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THE SUN, NEWBERRY, S. C, FRIDAY, MARCH 8, 1940 By DREW PEARSON and ROBERT ALLEN WASHINGTON. — Amiable little Harry Woodring has won the New Deal record at side stepping a resigna tion from the cabi net. But the time may soon come when he will get the substitute job which he wants. The last tone Roosevelt ap proached Harry with the idea that he might want to trade his present job of secretary of war to become an ambassador. Woodring replied: “No, not that job, Mr. President. I don’t want to go to Rome. But I would be interested in going to the court of St. James’.” Joe Kennedy The President pointed out that that post was not open. “Yes, I know that," said Mr. Woodring, “but you and I know that Joe (Joseph P. Kennedy, now am bassador to Great Britain) never stays long at any one job. He’ll be leaving there soon. And meanwhile I don’t mind waiting.” Whereupon, Mr. Roosevelt’s ge nial and tenacious secretary of war got up and departed, leaving the President half amused, half flab bergasted. Volatile Ambassador Kennedy. For the President knew that Har ry Woodring was right; Joe Kennedy does not remain too long at any one job. In fact, just a few weeks after this conversation took place. Secre tary Woodring almost got the very wish he had expressed. For after the appointment of Sum ner Welles as peace envoy to Eu rope, the British announced that all their files would be placed at the disposal of Mr. Welles; he could read everything they had; nothing would be kept secret. This set off the fireworks. “Now just where does that put me?” roared the explosive Ambas sador Kennedy, while on vacation in the United States. “You would think I had just been pouring tea over there in stead of working my head off. If they think they need a special ambassador over there to get all the British se- erets I failed to get, they can count me out.” This was what Harry Woodring Kennedy re marked to some of his friends. And he did almost as well when he talked to the President. Roosevelt, however, calmed him down; said that he was indispensable in Lon don. So Woodring will not get the job of ambassador to St. James’— at least not yet. • • • Note—Real fact is that Ambassa dor Kennedy does have access to British secrets. In fact Chamber- lain is extremely frank with him, and the general consensus in the Roosevelt administration is that the United States seldom has been more capably represented in London. Roosevelt is most anxious that Kennedy continue. SOCIAL SECURITY VAGARIES If congress would take time out from its political antics to examine toe hundreds of letters pouring into toe social security board, it would uncover some extraordinary facts about toe much-touted old-age pen sion system. It would learn, for example, that while the complicated social securi ty law is barring tens of thousands of needy oldsters from pensions, it is also putting a premium on de ception and dishonest pensions. The system requires that aged persons should have earned $50 in wages in half the quarters since January, 1937, before they can re ceive a pension. Since most work ers near 65 have been unemployed and cannot get work, they are auto matically precluded from pensions; in other words, from the very pur pose for which the law was passed. But while honest oldsters are left out in the cold, smart or crooked ones find no trouble in getting pen sions. By the simple process of having a relative or friend give them a fic titious job, they make themselves eligible for an annuity. Here is one case of this kind which came to the attention of the board. An oldster went to a friend ly employer and on the promise to pay the required taxes got the em ployer to certify him as a worker. For a total payment of $9 since 1937, he thus became eligible on January 1 for a $15 a month pension for the remainder of his life. Another case was that of a re tired millionaire, living in Florida, who was put on the payroll of the family firm as a vice president and will soon begin drawing a monthly pension of over $60. Kathleen Norris Says: Wives Who Constantly Complain Become Pests (Bell Syndicate—WNU Service.) “When you have a husband who sleeps until the very last moment” she said, “and rushes through breakfast, nothing you can say affects him” By KATHLEEN NORRIS ALMOST any woman would be very much happier if someone I A. else was just a little different. Usually it is several someones else who make the trouble. Her mother-in-law, her children’s teacher, her kitchen assistant, her friends at the club all fail her in various small ways. She spends a good deal of time wishing they would see things as she does. As for the husband and the chil dren; well, their faults keep her nervous and fretful. She spends countless hours in trying to make herself beautiful, but she