Hope Star from Hope, Arkansas on November 12, 1937 · Page 2
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Hope Star from Hope, Arkansas · Page 2

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PAG& TWO If OPE STA1, HOPE, ARKANSAS Star Star of Hope ISjJfc Press, 1987. CJonsoltoated January 18, 1929. O Justice, Deliver Thy Herald From False Report! Published every week-day afternoon by Star Publishing Co., Inc. (C. £ Palme* & Al«. H. Washburn), at The Star building, 212-214 South ffalnut Street, Hope, Arkansas. C E. PALMER, President AtGX. H. WASHBURN. Editor and Publisher (AP) —Means Associated Press (NBA)—Means Newspaper Enterprise Ass'n. Subscription Hate (Always Payable in Advance): By city carrier, per week ISc; per month 6Sc; one year $6.50. By mail, in Hempstead, Nevada, Howard, Miller and LaFayette counties, $3.50 per year; elsewhere ?6.50. Member of The Associated Press: The Associated Press is exclusively to the .uSe for republication of all news dispatches credited to it or 'not otherwise credited in this paper and also the local news published herein. Charges on Tributes, Etc.: Charges will be made for all tributes, cards of thanks; resolutions, or memorials, concerning! the departed. Commercial newspapers hold to this policy in the ne\vs columns to protect their readers ,Wft a deluge of space-taking memorials. The Star disclaims responsibility for the safe-keeping or return of any unsolicited manuscripts. Tragedy of the Man Who Began Too Late I F THERE ever was a man who seemed fated to live out an acute personal tragedy on a public stage, that man must be the Duke of Windsor. His recent speech before the Anglo-American Press Club at Paris merely carries his tragedy one stage further and makes its ironic poignancy more obvious. In that speech the duke said that he had no intention of leading an idle life. He hoped, he said, to make some contribution toward solving the world's present grave problems. * * * T HE tragedy; of course, is the old, old human tragedy of "to late." For this man who sets out to contribute to a solution of the world's problems is. after all, that same confused; harassed and desperately unhappy person who stepped 'down of his own free will from the one place where he might •have been able to make such a contribution effectively. First he was Prince of Wales and then he was king of England; and although the king of England no longer holds the substance of actual power, he possesses as do few other , human beings a sounding board from which he can impress 'his ideas on the .minds of his fellow men. His least word and has slightest gesture are observed by millions of people. But as prince, this man was noted chiefly for his intimate association with the gay night club crowd. America fairly crawled with girls -whose proudest boast was that they had danced with the prince; England had dozens of anecdotes about his parties. And when, he became king the world watched him eagerly —not to'get a kingly and a significant hint as to the solution' of its'innumerable woes, but to learn which woman, if any, he might choose to marry. He .spoke to the world over the air waves, once, and the world hung on his words—to discover that the whole thing was too much for him and that he was dropping out. * * * A ND now this unluckiest of mortals wants to "make some 4\ contribution" toward solving the world's problems! Small wonder that in his confusion he studies labor union problems in Germany, where there are no labor unions. The man who fights with the best there is in him and is beaten by circumstance is not a tragic figure—not really. In this defeat there can be an everlasting triumph. The genuine tragedy is that of the man who is beaten fey himself; the man who does have a glimpse of what might be, but who can't quite bring himself to act on it. And that is the tragedy of the well-meaning and likable Duke of Windsor. Three Men On a War Horse Political Announcements the Star Is mithorlMd io make the following candidate announcements subject to the action of the Democratic city primary election Tuesday, November 30: For City Attorney STKVE CA1UUC5AN HOYCE WE1SENBERGER Alderman, Ward Three F. D. HENHY By Olive Roberts Barton_ Mother's Uncurbed Emotions Color Whole Family's Life It might be a happier world if it were not for human emotions—feelings, in everyday parlance. Everyone is consumed daily and even hourly .by worry, fear, anger or humiliation; or the happier ones, elation, love, pride and satisfaction. There are dozens of others, including, the kindly reactions of sympathy, generosity and forgiveness. That these latter are tied up with self pride is another subject, but it remains that most other most of the time. To allow each experience wo have to eat into emotion wears us out. The old .saying that work won't kill but worry will, should be amended to rend, "Work won't kill but emotion of any kind will," if it goes to extremes. We cannot stop ourselves from feeling, but we can, with patience, stop interpreting everything that happens to use in terms of jealousy, or humiliation or general self pity. Suffers Unnecessarily I am speaking particularly to mothers. Because the attitude of the mother colors the whole of family life. If she is too emotional, she will not only suffer more than need be herself, but ully upset also. The repercussion will miike her still more unhtippy. Then, too, such u person is likely to be unpredictable, that is, changeable. Her moocls nre iipt to vary, according to her feelings at the moment. One day she will overlook things that the next day she will be upset about. One diiy she will give permission, and thi' next clny refuse without particular reason. She will bo singing when Die children come in from school on Monday, nntl cross on Tuesday, when nothing spwial has happened to mnke the difference except perhaps that the clothes would not dry, or Mrs. Smith cinne in with a new dross on. Boredom alone gets her down. Money worry, the root of all trouble, I'll grant her, rears its had higher some days than others. But most people have money worries, and if it is any com furl to her. we all do the best we cnn. So CUM she. No Kasy Solution No otic is blaming the harried woman whose emotions oat her peace of mind so avidly. If there were an easy answer to these entirely human weaknesses, some author would make his fortune. But this is something that no one can cure except the individual. One can say. "I can't make my thoughts a blank, but 1 can fix on something definite to plan for. and let others lake a buck seat. Stop nil sighing, and wishful thinking and pelf pity, and plan to go over and stay with tired Mrs. Jones for an hour so she can get a nap. with the baby off her mind. No time? Well, somehow tinn- seems to he provided. Strange as it seems, it is not the lovely things that remove our hurts, but the homely and even the unpleasant effort. Besides, the helpful act is the lovely act. It taks courage to forget ourselves. Calmness of spirit is the only real happiness, and substitution works magic. Pn'day, November FLAPPER PANNY By Syl ® IY NCA stftviee. me. f. M. «a. u. it. PAT. off. "Remember how we used to fight over who'd'play with tliis.Chuc mmta been a pair of little brats." a Pay By Bruce Catton people are "feeling" one way or an- ' her children are likely to be cmotion- Taxes You Don't See T HE farmer pays taxes every year on his farm; if the rate goes up he notices it at once and squawks. The city dweller who lives in an apartment or a rented house pays no taxes at all; if the tax rate goes up he says not a word, thinking that it does not affect him personally. That the city dweller thereby kids himself ruinously is pointed out in a tax study prepared by Dr. Mabel Newcomer of Vassar College for the Twentieth Century Fund. For the city dweller. Dr. Newcomer remarks, actually pays heavier taxes than the farmer. His monthly rent payments include a property tax far higher than that in rural .regions. Almost everything he buys has a similar hidden tax. Dr. Newcomer sums it up by showing that an average Illinois farmer who makes $1000 a year pays out 10.4 per cent of his income in taxes; but his brother in the city, who has the same income, pays out 19.3 per cent in taxes. Until city folk generally realize this fact, and protest accoi'dingly, there is scant hope of reducing the heavy tax load. JILL BY MARY RAYMOND Copyright, 1957, NEA Service, Inc. T. M. Re?. U. S. Pat. Ofl By DK. MORUIS FISHBED) Editor, Journal of tb« American Medical Association, and of H>f eia, the Health Magazine. Warts Often Go Away Even When No Treatment at All Is Applied This it the 19th ef a series of articles in which Dr. Morris Fishbein discusses diseases of the skin. (No. 308) Simply because there are so many symbolic cures for warts the specialists in diseases of the skin have given serious consideration to the pow- | er of suggestion in relationship -to the removal of warts. j One of the most famous foreign auth- ] orities wrote: "It is a general belief' of the people of all nations that warts ; are curable by suggetsion. There is: hardly another disease in which the I belief in the value of suggestion is so stronk. There is no doubt that warts of many years' duration can disappear over night, spontaneously." While there has been a great deal of scientific study to prove that suggestion alone may cause the removal of the wart, there is also much doubt as to the evidence. However, in addition to the fact that warts frequently go away without any treatment whatever and in association with various superstitious notions, it has been found that all sorts of dru«.s j and, in fact, any drug may be associated with relief of warts. When warts are studied scientifically they are found to be growths of the skin. Many physicians believe that they are infections. Warts seldom produce any symptoms except when they are on the soles of the feet, ifl which case, of course, they /naye be- com« painful. It has been found that picking of end spreading of the blood or material from the wart over the adjacent skin may result in multiplication of the warts. 