Washington Tribune
Saturday, June 1, 1929
Washington, D.C.
Page text (machine-generated)
Illustrated FEATURE SECTION Washington Tribune
The HOLDEN ROBBERY by WALTER GLASTON
HARLEM GENIE BY AUBREY BOWSER
Interesting,
Entertaining
and
Instructive
BEN DAVIS, JR. Feature Editor
The HO
ROB
by WALTE
By WALTER GLASTON SYNOPSIS
The Holden Fur Company, a reputable concern, has been mysteriously robbed of five chinchilla coats valued at $100.-000. The coats were placed in a vault at 5:00 o'clock in the afternoon, of March 18th. The next morning when the vaults were opened the coats were gone.
The shop doors were locked and equipped with burglar alarms and the watchman had been found to be a very dependable fellow. One of the back windows was broken in and investigation revealed that someone had been on the roof. The police, after five days on the case, have failed to find a single clue.
Nobody can explain how the robbery was committed. Only two people know the combination of the safe and both or these have iron clad alibis.
Donald Darrington, the great race detective having augmented his fame by the quick and decisive manner in which he disposed of the Browning murder was called in immediately. He begins work and learns that Mr. Alvin, president of the Holden Company, was absolutely trustworthy.
He then requires each of the Fur Company employees to write a detailed account of how their time was occu-
HARL
pied during the night of the robbery. He then requested Johnson, the Negro porter, to show him over the entire place very hurriedly. During this time he questioned him.
NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY Questions Johnson
Turning to Johnson he snapped out quickly, "Do you gamble? Shoot craps or play the races?"
"Why, yes sir," the astonished and perturbed porter replied.
"Who else gambles in here?"
"I understand Mr. Timothy plays the ponies occasionally and so does Mr. Speed. Me and Speed sometimes plays a little game o'cards during lunch hour."
"You and Speed pretty
Section 2—Saturday, June 1,1929.
"Put 'em u
Darrington
box—the
the next u
friendly, eh?"
"Oh, yes, Speed's a fine fellow. Ain't got a bit of prejudice. Some sheik, too."
"Got plenty of gals, eh?"
"Yeh, he oughta have—he's got a swell car and always seems to have plenty of jack on him."
"Uh-huh. Now, tell me, Johnson, do you help in the shipping department?"
"Yes, sir, that's part of my work."
"Do you clean up here at night or in the morning?"
Timothy Irregular.
"I usually clean up at night. Everybody 'cept Mr. Timothy leaves at five o'clock and by five-thirty I've finished with my sweeping, clean-
ENIE By AUBREY BO
, "and turn are
tell what you
—you're going
ed the washbowl and am usually pulling out. Mr. Timothy usually leaves when I do although he sometimes stays longer."
"On the afternoon of the 13th of March, where were the chinchilla coats before they were put in the safe?"
"They were in the show room next to Mr. Alvin's office."
"Who brought them to the vault?"
"I brought 'em from the show room and put 'em in the vault. Mr. Alvin and Mr. Timothy was standin' by the back window talking, and they saw me. Mr. Speed was standin' there washing his hands."
handsome and cynical and vowed "never faithful, independent, like him. Yet,—well
He was young, handsome and cynical. He had been stung once in marriage and vowed "never again." She was a modern girl, beautiful, independent, and irresistible. They met—she did not like him. Yet,—well, read this story.
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d turn around." "Now listen, what you did with that other we're going to be in prison for
"Then what happened— who locked the vault?"
"Well, I had put all the other furs in the vault and I asked Mr. Timothy should I lock it and he said 'Yes'. So I slammed the door and shoved the handle over."
"Did you turn the dial?"
"Ir-a-why, yes sir, yes sir, I'm sure I did. I always do, you know."
"Did you have any conversation with anyone after you locked the door of the vault?"
"Let me see . . . Oh yes, Speed started kiddin' me an' I think he told a raw joke while he was wiping his hands."
(Continued on page nine)
e and cynical. He had been stung
bowed "never again." She was a
independent, and irresistible. They
m. Yet,—well, read this story.
ing Next Week
Clean,
Wholesome
and
Refreshing
NOW WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?
IF THAT GIRL FINDS ME IN HERE
SHE'LL THINK I'M A THIEF -
OH, WHAT SHALL I DO?
I KNOW! I'LL SET
THE CURTAINS ON
FIRE THEN I'LL PUT
IT OUT FOR HER!
HELLO MISS, I WAS JUST
GOING ALONG THE ROAD AND I
SAW A FIRE IN HERE SO I
JUMPED IN TO PUT IT OUT!
HOW
WONDERFUL!
NOW YOU
MUST STAY
AND
HAVE SOME
PIE!
MY NAME IS
CLEOPATRA
THEY CALL ME 'BIG TIME'
CHARLEY, AND BELIEVE
ME LADY THIS IS THE
BIGGEST TIME I EVER
HAD!
ARTHUR
DANE
THIS INTERESTING COMIC APPEARS WEEKLY IN THE ILLUSTRATED FEATURE SECTION.
Smuggling Abyssinian Slaves
Two "healthies
They seem happy, tho the slave traffic may envelop them at any moment.
Two "healthies" who bring high prices at the slave mart.
ARE people still being led shackled into slavery? It seems incredible and yet it is true. Not only does slavery still exist in many African and Asiatic countries but actually the slave trade is not an unprofitable business. In an effort to put a stop to the traffic, the League of Nations is gathering information every day and bringing pressure on various governments. The trade in human chattels, while forbidden by the laws of almost every country, still goes on. Abyssinia, the greatest independent Negro state in the world, today has
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2
LAST WEEK
'BIG TIME'
TRIED TO
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PRETTY GIRL'S
WINDOW SILL
BUT HER
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over two million slaves. The Emperor Ras Tafari is trying to abolish it, but he is finding it a difficult job. The nobility of the country are averse to giving up this great wealth.
There are hundreds of thousands of black slaves in Arabia, in the provinces of Hasa, Koweit and Oman. They are smuggled over from Abyssinia and the Anglo-Egyptian Sudan. Many of them die by the wayside during the long trek to the Arabian slave markets. As a consequence the price is very high, a good strong slave bringing from $600 to $800. Almost every
ways know what to do. Crude and harmful methods will never appeal to you. Go prove this for your own sake. It may save a great many disagreeable hours.
