KEN BELL made thousands of pictures as an army photographer during the war from the beachhead to Berlin. At the end of the fighting he was in command of the Canadian photographic unit which helped make the last war the best-recorded fight in history.
CAEN, France—It was early afternoon of a beautiful summer’s day. At low tide a spa, cious stretch of beach sloped from the yawning mouth of a broken German pillbox to where little waves from a placid sea ran onto the sand and gracefully collapsed.
Those flickering lights high in the northern sky aren't Red spy signals, but the inside scientific story of the fiery Aurora Borealis is just as startling
THIS SUMMER more Canadians than ever have noticed the Northern Lights, the Aurora Borealis. Vacationers in the north woods have often seen the whole sky glimmering and flickering with the red and green streamers of the aurora. And even in cities as far south as southern Ontario the glare of street lights has had to compete with this ghostly aerial illumination.
Big men and big deeds mark the stormy history of the Bay Company which has thrived on conflict. It has survived wars, exposes, cut-throat competition, booms and busts
AROUND Hudson’s Bay House, Winnipeg, the air-conditioned Canadian headquarters of the world’s oldest company, they call Philip Chester the modern Sir George Simpson. In turn, Chester calls Simpson Canada’s first merchandising genius.
SUNDAY is the day I have my stock answer ready, so when the footsteps coming along the dock stopped and a voice said, “Hi, Pop. Whadda you know?” I was ready for it. Not that I have anything against bandying pleasantries, but week ends there just isn’t time for it.
HAVE YOU ever entered the lobby of a large hotel in a large city in the evening? Have you noticed the women sitting about in the comfortable lounge chairs? You will notice that most of them are in the middle years, well-dressed and well-groomed, there are lines of disappointment and worry showing through the fastidious make-up, and they are alone.
From zany cartoons (“Bungle in the Jungle”) Impossible Pictures Inc. progresses to shooting films without film
WHEN Leonard Levinson sat down in a Hollywood office the size of a broom closet and said he was going to make a new and better kind of cartoon for one third the cost of the usual strip, the wiseacres snorted. “Alrsurd!” “Fantastic!” “Impossible!” they said.
Women in the wilds get treated like duchesses by the grizzled guys of the mining camps, but there's no movie on the corner
LAST SPRING I completed my third year as a “wilderness woman” in the northwestern Ontario mining district of Red Lake. My city friends still shake their heads, claim I am crazy; but they tell me they wish they, too, could throw off the pressure of life in Canada’s larger centres and head into my country where I catch trout in my back yard, spin around the lake in a small motor boat, or tramp through the woods, my two-year-old son in a packsack on my back.
At 17 Canada’s boy wonder swam his way into a fame that tore his life to shreds. Once offered a $250,000 movie contract, now he hasn’t got a dime — only a hidden heartache.
ROBERT THOMAS ALLEN
ON JANUARY 16, 1927, George Young, 17-year-old son of a Toronto cleaning woman, defeated 102 of the world’s best swimmers in the $25,000 Wrigley Marathon; he was the only contender to cross the 20-mile channel between Santa Catalina Island off the coast of California, and Point Vincente on the mainland.
FORESTER woke slowly. For a while he lay there, trying to identify this new feeling. A thing that was not new, really, hut the return of something known long ago and lost in time— but with a difference he couldn’t yet define. The sense he had was that of coming back from sleep to the knowledge of earned leisure.
Idon’t think there was ever another school, anywhere, like that one in the tiny village of Dalhousie West, N.S., around 1916. I don’t mean it was one of those quaint affairs that writers dream up who wouldn’t know a pollywog’s nest from a tapioca pudding; and we weren’t the proverbial barefoot boy, whistling as if he’d swallowed a bobolink.
Take an expert’s advice along when you buy that fall outfit. You can make your dollars go farther and still be well dressed.
SO YOU’RE going to buy a new fall outfit. Got some money laid aside? Fine. Now, for every $10 you’ve saved for buying clothing take away $2 and put it back in the bank. If you use the 10 shopping techniques outlined in this article, that’s how much you’ll be able to save on new clothes.
ANERLEY, Natal I can understand that many Canadians are puzzled and disturbed by what they hear about South Africa. It is my aim here to explain ourselves, to tell sufficient of our past history to explain our present, and to take a peep into the future.
THERE’S a village in Saskatchewan called Old Wives. It’s near Moose Jaw. (Wonderful names in this Saskatchewan!) This habit of the western pioneers of giving places names that mean something is still a delight to uncomplicated people with a love of folklore.
IF YOU save up a smart crack or a gleaming sentence until your dying breath you might become famous. Of course, you have to keep a Dictaphone at the ready. When you hear the last trump (be sure it isn’t a taxi klaxon) whip off your gem, and remember not to gum it up by asking what’s for supper.
THE porter for the Cherbourg-Paris Express straddled the aisle and glared at the U. S. sergeant whose baggage he had just lugged into the coach. “Du papier,” he demanded, waving the quarter tip the sergeant had given him. “Donnez-moi du papier.”
IN 1880 George Bernard Shaw was employed by the Edison Company in London, England. I read this in a biography of Edison. If I could get this confirmed by Shaw himself, I thought, I’d have his own comment on an interesting sidelight of his career.
After reading “Doesn’t Anybody Like Kids?” (July 15) ... I think the reason people do not like children is because in this day children are smarter than the average parent . . . We have friends with one son Freddy, aged 10. If we go for an evening of cards he will ask to take the place of one or the other, “for just 15 minutes,” which will terminate one hour later . . . Even at age two, he had them buffaloed . . . —Mrs. Jeanne Williams, Horseshoe Bay, B.C.
Or Doesn’t Wear—A typically uninhibited California woman went for a drive à la nude recently. The police were indignantly notified by a number of ladies, but nary a man. Which all goes to show that men never notice what a woman wears. — Edmonton Journal.
HUNDREDS of Torontonians clapped hand to brow recently, convinced the hot. summer sun had at last been too much for their sanity, when they spied a car driving north through town which actually bore U. S. markers and a pair of skis lashed to the roof.