We have been the happy recipients of your excellent magazine for the past three years. This has been made possible by the kindness of a brother of mine in Regina, Sask. There is not a similar publication of its kind at home here, and in consequence it is read and enjoyed by all the family.
THE CLOSING of this number of Maclean’s has been coincident with the closing of a personal chapter in its history. H. Victor Tyrrell is dead. In forty-four years’ service, he rose from a printer’s case to be Vice-President and Managing Director of The MacLean Publishing Company, Limited.
IT ISN’T a bit incongruous that Gil Tucker, flying hero of “Green Geese,” the serial which opens on page five of this issue, should be an ex-jockey. Bishop, Barker and McLeod, three of Canada’s greatest aces in the first World War, were expert riders who went to the air force from the cavalry.
Across Canada's vast Arctic sky line bush fliers blazed a spectacular wartime trail — Then came Nazi trouble
THE WAY little Gil Tucker strutted into our Bee-Lines Limited Winnipeg head office that Saturday morning reminded me of a bantam rooster I saw once on Flo Fenton’s uncle’s farm. No bigger than a runt robin, either of them. The bantam on the farm ignored the henhouse and lived in the truck garage that had a door ten feet high by twelve wide, and every time he went in or out of the ten-foot door he played safe and ducked.
LONDON, May l (By Cable). As the month of May opens its account the ponderables and imponderables of the war situation are blown about like leaves in a gale. What is the truth, what is really happening, where does conjecture end and certainty begin—above all, what is going on within the borders of the Third Reich?
IF A SCANDINAVIAN trapper in the Fort St. James wilderness of British Columbia hadn’t cooked such a tasty mess of beans a couple of summers ago, the British Empire would have far more cause for worry today because of a shortage in mercury, vital to manufacture of munitions.
IT WAS just half past four on a Tuesday afternoon, in the library of Ann’s father—a local banker, stout, with high coloring and a sharp temper—when Ann Dexter asked Seymour to marry her. She did it quite simply. “Seymour,” she said, setting down her coke glass, “I want you to marry me.
When Hitler started his war against women and children he didn’t expect the kids would hit back
A. P. LUSCOMBE WHYTE
THE LUFTWAFFE was putting the blitz on Greenock. The Scottish town shook to the blast of high explosive bombs, fires flared where incendiaries fell in showers, flying shell splinters filled the streets. Dashing through it on his bicycle went seventeen-year-old Robert McCullum, on duty as a Civil Defense messenger.
WHAT PRICE freedom? — Prime Minister King, freed by the plebiscite from his “no conscription" commitments, had cause to ponder the answer during the weeks following the vote, may have cause to ponder it still more in weeks to come. For already the price of Mr. King’s “freedom" has been (1) the resignation of one of his ministers, Mr. Cardin; (2) the threatened resignations of two other ministers, Defense Minister Ralston and Navy Minister Macdonald; and (3) possibility of a revolt among his Quebec followers.
Canadian trains, lake ships, motor trucks, planes are moving more war freight, more people, than ever before
GUY S. CUNLIFFE
THE CLAMMY grey of early dawn was just beginning to filter across the sprawling melange of tracks and cars and engines in the big railway yard on the edge of Montreal. The batteries of floodlights reared at strategic points around the yard were still flinging their garish beams to light the work of the switching crews.
Her man was gone—and in Dell Gavin’s dark eyes as she tackled the hazards of a tough woods job there flamed a challenge to all men
BERTRAM B. FOWLER
IN ALL of Dukesboro County there was no woman who envied the life of Dell Gavin, living and doing for old Saul Gavin. Dell was a late child and an only child. She was a leggy young thing, awkward and shy, when Ma Gavin died and she became the woman of the house.
Judith Evelyn used to wow 'em in Moose Jaw as the Butterfly Queen — Now she gets top billing in New York
A YOUNG woman brought up in Canada has been the theatrical toast of New York during the current season. Her name is Judith Evelyn and the play in which she has made such a resounding success is the hit melodrama, “Angel Street.” Her story is more than the story of an actress who became famous overnight.
THE STRIKING characteristic of wartime shipping on the Great Lakes is that, in the main, its operators are handling the greatest lake tonnage in history with the same ships they had ten years ago. On the upper lakes the vessels which were built in places like Midland, Collingwood and Port Arthur from the start of the century to 1926 or thereabouts, carry the load now.
Festival Overture (William Schuman): National Symphony Orchestra, Hans Kindler, conductor (Victor 18511 two sides). The most popular work of this up and coming American composer receives a splendid dishing up by a splendid bunch of musicians.
Check Artists—Some people are so busy checking up on the amount of work other people do, that they fail to realize how little they accomplish themselves. — St. Thomas Times-Journal. Ho-ho!—Kid who gets fifty cents a week for looking after a potato patch nearly had a fainting spell when he heard that the government had banned garden hose.
RECENT excavations made with a gravel bucket in the bed of the Bow River adjacent to the Inglewood Golf Club at Calgary have turned up something new in the way of pay dirt. The place is a ruhher mine. Working on a reopened ditch cut across the river’s floor, employees of Jefferies and Sons, contractors, are hauling out dozens of used tires and inner tubes with every scoop.