STYLE CREATORS, stage and movie producers and fiction editors have recently been credited with the discovery that romance and sentiment, which they thought had been sneered out of existence during the jazz and flapper age, are once more being yearned for by the public.
A ROUND Pat Ware’s uncle’s place would have been best, but they kept away from there. They finally went over to Turkey Sabin’s, where there were maples and a mountain ash and elms. The four boys, raking energetically, shouting orders at each other in the autumn early twilight, got together two big piles of rustling aromatic leaves, one for the fire and one for fuel reserve.
R. JOHN W. DAFOE is editor of a newspaper in Winnipeg called the Free Press, and sometimes has to read it. He has been there now for over thirty years and has been referred to as the Prophet of the Prairies, for which he has only himself to blame. He has also been described as the last of the great Canadian editors, but nobody on the Free Press knows who the others have been.
A CANADIAN school-teacher and newspaperman wrote the words of that perennially popular ballad: “When You and I Were Young, Maggie.” Maggie w’as one of his pupils when he taught public school. She became his sweetheart and later his wife. The romance that entwined the lives of George Johnson and Maggie Clark and gave birth to that imperishable lyric, is one that lends color to the story of Canadian poetry and deserves preservation.
I wandered to-day to the hill, Maggie. To watch the scene below; The creek and the creaking old mill, Maggie, As we used to long ago. The green grove Is gone from the hill, Maggie Where first the daisies sprung, The creaking old mill Is still, Maggie, Since you and I were young.
OH, IT’S terrible,” moaned Polly O’Moore, “to be in love with a man who doesn't even knowI’m a woman.” Across the surface of three desks, over the heads of three typewriters, she was looking at the imperturbable object of her anguish. Hard-as-nails Joe Dennis.
A CROSS THE PACIFIC lies a potential market for Canadian producers and manufacturers, the surface of which has barely been scratched. What are we going to do about it? What have we done about it to date? Mighty little! Talked a lot. of course, and even sent a trade commissioner or two to Asia; then, with smug complacency, settled back in our chairs to await a flood of orders.
THIS HAPPENED in the days when radio was young and a transcontinental broadcast was an event and not just an occurrence. For many weeks the mechanical staff had fretted, the studio manager had fumed and the publicity department had sweated.
MR. BRADFORD paused, obviously gauging to a nicety the capabilities of the broad-shouldered young man across the desk. "Nominally. Mr. Archer.” he proceeded, "you will be my secretary. But occasionally you will be called upon to deal with matters which are not strictly within the province of a secretary.”
WHEN WE SAY—and most of us have said it at one time or another—“They simply speak another language,” we never mean that the other person’s language is merely interestingly different from our own; we mean always that it is decidedly inferior; that we, in fact, to carry out the metaphor, converse in the polite accents of civilization while the other people communicate as well as they can by signs, grunts and gutturals.
AFTER the first Mass to be held in Collins Bay had been sung, I realized that a penitentiary is a place where emotions reach extremes. Devotion easily becomes the bedfellow of infamy, and fervor sits with hate. Yet I will always remember a certain convict who for a few moments became an acolyte and had his moment of sacred glory.
COMMUNISM, nothin’!” John MacNab. grizzled veteran of Northern construction, glared across the rough-lumber desk at his partner and office manager. "I was battlin’ such troubles, Alec Moore, before one of yer pen-scratchin’ tribe heard tell of a communist.” Moore eased a portly self backward in his chair and shrugged wearily.
TO LOOK down into the Latomia dei Cappuccini is like getting a bird’s-eye view of a flowering subterranean paradise into which some Titan in sportive mood had pitched innumerable boulders, many of them the size of a house. Here and there rise from the abyss huge unquarried columns festooned with ferns and shrubs, their summits reaching level with the surface of the surrounding country, while the floor of the Latomia is a hundred feet below it.
JAMES W. BRITTAIN is the youngest mayor Canada’s oldest chartered city ever had. He was forty-six when he walked away with the election last year and his life reads like a page out of an Alger book. Born on a farm because he couldn’t help it, ho left grade school because he didn't like it and has since showed a lot of college bright-lights how to make a success of life.
THE TRANSACTION between the Ontario Government and Aemilius Jarvis regarding the redemption of sterling bonds outstanding in England, of which the details were given in the previous article, came in for practically no criticism from the Oppositions—the Government at that time was honored by having two, ably led by Hartley Dewart and Howard Ferguson—except in one minor regard.
STOCKHOLM, Sweden, that city of interest, has something which, I think, we need in Canada. This is an outdoor museum. Many years ago Doctor Afzelius felt it was a pity that the quaint buildings, homemade implements and furniture, illustrating so well the needs and ingenuity of the early settlers, should be destroyed to make room for more modern equipment.
1. Egyptian sailboat. 5. Bert’s real name. 9. Boer regiment. 10. “—, foul fiend.” Get out! 11. Not every Tory is so tardy. 13. Lethargy. 14. Has many teeth but no jaws. 16. Help! St. George! 19. Pericles’ lady friend. 20. Scottish county, contains what Noah made.
WHEN WE SAY that we have inside information, we imply that, from some private source, we have learned the truth. Inside information is presumably reliable, and is more or less confidential as it comes from those who know. It is from the inside that we get reliable and early information as to any deviation from the normal in the workings of our bodies.
AFTER ALL, a stew is just what you make it. It may be a poor affair, weak and watery and discouraged. Or it may be a triumphant thing of full, rich flavor; a dish to do you credit. When I hear anyone speak slightingly of this royal compound, I am sure they have been the victim of poor cooking.
LEGISLATION usually reflects rather than anticipates public opinion, and the — new Federal Securities Act which went into effect in the United States a few weeks ago is no exception to the general rule. Public opinion, aroused by the flood of illconceived financing consummated during the Coolidge prosperity era, is responsible for this act, which aims at greater protection for the investor and goes much further than the state and provincial “blue-sky” laws passed since 1929.
Question—I have about $500 which I would like to invest. I would like to have it where I could get hold of it with a minimum of trouble. I want a safe investment yielding better interest than would accrue from a savings account. I had in mind a trust company or something of that nature.
Those who have received the "Key” to their planetary sections will find an installment of these sections below; further installments will appear in the next and following issues. These readings are Miss Marguerite Carter’s applications of the rules of Astrology as laid down in well known ancient and modern textbooks.
Astonishing is the response to our invitation to readers to submit Canadian Zig-Zags along the lines of the examples published August 15. The idea not only caught public fancy with a vengeance, but the quality of the humor is higher than we dared to hope.
Advice to the Lovelorn—When writing love letters to your girl, it’s always an act of precaution to begin: “My dear sweetheart and gentlemen of the jury.”—Vancouver Province. Are You an Expert?—The biggest dubs in bridge are the so-called experts.