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ILLUSTRATED FEATURE SECTION
household in Arabia today has several black slaves stolen or bought from the nearby coast of Africa.
Many of the warlike Bedouin tribes of the Sahara Desert make raids into the Negro settlements on French soil for the purpose of getting slaves. Often they succeed.
The French government is said to be doing everything to stop the traffic but has not been able to put an end to it.
It seems that Africa is so vast and the number of soldiers and police so small in comparison that in some sections there are vast stretches without surveillance.
Through these the slave raiders filter into the seats of population, seize their unhappy prey and dash out again.
As roads and railroads are ex-
THE
UNKNOWN
QUANTITY
A
Thrilling True
Story
In This Issue
Page 7
ME" PULLS A FAST ONE
HOW WONDERFUL! NOW YOU MUST STAY AND HAVE SOME PIE!
MY NAME IS CLEOPATRA-
THEY CALL ME 'BIG TIME' CHARLEY, AND BELIEVE ME LADY THIS IS THE BIGGEST TIME I EVER HAD!
ARTHUR DANE
RATED FEATURE SECTION.
"BIG TIME" PULLS A FAST ONE
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---
June 1, 1929
tended, enabling the police to cover much greater distances, a stop will probably be put to this 20th Century African slavery.
Between 1810 and 1840 the Negro population almost doubled.
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Cetewayo, the Heroic Zulu King
"Myself and everyone of my men will die first, and I give you until sunset to get out of my territory."
Armed Only With Spears and Knives, His Men Inflicted on the British the Most Crushing Defeat a Skilled Army Has Experienced at the Hands of a Dark Race in Modern Times. In One Skirmish He Defeated and Killed the Prince Napoleon, Heir to the French Throne.
June 1, 1929.
Cetew
"Myself and everyone of my and I give you until sunset territory."
Armed Only With on the British the Has Experienced ern Times. In O the Prince Napo
By J. A. ROGERS
Noted Writer
Cetewayo, King of the Zulus, was the hero of the greatest little war that England has ever had.
Armed only with spears and knives his men inflicted on the British the most crushing defeat that white men have experienced at the hands of any portion of a dark race in modern times.
His victory at Isandlhwana was marked by one of the most terrifying slaughters in the annals of warfare.
In one skirmish he defeated and killed the Prince Napoleon, heir to the French throne. It took England over a 100 million dollars in our money and her ablest general to cope with this Negro king.
Of course, all of this sounds like romance although it happened less than fifty years ago.
But wait until you hear what a Zulu warrior was like.
**Zulus**
Of all peoples on earth the Zulus possessed and still possess the finest and fittest physiques. In this respect they are the incarnation of the ancient Greeks. J. H. Balmer, well-known African traveler, says:
"The Zulus are the physical superior of other races. A male Zulu has the strength, endurance, and body of a prizefighter in the pink of condition. Their shoulders are broad, their chests deep, their waists slim. Their women are the strongest females propagated."
Cetewayo's army was composed of the pick of this pick of the human race. Each warrior was six feet in
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height or over. And there were from thirty to forty thousand of them.
Enchantment
A white American woman visiting Zululand, says that while out walking she met a Zulu, and so great was the physical force he radiated that when he passed she felt as if she had been overthrown by "a wave of power." The Bible and Greek mythology tell of giants whose tread shook the earth. When Cetewayo's army marched the earth trembled under its barefeet.
Rigid Discipline
A warrior's outfit consisted of a shield of dried ox-hide, two or three spears, and a short blade for stabbing. As to clothing he wore only a loin cloth. Discipline was of the most rigid kind. There was one penalty for disobedience or neglect of duty: death. When ordered to active service a warrior knew he must conquer or die, for certain death awaited a beaten army. He who ran or showed fear in battle was instantly cut down by the man behind him. No mercy was shown nor any expected. According to Col. Browne who saw service against the Zulus, a Zulu warrior could march thirty miles a day; and if need be, fifty, and give battle at the end of the day.
Greatest of Armies
Not since the days of ancient Sparta had the world seen a body of fighting men comparable with that army of Cetewayo's. And Cetewayo needed this army to protect his kingdom—the kingdom he had inherited from his grand-uncle, Chaka, himself a mighty conquerer and the founder of the
ILLUSTRATED FEATURE SLOTION
Zulu nation.
The Boers, or Dutch settlers were encroaching on his territory and acting treacherously. Years before, to escape British persecution further south they had migrated into his land and had been welcomed by his uncle, Dingaan. Later, they became so odious that Dingaan was stirred to order a massacre of them.
Aroused Opposition
Now British colonial politics did not view Cetewayo and his army with too friendly an eye. But its policy has always been to divide and conquer so Cetewayo was allowed to keep his army. It was an excellent thing with which to frighten the Boers, their rivals.
Besides the British felt that they could easily handle Cetewayo. They felt pretty sure that when the time came all that would be necessary would be to march into his territory with a few field-pieces and machine guns, press a button or two and presto! his army would disappear. They took care to see that even shot-guns were kept out of his reach.
In time the Boers surrendered their republic, leaving the British a free hand in South Africa except for Cetewayo, whose presence now took on quite a different aspect. From being a tool, he was now a menace. The Boers, now British subjects, must be protected.
Getaway Tricked
Having no love for the British, but deciding to use them, the Boers laid claim to a part of Cetewayo's territory, and began to settle on it. Cetewayo drove them away. The British, called in as arbiters, decided in favor of Cetewayo, but seizing on
the opportunity, began to scold him about affairs in his own kingdom. For instance, he had banished the missionaries because they had been plotting against him, and meddling in his national affairs. One of them had written a letter to the governor of Cape Colony, declaring: "Only the utter destruction of the Zulus can secure peace in South Africa."
British Demands
The British also made several demands, among them being: that Zulu warriors should be permitted to marry, and that Cetewayo should permit a British Resident—a sort of official spy—to live in his capital. And then as if to crown all they demanded the disbanding of his army. Never, perhaps, was man more surprised than this Negro monarch. Here was a judge after deciding in favor of the plaintiff, proceeding to lecture the plaintiff on his personal affairs—affairs that had not become before the court. As Miss Colenso, Cetewayo's ardent defender, among the whites, said, he was treated as if he were a child, instead of being the head of a nation.
