Hope Star from Hope, Arkansas on September 6, 1938 · Page 2
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Hope Star from Hope, Arkansas · Page 2

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Tuesday, September 6, 1938
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PAGE TWO HOPE STAR, HOPE, ARKANSAS Tuesday, September G, 1938 Star ot Hep* 1839? ftgS. 1921^ Cfr Star January 1% 19». At a Time Like This! 0 Justice, Deliver Frdm False Report I Published every wee*-d*y aitefMO&by S*f PubfisWftg Co., Ing. tC. E. Palmer & Alex. E tfMbburnf, at Tie Star building, Z12-ZU South Ftlnut street, Hope, Arkansas. C. E. PALMER, President AU3C. H. WASHBURN, Editor »ad Pubtfafaet _ CAP) —Means Associated Press (NBA)— MeUns Newspaper Enterprise Ass'n. Subscription Kate (Always Payable In Advance): By city carrier, per ireek ISo; per month 65c; one year $6.50. By mall, in Hempstead, Nevada, Howard, Miller and Lafayette counties, $£50 per year; elsewhere $6.50. Member of The Associated ftets: The Associated Pres* 19 exclusively urtitfed to tlje use for repubfication of all news dispatches credited to It or aot otherwise credited in fnis paper and also tke local news published herein. Charges on tributes. Eta.: Charges will be made for all tributes, cards if thanks, resolutions, or memorials, ,joncernlng the departed. Commercial newspapers hold to this poHcy in the "news columns to protect their readers from 8 deluge- of space-taking memorials. The Star disclaim! •espontlblllty tot the sale-keeping or return" ot any unsolicited manuscript*- Lone Wolf Bad Man — A Minor Menace W HAT a shoddy desperado this Floyd Hamilton turned out to bef Bkvzofied in the headlines as "Public Enemy Number One," Hamilton looked much move like a discouraged, penniless chicken thief when he finally fell into the hands of the ifeiw. At the time of his arrest he was trying to bum his way • out of town on a freight train and he had just $6.24 to his name. Obviously, crime didn't pay for this ehap. Unless he gets some satisfaction out of his brief prominence, he must be reflecting sacJly that he would be happier, better dressed, better fed and more respected if he had gone to work for WPA instead of trying to carve out a career as a bad man. * * * 'THERE would be little point, however, in going on -to ser- i monize heavily on the wages of sin. For the bad man of the Hamilton type, never was anything very special in the way of menace to our institutions. It is the city gangster who has been the real difficulty. And when we reach that point we begin to touch a sore spot — the extent to which the public itself is responsible for its real public enemies. The big city gangsters — the Dutch Schultz, Al Capone type of fellows — had nothing whatever in common with bad men of the kind Floyd Hamilton tried to imitate, except for the fact that they were ready to resort to murder whenever • necessary. They weren't lone wolves — far from it. Instead o'f defying society, they sought out society's corrupt elements and formed an alliance. Because those alliances were possible, those men were genuine menaces; not so much for themselves as for the -things they stood for. •- * * * . THEY operated with the connivance of officials sworn to ;;• 1. enforce the law. They supplied the public with divers com- 'modities and services which the public had made illegal but ' "nevertheless wanted. They were by-products of a very bad po- • -.-ritical, system.- Their mere existence indicated our whole ..... scheme of big city society. There was no dodging from pillar to post for them. They numbered big-shot politicians among their friends, came and went openly, and never had to run away from anybody except business rivals. We always have had 1 our Floyd Hamiltons, and we always will. They aren't important. The time to worry is when we start producing big city gangsters instead of smalltime bad men. Alpine Floparoo EVERYONE who has had any affection for the French and ij their talent for the dramatic must be shocked and grieved at the way they fumbled the ball down in the Alps. Referred to, of course, is the pay-off on the bij? cabinet ministers' mountain-climbing expedition in conjunction with the dedication of a shelter house. The jrentlemen just didn't do it. Two became "sli.erhtly indisposed" at the last minute, and the third allowed himself to be dissuaded by guides. Coming after the Italian cabinet members' great triumph in the 'field of hoop-diving, it deals a shattering body blow to the prestige of France in the international arena. How much better it would have been for the ministers to announce some less ambitious intention and then go through with the thing! They still have time to recover a portion of their prestige if they work fast and organize some stunt like swimming in a body from the right to the left bank of the Seine. That elementary