'It is better, therefore, not to attempt to treat them unscientifically. When a specialist in diseases of the skin i.s called upon to treat warts, he applies any one of a number of treatments, including injections of bismuth directly into the wart, destruction of the warts by strong chemicals, freezing with carbon dioxide snow, electric (Jbssication of the wart, and surgical removal if the warts are large or multiple in any one spot. NEXT: Corns and calluses. California Civil war veterans who attributed his longevity to the use of rye whisky died the othor day, aged 101. Drink was bound to get him down in the end. Mayor LaGuardia tells New York voters hi; found on taking office that iarnrnuny had put &88 unnecessary workers on the city payroll. If Tam- rnany wai, that moderate, then there must be something in the talk that it has reformed. That eastern football coach who is teaching co-eds the fine points of football strategy ought to realize that he i§ just building up a new lot of Monday morning quarterbacks for himself. OA-8T <KF CHA.TVACTEUS JILL 1VKNIFWOUTH, heroine, attractive debutante. AI.A3V JEFFIIY, l»ero, rlxlns 7OUHK .artist. UARIW WENTWORTH, JHI'x stepbrother. J A C K. WENTWOHTH, Jill'w brother. 2VLVIA. SVITTON, oil liclrexH. * * » Yesterdays Burry and his father quarrel over money. Suddenly the rider TVentwvrth crumple* ut J>>» | heavens, mother! You don't believe I did this! We had a row. He was talking about cutting me out for a long while, I started toward him with this thing in my hand. I might have hit him if I had ever reached him. But before I got there he fell, hitting his head—" "You must get out of here now, quickly and get rid of that CHAPTER XXI WENTWORTH had been] startled out of deep sleep by the sound of loud voices. And then, there was another sound. Something had fallen in the room under her own bed. Her hus- oand's study. She was out of bed, pulb'ng a robe about her, shivering a little. She went to the door that opened into her husband's room and turr&d the knob. John was up. That was it. His bed had not been slept in. Jn the upstairs hall, she met Miss Dexter hurrying from the other wing, looking like a little gray owl in her woolly wrapper, her eyes round with alarm. "Then, you heard it, too," Miss Dexter whispered. "Do you llilnk it might be burglars?" "1 don't think anything of the kind," Mrs. Wentworth snapped. "It's 5 or 6, almost time for the servants to come in. Burglars don't break in at this hour. Mr. Wentworth is up. He probably turned a chair over. Go back to your room before you wake everybody." Suddenly, she realized she was fighting a dreadful premonition of disaster. Barry had been drinking last night. When he was drinking he was always in an ugly mood. Suppose he had gone to his father's sxudy— "Go back to your room, Miss Dexter." Mrs. Wentworth spoke again with such cold finality in her voice that the secretary retreated hastily, hurrying down the hall and into her own little nook like a frightened mouse slipping safely into its hole. Mrs. Wentworth waited only until IJie secretary's door had closed, and then hastened down the stairs. Crossing the still shadowed hall, she stood for a moment outside the door of the study. Then quickly opened it. » * * B ARRY was standing as though turned to stone, looking down at a figure outstretched on the rug. An object, which she recognized dully as a heavy paperweight that her husband had used ior years, was in Barry's haad. "He's dead," Barry whispered. "It was his heajrt." And then as his mother's an- f ujsbed, eyes still held his; "Good paperweight in your hand." "But, mother, you can't, you qon't believe I did it!" •Jt doesn't matter what I believe, Barry," Mrs. Wentworth whispei ed. "You mustn't be found here. Leave the house. When I word to the floor. She bent over Mrs, Wentworth. 