TWO-MINUTE
BIOGRAPHIES
SENATOR CARTER GLASS
Just turned eighty, Senator Carter
Glass of Virginia is a peppery, out
spoken “rebel" from New Deal
ranks. Despite his advanced age,
Glass overflows with nervous ener
gy. Seemingly gruff, he is really
warm and kindly. He is no longer
proud of the Federal Reserve Bank
act which he fathered because, he
says, “the government now owns
6,000 of our banks.” Mr. Glass has
been in public Washington life 35
years. Today, for the first time, he
says “we no longer have a de
mocracy.” He further bemoans the
failure of modern inventions to
bring happiness. He was born the
son of a newspaper man and is still
one, owning the paper at Lynch
burg, Va. Mr. Glass quit school
at fourteen to become a printer's
devil, rising to editor-in-chief of the
Lynchburg paper by the time he
was thirty. In Washington he spent
two years as secretary of the treas
ury under President Woodrow Wil
son, going to the senate in 1920.
President Roosevelt ranks him as
one of the administration’s most ar
dent critics, a designation Mr.
Glass enjoys. “I will remain an
‘unreconstructed rebel’ until the pol
icies under which the government
is now being run are changed,” says
Carter Glass as he starts on his
eighty-first year of life, confident
that he will remain on the Wash
ington front many years to come.
Earning ‘Blood Money’
1A strange way to make your liv
ing is by selling blood for trans
fusion purposes. Donors must be
in perfect health, and are listed at
“agencies" under their particular
blood grouping, getting $7 for every
100 c.c.’s of blood. Donor and re
ceiver must be in the same group
ing. Above, the actual process.
_ -7
■"■■■■ ■ . ... ■■■' '
Unique Library
Wins Popularity
As Living Room
By BETTY WELLS
WHEN they built the new house,
Alice insisted that they must
have a knotty pine library. It was
a nice idea, although Alice didn’t
mean to confine its use to reading
by any means. So her problem
was to bring this room into the
general scheme of family living,
first, to vindicate herself and then
to show that an extra room of this
sort was practical and pleasant.
On the practical side she tried 1
subtlety, and it worked! She made
this little pine room into a modern
version of the “back parlor”—you
know the room that used to be used
for evenings en famille, saving the
front parlor for big occasions. Of
course, Alice makes no hard and
fast rules, yet by furnishing this
little room comfortably and gayly
she has succeeded in diverting a lot
of wear and tear here. Then she’s
discovered that the smaller room
is grand for those evenings when
she and her husband like to sit at
home, he with a pipe and paper,
she with needlepoint or knitting.
How has she furnished it? To
start with she decided that the wood
tones of the walls were the best
part of the room, so she completely
covered the floor with a soft pile
rich brown carpet that would play
up to the walls. The sturdiness of
the wood tones suggested a seal
ing-wax red leather chair for the
lord and master of the house, while
Milady is content with a deep
lounge chair in soft beigey material
fringed in brown.
In recessed book shelves she has
placed books with gay bindings, and
when the original covers of the
books didn’t seem quite bright
2 Only perfect specimens of man
hood are accepted as donors. The
slightest organic trouble means dis
qualification. Below, even throat
and teeth are scrutinized.
enough, she recovered them in col
ors to suit herself. Here and there
among the books she has placed in
nocently gay peasant figures in pot
tery. And a small table, the pine
desk and the wide window sill hold
brass bowls and pitchers, adding
highlights for the wood tones.
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PETER RABBIT FIGHTS
WITH HIMSELF
THAT’S a funny thing to do—to
fight with yourself—isn’t it? But
that is what Peter Rabbit did—
fought with himself. Yes, sir, Pe
ter fought with himself, and it was
a hard fight. You know, that kind
of fighting is the very hardest kind
of fighting in the world. You see,
it was this way: Peter had been
lucky, very lucky. He had started
out to follow Busy Bee from the
Green Meadows to her storehouse
in the Green Forest, and almost
right away he had lost sight of her.
f f -:
Then he knew that just by chance
he had found the storehouse of Busy
' Bee.
But he kept on deep into the Green
Forest, wandering this way and that
way, until he had grown so tired
that he just had to sit down at the
foot of a big tree to rest. And as
he rested he had heard a humming
sound way up high over his head,
and it sounded as if it came from ,
inside the great tree. When Peter
looked up he saw Busy Bee and all
her relations coming and going
from the little hole way up near
the top of the tree. Then he knew
that just by chance he had found
the storehouse of Busy Bee.
