met before he is married, the delay doesn't irk him at all. In fact it looks as if he regarded it as a suitable excuse for not settling down Just yet, JANE JORDAN,
.
Put your problems in a letter to Jane Jordan, whe
will answer your questions in this column daily,
New Books Today
Public Library Presents—
N his introductory remarks, Charles Allen Smart describes himself as a “fairly typical, urban ine tellectual and malcontent of the Twenties,” who, “after printing, publishing, literary hack-work, novel writing, wandering, loafing and teaching, went to live on a farm, and got married.” R. F. D. (Norton) is his report on three years of life on an Ohio farm. He brings to this life and to the writing of this book a happy combination of realism and sentiment. Not a diletante, and determined to farm competently and with as much profit as possible under an economic system inimical to the farmer, he yet oan savor freshly the beauty ; can respond to the rhythm of
comment on farm life, its ages. It is filled with ine