When the British demands were brought to him, there was but one thing for Cetewayo to do and he did it. Rising from Lis throne to the magnificent six feet four of his height, he flung his defiance at the white envoys:
"Myself and every one of my men will die first. I give you until sunset to get out of my territory."
Early in January, 1879, the British, under Lord Chelmsford, 12,000 strong, invaded his land at three different points. On the 22nd, one of these columns composed of 1000 whites and 2000 blacks, under Col. Durnford fell in with a Zulu army 10,000 strong.
Battle Rages
And then began a battle that will go down in history as one of the greatest epics of all time. The Zulus, as was their custom, began the battle by encircling the foe. In the front were the young warriors, behind them, the veterans. The British, entrenching themselves, behind their wagons, opened fire with their artillery and machine guns. The Zulus, armed only with spears, came rushing on, shouting their battle-cry, while the guns mowed them down in windrows, as stalks of wheat
before a reaper.
But charging madly home to death or victory the gallant black warriors pressed grimly on until they reached the barricade. Then leaping over they gave the enemy a taste of what fighting at close quarters and with equal weapons meant. Next morning when Col. Browne, one of the scouts, wandered on the scene he beheld a sight such as few human beings have ever witnessed
What a Slaughter
A vast silent field of dead, God of battles, what a slaughter! Six thousand five hundred warriors lay there! There were no wounded. The Zulus had killed the entire British force, all but forty-two, who escaped by swimming their horses down the stream.
Of the Negro warriors, 3,500 lay dead not to mention the wounded which had been carried off.
"In their mad rush," says Browne, "the Zulus had killed everything, even the horses, dogs, and mules. There were heaps and heaps of Zulu dead; where the machine guns had mowed them down they lay in heaps."
In addition the Zulus had captured 40,000 cartridges and the rifles of the British.
Zulus Terrify
At the news of this crushing defeat the whites in South Africa were in consternation. They saw themselves sharing the same awful fate. They cabled to England for aid, and that same week 15,000 soldiers under Lord Wolseley with the latest equipment left for the Cape. Among the volunteers was the Prince Napoleon, son and heir of the recently deposed, Napoleon III.
A few days later Cetewayo again defeated the British at Rorke's Drift, and laid siege to Etshowe. He followed it with another victory at Inahlobane, the nature of the ground being in his favor.
In August, 1879, the British, now strongly re-inforced again, invaded Zululand. With a force of 15,000 Lord Chelmsford met Cetewayo and his 25,000 warriors at Ulundi. Strongly entrenched behind their ammunition carts and wagons, the British opened fire at a range of 1000 yards. (Continued on Page 10)
No.14---What Is Your Natural Talent? By DR. M. N. BUNKER, D.C.S. Nationally Known Grapho-Analyst.
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Fit at Sixty!
REMEMBER Ponce de Leon and his fruitless quest for the fountain of Youth? Far more fortunate today are thousands of men and women who at fifty, six ty, even seventy are still young inside. How have they preserved their vigor and enthusiasm? Simple, when you know their secret. PERUNAL This good old internal medicine contains IRON—also roots and herbs that help bring back glowing health and vitality. Stimulates digestion, purifies the system, revives sluggish organs and muscles . . in short, makes and keeps you fit. Try one bottle. See if its bracing effects do not change your
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"What am I good for?" This is a question that has just come from one of our man readers. 'I have been trying to teach school but somehow I just don't like it. My pupils all seem to like me well enough but somehow or another I want to do something else? Does my handwriting show any signs that I have any ability? Can you tell me what to do?"
machinery is very none of the work Arthur Meers
As I study the handwriting of the letter which this man wrote me, it is easy to know exactly why he is not satisfied in the school room. He is not a teacher, he is a mechanic. Give him the tools to make a fine watch, or to do careful accurate mechanical work, and he will not find the hours too long, or the work too hard. This is because he will love his work. This man can make a good mechanical dentist, because he is just as accurate and skillful in the use of his hands, as such a man must be. He must be perfect in his work—and this man's writing shows that he will be exactly that.
You may have some mechanical talent, and if you do, your handwriting will show it. If you examine your own writing you may not find that it is exactly similar to that of Arthur Meers, but that does not mean that you lack mechanical skill. However, if your writing is like either one of these specimens you may be sure that you have fine mechanical talent that should be cultivated.
Charles P. Steinmetz
Study the signature of Charles P. Steinmetz very carefully. He was the most outstanding electrical engineer
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COMIC
blues
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‘Wringing That Thing’
Vocal Duet ~ Tampa Joe ~ Macon Ed
‘Worrying Blues’ ~ Sung by Macon Ed
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The recipes printed in this column of the Illustrated Feature Section have been tested and approved by culinary experts. Fi these recipes and you will soon have a complete list of new and delicious dishes.
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1 package lemon flavored gelatin
1 pint boiling water
$ \frac{1}{2} $ teaspoon salt
$ \frac{1}{2} $ teaspoons vinegar
Shake of cayenne pepper
$ \frac{1}{2} $ cup beets, cut fine
$ \frac{1}{2} $ cup raw carrots, cut fine
$ \frac{1}{2} $ cup raw cabbage, cut fine
$ \frac{1}{2} $ cup celery, cut fine
Dissolve flavored gelatin in boiling water. Add vinegar, salt and cayenne pepper. Chill. When slightly thickened, stir in beets, carrots, cabbage and celery. Put into individual molds. Chill until firm. Serve on lettuce with mayonnaise. Serves 6.
this country has ever had. He rose from poverty to the greatest place in his field, not because of "pull" but because he cultivated and used his natural talent. You have some natural talent. It may not be for mechanical work. Instead it may be for the stage, or for an artistic career, but no matter what, your handwriting tells the story, just as completely and accurately as it does in the case of Arthur Meers or Charles P. Steinmetz.
YOU MAY HAVE A PERSONAL REPORT MADE OF YOUR HAND-WRITING IF YOU WILL WRITE A PAGE, USING PEN AND INK. A STAMPED AND ADDRESSED ENVELOPE FOR REPLY. BE SURE TO ENCLOSE THE STAMPED ENVELOPE. FOR LETTERS WITHOUT THIS WILL BE DISCARDED.