forgets the worried little frown that is perma nently between her eyes. She wants to be considered a woman of cul ture, a woman other women envy, admire and secretly copy, but she never thinks of the tones of her rasping, critical, dissatisfied voice. In a New York bus the other day I sat next to a well-dressed woman of perhaps 35 or a little less; she had met a friend and she was tell ing the friend all about matters at home. “My dear, when you have a hus band who sleeps until the very last moment,” she began, “and then rushes through breakfast, nothing you can say affects him! I scold untU even the boys are .taking George’s part, but what good does it do? He simply goes on scram bling through the paper. The chil dren stop eating, of course, and then their breakfasts are cold. Per haps some women can get their children to concentrate on eating when they’re at the table; I never can. Who are they with this morn ing? Oh, his mother. I never leave them with Carry, she has a beau and her one idea is to keep her hair curled and one ear on the tele phone. Not that she ever gets a message of mine straight. “George’s mother is a darling and the children adore her. But she is a real farmer’s wife, and she drops all her ‘g’s’ and says she’s goin’ to lay down, and the children pick up her expressions, of course. She spoils them, too, Junior always cries to go back with grandma when she goes. A Stupid Day Ahead. “Where am I going? Well, I’ve got the stupidest day ahead of me that you can imagine. In the first place I'm taking that hat back. I left the tag in, but you know how they are about changing a hat. Then I’m going to the Lost and Found bu reau, I’m still convinced I left that purse at the glove counter. After ward the dentist; my filling came out. I do think they could put in fillings that would stick, and I’m going to tell him so. Then Larry’s shoes, he goes through a pair about every six weeks, and then I pick up George. He was to have the car fixed and he didn’t—trust George!— so we have to go out to the club with the Greenwoods; and even if she was my bridesmaid, that giggle of Harriet’s simply gets me down. I ought to have had my hair done, I’m a sight—” We had reached her comer; I heard no more. But I had heard enough to know that living with this woman, despite her pleasant appear ance^ and her evident devotion to home, husband and children, would be heavy going. She wanted every one to change, apparently it never occurred to her that she herself is the one who should change. She never really has faced the fact that her husband, being a hu man being, has minor faults. He is late; he is hurried; he is negligent. If he wasn’t these things he might be a martinet who fretted her to death about details and hammered DON’T BE A PEST When there is trouble within the fam ily circle it isn’t always the husband’s fault, according to Kathleen Norris. Friend husband may have his faults, to be sure. But after all—he’s only human. And a human without faults, just wouldn’t be a human. Sometimes it's the little wife who must make a few changes in her man ner of living. Check-up and find out where the trouble is. Don’t just keep blaming it on someone else all happiness out of his children’s lives. She doesn’t know that all elderly women, unless they are social auto mata, get a trifle slipshod in gram mar as well as in house shoes, and that spoiling grandchildren is one of the legitimate rewards of a moth er’s life. She Is the Real Pest. She won’t concede that a “gen eral” servant, a young creature who washes dishes and sweeps floors and answers the door and the telephone, has a right to be pretty and to en courage a sweetheart, and that if this girl was the mental force that her employer evidently expects her to be she wouldn’t be working in anyone’s kitchen. The little flaws of dentist, sales woman, old friend, the loss of a purse, the delay in repairing a car, the sturdy wear a small boy gives his shoes—all these and a thousand other matters she exaggerates into serious troubles; her shrill complain ing voice makes so much of them that in the end she herself becomes much more of a pest than any of these annoyances, or all of them put together. Seeing her go off on her compla cent, competent way; pretty and brisk and with a head full of plans and a purse full of money, I won dered what sort of drilling through marble it would take to convince her that she herself is the person to change; that a little common sense and self-control on her part would make the difference between dark and dawn to husband, mother-in- law, house-maid, sons and friends. What an amazing surprise for them if suddenly Jean became an altered woman! If lenience and good nature took the place of that eternal criti cism and impatience. If th'» nerv ous comments stopped, and an ami able tendency