Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 13 February 1948 — Page 19
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YW 18 THE time for all good men to come to te ald of thelr country.” :
Clerks, under whose noses the citizenry is ex-
to band together for mutual benefit, were
thetically unconcerned. «Sure, people pound the machines but. we don't pdy any attention what they write, do we, Mabel?” said a clerk. Mabel wasn’t much help, either. No, “we” don’t pay any attention, Mabel mumbled. She did mention what a nuisance it was to change paper and untangle the jammed keys. I learned the worst offenders in this- respect were high school students. My concern, however, was not the changing of paper or untangling' keys.
Now Is the Time for All—
TWO variations of the No. 1 line on the hunt-and-peck parade worried me. “Now is the time for
FREE PROSEplay counters reveals tion. (We think).
Pigs and Culture
CHAPEL HILL, N. C., Feb. 13—For as long as 1 can remember, Chapel Hill has been a swarming anthill of artists of the soul, paintbrush and typewriter, I have never been quite able to determine what brings ‘em here, and what keeps em here, hut here they are and here they stay. You can’t go down to the drug store without
running over two stray playwrights, a flyblown philosopher and a rumpsprung novelist or so. Poets festoon themselves around the lamp posts, like mistletoe, and devotees of the dance spirituelle are as common as hogs. There is some sort of atmosphere which causes the soul to expand, and also it is not necessary to shave more than twice a week. ® . It can’t be the climate that lures em here because it is hotter than St. Louis in the summertime, and it rains horizontally in the winter. Right now the only adult bulldozer in the state is mired down in a six-inch snow, in front of my hotel. The spring is lovely and the fall is finer, but it isn't any finer than the rest of Caroliner in the mawnin’. Kicking and purple debauch, which often mark the cultural hideaway, Chapel Hill has a reputation for being “ljberal,” but its people conform publicly to. the strict morality of the small southern town. Free love is frowned on. The preachers talk hellfire-and-brimstone from the pulpits, and tongues still buzz over the isolated instances when a sedate professor has prickied out with romantic hives and dashed off with somebody else's lady. vi
Artists Avoid University
THERE is the usual complement of trees and sky and muddy footpaths, since Chapel Hill has .always managed to forego the sidewalk In the interests of picturesqueness. The filling stations are built in colonial style, and so is the movie theater, There is the university of course, but the clustered artists operate pretty independently of it, once they get themselves firmly entrenched. The tight little colony of writers ig bellwethered by Paul Gréen, a native dramatist who once won himself a Pulitzer prize and who has long suckled on the richness of Hollywood in order to return here to write experimental plays.
pewriter punching on disa mass of vital informa-
h, It's Easy
WASHINGTON, Feb. 13—Our Becretary of Agriculture wonders whether E. T. Maynard, the bear of LaSalle Street, used a crystal ball to tlean up $400,000 or so in four days on the collapsing grain. market. While -he pondered aloud before the Senate Agricultural Committee, I couldn't help recalling
that there used to be another big market operalor, name of Othman, who cleaned up in 1929. I
3
mes
the aid of their party.” the time for 11
all good men to come isn't serious. But
“How would you explain that in connection with the world situation?” she asked. ;
Several readings,
shouldn't be bothered. I imagine if a dog really lazy and a fox was quick, it wouldn't be topo dificult to make the leap. “You must agree,” I countered, “that this next line, ‘Running water is better than stagnant’ could be serious?” ik ak
The young lady couldn't see beyond the water fountain near the elevators. Probably read a pamphlet on pure water some place and now her whole outlook was clouded.
‘Main Thing About This Matter Is—'
IN ANOTHER typewriter was a horrible ex-
ample of typing without rhyme or reason. Qne line of incoherent letters were in red and another in black.. This blossomed into “The main thing about this matter is . . .” That was all there was. There were many examples of idle thinking. “This is Indianapolis.” “In the period now ‘enter ing the period.” “My name is Joe Doakes.” “My. name is Mary Smith and I live . , .” “ fag hag jag lag nag rag sag tag wag zig zag.” is plain nutty. “Do you have a lot of this junk typed on your! sample machines?” The clerk said there was a great deal of idle pounding but it's not unusual to have a “gentleman” come in, address a few envelopes, thank her and go. 2 “A couple customers, I'll say customers,” she said, “have typed letters right here on the counter. If they can type we don’t say too much. Of course, if someone can’t type and uses the machine too long we fry to discourage him.” I understand. No one seemed to see any significance in the arguments I presented. “O come all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant . . .” was an excerpt from a Christmas hymn. Nothing more, according to a clerk. Most disconcerting. You try to be serious and the public won't let you. Clerks and doodlers alike. What can you do in the face of a statement such as this? “I am the best looking man in Indianapolis.” And right under “Now is the time-for all good men to come to the aid of their country.” Wonder if that could be a code of some kind?