C
Is There Love at First Sight?
Have you a puzzling love affair on which you need friendly advice? Write to Julia Jerome, care of this newspaper. If you wish a personal reply please send a stamped, self-addressed envelope.
Julia Jerome
A young man in Chicago asks a very old question.
My dear Mrs. Jerome:
fore, does not always mean love. mutual attraction can be just vision and not love. But, I repeat mutual attraction is the first toward love. You seem so hilarious happy and happiness is so beautiful that I do not want to throw water on it by cautioning you to w
Do you believe in love at first sight?
A week ago I met a young lady who is beautiful and charming. I'm not so bad myself and we are both sure we want each other. And since we do, why shouldn't we marry even if our friends are skeptical and laugh at us? I know it was love at first sight though I often hear people say that there is no such thing. What do you think?
HAPPY LOVER.
Yes, I believe in it. Rather, I should say, I believe in attraction at first sight and this feeling properly cultivated will lead to love. Of course, everyone has a different conception of what love is. But I fancy that love is a relationship which makes the couple happy. Passion, there-
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fore, does not always mean love. And mutual attraction can be just passion and not love. But, I repeat, mutual attraction is the first step toward love. You seem so hilariously happy and happiness is so beautiful that I do not want to throw cold water on it by cautioning you to wait. I will, instead, caution you to be considerate and understanding after you marry. You will certainly have quarrels—they can be just a healthy work-out—they can be sordid and tragic. If you will keep your sense of humor and not indulge in feelings of self-pity when your wife-to-be does something that hurts you, quarrels can help you rather than hinder you in finding and establishing a great and lasting love. But if you are the kind of man who takes himself too seriously you'll have a hard time of it. The new idea of companionate marriage is a modern attempt to meet just such situations as yours. But since society has not given this form of union sanction yet go ahead and marry. Your enthusiasm is worth the chance.
A woman with long hair, wearing a white dress, is depicted in a sketch. She is holding a small object in her hands and looking upwards. The background is plain and dark.
The Strange Life of African Pygmies
A man in a wide-brimmed hat stands with his arms outstretched, flanked by two children. The man is taller than the children, and the children are smaller. The background is a plain, light-colored surface.
Typical African Pygmies of the Ituri Forest. Note their comparative size. The man in the center is of normal height.
June 1, 1929.
Typical African Pygmies of comparative size. The man
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Here, folks, is a tale of a strange and peculiar people. The African Pygmies of the Ituri forest are strange because they are the least known of the several tribes; peculiar because Nature has deigned that they grow only to a height of three or four feet, at most.
Nature Halts Growth
At birth, a Pygmy baby is the size of any normal child, then for a few years they seem to grow tall and thin like the sun-starved vegetation around them. But at a certain age Nature halts this and they broaden out and develop tremendously heavy shoulders, torsos and long arms for their size.
Science's favorite theories in respect to their dwarf stature are malnutrition and sun-starvation—the sun hardly ever penetrates into their dense forest home—but however true this may be with pygmies in other parts of the world, these reasons do not appear to have anything to do with the growth of these Bambute Pygmies, as they are sometimes called. They are a happy, healthy, well nourished little people; amazingly free from the awful diseases which are so decimating to many other African tribes.
These little people are so much in demand as African curiosities that enterprising "Chiefs" seek and form exhibit partnerships with the less timid of them for the benefit of kodak carrying travelers, who make the proposition interesting for all concerned with gifts of salt and tobacco—two of their extreme weaknesses.
But our little pygmies are hard to do business with. A sort of sixth sense tells them that they are being sought—and they are—and they do not choose to let any grass grow under them. Except for the times when they make excursions to friendly tribes to barter meat for palm wine, another of their weaknesses, they roam here and yonder through their vast forest home in quest of such choice venison as, fresh killed elephant, dead monkey, winged ants, or nice juicy caterpillars—and safety from too friendly strangers. They don't like strangers. As they go from place to place they take care to use their various "charms" in such a way to be absolutely immune from all death-dealing demons of the forest—doings of their witch doctors.
ILLUSTRATED FEATURE SECTION
The Sun Hardly Ever Reaches Their Dense Forest Homes, Yet They are Amazingly Free From the Tropical Diseases of Other African Tribes. They Remain the Smallest People on Earth Despite the Fact That They Have the World's Greatest Appetite for Elephant "Steak."
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But even so, they do lapse into settle-down moods at times. For instance, when a poor elephant stumbles into one of their big-hole in-the-ground traps the mood comes down upon these little folks all at once. For such a happy discovery is followed immediately by loud dress-up parties and orgies of feasting—all of which makes it imperative that they settle down in one place for a few days.
Here is a close-up of the little
pygmies at their jolliest. Right away the little band of wanderers indulge in a series of screams—nothing less—and prancing around the caved in hole. Yes, sir, they celebrate. Then this rite well performed, all hands turn too and clear a place in the woods for a temporary village. There are no slackers. Men, women and children, young and old—everybody hustles. And in a surprisingly short time there is a clearing surrounded by a number of little huts, crudely made by drawing a few
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saplings together and covered with phrynium leaves—bee-hive shaped, they are.
**Dress Elaborately**
But this is only preliminary, so to speak, for they will then spend whole hours painting grotesque patterns on their little naked bodies and faces with clay or soot mixed with fat. Then it is on—the elephant party. It must be a perfect scream!
Suffice it to say that with their weird dancing, hunks of more or less raw elephant meat and large quan- (Continued on page eight)
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5
Follow the Results Each Week in the ILLUSTRATED FEATURE SECTION
Ballot, No Signature
No Obligation—Just
of your choices—Ma
newspaper.
This is important as it will rev
ion as to its greatest benefacto
Write plainly the name of each
dicated below.
Ballot, No Signature, No Condition, No Obligation—Just write the names of your choices—Mail at once to this newspaper.
This is important as it will reveal the race's own opinion as to its greatest benefactors.
Write plainly the name of each of your choices as indicated below.
The individual in your state who has contributed most to the progress of the Negro race.
The individual in the entire United States who has contributed most to the progress of the Negro race.