to live and let live took their place. If Jean began sim ply to make allowances for Carry’s young vanities and giddiness, for Junior’s stamping little 'eet, for George’s absent-mindedness, for grandma’s indulgences to the adored grandsons. Husbands Won’t Change. For husbands will continue to gulp breakfast to the end of time. Den tists will sometimes insert fillings that don’t stay in. Friends will gig gle, or develop some other trying trait. Maids will decline to become deeply and passionately absorbed in the welfare of the family that is pay ing them $35 a month, to the exclu sion of all other interests. Purses and rings and tickets will get lost; repairs on the car will take longer than the garage man originally sus pected. Why not take all these things as the inevitable little roughnesses of living in the complicated and im perfect world of today? The aston ishing thing is that matters aren’t infinitely worse. It’s only the very fortunate women of the world who can afford to carp at these trifles. For the more real and the more desperate our troubles grow, the more silent and heroic we women become. T OS ANGELES.—I read recently •*—' that Old Mose Grove had signed his contract with the Red Sox. That’s Old Mose’s sixteenth major league contract. He signed his first one with the Athletics away back in 1925. He was 25 years old then and had come up to the big show after five years in Baltimore. The late Jack Dunn had kept him in Baltimore for five years be cause in those days toe Orioles ruled the International league as the Yan kees rule the American league now. It was good business for Jack to hold onto his ball players for a few years. They pulled in the crowds at the turnstiles, they won pennants and Little World Series—and the longer they remained in Baltimore the more eager the major league club owners were to buy them and the bigger the price they brought. Jack Bentley—Joe Boley—Max Bishop—Grove—all brought box car figures when Dunn, one of baseball’s shrewdest traders, sent them to market. Grove brought $100,600. I don’t know what the $600 was for. Amusement tax, possibly. Offered to McGrow At the time the story was—and so far as I know it may have been true—that John McGraw had turned Dunn down when he offered the big left-hander to the Giants. That happened in 1925. The price was $100,000—with, perhaps, a little off for the Giants. But McGraw wasn’t paying $100,000 for a pitcher in 1925. He had just won four pen- Grantland Rice MOSE GROVE nants in a row—thereby cracking an all-time record for the major leagues —and it looked as though he might go on from there. So he wasn’t in terested. At any rate, that’s the story. The Yankees’ Cousin Meanwhile, Dunn had some sort of agreement with Connie Mack that called for him, in the natural course of events, to send his better players over the short line from Baltimore to Philadelphia and in the spring of 1925 Grove arrived at the training camp of the Athletics. He was young, eager and tireless. He had a strong back and a rubber arm. But he wasn’t a pitcher. He was a thrower. He won 10 games in 1925, 13 in 1926 and 20 in 1927. Those were the years in which he was a first cousin to the Yankees. In toe ball players’ argot a cousin is a pitcher that the hitters like to face —and there wasn’t a pitcher in the American league the Yankees liked any better than Grove. All they had to do was to wait him out—or hurry him—and then slug him. As he acquired poise, he became more effective, not only against the other clubs but against the Yankees as well. His figures in the victory column mounted. He won 24 games in 1928, slipped to 20 in 1929, rose to 28 in 1930, and to 31 in 1931. He won 25 in 1932 and, although he dropped to 24 in 1933, he led the league again—as he had in 1928, 1930 and 1931. In the winter of 1933 he was sold to the Red Sox for $125,000. In 1934 he had trouble with his arm and won only eight games while losing as many—and it was right after that that he became a real pitcher. He was forced to out-think toe bat ters, and in doing that he became one of the greatest pitchers in the history of baseball. Learning How to Pitch The time had come when he had to do more than just rear back, stretch out and whip that fireball at the hitters. The old blaze had died out in his fast ball. He couldn’t fool the hitters with it any more. He had to do something he hadn’t done be fore. He had to stop and think— to study the hitters and develop a curve ball, a change of pace ball and a slow ball and brush up on his control. And when he had done all that, he was a pitcher—a real Bitcher. GENERAL JOHNSON Jour: U-ludtatiM W WSl S—~™. ROOSEVELT’S THIRD TERM I believe that Mr. Roosevelt will be nominated and elected for a third term. I have said this more than once here and elsewhere. Every time I say it publicly, I