dramatic rule of attempting less and brilliantly succeeding at it seems to have been forgotten in Europe. Too many leaders over there are taking the expedient and easy way out on the difficult problems facing Europe. Too often they decline to face facts and thus postpone the inevitable day of reckoning. They are not getting very far up the mountain. A Book a Day By Bruce Miss Thompson Sot-Is (he Isms "Fifty millrm isms must be wronfl," Dorthory Thompson writes in her comprehensive little book. "Political Guide" (Stackpole Sous: $1.25. ami she might have nckled that they're terrifically confusing. All of which make her volume an unusually useful book. For Miss Thompson proceeds to take Niiziism, Fascism and the host of other isms aprt to see wht mkes them run ml how you en tell one from the other when they re running. "For the sake of these words ant) what they represent," she tells you "men wear black shirts or brown, put roil ties around their necks, conspire in cafes and drawing rooms quarrel with their friends desert their parents, shout make camps, publish newspapers proclaim that a new heaven and -ire at hand." But are they really at hand? Miss Thompson wonders about the world, specifically about America. A .creat many people, she avrs. thought that when Roosevelt was elected we too had a rvolution of sorts, that a fundament-il change had come in American life. But when we look thoughtfully at what we have done, it is impossible to believe that anything of the kind has h:ipened. For the most part we have become a nation of doubters. From this point Miss Thompson ijoes on to define u liberal planned economy, capital, and labor. With a fine lucidity .she manages lo interpret each. The result is a succinct study of our own American democracy, our political .system. Her conclusions about this system ar you a bit but in my event they're worthy of examination.—P.O.F. [FLAPPER FANNY By Sylvia ease. Some specialists, however, are inclined to recommend the use of the method, particularly when a child is found in a home in which there may be present some tuberculosis in the parents. Double Play BOSTON.— Joe Cronin maintained his popularity at home by giving his wife, Mildred, the automobile he received for being voted the most popular shortstop in the major leagues in a nationwide poll. Two hundred and thirteen hospitals in 47 American cities hold approximate ly 82 grams of radium between them. By Olive Roberts Barton Most School Teachers Are Competent, Despite Burden of Being Only Human Teachers cannot be discovered with divining rods, like life-giving springs. It might be a good idea if they could be, but like the personnel in all responsible positions, these leaders of our children must be chosen by methods less mythical. However, it is not as it used to be, where only a certificate in subjects was necessary t oqualify a man or woman to impart '.'learning" to the young. No, today training schools make a tremendous point of psychology, and sympathetic understanding of child nature. Few teachers enter their profession without a thorough course in modern management. Still an dall, the human element is there. There are dozens ot excellent teachers for every one who is not made COCA. 1»J1 IY MCA tCHVICC. INC. f. M. MO. U. 5. PAT. Off. "Oh, this is our LAST year's teacher, Miss Fink! SERIAL STORY PHOTO FINISH BY CHARLES B PARMER COPYRIGHT. 1938 NEA SERVICE. INC. ocfor T. M. Reg. U. S. P»t O«. By DK. MORKIS FISHBEQ4 Mltor, Journal of the American Medical AnocUttoB, ud •! . the Health Maf axta*. The Tuberculosis Death Rate Is High During the Period of Adolescence me most important measure in pre- Vvfitinj; tuberculosis is to keep the child from coming in contact with someone who has an open case of this disease. The person who has been healed of tuberculosis may also be a source of contamination if there is not absolute certainty asto the completeness of the healing. Most physicians are convinced that neither a man nor a woman has the right to marry while actively ijl with tuberculosis. A child born of such parents must usually live with them, and as a result is constantly exposed to an open case of the disease. . With regular physical examination of all children each year on entrance to school, it is possible to detect a great deal of tuberculosis i/v early stages. In many instances the examination is, however, much too perfunctory to show definite signs of early tuberculosis in a child's chest. For this reason the tuberculin testing of school children and the making of serial X-ray studies of the chest is to be considered as an important factor in preventing tuberculosis. Mortality tables show that the death rates from tuberculosis .increase particularly during the period of adolescence. This affects girls much more than it affects boys. During the coming of adolescence many children are anemic and underfed, principally because of the mental changes that are associated with this period. Moreover, much less attention if: given to preventive work among adolescent children. They are Ificely to spend long hours in badly ventilated class rooms, stores, or workroom. 