You may also write the name
your state on a separate sheet
out this form. Forward it to t
vote will be counted just the s
In order to tabulate by states,
state here
Announcement!--New
results of the Poll
Unwritten Page
A LITTLE BIT OF
By RALPH MAY
Brilliant
You may also write the names of your 2 choices and your state on a separate sheet of paper with or without this form. Forward it to this newspaper and your vote will be counted just the same.
In order to tabulate by states, write the name of your
Announcement!--Next week the first results of the Poll will appear.
Unwritten Pages of History
A LITTLE BIT OF HUMOR
By RALPH MATTHEWS
Brilliant Satirist
THE MUTUAL ATTRACTION BE-
TWEEN THE SKY-PILOT AND
THE BARNYARD FOWL
(Continued)
In trying to get at the root of this
momentous question just why clergymen have a peculiar weakness for
the befeathered biped that holds such an enviable place in the feastive cir-
cles an ingredient of pot pies we have traced the development of the Ameri-
can Negro through the bondage stance to the Civil War and now see his
revealed in all his glcry as a fr man.
At this period he is starting out
make a place for himself in the wor-
and we will now review the results
unskilled labor
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ure, No Condition,
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reveal the race's own opin-
actors.
each of your choices as in-
has
s of
nited
t to
names of your 2 choices and
meet of paper with or with-
to this newspaper and your
the same.
tes, write the name of your
Next week the first
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Pages of History
T OF HUMOR
MATTHEWS
Ant Satirist
oles an ingredient of pot pies we have traced the development of the American Negro through the bondage stage to the Civil War and now see him revealed in all his glory as a free man. At this period he is starting out to make a place for himself in the world and we will now review the results of unskilled labor. The Ante-Bellum preacher was a lion among men possessing the shrewdness of a fox and the tenacity of a bulldog and although there were many black sheep in the flock they were all followers of the lamb. Now all we need to turn this into a circus menagerie is an elephant because they already dwell in the tents of the Lord and there is a barker out front yelling "Get on board all the little children and listen to that heavenly band."
When the war came to a close the government had two major problems on its hands. What to do with the soldiers who did not get shot and what to do with the slaves that had been set free. They finally decided to do nothing with either.
The South started a general housecleaning which ended with the whites taking all of the sheets and cutting them up into Knight shirts and forming the Ku Klux Klan and the Negroes taking all the carpets and turning them into suit cases and heading for Washington. These became known as the carpet baggers.
The halls of Congress began to ring with the oratory of black statesmen during these dark days of reconstruction and the echoes of split infinitives can still be heard along the corridors. A stain was caused when these senators would sleep during the sessions and rest their heads up against the walls which would leave a grease spot. This became known as the first Oil Scandal.
No chronicle of the times would be complete without this historical incident which had a lasting effect upon the nation and gives a keen insight into the great characters of this period.
A certain senator was impeached for stealing a load of potatoes, which merely goes to show that politicians of that time did not have the high aims of the officeholders of today who would not have been satisfied with no small haul like a load of potatoes. As he entered the judgment room the judge asked if he was the defendant. "No," answered the senator. "I am the gentlemen who stole the potatoes and I plead not guilty."
"Do you know the price of an
ILLUSTRATED FEATURE SECTION
The Strange Life of African Pygmies
(Continued from Page 5) tities of palm wine, they sure make whoopee! The only speck in the milk is the resultant hangover, the thing that causes them to settle down for a few days of honest-to-goodness home life—like Gypsies. The little ladies?
Dress as "Mother Eve"
W-e-l-l, they are rather uninteresting little persons. They wear the same tpye of garments Mother Eve did, lead very henpecked—rooster pecked, rather—lives. The little men are hard on them. Severe sometimes.
In compensation for this hectic existence, however, there are probably no women on earth who marry and raise families with less household cares and worries. You can count the household utensils on one hand, a finger sometimes. Always on
oath?" asked the judge.
"Yes," said the senator, "Four dollars, that lawyer gave me two dollars to swear to one thing and this lawyer gave me two dollars to swear to another."
This is merely related to show the caliber of men who steered the ship of state during this period and this is one of the reasons that there aren't any colored admirals in the United States navy today.
About this time there came a move to return the slaves to Africa. This failed for two reasons, first there were no provisions made for a provisional president and second there was no Black Star Line and Negroes would only patronize race enterprises just as they do today. Another reason for the failure was that they tried to colonize Iberia, but there wasn't much sense in sending Negroes to Africa to establish a Liberary. They then began to build universities to improve the minds of the Negroes and this became known as the Universal Negro Improvement Association which grew in import until Garvey was found guilty and made an export.
So anxious did the Negro become to obtain an education that many worked their way thru college by giving blood transfusions in hospitals. There came a wane when so many died from exhaustion trying to take a postgraduate course. This gave rise to the belief that education weakens. While we confess that as yet we have not thrown much light on the subject just why preachers are so fond of chicken yet we are paving the way with these tid bits of history so that when you swallow this choice morsel of misinformation it will not cause a severe case of acute literary indigestion. It won't be long now, as the monkey said when he cut off his tail in an effort to ape the chimpanzee. (To Be Continued)
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How long the Pygmies can evade captivity, which would be too bad for the theatre-going public, is hard to say; but it is to be hoped that the great forest which they love and which has been their home for unknown ages may continue to be an impregnable refuge.
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WHEN THE WORLD IS AT REST
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A MODERN STORY
IN 2 EPISODES
'(Est. 1901-25 years of satisfaction)
The Unknown Quantity
Here is a Tender, yet Exciting Story With a Climax That Holds You Breathless,—a Truthful Account of One Girl's Dangerous Attempt to Revolt Against Out-worn Conventions.
June 1. 1929.
UAVE and genteel with skin like golden sunshine and hair of ebony blackness that lay in
L
soft waves above a forehead as smooth as a woman's, that was Walter as I saw him first. I was crossing the park on my way home from high school. It was a warm afternoon in early May. The passion of spring was in my blood and in the air. I wanted to loiter but I knew that I dared not. Mother was adamant when it came to the matter of my getting home on time from school. Already I had used up almost all my margin of minutes out of the twenty which, to be perfectly fair about it, was amply sufficient to walk the six blocks between my home and the school.
