Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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I * 0* / > McCORMICK MESSENGER, McCORMICK, S. C., THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 3, 1936 what W’thSiks about: The Campaign Blues S ANTA MONICA, CALIF.— What with Roosevelt taking over the ancient Hamiltonian theory of centralized authority and Landon promising to restore the Jeffersonian principle of state sovereignty, the campaign is in “high.” What with Farley undertaking to organize the Negro-voters of' the north for Roosevelt and the other side claiming to be hopeful of car rying Florida with the aid of white votes; what with 'Andy Jackson turning over in his grave and James G. Blaine stirring fretfully under the sod, it seems the most appro priate campaign selections would be for the Democratic orchestra to render “John Brown’s Body” and the Republican quartet to sing “Bonny Blue Flag,” with special emphasis upon the stirring line, “Hurrah, Hurrah, for Southern Rights, Hurrah!” Irvin S. Cobb Doping the Geegees. D ESPITE revelations that some of America’s most prized race horses have repeatedly been doped, one of the state racing boards rein stated a trainer found guilty of this foul and crooked cruel practice. So our commissioner to the interna - tional antinarcotic conference at Ge neva is disgusted. Maybe because I’m hopelessly old - fashioned, I still prefer that a horse should * b e trained on the turf and not at a drug store. Nowadays the fellow who prowls the paddock just before a race is liable either to go to sleep suddenly or go to bucking. It depends on whether the geegee he sniffs has been drugged to lose or drugged to win. • • • Hollywood Dog Days T OURISTS to the Hollywood sec tor come during a dullish inter lude. The diary of Miss Astor has been closed, and the next chapter * in the love-life of John Barrymore has not been opened. It might be said for Miss Astor’s output, before the court shut it off, that it was well-written and caused the public eagerly to await further disclosures. Certain parties may have gone out of town, but they all left word where the paper was to be sent. Hereafter, for a series of such purely personal confessions, it might be well to begin each in stallment like this: “May it please your honor and my precious pettykins.” • • • Praising John Hamilton I HEARD John Hamilton speak to a selected group of his own folks, and please don’t laugh when I say that the individual he most reminds me of—in engaging personality, in sound sense—is the rival national chairman, Jim Farley. Without comparing these two as to past records or future prospects, * I figure they’re temperamentally alike in various ways—notably in not getting unduly excited or nastily •vindicative. In his talk Hamilton did not de clare the American flag was in dan ger, did not implore anyone to save the American home. He didn’t call the Republicans saints; didn’t call the Democrats knaves or idiots. He didn’t claim for his side a monopoly of patriotism. Quite calmly he told his hearers what points he thought should be stressed by his party in this campaign—and poked fun at himself while poking fun at the other crowd. • • • Congressmen Versus Taxes A GAINST my better judgment, I’m trying to be cheered by the announcement of the present ma jority leaders in congress that, look ing forward to the next session, they behold no new taxes ahead. But, after election, *rhen the lads look closer, they’ll probably be able to behold quite a few. . That’s why a balanced budget is like the idea .of santa claus—some thing everybody talks about, but nobody ever expects to see. Ex cepting when a campaign is on and the voters are sort of flinching their galled backs under the load, a fa vorite pastime of legislators, wher ever found, is thinking up more taxes to go along with the taxes the’ve already thunk up. They resist the craving for just so long, and then they notice some previously overlooked dollars hiding behind the baseboard, and then— well, you nfight hire a henhawk to guard your henhquse, but could you depend on his word? IRVIN S. COBB ® Western Newspaper Union. Bermuda’s Water Supply In Bermuda all the roofs of the houses are white because these roofs are used to catch the rain as it falls. There is a strictly enforced law that every house must have a suitable water catch and storage tank. Rain falling on the white roofs, or into hillside catchments dug into