1 ?. An insufficient amount of attention is given to their needs for recreation in the open air. Their diets are not adequately supervised, and they indulge in irregular meals of poor quality and insufficient quantity. They are no longer in the age of childhood, and are likely to be neglected by the specialist in diseases of children because of their being in what might be called an in-between period. For such reasons experts are inclined to emphasize attenti- i to the dietary needs of the growing child. The maintenance of optimum nutrition for every child is a form of prevention of tuberculosis that should not be overlooked. In association with this nutrition there should be good hygiene with plenty of fresh air, sunshine, and adequate rest. Thus far, vaccination against tuberculosis with living vaccines of the tuberculosis germs—the sa-called BCG technie—has not been sufficiently established to indicate its use as a routine for the prevention of this dis- Yi'Slrrtliiy: llriu-c Knilt'orii nnil Undn qnarri-l over flrown Dtmnlil. TlH'n I.inda pirk.s up rhc mystery envelope ivlilell Ilruee liail K^veii her um'le. CHAPTER VIII 44 T'LL get it for you, Uncle Sandy," said Linda. She leaned over, but ho jabbed i her with his elbow. "Uncle Sandy—" she reached, got it: the long envelope she had seen Bruce Radford give him. "I'll put it on the dresser," but he snatched it from her hands. Why was that letter so important? Why didn't ho wish her to touch it? Linda went out on the porch. Sank into a rocker. The excitement of the auction; the meeting with Brown Donald; Monte Hill dropping down from the skies; Uncle Sandy's suddenly changed attitude toward her—his air of mystery about this letter Bruce Radford had given him. It was all too much. Her shoulders sagged helplessly. So this was the Blue Grass she had longed for! She had left it as a young girl; and had held it since in the fragrant memory of a happy childhood. Now she was facing tough reality. She felt like sending a telegram to Mr. Moss in New York. Saying, all's well at home; I'll take your offer if it's still open. She was a fool to give up a brilliant chance like that—a chance to become staff writer on a national magazine. Writing was her field; she didn't know a darn thing | about horse racing. She straightened. "You fool!" she told herself. "You asked for | it; now you've got to take it." i No, she wouldn't go back. That ! would admit defeat. She'd carry ; on somehow— | "Miss Linda," Norman was at : the doorway, "I turn out the • light. Uncle Sandy he gone to : sleep," he said. : "Thank you, Norman," she said • bruskly. Then, "Norman, can't ' you get us a cook? I'm going to ctay a while. It'll be too much ' for you, cooking and handling the ' colt, too." i Norman thought a moment. ! "There be Sis' Gallic Tompkins; but—" he stopped. "But what?" "Well, ma'am," Norman shuffled his feet. "She be a good church member, but she—she got a powerful bad temper." "Can she cook? And clean house?" "Oh, yes, ma'am! An' it we git a 'possum—" "Then get her." "Yes, ma'am. I go tell her now." T INDA leaned back. Tried to •"' relax. Drew in a deep breath. What was that odor, brought by the wind soughing through the! sycamores? Uh! A skunk! j A cat howled in the barn; she ' heard Golden Toy clumping nervously, uneasily, in his new home. She felt something jabbing her ankle—ouch! A mosquito. She rubbed the spot a moment. Then rose. Something brushed against her face, something unpleasant. She brushed it oil'—a spider's loose web. From inside the house came the raucous snores of Uncle Sandy Gordon. Linda laughed a hollow laugh. This was the romantic Blue Grass! Suddenly, she remembered Uncle Sandy's snatching that envelope from her; the envelope Bruce had given to him quite casually, as though of no moment. What was in it that Uncle Sandy wanted to keep it from her hands? Uncle Sandy had opened it when he hurried oft' "to see if the colt be bedded down." There was something in it he didn't want Linda to know; something, she felt, she should know of. She thought a moment. Yes, she was going to look into that envelope. Maybe she shouldn't; but if she was going to look after Uncle Sandy, she should know the condition of his affairs. She felt that envelope contained something— * * * /"QUIETLY she went inside; C peeped into Uncle Sandy's room. By light from the dining, room she could sen him stretched i out, back toward her, in an old-1 fashioned night-shirt. Something was sticking out from under the pillow: the envelope. She tiptoed in, reached for the envelope; he gave a sudden start. Began turning. She froze