'There, her eyes were fluttering open. She was moving. At least she wasn't dead. "I'm all right," Mrs. Wentworth said. She got to her feet and steadied herself by the table. "Get the servants, and then call a doctor for Mr. Wentworth." "She doesn't know it's too late for a doctor," Miss Dfxter thought. She looked back from the door, Mrs. Wentworth was moving some papers on the desk. Arranging them neatly. It seemed a long time, but she knew it was only a few minutes flash on the lights in the hall, slip j before the study was filled up the back stairs to your room. Lock the door behind you. Get undressed." Barry's fane, frozen w'th fear, registered for ?. moment before he obeyed. * * * CHE summoned all her strength, went over and bent to the still form, She placed her hand on the hand that lay outflung on the rug. She recoiled with a cry. It was true. He was dead. People might not believe what Barry said. They might call it murder. Mrs. Wentworth shuddered violently as she remembered that she must go through the quiet house, open the back door for Barry, leaving the lonely figure on the rug. But she was already doing it. Passing swiftly through the hall, unlocking a door. Then back, and on up the st;iirs, to the east wing. She knocked on Miss Dexler's door. "Miss Dexter! Miss Dexter!" It was her own voice speaking. "I'm frightened. I went to the bottom of the stair and called Mr. Wentworth. He doesn't answer. J'm afraid he's ill. You know his heart isn't strong." Miss Dexter had put on the gray robe again. As the thought of her employer's possible illness swept aside nervous fancies, she said quiet, sober-eyed servants. And then, Howell, the second butler, was saying in a low but firm tone: "Nobody should go near him until the police come. It might not have been his heart. He's had a blow on the head." # * * TV/TRS. WENTWORTH'S voice * rang out wildly: "You mustn't say things like that. The fall did that. There's no need for police." "I beg your pardon, ma'am. That may be true or it may not be. But I wouldn't be satisfied, beg your pardon again, ma'ani, until the police see him. At least, I'd like for Mr. Jack to see him before he's moved." Mrs. Wentworth nodded her head. She sank into a chair and covered her face with her hands. "I'll wake Mr. Jack and Mr. Barry," Miss Dexter said. "And Miss Jill, too, 1 guess. Oh, poor Miss Jill. She loved him so." A few moments later, she was pounding on Jack's door. And then on Barry's. Jack had bounded out of bed instantly, answering the summons: "Anything wrong, Miss Dexter?" "Your father's ill," Miss Dexter spoke mechanically. It had been more difficult to [_!_!, awaken Barry. "Drunk as usual," Miss Dexter muttered to herself, /lushed face Growth (if mi Artist in Modern America A rich, opinionated and gaily colorful book is Thomas Hart Benton's autobiography, "An Artist in AmcricaV (McBride: ?3.75). Mr. Benton, famous as a painter of murals which depict America unpret- tified and unadorned, tells here how he became an artist, how he tramped and wandered up, down and across the country, how he changed from lily-- fingcrd aesthete to he-man painter of things as they are, and what he found jut about his country in his years of studying it and painting it. Son of a practical Missouri politician, Benton had the urge to draw pictures from early childhood—his first mural was a penciled choo-choo train on the wallpaper of his parent's front hallway—and his matter-of-fact father was considerably disturbed to learn that he had .sired an artist. Studies in Chicago, Paris and New York left Benton up in the air. Ho became a poseur among poseurs, mouthing the jargon of the studios and trying to conv'.ncc himself that the abstractions he painced had real significance. Then came the war. Benton got in the navy and was put to making sketches of Norfolk navy yard. That settled him. He found out that looking ut real things and then making pictures of them was better than brooding in a studio over a bowl of drooping marigolds. Hu went to work in earnest after the war and became one cf modern America's most distinctive, and distinguished artists. All of this he sets forth in his book; and what makes the book so extremely You Can't Escape Hollywood, Is Report Tired Correspondent HOLLYWOOD.—Your correspondent ] had a very nice vacation, thank you, even if it did turn out to be a busman's holiday. During the past two weeks I drove a good many hundreds of miles, but it scorns that I never quite got out of Hollywood. At first I thought it would be a good idea to fritter nway my period of idleness, tourist fashion, with forays to the mountains, lakes, de.sert and waypoiuts which the guide books consider noteworthy. But the desert fringes are full of location companies grinding out horse operas. There's an Ohio river steamboat on Lake Arrowhead, and Cecil DeMillc's pirates have landed at Catalina. Studio trucks nrc choking the road to Chatsworth, and the usual calm of Lake Malibou is shattered by whistles und the yells of assistant directors. Arrowhead is 90 miles away, but it might as well be in the .middle of Culver City. First I found John Barrymore, Carole Lombard and others of the "True Confession" company there. Miss