How Peter's heart did leap! He
did a little joy dance all by him
self, with no one to see. just be
cause he was so tickled. "Now, said
Peter to himself, “I will tell Bus
ter Bear, and he will be so pleased
that he will always be friendly to
me, and I need never be afraid of
him any more. They say he loves
honey better than anything else in
• " ■ ■ .... ■ . i
the world. I'll hurry and tell him
as soon as I can before anyone
else finds this storehouse and gets
ahead of me.”
Peter started off, lipperty-lipper
ty-lip, as fast as he could go to
look for Buster Bear, but he had
gone only a little way when he
stopped suddenly. He had remem
bered what Bumble, the cousin of
Busy Bee, had said when he had
asked him to tell him where Busy
Bee’s storehouse was. Bumble had
been indignant, very indignant. He
had hummed and buzzed angrily.
He had said some very sharp
things to Peter about people who
went about making trouble for oth
ers. Peter had gone home to the
dear old Briar Patch and thought it
all over and had made up his mind
that Bumble was right. It was a
dreadful thing to make trouble for
others, and he didn’t want to do
anything of the kind. But that was
before he had found the storehouse
of Busy Bee. Then it had been
easy to make up his mind that he
would do nothing like that. But
now—well, now it was different.
First he scratched his long right ear
with his long left hind foot. Then
he scratched his long left ear with
his long right hind foot.
“I don’t know that Buster Bear
will make any trouble for Busy
Bee,” thought Peter, and hopped
on a few steps.
"Yes, you do, too,” said a small
voice inside, and Peter sat down.
"If I don’t tell him, someone else
will,” thought Peter, and started on
again.
"Perhaps no one else will find the
storehouse,” said the small voice in
side, and Peter stopped hopping.
"Someone is sure to,” thought Pe
ter, once more starting on. "If they
do it is no business of yours,” said
the small voice, and Peter sat down.
"I’m going to tell!” said Peter
fiercely, and began to hurry faster
than ever.
"You’re not, either! You couldn’t
be so mean,” protested the small
voice, and just as before Peter sat
still.
Now, all this time that Peter had
been fighting with himself he had
been too busy to watch out, and so ;
he did not see the crafty face of
Reddy Fox peeping out from behind
an old stump just ahead of him. j
Reddy was grinning wickedly, for he
saw that Peter for once was not
looking for danger.
© T. W. Burgess.—WNU Service.
, AMAZE A MINUTE I
SCIENTIFACTS — BY ARNOLD
Hot springs of Arkansas/
Nearly a million gallons
Plow daily from s,
A6> HOT SPRINGS AT AN AVERAGE /V
TEMPERATURE OF l42°P.
v .JS3&?7|
Spic and span —--y ■—•—
^EFFICIENCY- //,// '/// /////
Food does not " L ^ ''/'/s'
COOK AS EASILY IN ~
BRIGHT POTS AS IN
TARNISHED TIN
POTS, SINCE
THE LATTER
RETAINS
**™ER The wh|TE
REELECTS MENACE -
heat. Health studies '
SHOW THAT ONE MILLION
CHILDREN HAVE TUBER
CULOSIS.
3 Every 30 days donors are required to produce a negative Wasserman
blood test. Above, a donor from a New York agency reports to
Unity hospital where another test establishes his blood grouping. Cells
of donor and patient are matched and cross-matched before the trans
fusion. Transfusion, once a phenomenon, is now a routine process.
INTO
THE
MARCH
WINDS
Away rides Eleanor Powell,
talented M-G-M star, in her
smart new bicycle suit of pearl
white bengaline. Miss Powell's
large hat of imported straw is
blue and white, trimmed with a
single red apple beneath the
brim. A red bow tie repeats
the color. Dolly Tree designed
the suit and the hat is by G
Howard Hodge.
Tloyd
ADVENTURERS' CLUB
HEADLINES FROM THE LIVES
OF PEOPLE LIKE YOURSELF!_
“W hale Overturns Boat’*
By FLOYD GIBBONS
Famous Headline Hunter
Hello everybody:
Stick close, boys and gals. We’ve got to make a long
trip today, and we don’t want anybody to be lost, strayed or
stolen. We’re popping off for the South Seas. Down there
where they do say, the gals wear grass skirts, and men dive
down into the water and choke sharks to death.
There’ll be some sharks in this story, too. It comes from an old
salt who sailed the briny deep in the days when they had iron men and
wooden ships. He’s Alfred Stuart, of Jersey City. A1 is up in the seven
ties now, but he recalls mighty well the adventure hehad almost half
a century ago. I get a big kick out of these yarns from the old timers.
Some day I’m going to slip over to Jersey City and just sit down with
A1 Stuart and swap adventures with him.
He shipped on a whaler out of New Bedford, Mass., with a crew
of mostly Portuguese sailors, a tough-egg captain, and West Indians as
officers. Everybody was a partner on the trip, because the crew re
ceived a share of the profits, and were all pretty tickled when they
picked up several small whales.