in her tracks. He relaxed, snored again. Now she had the envelope, was backing from the room. She bumped against the door-jamb. The wall shook. Again the horseman's snoring broke off; once more he started turning. If she were caught! But the old man's head relaxed again on the pillow. Linda edged out, went down the corridor to her room, the spare room, at the end of the hall. She turned on the light, looked at the envelope. No inscription on it. She opened it. A half dozen sheets of paper fell on the center- table. Papers bearing the words: "I promise to pay on demand to William Radford" and signed "Alexander Gordon." Eight notes, given over a series of 11 years—notes ranging (rum one for $250 (given in 1927) to one for $3000 (dated Jan. 1, l!K)(i). A total of $9000 in notes! Linda turned each paper over; on two only had payments been made; $40 on the $2, r )0 note; and $fi.'!0 on the $3000 one. Since.' then, he had gotten that last $3f>00 loan. Linda's eyes widened. William Radford had paid his $(iOOO loan back to Sandy Gordon. Then, in gratitude, had given Sandy Gordon money for his numerous breeding ventures—lent it without security! William Radford had bi-en a great friend. * * * AND Bruce? He was a honey! He knew that Sandy Gordon was a never-pay-bac-k. He had let the executors collect the note they held. But these, which he had found in his uncle's library, he had kept from them. Why, he could have forced Uncle Sandy to sell his farm! Linda got to her feet. Felt Wood rushing to her face. Bruce had been a thoroughbred. She had upbraided him unmercifully, and he had said nothing; he could have said plenty. She'd never mention this to Uncle Sandy; but she must apologize to Bruce instantly. She picked up the notes, put them back in the envelope, shaking her head. Then went to her uncle's room, slipped the envelope beneath his pillow. He was snoring strongly; he wouldn't hear her talking to Bruce. She stepped to the old-fashioned wall telephone in the hall, cranked the handle for central. At last the switchboard operator answered. "Mr. Bruce Radford's, please," she asked, in the country manner. "Yes, ma'am. Try to get him." At last, after several minutes of wire-buzzing, she heard, faintly, "Hello—hello—who you ring- in'?" "Is that Mr. Radford's farm?" Linda asked. "Yes, ma'am." Now, she heard clearly. "Let me speak with Mr. Bruce Radford, please." "Well, he—he ain't here." "What time do you expect him back?" "I don't know, ma'am. He packed up before supper—went visitin 1 tonight—come home and had me put his things in his car. Said he'd be gone quite a spell. . . . No, ma'am, I don't know where he went. He said he'd send for his mail." Linda made no reply. Slowly, mechanically, she put the receiver back on its hook. (To Be Continued) of tcnchor stuff, yet even no two superior ones arc alike. Just ns no two mothers are jilike. If the divining rot) c-nuld bo nppliod in selecting the absolutely perfect instructor, perhaps it would never touch ground nt all. In short, who is the perfect teacher? I don't know. No one docs. There is" no perfect doctor, lawyer or loader. No perfect anybody. Though Dr. Jones cnn cure Mrs. White, ho mny be com- plctly puzzled by Mrs. Black's cnse. The lawyer may win a trial for one man and by the sumo methods lose a similar suit for another client. Besides the human element part docs not pertain entirely to the teacher. There arc forty "human elements" in every schoolroom, each different, each with individuality of his own. Miss Gray may bo the perfect teacher of James. Toward Hilda she may develop a sense of failure, cither on Hilda's part or her own. Natures often clash; .sometimes they blend; again they remain merely indifferent to each other. Children will work ohrdcr for the teacher they "like." What this liking consists of is beyond any formula. Also what "dislike" is,, exactly, will forever remain a secret. I've had children who warmed my heart instantly, where former teachers had had trouble. And I have had the reverse experience of impatience, anxiously concealed, over a child a previous teacher thought perfect. What comes of all this rubbing of feelings—or let us just say difference in relationship—when a child changes teachers, term after tern, making new adjustments, sometimes uncomfortable ones for him? Well, I'll tell you, mother. It is rather good for him. He has to find out sooner or later that he has to do his best under all circumstances, an dthe more he leaves prejucli ceout and the more he leaves prejudice out f it the better. Every teacher has to conduct her school somewhat formally and regard her class without too much emotion. She is first officer, and so represents system that rec4uires conformity. Work is the item she must concentrate on; work, and as much individual guidance as she has time for. But it is unfair to think of her as heartless. Remember she has forty or so individuals to please, while James has only one. ——^»-»^ In Canada, Belgium, and the United Stales, the annual egg consumption is more than 200 per capita; in England it ranges between 150 and 200 per capita. orison in Frances Farmer Corrects a Few Impressions About Frances Farmer HOLLYWOOD.