"I beg your pardon?" A thrill ran through my whole tensed young body as the handsome stranger rose with an elaborate bow. I paused involuntarily on the narrow bridle path in front of him. He smiled at me. I thought it the most winning smile the lips of man had ever produced. Hot blood mantled my brown cheeks and coursed through my veins like lambent flame. I could not speak. My emotions held me dumb. Only a tremulous little smile quivered on my lips and in my eyes. I was so impressed by the romance of the chance meeting that I did not stop to think of the danger of what often befalls young girls at the hands of strange men.
I felt his dark eyes scanning my round young body. It was almost as if I stood naked before him. Soft though his eyes seemed, yet there was something so keenly penetrating in the quality of his gaze that they seemed to strip my flimsy garments from me as they travelled leisurely from my flushed face down through the transparency of my chiffon blouse over my young adolescent torso. The casual but thorough scrutiny over (it took only a brief instant for the whole thing though it takes many words to tell of it) he went on speaking.
"Could you direct me to a good restaurant?" his voice was soft and musical. It beat against my heart strings and set them throbbing to the tune of the sunlight and romance of spring. "I am a stranger in your little city." He paused, waiting, the intoxicating smile still on his lips.
The park was deserted but for him and me. In Oakdale there was no one to lounge in the park at three o'clock in the afternoon. Everybody was busy but the people down on the river flats and they never came up to the park. Their business was
ILLUSTRATED FEATURE SECTION
A
His next words were like an answer to a prayer, it seemed to me. "Do you ever go to the city alone? I would like to have you meet some of my friends who would vouch for my — intentions. You see, I realize, that you must be careful. All young girls must be careful of strangers." "Ah, I knew he was a gentleman," I thought to myself. Photograph by Paul Henderson
largely nocturnal so they slept in the day. For the rest we who lived in the town proper knew very little about them and so long as they kept their nefarious business and unwholesome selves to them selves the respectable families of Oakdale paid them very little attention. So it seemed perfectly natural that this dazzling stranger should accost me for information. "You can get meals at the hotel." I ventured timidly.
"Yes, I know," he smiled again, indulgently it seemed to me. "But I thought maybe there was a restaurant where I might get a lunch between hours. You know they only serve meals at the hotel at regular meal hours. I will have to wait almost two hours till five o'clock and I am rather hungry."
Hunger? I had never
ILLUSTRATED FEATURE SECTION
SHE MEETS A STRANGER
thought of hunger in connection with such a perfect being.
"There is the bakery," I said hastily ashamed of the shortcomings of my home town. "They serve ice-cream sodas and things like that at the bakery. And you can get nice lunches from the delicatessen. They are both in the same building over there." I pointed across the park to the corner of Main and Broad streets. A very large and distinct sign boldly broadcast the name "William Bates and Son—Bakery and Delicatessen."
I passed it every day to and from school. Billy had graduated only the year before. I was two years behind Billy in school although he was four years older. He used to carry my books for me from the time I started to
grade school, the year after the measles had kept him out of school for almost a whole year, until he finished high school. Even now I saw him almost every day. Everybody in Oakdale teased us about each other. But—that was just a joke. Billy wasn't a bit good looking. He was nice enough though, and everybody liked him. However I was like the most girls I wanted a handsome prince —almost without regard for who or what he was.
"Why, that's just fine," he hesitated for a breath and his eyes flashed a quick look over my face, "Wouldn't you like to have an ice cream soda with me?" I choked and stammered over my reply. A sudden panic of indecision gripped my confused senses. I wanted to say yes more than I had
7
ever wanted to say anything in my whole life, but—there was mother to think about—mother was so—so—unreasonable. Herotion of young people's behavior was terribly old and silly. Yet—I didn't dare question her authority. I wasn't exactly afraid of mother; she had always been sweet and gentle with me but also she had always been stern and her anger was not to be ruthlessly dared when once that sternness was aroused. Billy, too, he would wait on us if I went in there for a soda or anything else and Billy would be sure to tell mother if I came in with a stranger. Mother liked Billy and he would just naturally think that this godlike being was a friend of of ours. He would never understand that just meeting a man in the park was sufficient introduction for a girl to go to lunch with him.
The stranger seemed to sense my dilemma. His tones were soothingly understanding when he spoke without waiting for a reply.
"I think I understand," he said, "Your mother, probably, or your friends might not understand that our meeting was purely casual and wholly innocent. Well, some other time, after we know each other better. I hope we SHALL know each other better—soon. There was something thrillingly suggestive of the romance that I had so long yearned for in his voice on the last word.
I blushed and tried to smile back at him. But my heart sank. I knew that mother would never understand if I seemed sociable to him. Always mother said that leisure and charm and soft hands among the young men whom I might know intimately were signs of standards that were not exactly respectable. "When you see a man able to stand on the corner dressed up in the middle of the day, week in and week out, with nothing to do but look pretty and flirt with the women and girls, there's a screw loose somewhere," she would say with the utmost sincerity, when we were on our frequent shopping trips into the city to which our little town was a suburb. So I could only smile dryly and hope that Fate would take a hand in my affairs.
His next words were like an answer to prayer, it seemed to me. "Do you ever go to the city, alone? I would like to have you meet some of my friends there who would vouch or my—intentions. You see I realize that you must be careful. All young girls should be careful of strangers." "Ah! I knew he was a gentleman, I thought to myself. No matter what mother thought of idling young sheiks this one was nice and harmless, I fancied I had at last found what every girl wishes—her ideal. "I never have," I said, in answer to his low voiced question, "but sometimes on Saturdays parties of young folks among us go in for a show or just for sight-seeing. I might meet you and your friends at such a time."
"That would be just fine," he exclaimed. "Meanwhile"—we were almost in front of the bakery. I could see Billy's brown face and busy brown hands as he leaned across the counter to wrap some articles for a waiting customer. I drew back so that a lamp post hid me from any chance glance if he should turn his face to the window. The street was clear at the moment. Crossing the park the trees and shrubs had hid us from view of chance passers. I was not anxious to have the news of the stroll across the park coming to the ears of my mother. But I turned an eager gaze up to the handsome face (Continued on page eight)
YOUR OWN COMPLEXION
8
(Continued from Page 7)
above me, nevertheless.
"Meanwhile," he proceeded cautiously, as he realized my wish for secrecy, "if you could arrange to come to the picture show tonight I might find a seat next to you and we could talk over the matter."