get a lot of indignant fan letters from people who agree with me—at ’east in being very much opposed to a third term for any man. The com plaint is that this is “defeatism”— almost treason In the first place, to be either a “defeatist” or a “traitor,” you have to owe somebody an allegiance for which you are fighting. I shall fight as hard as I can against a third term for Mr. Roosevelt, but I be lieve that a column that tries— sometimes not very successfully—to —“and we thought he didn’t talk much.” —Cartoon by Burck in Chicago Times. be a fair comment on events and actions in general—hasn’t any busi ness tying up with any favorite to the exclusion of any contrary com ment, at least until the issues are drawn and there is no other thing to say except “yea” or “nay.” In this view it is neither “defeat ism” nor “treason” to say that I believe Mr. Roosevelt will be our next President—if that is my opin ion—which it is. As to his nomination—does a majority of the Democratic party desire it? Decidedly not. In Dixie there are curses not loud but deep. Southern democracy has been the stepchild of the New Deal. It threatens white political suprem acy. It has taken the South’s two- third rule away from the nomina tion. Its farm policy is ruining toe for eign market for cotton. The South has received the lowest per capita handout for “recovery and relief.” They are now only a minority without a veto in the convention. They must get on any band wagon that really starts to roll, or read themselves into the outer dark. In the election, the South will vota Democratic as usual. What do politicos like Frank Hague in New Jersey and Chicago’s Boss Nash care about Mr. Roose velt and his New Deal? They care principally for its hand outs—but that is enough. Less powerful politicians are somewhat in the same category. You could count the really con vinced and zealous New Dealers in the senate on the fingers of one hand. If you were Siamese twins you could count all there are in both houses of congress on your fingers and toes. But here again the vast New Deal political and patronage ma chine controls political attitudes if not political thinking. These are the gents who decide on toe delegates and pick men of their own type. \/hether or not he raises a finger, or even permits his name to be used, most of these men will not vote against Mr. Roose velt. Some boy orator will arise at sometime in the convention with a cross of gold and a crown of thorns speech and it will be all over except the shouting—which will last for two hours. • • • WASHINGTON’S TIMES Washington is increasingly being appealed to as an authority. Yet somebody said recently that his tones were nearer to Julius Cae sar’s than to Franklin Roosevelt’s. This referred, of course, to the tremendous increase in human knowledge and conveniences since our beginnings compared with the whole of history before. This kind of statement is usually a preface to an argument that, since conditions are so different the leaders of our earliest days can’t be too much re lied upon now. To the extent that modern gov ernment and laws must conform to modern conditions, that is undoubt edly true. Nobody more clearly recognized that than Whshingtoa. That was the way he got his big start and changed the whole sys tem of law and government to a new one by revolution. But the principal reason for his unmatched success was that he al ways kept his feet on the ground. His was not the quarterback theory of government. »/lsk Me Another 0 A General Quiz The Questions 1. What are the catacombs of Paris? 2. Is it true that each star in our flag stands for an individual state? 3. Why is the Arctic ocean so named? 4. Where is the largest jail in the world? 5. How did the word colony orig inate? The Answers 1. Vast excavations extending under the city, formerly subter ranean quarries which furnished building material for the city. 2. No, the stars collectively represent the 48 states of tha Union. 3. “Arctic” k from toe Greek arctos, a bear, toe reference be ing to the northern constellation of the Great Bear. 4. The largest jail is in Ward road, Shanghai, with accommoda tions for more than 7,000 prison ers. 5. The Romans made settle ments of men to cultivate the soil, these being known as colonla; hence the origin of the word col ony. HELLO, AMERICA/ HOPE YOU'RE ENJOYING SLOW-BURNING CAMELS AS MUCH AS WE ARE HERE IN ANTARCTICA. CAMELS SURE GIVE THE 'EXTRAS' IN CIGARETTE PLEASURE! f VERNON BOYD of the U.S. Antarctic Expedition T AKE a tip from the men of die U. S. Antarctic expedition com- r. anded by Rear Admiral Richard E. Byrd: When it came to cigarette^ the expedition took Camels. Camel* born slower...give you more pleasure per puff and more puffs per pack. 5 ;***** 'smoke* re* peck. FOR EXTRA MILDNESS/ EXTRA COOLNESS/ extra FLAVOR— CAMEL