Lombard's whoops could be heard for miles because the water is pretty cold at that altitude, and she and Fred MacMurray were obliged to dunk themselves for two whole days. , Pol lies 1 nml Lions Moving into location nearby was a company from the Goldwyn Follies. They were occupying the site just vacated by Ginger Rogers, Doug Fairbanks, Jr., and the crew of "Having Wonderful Time." As soon as Miss Lombard quit whooping, Die Follies troupe went to work. I went home. A week later we were driving eastward again. There was El Monte and Gay's Lion Farm. We stopped. There were 235 lions at the place, and apparently most of them were movie nc- tors. The lecturer introduced them by nnme and regaled us with their screen credits. Then he put one of them through some tricks which it soon i.s to perform in a Tiiram picture. readable i.s the immense gusto with which he tells it all. Clearly, he has enjoyed life, has understood his fellow-Americans and has had an understanding and sympathetic eye for the details of their work and play. His book is not only prodigiou.sly entertaining; it will help you to a new un- dei'KUinding of your own country. practically: "Poor dear, and you j But finally, Barry's U were afraid to go to the study, appeared at the door. I guess I upset you talking about "What's the idea of waking me burglars. Don't worry. I suspect he went to sleep. That's all." "We must go down," Mrs. Wentworth insisted. They had reached the lower floor, and she saw Mrs. Wentworth reach automatically to turn the hall switch, flooding the bij room with warm light. * * 9 T>HE next moment they were •*• standing in the open study door. A scream rose to Miss Dexter's lips, and died there, as she felt Mrs. Wentworth swaying against her; then arms clinging 99 her employer slipped without, 9 at the crack oi dawn?" he had queried, gruffly. "Your father has had a stroke or something," Miss Dexter told him bluntly. "It looks pretty bad." At Jill's door, Miss Dexter knocked gently. Several time?. But there was no answer. She turned the knob quietly. The room was revealed in dainty disorder. Jill's lovely dress was thrown carelessly across a chair. Her satin slippers were near. A froth of silken things were on the bed, wWcit wag empty. (?Q Be COPR. 1937 BY NEA SERVICE. INC. We exited sadly nnd drove Pomona. At the Pomona rucu track,.Sffa Withers. Stuart F.rwin. Una Wgj$ and u crowd of hired spectator! cheering for a scene in the picture. "Checkers." We kept ri going, deciding to try Arro again. Surley, by now, the Confession" and "Follies" com would have checked out. And so they had. The first --- k ^ f saw was Jimmy Stewart chuck; rocks at a sign board. Wo pasSjiO lot of MGM trucks. Pretty soon|f came upon a complete village, ;|»rifi new but of the- vintage of 18G5. |0 I discovered, was a net for "Bene Forgot," and it was peopled by| than 700 technicians, laborers, « and actors, including Walter Hi •Beaiiln Bondi, Guy Kibbee nnd art. The Sun Bernardino moi are about as close us Huston Ji get to Hollywood. "- yj The town was an O'tio rivorj and an old side-whet 1 lor was tiei at the dock. They were River Queen with sheep and crates freight. It tooted a couple of choly toots as I turned the c; ward, down the mountain and gathering dusk. ««„,, M?n More Celebrities f||| It's early for the season at 'jfel Springs, but we happened to hit right at the opening of the Dunespi Schenck was there, and little .$j|l Maguirc.. In fact, I believe thoy|yiji together. So were Claire Winds Raquel Torres, Sophie Tucker, G$6| White, Eddie Cantor, Jack Benna^-a a lot of people we didn't stop to iifatji And so it went, wherever wo {vf« "Buccaneer" was being filmed a^J! alina. The "Wells Fargo" product! seems to be split up into locution,';^; panics all over California, wi' uiy * railroad sequences being shot at near Pomona, nnd many other at Angel's Camp near Sonora, inj gold country. "Bad Man of Brimstone" is Knnub, Utah, and "The nobin Hood" mostly are takingjpli at Chico, nearly 600 miles aw($i didn't Bo to either location, thgi I'm told that ouch spot boasts reading "Los Angeles City LiiT..,_ Every two or three days durinjjji;? vacation, I wont to my dentist,^ minute he'd get a drill into myg] third molar, thus rendering mo Jig less and speechless, he'd stark $~ about the marvelous porcelain .vjjjjji he made for Francis Ledorcr, or Margo's remarkable incisors, or arino Hepburn's stoic tolerance ofjjpp There's just no getting Hollywood. I'm glad I like it. " Sic they J'rcsbV Why, lady, if I had an iron Jung J egliW " them. RIGHT? Want It Printed it We'll have u printing expert on you, and you'll have an nomical, high quality job. ever your needs, we can (hum. Star Publishin COMPANY "Printing That Mokes a«

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