coral, is diverted to storage tanks which are inspected and lime- washed regularly. ! STAR | i DUST I ★ 5 ★ JVtovie • Radio J ★ ★ ★★★By VIRGINIA VALE*^* W ITH the talkies celebrating their tenth birthday, film fans salute Warner Brothers, who back in 1936, helped the screen to find its voice. Remember the Vita- phone? That was the new inven- e # tion that just one decade ago changed the entire course of the movies. And remember “Don Juan”? That was the first film to have a fully synchronized score. John Barry more starred in it, but he did not talk. The only speaking on that pio neer program was done by Will Hays, cinema czar, who predicted a bril liant future for sound motion pic tures. It wasn’t long after this, that move theater owners dug down in their jeans to equip their houses for the projection of “talkies” to treat their patrons to the new thrill. And it wasn’t long until all the big companies were busy on sound pro ductions. So, many happy returns of the day, “talkies” and here’s hoping your birthday cake has ten nice candles on it. Bette Davis Those in the “know” say tjiat if Bette Davis will get over her mad with the studio, she can have a starring vehicle in “Danton, Terror of France,” a tale of the French revblution and the Reign of Terror. Max Reinhardt is scheduled to direct the pro duction which is expected to get under way in October. Bette has been on the suspen sion list since she made an exit from Warner Brothers’ studio when they failed to meet her salary demands and her request to be permitted to work elsewhqre once a year. It is said that Charles Laughton is wanted for the role of Danton. —k— i - Kate Smith has joined the parade of radio stars who have moved their program westward to Holly wood. Her broadcasts are sched uled to start from the film capital almost immediately. Incidentally, Kate is to have another fling'at the pictures. It is rumored that she will probably appear in the next Shirley Temple production. « —k— Bing Crosby is known as a man of individuality. Most everything he does has an individual slant to it. An example is his incorporation Of Bing Crosby, Ltd., Inc. The of ficers are Bing’s dad, his two broth ers and himself. The corporation gives them all jobs and keeps them busy handling the coin which rolls in from Bing’s advertising royal ties, his radio contract; screen sal ary and investments. Whenever Bing needs a little extra cash over and above his income from the cor poration, he simply calls the offi cers together and declares a spe cial dividend. Simple isn’t it? . —*— There’s one actress who can walk nearly a mile along her own pri vate beach in Hollywood. She’s Kar en Morley, who has .played the vU- lainess so convincingly in many screen productions. She and her hus band, Charles Vidor, own an ocean- side ranch which covers 42 acres. —k— Back from distant shores, Elissa Landi has been signed by MGM on a long term contract. She will have one of the leads in,the forthcoming production of the “Return of the Thin Man” which will star Myrna Loy and William Powell. —k— Loretta Young had been planning on a nice long vacation but now it seems that she’ll have to postpone it for a few weeks. She’s to be starred by Twentieth Cen tury-Fox in “Lloyd’s of London.” Don A m e c h e, Freddie Bartholomew, Sir Guy Standing, Vir ginia Field and C. Aubrey Smith are in the cast. Freddie will play Don Ameche, as a boy. Incidentally, “Lloyd’s” will be the fifth film in which Loretta has played this year. Quite a record for the little girl! ' ODDS AND ENDS—Shirley Temple makes $10 every time her pet white rab bits are used in a film by Twentieth Cen tury-Fox—Katharine Hepburn will vaca tion for several weeks in New York and return to Hollywood for the filming of “Quality Street'’ . . . David Selznick is carrying on a country-wide search for a perfect boy type to play “Tom Sawyer” . . . Claudette Colbert caused a mild sen sation when sht appeared in a cafe in a C 'r of those new high boots which are :oming all the rage . . . Jean Hersholt has trekked north to Callander, Ontario, to meet the Dionne quintuplets for the filming of “Reunion” . . . Wheeler and Woolsey have returned from Europe and will make a picture for RKO-Radio, en titled “A Pair of Sixes” . . . Martha Raye is still so young that her Paramount con tract has to be approve4 by the courts <& Weatera Newspaper Union. Loretta Young FAMOUS HEADLINE HUNTER « The Skulls and the Altar By FLOYD