I saw the round yellow face of Maizie Burrell in the bakery door and hastily murmuring "Till try" moved nonchalantly up the street as though I had but been on my way, without a glance toward handsome Walter Regis, as I learned to call him that night.
Mother was in a pleasant humor that night. My report card was all that she could have wished. When I asked to go to the little moving picture theatre up the street, she acquiesced pleasantly enough, only stipulating that it must be the first show. "For," she warned, gently, "you must go to bed early, you know, daughter. I frowned briefly but a half loaf was better than none. So I decided to dawdle long enough to be late for the first show which would give me an excuse to remain through the intermission and thus stay over-time on into the later show. This I reckoned would give me a longer time with my handsome Romeo.
When I entered the lobby of the theatre the first person I saw leaning carelessly against the outer rail of the ticket booth was Walter. I felt the blood rushing to my face in a burning flood. But without a second glance I purchased my ticket and went in.
"One, please," there was no need for me to turn my head to know whose voice was asking for the ticket just behind me. I followed the usher without a backward look but every footfall of those other feet behind me was distinctly impressed on my now emotion-sharpened faculties. I turned into the seat back of the one the polite usher pointed out. There was an empty aisle seat next to it. The man following me took the aisle seat. I felt my pulses quicken in the semi-darkness till I seemed choking with pleasurable emotions.
The play was long but it never gained my attention. To this day in my mind there is but a blurred memory of what it was all about. Not so with my memory of the man who sat by my side. Every inflection of his smooth tones is etched on my memory.
In the light from the screen I could see Billy Bates' round brown poll bobbing in interested efforts to follow the story over the giggling and constantly moving heads of two loud voiced girls who sat immediately in front of him.
"Too bad your mother is so unreasonably strict on you." I felt my own righteous anger rising in response to the sympathetic tones in my eager ears. "We might take a little drive after the show if you didn't have to hurry home." The low voice was provocatively suggestive. It roused a spirit of daring in me.
"If—we-if—I can stay out until the second show is half over without—You see I—" I paused in the midst of the unacknowledged injustice of having to deprive myself of so innocent a pleasure. But Walter seemed to have an uncanny insight into my mind.
"That would give us a good hour of pleasure if we went at once," he murmured in a pleased tone.
"I will go out and get my car—some friends of mine are at the hotel and they may want to make a party of it. Just a short little ride, you know. If you follow me out in a few minutes it will save comment. You can walk up to the corner and wait if we are not there. It will be quite all right, my dear." He added the last as a sort of reassurance at my involuntary gulp of dismay as he started to leave.
I waited, every nerve strained and
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felt myself gathered up and an arm slipped familiarly about my waist Something about the abandon an fierce possessiveness of the grasp ser a little shiver of apprehension through me. I tried to shrink awa but the grip only tightened. I fe a sudden, almost overwhelming desire to scream but the low seductive voice of the man beside me sound in my ear. His face bent closer an closer. With a swift rush of repu
(Continued on page eleven)
XION
LMER'S
THE HOLDEN ROBBERY
June 1, 1945.
(Continued from page 1)
"When did Mr. Alvin leave?"
"A few mintues after I locked the vault."
"When did Speed leave?"
Uncertainty·Hovers
"Let me see . . . why, I don't now just when he left but I know he had gone when I went in to sweep the shipping room."
"You said you helped in the shipping room, Johnson. Do you frequently help Speed take boxes to the elevator and then to a truck and to the freight house or express company?"
"Yes, I always help him when we have to take stuff to the freight house, which ain't often because most of our stuff is sent by express; and whenever there's a box to go by express, I help move it over to the elevator."
"Now," said Darrington, changing the subject, "do you know whether Timothy is a highflyer or not? Did he ever mention going to cabarets?" Timothy Woman-Hater "Ha! Ha! Ha!" the porter laughed heartily, "Mr. Timothy ain't that kind—he's bitter on the women, although he's married." "Probably because of it," the detective mused to himself, and then aloud: "what time do you usually send out your shipping here?" "Oh, about three o'clock." "When is it usually packed and made ready?"
"In the mornings."
In the morning, "Were there any boxes that you didn't get off the afternoon of the 13th?" "Yes, we had quite a lot of stuff that day, so there were two or three big boxes we left until the next afternoon." Darrington stroked his chin meditatively. "Well," he snapped out with a tone of finality, "let's get back." Returning to the office, the detective found the employees and Mr. Alvin impatiently awaiting him, each with his paper covered with writing. Darrington read each sheet carefully, eyeing the group from time to time.
Alibis Perfect
When he had finished with them all he announced: "Well, all of you seem to have ironclad alibis, so I guess it was an outside job." As he said this he watched Alvin. Timothy and Speed closely. Then turning to the president he informed him that the employees could return to their work.
When they were all outside he turned to Alvin and said quietly, "Mr. Alvin I suppose you won't mind my questioning your cashier, will you?" "Not at all," replied the president, though evidently annoyed with the whole procedure.
When Mr. Timothy, a short, slender, nervous man with scant hair, watery eyes that peered from behind thick spectacles, entered the room. Darrinston asked but two questions: "Mr. Timothy, did you direct Johnson, the porter, to sweep up the glass under the back window when you came in on the morning of March the 14th?"
Timothy Watched Closely
"Why, come to think of it," the little cashier replied, "there wasn't but one piece of glass on the floor and I threw that in the trash box myself."
O
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"Who was the next person you saw after you unlocked the door on the morning of the 14th?"
"Well, let—me—see. Oh yes, I unlocked the door and came in, and right away I saw the window smashed. I went right back there and picked up that piece of glass. Then I opened the safe, as usual, and that's when I discovered that the coats were gone. I heard a hammering in the shipping room and I knew Speed must be there so I called him. Nobody else had arrived at the time. A few minutes later the colored boy came in."
"Thank you, Mr. Timothy. That will be all."
When the cashier had retired, Darrington turned to Mr. Alvin, saying, "I wish you would let me see your express shipping orders for the 13th and 14th, Mr. Alvin."
"Why certainly," the president replied, wonderingly, reaching for his telephone he asked Mr. Timothy to bring them in.