By Robert Ruark
He and Phillips Russell, a distinguished biographér who teaches writing, lead the pen and typewritdr set. Mr. James Street, a backslid preacher who writes earthy novels, lives in Chapel Hill so the can write about some place else. Josephine Niggli, a recent book of the month-er, lives here so she can write about Mexico. Betty Smith of Brooklyn has lived here for years, writing about trees growing in Brooklyn. Noel Houston, a hefty Oklahoman, lives in Chapel Hill, so he can write about the lusty west. Mr. Houston came to spend a year, and that was 10 years ago. “ You couldn't pry him loose now with a tire tool. Louis Graves was writing highly successful slick fiction in New| York 30 years ago. He got tired of being highly successful in New York and has been running the weekly paper here for the last 25 years.
Brother Street, Earthworm Farmer
THESE PEOPLE get a little angry if you describe them as a nest of writers. Mr. Street, for instance, thinks of. himself as a hog ralser| and earthworm farmer. An “earthworm” farmer is a fanatic who thinks fertilizer poisons the ground, and who is prepared to tell you about it for the next 20 months. Brother Street is unable to explain clearly] what tied him to the town, after a lengthy life of vagabondage, and Mr. Street is a man of such scope that he once took a taxi from New York/ to Denver because he hankered for a certain kind, of steak. He just woke up with a hangover here] one day, while fleeing from Florida, and wound up, swindling the city slickers with hams which are| obviously fattened on square cut emeralds. Between) hog raising and book writing Mr. Street says he| can get into more exciting trouble here than in New York. There is evidently some sort of virus in the air—a virus which saps the strength and prevents’ an exit. Or, if the ‘exodus is made, the disease reoccurs and forces the victim to come home again, Your correspondent is a case in point. I was content in the outside world for 13 years, but look at me now. Here I sit, up to my hocks!
i 1
.In snow and artists and wondering wistfully if|
still get the shudders “when T “think “about. my
unholy profits then; it may even be that Mr.
Maynard used a similar system. Gentlemen of -
the committee, Othman, the red-haired wolf of Wall Street, speaks: ’ Nineteen years. ago I was one of the young*st employees of the United Press, filing the news wire to El Paso and other points southWest. Old Tom Cannon was the chief operator In the Denver relay and it pained him to see me Spending my not too considerable wage on such essentials as home-made gin and blonds, If ever A young man was going to the dogs, said Tom, I was the one. Tch, he said. He kept after me for weeks. Why didn't I fave my money? Invest it in something safe? Then, said Tom, I'd not only have something for my old age, but I wouldn't be coming bleary-eyed to work four mornings a week. He'd put all his Savings into something ‘called Amalgamated Humtehumpt, Series B, an investment trust, and Already he was thousands of dollars ahead.
I Signed Up for Amalgamated
ONE. AFTERNOON in thé summer of 1929 “hen the last bulletin had cledred and the wire Was down, Tom took me by the ear and led me {0 his broker on Champa Street. He stood over Me while I signed up for a chunk of Amalgamated. What I made was a down payment of $19 ut being “payday) on margin. Every payday I'd Plunk down another $10 and eventually I'd own
. control of my stock. Not the stock; just the + control,
80 every Friday I handed $10 over to the
The Quiz Master
The instrument had its origin, centuries ago, “History? ; In the watohtowers.on the flat plains of the Low- Thé Luddites were workmen of the indus ,i/iy) !ands. ' Rarest and costliest of all musical instru- centers of England who from 1811 to 1818 Ments, there are r fewer tham 200 caril- wrecked ,» to which |
, Anderson can find it, I can’t. I'm still
there isn't something to cultural pig growing, after all. 3 .
| | | |
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Frederick-C-Of ;
broker, Amalgamated kept going up, and Tom beamed approval. My nightlife was ruined by
this finaricial drain; I didn't like it, but I was!|’
scared of Tom.
O-oh, Fri
, forward and backward, and| I had to admit that maybe George Marshall]
SECOND SECTION
mon, birthdays today, Friday, Feb. 13. And,
one exception, none is the least bit superstitious. Kitty Belle is a little young to worry as she is only five. But with a big sign she tells everyone that this is THE day. . She is the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Frank Soukup, 228 N. Tacoma Ave.
a
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Mrs. Robert F. Bellows, 5445 College Ave., is
to think there is something to this superstition business.
He is ||. In the last three days he has broke a plate, run the wrong errand and spilled i clothes, He wanted
oe : on tine safe side.