GIBBONS. ’ A N’ it’s a yarn from old Ireland we’re havin' today, an’ it’ll be Jack Boyd of New York city, that’s a-tellin’ of it. It happened in November, 1916, long before Jack was ever afther cornin’ to this coun try, artd \^hen he was on a ten-day leave from the trenches of France an’ havin’ a bit of a dhrink at a pub in the village of Moyne. In dny other country, Jack might have finished his drink and gone his way. But there’s something about the “ould sod” that makes it a favorite roosting place for Old Lady Adventure. Maybe the gal was born there. Anyway, she keeps things humming in that neck of the woods. It’s a rare Irishman that can go through a day without having something happen to him. At a table on the other side of the room were two men. They looked like prosperous farmers—landed gentry they call them over there on the other side—and they had stopped talking a couple of times to stare at Jack. Jack didn’t know either one of them. He was visiting some friends and had never been in the neighborhood before. But after a while one of tfie men came walking over to his table. John and Pat Were a Couple of Old Sports. The men’s names, Jack learned later, were John and Pat. This one was John. He sat down and asked Jack if he’d just come from France. Jack said he had. And the next remark sort of took Jack by surprise. “How would you like to earn ten pounds?” John asked him. John and Pat looked like a couple of old sports but just the same, ten pounds is a lot of money in Ireland. Jack said he’d make no answer until he knew what he had to do to earn the money. Then sporty old John unfolded as fantastic a set of conditions as ever he had heard in his life. “Two miles up the river,” John said, “there is an old deserted ab bey, undermined with caves. There’s a tower in the middle of it, about a hundred feet high. At the bottom of that tpwer is a room with l>a altar in it. The good monks used to pray there, but since Cromwell’s time the abbey has been abandoned, and now it is used as a burial place. Sentinels of the Ruined Abbey Were the Dead. “A£ the foot of that altar there are six human skulls. I want to know if you haVe the courage to go there tonight at one o’clock, get one of those skulls and bring it here to me tomorrow. That’s all SiSilp —. ,v».n % ~Vi V-T. Two Pale Yellow Lights Were Dancing About the Altar. % - y ■ you’ve got to do,” John said—and then he looked sort of queerly at Jack as he added, “There are no keepers or watchmen, and nobody will know what has happened—but the Dead.” But the Dead! Jack didn’t like the way he said that. But ten pounds was a lot of money. It would buy him many a pack of fags—many a bottle of cognac—when he got back to the front. He looked John straight in the eye. “Are you on the level?” he asked. “I am,” said John. “All right,” said Jack, “I’ll do it.” That night Jack took his service revolver and started for the abbey. He reached it about quarter of one. At one o’clock sharp he swung aside the rusty old gate and made his way through dank, dark passages to the room below the tower. Weird Lights Flash in the Abandoned Tomb. It was spooky in there with the moonlight showing through the cracks and casting weird shadows on the gray stone walls. For the first time in his life he found himself wondering if maybe there wasn’t some truth in ghost stories. He was walking toward the altar, when suddenly he saw something that froze him stiff in his tracks. Two pale yellow lights, about the size of plates were dancing about the altar. “My hair stood up,” he says, “and my courage ran out of me like water out of a bottle. A bat flicked my face, and I almost dropped my gun. Tremblings like a leaf I sat down on a grave and watched those lights dance. Then I coughed, and in two seconds I heard that same cough in another part of the abbey.” Jack walked firmly toward the altar. He wasn’t afraid of anything in the world now. There was only one light playing about now. The other was on his face. Sepulchral Voice Warns Intruder Away. He raised his gun, rested it on his left forearm and took careful aim at the beam that was shining in his eyes. He pulled the trigger twice. There were two sharp cracks—a terrible clatter of broken glass—a loud, reverberating echo. He thought, “Now is my time,” and bent to pick up one of the skulls. Suddenly a hollow voice said: “LEAVE THAT ALONE. IT DOESN’T BELONG TO YOU!” For an instant Jack began to tremble again. Hs put down the skull and picked up another. “LEAVE THAT ALONE,” the voice repeated. “IT DOESN’T BELONG TO YOU!” He picked up three more. Each time that warning voice. “But by this time,” says Jack, “I was getting mad. i shouted out, ‘To hell with you, whoever ycu are. They don’t belong to you either.’ And with that I picked up the sixth skull and walked toward the gate, firing right and left from my revolver till it was empty.” It Was Just a Merry Prank of John and Pat. If the story had ended there, Jack wouldn’t have believed it him self. Two or three times on the way home he pinched himself to see if he was dreaming. But the next day when he went with the skull to the pub, there were John and Pat. John’s right hand was in a band age, and he grinned and tossed Jack a ten pound note. “Pat and I had a hundred pound bet,” he said, “that no man would take a skull from that altar. When you took us up we both hid in the abbey. “We had two mirrors that reflected the moonlight, and that’s what made those dancing beams. But I didn’t figure on your shooting, son. You drilled me right through the palm of the hand. Anyhow, you won me a hundred pounds. Good-by, son, and good luck to you.” ©—WNU Service. “Bumping,” Boat Racing More than a hundred years ago the British evolved a type of boat racing which is peculiar to their own country. This is called “bumping.” It began in 1815 at Oxford and was later copied by Cambridge and other universities and schools. The reason for this type of race was that not many of the rivers going through college towns were wide enough for several boats to race alongside. The so lution was to develop some sort of single-file racing which would be fair to every boat taking part. History of Yarmouth The history of Yarmouth, south west gateway to Nova Scotia, is bound up in the history of the sea, and it goes back far beyond the days when white men began set tling in the new world in the Six teenth century, for at Yarmouth is a Runic stone, which scholars say was inscribed in 1001 by Lie* Erik- son. The inscription on this stone is interpreted as reading, “Lief tc Eric Raises” (this monument), Lief Erikson having dedicated it to his father, Erik the Red, ruler ol Greenland. For the Little Princess v.;.v \v>X\vK >x*XvXv>iv>^>; 1828-B The simplicity but irresistible charm of princess frocks ac counts for their undiminished popularity and appeal for those who sew, and this one will 'make an instant hit with the mothers of growing daughters as well as with the daughters themselves. Slightly fitted at the waist to ac cent the mild flare of the skirt, this pretty and petite princess Home LING to thy home! If there ^ the meanest shed Yield thee a hearth and shel ter for thy head, And some poor plot, with vegetables stored. Be all that Heaven allots thee for thy board. Unsavory bread, and herbs that scatter’d grow Wild on the river-brink or mountain-brow; Yet e’en this cheerless man sion shall providp More heart’s repose than all the world beside. —Leonidas. Contentment laughs at trouble. model goes together like a charm, the result of a minimum of effort and expense. Puff sleeves, a contrasting Peter Pan collar, and a row of small bright buttons down the front complete the picture. Daughter will love to choose her own fabric — a printed mus lin, percale, challis or sheer wool —and with a tiny bit of coaching she can make the frock herself! Send today for Barbara Bell Pattern No. 1828-B, available in sizes 4, 6, 8 and 10 years. Size 8 requires 2*4 yards of 35-inch fabric plus Ya yard contrast. Send 15 dents in coins. Send for the Fall Pattern Book containing 100 Barbara Bell well- planned, easy-to make patterns. Exclusive fashions for children, 1 young women, and matrons. Send 15 cents for your copy. Send your order to The Sewing Circle Pattern Dept., 367 W, Adams St., Chicago, 111. © Bell Syndicate.—WNU Service. Foreign Words ^ and Phrases ^ A merveille. (F.) Wonderfully I to perfection. Boul’-Mich’. (F.) A familiar corruption of the Boulevard St. Michel, a famous street in the Latin quarter of Paris. Coup d’etat. (F.) A sudden stroke of policy; a revolution. Demi-monde. (F.) The “half world”; women outside the social pale. Entremet. (F.) A dainty aide dish. Fiat justitia, ruat coelum. (L.) Let justice be done, though the heavens fall. Nom de guerre. (F.) Literally^ a war name; a pseudonym. Petit-maitre. (F.) A dandy; e fop. To kalon. (Gr.) 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