—Frances Farmer hns said that she was misquoted in that New York interview which described her supposed dislike for Hollywood. She likes Hollywood all right. The stage, too. She would like a cow-barn theater in Now England, or a tent show, or anything that gave her a chance to act- She didn't admit it, but I believe Miss Farmer is a little puzzled by people's rejection of such a single-minded ambition. It's as though they said to her: "Of coure you hate the drudgery; what would you do if you didn't have to be an actress?" And when she says, "I'd still be an actress," they think she's just being stubborn. Players who are all wrapped up in their jobs are not considered very colorfful in Hollywood. And that's probably one reason why Manhattan, which respects a dramatic conscience, doubts thatsuch a player can have a very high regard for tnlkietown. She I,cnrns All Sorts of Timings About Herself Most movie people repeat that Broadway interviewers try to bait them into making nasty cracks about Hollywood. In Miss Farmer's ease there was a theatrical press agent present who kept ribbing the celluloid business, and some of these remarks got into the reporter's notes, and widely into print, as the actress' own sentiments. Out here there are many misrepresentations, but relatively harmless ones. Publicity men and fan-magazine writers can't just sit around chanting, "Here is an actress who likes to act," so they make up stories about her. Some time ago there was a rash of yarns telling of Miss Farmer's ambition to be a newspaperwoman. It was even said that she planned to give up her career here to buy and run a small- town weekly. She never considered doing anything of the sort, nor did she ever want to be anything but an actress. Recently there was a surprising account of Miss Farmer's alleged taciturnity, and how she never will talk about anything except her hobby-sport, tennis. Actually she plays no more than the average Hollywoinan. "And I couldn't talk intelligently about it if I tried," she said. A sentimental tale is going the rounds today, and has been told over the air, about how Frances Farmer is oh-so-generously retarding her career to boost that of her husband, Leif Erikson. It seems (according to the story) that, she went to Adolph Zukor or somebody and said, "If you'll give Leif the lead in 'Escape From Yesterday,' I'll take the supporting role and give it my all on account of this would be such a great brenk for the poor dear deserving boy who never has had a real chance." This is the old inullarkey, says Miss Farmer. All that happened was that the two were assigned to the picture and now are playing init. True, Erikson probably deserved better movie roles than he had been getting, but his worries in that direction ended last season with his success in Broadway's studios now would be happy to rent him from Flu-amount. She Likes to Do What She Likes to On As for Frances, all she wants is a chance to act. "Golden Boy" made her an important figure in New York last season, and brought several fancy offers for her services. Instead, she'll go right on working three months a year in Hollywood, and nine months for the Group Theater in Manhattlan. This is an unprecedented division of time, but one that she insisted upon and got. I ventured a guess that the Group pays a good deal less than Paramount. She could have said, "Yes, it does," and let itgo at that. Instead, she said, "Well, I guess there's no harm in telling. I get there's no harm in telling. I get $400 a week here and $200 a week in New York. You could have knocked me over with a flipped dime. I'd have guessed J1000 in Hollywood. But ?400 was what she had to accept in order to get three- fourths of her time free for the stage. "It's worth it," she said. "No amount of money could pay me for not leading the kind of life I want. And 1 make good money anyway; all I need. "The only thing that bothers me is that some people think I'm niggardly. One day a man actualy b:\wed me out for driving an old, cheap car. He said, 'It's people like you, who make big money and won't spend it, who keep guysh like me out of work.' That hurt." Want Ad For Better Results JHBBP' i JBBP mHti ' urn •'While you're at it you better shave your < that tattooing of me looks awful 1' chest, Want It Printed RIGHT? We'll have a printing expsrt call on you, and you'll have an economical, high quality job. Whatever your needs, we can serve them. Star Publishing COMPANY "Printing That Makes an Impression" i;

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