Along came September of that historic year.! &
The United Press ordered my transfer to Chicago. I was broke, on account of my Amalgamated Whatsit, and Tom said I should wire L. B. Mickel, | the manager of bureaus for a traveling advance, | Mick was a kindly and sympathetic citizen, but! Talat know It. What “would He think of an
employee who couldn't even buy a raflroad ticket? §*
I couldn't wire him.. I told Tom I'd sell my} stock first. He said if I did I was a fool. X I Cashed in for $1300
NOW IT was early in October. I was read
to leave Denver. Fortunately it was Tom's de, | off. Feeling like a criminal, I sneaked down 4! the broker to sell out my account, invested nearly $100 in Amalgamated as’ | soared from $19 to 531 per share. The bro... said I was foolish, but he wrote out a ch I was so embarrassed I didn't look at it unis, 1! got outside. } It was for $1300! And I guess there Ol ;ght| to be a whole row of exclamation points i.... That check frightened me, but I cashed it anyhow, and headed for Chicago, a wealthy ‘4... 1 remember that I took a bedroom on an € i,q. fare train. Othman, I bought a paper at Moline next mo ning. | It was Friday, but I didn’t realize it was 1.0 Friday.. Amalgamated, Series B, was.quo'yeq at 11. When I reached Chicago, it was 2. i, gow
days later the newspapers didn't bother 4, jiu!
it at all, Poor Tom lost most of his savings Li, inet one. And I had so much money I t manufacturing my own gin; Al Capone's best "4.4 stuff was barely good enough for me. ‘ppeng'y probably a moral here somewhere; maybe t fused, nearly 20 years later. ton
29? Test Your Skill “277
I must ha oo !°
Nothing was too good for weir!
— RSS Bad were the Luddites referred’ to in Er yglish
SHATTER SUPERSTITION — That's just what Harlan Yancey is willing to do on his L~ 13th birthday as he wields a hammer before a mirror. The son of Mr. .and Mrs. Charles ‘Yancey, 344 N. Miley Ave., he has had the good fortune to win a year's scholarship to the John Herron Art Institute for artistic ~ ability: shown in School 30,
TERRE ‘HAUTE, Ind, Feb. 13 The
by a cdr as he crossed a subjects. Police iden
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will teke part ‘in
day 13th’s
_ TODAY'S THE DAY—Kitty Belle Soukup typifies all the "lucky" people pictured here. They have, in com-
$O_SURE—Robert Bellows, son of Mr. and
to stay home in bed today to be
Dies From Auto Injuries Decatur Central Seniors
u senior class of Decatur (UP)—An- 81-year-old man died Central High Schéol will present
Decatur Central Future Farm-[tWo ensemble groups and three car fa Binaid K.lers of America representatives vocal from i : the Marign'tral and N on’
e Indianapolis
FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 1048
Photos and Captions by Victor Peterson.
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JUST A DAREDEVIL— James Briner, 9, purposely put his sweater on insideout to see if it would bring bad luck. He is the son of Mr..and Mrs. Jarvis-Briner; 721 Lexington Ave.
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NOTHING TO IT—Sharon Yetter, 5432 Winthrop Ave., has no fear of cats crossing her path whether they are coal black or dusty gray like her pet, Peek-A-Boo. She is I3 today and always has felt that 13 was a lucky number. An amateur entomologist (bug collector), she is the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. George Yetter,
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-
Marott Center, .
Ce a 3 Fourteen instrumental soloists, |ise
Ne # ". s en ga hy
ere Again— ==And Right On Our Birthday, Too
PLAIN OL' DOUBLE TROUBLE-—Joan Rader (left) and Avis McCutchan are just asking for bad luck on their 13th birthdays by sitting under an open umbrella in the house. "Oh, that's old fashioned," they chorused when warned of the imminent danger involved. The two have lived within st one's throw since birth but didn't meet until they entered School 75. Joan, the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Quincie Rader, 1238 N. Sheffield Ave., plans on taking nurse's t raining. Avis wants to become a florist. Mr. and Mrs. Stanley McCutchan, 1223 N. Mount St.
A BIT CONFUSED—Getting a shoe on the wrong . foot is all in a day's work for 3-year-old Jerry Harley. After all, he's just learning to dress himself and one shoe looks as good as the other. His only bad luck is nat being able to keep up with his 8-year-old brother, James. They i ere-the sons of Mr. and Mrs. John Harley, 2757 Carroll +
Talbot St.
freee ; . fo Present Movies Tonight = |" Fw York Feb. 15 (UP) [County 4-H Grain judging contesc won first division awards in *he|Brookiyn Conttannouneed last night of injuries he had re-|the movie: “Jack London” tonight] be held tomorrow in Piirdue-/annual district solo and ensemble (day celved earlier in the day when in the gym, with. selected short J
PAGE 10
WHAT'S ALL THE FUSS? — Ronald Bowman is a year old. Asked if he were superstitious, he just laughed and then said nothing, He was a lot more interested in the toys in his crib than Shything the “big folks" said about this fateful day. He is the son. of Mr, and Mrs. Willis Bowman, 2155 N,