Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 30 October 1949 — Page 15

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Scolding Pheasant

THE NEXT notation is about a scolding pheasant. Pat A. Timothy, who owns a gas station located on a bend in State Rd. 14, told me a

Well, I had my doubts. I. made a point of checking up on the rooster yesterday. Mr. Timothy, as unconcerned as ever, said sure the rooster had scolded him that morning. More than that, the old boy scolded at the kitchen door. When Mrs. Timothy swung at him with the broom, the rooster

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eternal in a hunter's breast.

Horse and Buggy School

20. A 4 " morsing, figures through on-the-job firing Tm told, you can see a horse and buggy. driven| struction has been developed by! : street “Mok

Two men who visit us almost every evening, robbing us of precious sleep but providing us plenty of laughs, are almost on par with the

said Jim O'Connell, Ashland, Ky., and Lou Romer, Attica, Ind., are the type of men every hunting’ camp should have. No matter how tired or low a man feels, when Big Jim and Lou come in, somehow enough energy comes back to laugh. And make up a batch of fresh baloney. My mustache is getting along so well I'll have trimmed. Had a beard going but there were so many complaints I had to cut ‘er off. Saved the mustache, It isn’t often I can go without shaving. Maybe I'll bring the mustache home with me.

Doggone, here comes Big Jim and Lou. Hide the cigarets and get the opener. :

Record Sucker Crop By Robert C. Ruark rot be a drop in the bucket as

NEW YORK, Oct. 20—I was not running around this wicked city in the 20's, and so cannot tell you at first hand whether they were as tomultuous as claimed, but I certainly do not believe the jazz decade had any corner on exploitation of the willing sucker.

The older boys gather round the bar at teatime to tell you about Texas Guinan’s raucous welcome of the suckers, and they speak with real nostalgia of the sheep-dip they drank at Mike's and the vintage varnish they consumed at Pete’s, and they brag about all the money they had to spend in a blind search of fun. This would almost lead you to believe that the chump had vanished from the land, or at least had dwindled to a bare few, I toss this in as a preface to ‘the fact that tickets for the musical “Sotith Pacific,” are scalping at $50 each—each, not pair—and finding all the takers necessary to keep the house packed. One hundred clams, for an evening's entertainment for a man and his mouse, it seems to me, is ample evidence that the Guinan alumni were pretty mild plungers in the stupidity league.

Room of Naught but Prices

THERE IS A CLUB called Stork in New York which has a small back room called Cub. In this room are seats, tables, waiters and ashtrays. Sometimes celebrities sit at the tables, sometimes not. The room offers no music or entertainment. It offers top prices for good food and drink. It is filled nightly with people who are willing to pay these prices in order to look at each other. Very often they do not even drink hard liquor, and just as often they do not speak to each other. They just sit there and make Mr. Billingsley richer. There is a dance palace called El Morocco in New York. It has a dance floor and tables and zebra-skin divans and prices. Yes, sir, it sure has ices. " People who do not dance come to El Morocco and sit. Quite often stag gentlemen will drop in to look. Humphrey Bogart once came in with a gentleman friend and two stuffed pandas. There are two sides to the dance floor, each equally close

to the orchestra. Yet the steady patrons would drop dead of shame if they were put on the far side of the floor. This I cannot understand. There is a restaurant in New York called “21,” another home of the rich and famous. It has three downstairs 8. The food and service and prices are all the same in all three rooms. There are patrons who would commit suicide if they were demoted from the first room to the second or third. People in the third room hope to work their way up to the second, and some day—some misty happy future day, even to the first room.

Short Slug Ruins a Dollar

IN MANY HOTELS the drinks are short and a slight slug runs a dollar permonently. A decent steak leaves just enough from a $5 to earn you a sneer from the waiter if you leave it as a tip. In many of the snootier deadfalls impoliteness is practiced habitually by the employees, and the customers soak it up gratefully. Race tracks play to capacity all over the land, and there are more bookmakers than press agents in New York alone. The fancy dressmakers start

their skimpy frocks at $500, and a dame whol

spends less than 10 grand on a mink coat is

tle.

loose kernel of corn.[0f Winter brings an increase in around here say if a pheasant|illegal smoke incidents.

are feathers that we’ll be back, Hope springs ians

Sa a

apartment naled the opening 3p the) gity’s annual winter smoke bat- i 31m view of his title as Indianapolis’ champion hold-up victim. Last week's hold-up by two armed bandits was the 19th

Although smoke inspectors do, not class the buildings among the flagrant violators, the transition from fall {o the first days

City Combustion Engineer John

Educational System A streamlined “educational” designed to cut violation| -

e pectors for use during; the seasonal period or on request thereafter. At the scene of reported violations, inspectors offer instruction on the to demonstrate best methods of combustion with min-

was seven years ago and the burglaries stopped. “Now they just come in with guns, stick ‘em In somebody's ribs and take the money instead. Never bother about burglarizing the place—just take the money. “It's a funny thing, though, that I-—personally—have never

ineffective, Mr. Mingle said. Smoke inspectors smok- in Indianapolis year than last as a result of the prolonged coal strikes. More Indiana coal and other high volatile fuels been held up,” Mr. White said will be used, the engineer stated. with a sly look and a twinkle Expects Long Delay i in his eye. “Know why? It is “If the strikes should end to-; because I'd know ’em and they morrow,” Mr. Mingle declared,| know I would. They wait until “it would probably be two weeks| I'm gone then come in and stick before low volatile shipments| up the boys.” would start arriving here. With The South 8ide grocer stopped the amount needed throughout, to light up a cigaret and blow the country, the volume would; rings as he called back past experiences. He insists he has