The captain was out for big game, though, and he sailed round
and round in the whaling zone, looking for more prizes. It’s a long
way from New Bedford to the South Seas, and the captain didn’t
want to start back without picking up everything they could find.
They Harpooned a Big Bull Whale.
He was so insistent about it that once he gave the first mate a raking
over the coals for not stick'#g with a whale after nightfall A1 had
harpooned a fairly good sized catch, but when it got dark, they had just
“flagged” the whale and rowed their dory back to the ship. The cap
tain had bawled out the mate before the whole crew.
“Very well, sir,” the mate said. “It won’t happen again.”
Well, it wasn’t long after that, they spotted a great bull whale, one
day about dusk. Here was a beauty, and the boat was lowered to go
Men Went Hurtling Through the Air.
after him. A1 was up in the bow, and as they approached the great sea
monster, he made a ten strike with his harpoon.
The big steel prong struck deep into the whale’s back; then a second
was hurled into almost the same place, just ahead of the “hump.” Then
the fireworks started. That whale was what A1 calls a “runner,” not
a fighter. He started off like an express train for points distant.
They gave him practically all the line they had, and he just
jerked that little boat around the South Seas like a wrecking car towing
a baby carriage. The dory bobbed around like a cork, and plowed
through the waves so fast that the spray nearly swamped it. After
several hours, the whale slowed down a bit. They took in the slack line.
The mate got out the bomb gun and took a pot shot at Mr. Whale, and
was getting ready to let him have another, when the big boy decided to
dive.
Down he went; straight down, with everybody hoping he’d
change his mind before he pulled the little boat under. Down,
down. The line was almost at its limit. Everybody was stand
ing tense.
Smashed the Boat to Bits.
A Portuguese sailor stood by with an ax to cut the line when it
became taut. With a few more feet of its seventy-five fathoms to go,
the line slackened.
“Watch him now,” yelled the mate. “He's coming up!”
There was nothing they could watch for. It was now dark as pitch,
md there floated that little band of whalers trying to penetrate the inky
night, straining their eyes for a sight of the whale.
Then, suddenly, bang! Crash! Their little craft was thrown
completely out of the water. Men went hurtling through the
air. The whale had come up directly beneath the boat and tossed
it up as though it had been a toothpick. It cracked in two, almost
amidships, and the pieces whirled in the fierce eddies as the
whale thrashed about.
The men managed to reach the stern half of the boat and to hang
on for their lives, fearing all the while that the whale might crash it
to tinder by another slap of his immense tail. And then, another, even
more terrifying menace faced them. There was a swish in the water
nearby.
Sharks Were All Around Them.
“Sharks,” shouted the mate. "Everybody tread water!” Everybody
started pumping his legs up and down like a reserve football player
warming up. And they treaded water for hours.
In the gloom of the night, they could hear the soft swish of water and
faintly see the sinister dorsal fins as sharks nosed close to them. More
and more of them. Exhausted men desperately kicking out at unseen
dangers. It seemed the sea was literally alive with sharks.
Slowly the dawn broke over the eastern clouds. And there, not
fifty yards away was the whale floating on the surface. He was dead
But around him the water was seething with the fins of sharks, making
a meal of the great hulk.
“That’s a big piece of luck for us,” was the mate’s com
ment. “If it hadn’t been for that whale near us, we’d all have
been shark meat long before this.”
The ship finally picked up the boat's crew, but it was almost noon
before they did it, and most of the men were half dead from exhaustion.
You can’t stay in the water and keep on kicking for eight or ten hours,
even in the South Seas, without feeling it right down to the bones.
They towed that whale in, and it yielded 120 barrels of oil, and that’s
some whale. Incidentally, A1 Stuart got two of that monster’s teeth,
and he says they’re eight and three-fourths inches long and weigh two
and three-quarter pounds. How would those babies be for a watch charm’
Copyright.—WNU Service.
Beauty in Glass
It has been well said that glass
more than any other form of handi
work shows the individuality of the
craftsman. The glassmaker of old
created products which expressed
his own conception of beauty. But
no longer does he shape and turn a
piece of molten glass on the end
of a metal tube into a thing of ex
ceeding beauty. The technique of
glass blowing has so completely
changed that it may almost be con
sidered a lost art..
I
Aloes, Medicinal Plant
Among the Greek physicians,
aloes was a most important me
dicinal plant. Centuries earlier, the
idea of binding fresh plant leaves
of various kinds on burns or other
wounds was a favorite of Egyptian
surgeons. Homeric heroes bound
up damaged skin in the same way
with herbs and oil. Roman expedi
tions found the savage Germans
adept in the art. European set
tlers in America learned from the
candy is customarily used.