compared to requirements.” always known when a burglary

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sneered at as a social pretender. Sucker propositions in oil fields run wild today; stock swindles are still a going proposition. Some

of the operations involve the government. Preston

Tucker borrowed millions from that chump, Uncle Sam, to produce cars that never got built. The happy family of nations has Uncle over the barrel for billions that will never fly home. It is my contention that there are more suckers around than ever before, bigger suckers, easier suckers, and suckers who rush about crying to be clipped, Some of them do not even enjoy what they are willing to be sheared for, which is the ultimate in suckerdom. I applaud the shearers of the sheep, and wish them well with their $50 theater tickets, horse books and caste systems which the customer creates for himself. 1t's a shame old Texas Guinan isn't around today, to gather her share of the loot.

Ridin’ Rythm

By Frederick C. Othman;

WASHINGTON, Oct. 29—Anybody who diskes music while he rides, the long-nosed gentleman said, ought to have his head examined. Radios on streetcars are nuisances, interrupted an undersized citizen, and hard to abate. He recommended that passengers carry ice picks with which to puncture the loud-speakers in the trolleys. “I am insulted,” cried a small lady in a white shirtwaist. “I am just as smart as anybody in this room, and I don’t like radios on the bus. Trash. Fur coat ads. Men telling ladies to buy girdles, Bah!” She sat down. Fifty other ladies jumped up. Boo. Boo. The bangles jangled on their ears; the feathers quivered on their hats, and I don’t guess I've seen so many people so mad at each other since the Dempsey-Firpo fight.

Makes Pointed Objection THE CAPITAL TRANSIT CO. like numerous other traction firms around the nation, has sold the use of its passengers’ ears to a radio company which soothes same with soft music, interspersed with news bulletins, weather reports, the time of day, and advertisements for fried shrimp, bargain shirts, female underwear and ice boxes on longterm credit. Some people like it; some claw at the innards of the trolleys with their bare fingernails. Unfortunately, said the ice-pick man, the radio wires are concealed craftily in armor plate. Ice picks are the only answer, ‘“You listen to me,” cried a lady in the back of the room. “This is the way they do it in Russia,” howled a porily gentleman. And James Flanagan, chairman of the Public Utilities Commission, who was trying to learn from the citizens how they felt about perambulating radios that won’t shut off, banged his gavel. Boo. Boo. The chairman subsided gracefully and Claude N. Palmer, a vocal vegetable dealer

with a curl on his brow, said music didn’t soothe him as much as tobacco. “Why not require every passenger to smoke while in Capital Transit custody?” he demanded.

John Connaughton, president of the Federation

of Citizens’ Associations, said music hath charms|

to soothe the savage beast and anyhow the streetcar company needs the money. A large lady in a

brown dress said she was not a savage and he

kindly would watch his words. Mr. Connaughton ignored her.

He said that any whose nerves are shocked by beautiful music either is old and decrepit or

not right in the head. R. A. Seelig sald music did

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his nerves no good and he believed he was as in-|i

telligent as the witness.

“That is a matter of opinion,” replied Mr. Con-

naughton.

“At what age exactly do we become moronic and drag our feet?” demanded Mrs. Mary E. Shaw. “When you have to sit down to put on your

clothes,” replied Mr. Connaughton.

Full of Sound and Fury .

A LADY in a hat with a purple feather said she always sat down to dress and she was no moron. Just efficient. And by now everybody was

yelling. I caught a few snatches:

The music is flat . . . the motormen are nervous .+oaw, shut up...boo ... boo... let's have a

little quiet . . . you talk too much.

Chairman Flanagan, a patient man, sighed. And a Mr. Sartorious Nicholson observed that pas-

sengers on streetcars didn’t have to like music.

“You don’t have to listen to it,” he continued.

“But nevertheless it’s there.”

For a minute I thought he would get bopped! on the head with a reticule, but he managed to escape with his life. I got out of there behind him.

A bicycle rider, the static was too.much for me.

Methodist Hospital Middies Cheer Denfeld, Byllets Riddle

Organized tours through the|_More than

odist » house/Ing ovation when the ousted Methodist Hospital's open Chief of Naval Operations entered

his box at the Navy-Notre Dame|and into the kitchen. brigade whipped off

Ousted Naval Chief

BALTIMORE, Md., Oct. 20 (UP)

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James White . . . Can feel a hold-up coming.

or stick-up was about to take place. ® » ol “MANY NIGHTSI have watched all night long with a 44 pistol in my belt,” he Said. “Even my clerks didn’t know I was around but I watched and waited. I'd get tired and have to take a couple of hours off to rest. Then by golly it would happen. “One night I took my wife to the movies and I hadn't been there more than 30 minutes until the feeling struck me. I drove to the store fast but it had already happened. The boys toid me we'd been cleaned out again.” All of Mr. White's robberies haven't remained unsolved. He sald police had caught nine persons out of the last 17 rob-

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beries and obtained convictions. He says rather shyly that he

may have had something to do

with the arrests.

“I know most of these

punks,” he says. “Many of them

have traded with me, been

raised up right here in the neighborhood. Many of those

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“These punks just lay around the taverns and up mischief,” hn

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