No Clue Yet
Darrington studied the orders carefully. There were two of them, the one for the 13th, mentioning four boxes to various firms and that of the 14th, listing three. He handed the orders back to Timothy and waved his dismissal. Evidently he saw no clue there.
Rising he said, "Well, Mr. Alvin, thanks ever so much for your assistance. This looks like a clear case of outside robbery. I figure they got up on the roof, kicked in the window, and then were able to hit on the combination of your vault.
"But." interrupted the president. "how did they get down off that roof, through the locked door of the penthouse and out past the night watchman, to say nothing of unlocking the door of this shop without disturbing the burglar alarm?"
Darrington Is Puzzled
"I think they must have let themselves down with a rope from the roof to the fire escape and thence to to the ground. At any rate there are a lot of loose ends I've got to gather up, but I'm sure it was an outside job." Outside, the Negro sleuth hailed a taxicab and had himself driven rapidly to the express office. He immediately closedet himself with the manager after making himself and his mission known. Upon his request the manager permitted him to examine the express shipping orders of the Holden Fur Company for March 13th and 14th. There were the originals of the two orders listing seven boxes to as many firms. "Mr. Simpson," said Darrington, turning to the manager, "may I talk to the driver who called at the Holden Company for these boxes?"
"Why ves," the manager replied,
"Fortunately. Carahan is out front
now." Ringing for his secretary he
bade her call the driver.
Driver Caught
Carahan. a tall, shaggy-headed,
lantern-lawed Irishman with shifty
blue eyes, entered questioningly. Darrington bade him be seated, then turning suddenly and whipping out his blue automatic, pressed it into the Irishman's ribs. Out of another pocket he drew dangling handcuffs. "Put 'em up, Carnahan," he hissed, "and turn around." Then before the astonished eyes of the express manager, he handcuffed the driver. "Why, what does this mean—how do you get that way?" the man blustered. "Now listen," Darrington grated, "if you don't tell what you did with that other box—the fourth one—you took from the Holden Fur Company on the afternoon of March 14th, and for which you received no order nor gave any receipt, you're going to be in prison for the next ten or fifteen years."
Driver Gives Clue
At these words the man sprang as if shot and before he could control his wits, he babbled. "How in the devil did you find that out?" Then realizing his mistake, he bit his lip until it bled. "Sit down," Darrington commanded, with a smile. Then turning to the astonished Mr. Simpson, he said "Pardon me, old man, for using your office for this purpose but it couldn't be avoided. As you have heard, your driver has admitted that he took a box away from the Holden Company of which neither you or that company has any record. That box. I am positive, contained those five chinchilla coats. . . Now please let me use your telephone. In a moment he was connected with Mr Sanders of the Safety Insurance Company.
Speed Arrested
Still keeping his automatic trained on the big driver, he directed Sanders to have the police arrest Jim Speed and bring him over to the Express office.
A half hour later, Speed, accompanied by two detectives from headquarters and the plump little president of the insurance company, entered the office. Turning to one of the officers, Darrington requested him to step outside with Carnahan for a few minutes. Then turning to Sanders, he said:
"Well, Mr. Sanders, you see I've made some progress. This driver has already confessed to his part in the robbery and has told the whereabouts of the furs." As he said this he glanced sidelong at Speed and noticed that he had gone pale as a sheet.
"The damn snitch." Speed snarled. "I'll get him for this." Then he caught himself as he realized the admission of guilt in his words, and his face went red with chagrin.
Guilt Admitted
"Well, you see," said Darrington to Sanders, stroking his chin with a gleam of triumph in his eyes, "the culprits have admitted their guilt. You can take them both down to headquarters, officer."
"But how was it done?" Sanders burst out when the two officers had
A
departed with the prisoners.
Darrington stroked his chin, lit a cigarette and settling back in his chair;
began:
"After going over the roof carefully, I found no evidence that a rope had been used up there. There were no marks of a rope either on the cornice or the smokestack. Moreover the lock on the penthouse door had not been picked or broken. Again the foot and heel marks on the gravel roof above the Holden windows were altogether too numerous not to arouse my suspicions that they had been put there on purpose. For another thing, Timothy, the cashier, testified that he only found one piece of glass on the floor when he arrived the morning of the 14th. Now, if the window had been kicked in from the outside there would have been a large number of pieces of glass on the floor.
Darrington Explains
Consider, too, that Speed was not seen to leave by Johnson, the porter, nor was he seen to enter the next morning by Timothy, the cashier. The last time Johnson saw Speed he was wiping his hands; when Timothy saw him next morning he was in the shipping room. While it was customary to send out all boxes at 3 p.m., on the afternoon of the 13th there were two or three boxes that were not sent off. I figured that Speed did that on purpose to averry any suspicion next morning when a
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search would be made by the police. Instead of him going, one that night, he hid himself in his individual locker until everyone was gone. He forgot, however, to clear away the crumbs from his sandwiches which he had left on his shelf. When everybody was gone he took the furs from the vault, put them in a box, nailed it up and then hid until morning. He Know that Timothy would not notice that he had not entered.
"Yes," interrupted Sanders, "but how did he open the vault? He didn't have the combination. How do you explain that?"
Clever Scheme
"Quite simple," Darrington returned blandly. "In front of the vault is the wash bowl, over the wash bowl is a large mirror, by standing in the door of the shipping room you can glance right into the mirror and see anyone in front of the vault. Speed must have had a pair of opera glasses and when Timothy opened the vault every morning he watched him through the glasses from the inside of the shipping room door. Did this until he knew the combination as (Continued on page eleven)
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The Life of Toussaint L'Ouverture No.16
A
Cetewayo, The Heroic Zulu King
(Continued From Page 3)
In the words of even a white South African, Theal (History of South Africa):
"He was received and treated as if he had been a beneficent and civilized ruler who had merely done his duty to his people by heroically endeavoring to protect them against an invading army. Great crowds assembled to hear him wherever he went, deputations from various societies waited on him; he was taken to see places of interest, far and near, in short, he was made the lion of the day such as no white head of a third-rate state would have been.
"As guest of the British government he was provided with everything that could tend to his comfort and he was fitted out with clothing in the greatest variety and of the most expensive kind. He appeared in London dressed as an English gentleman and what is wonderful, really, he conducted himself as if he had been accustomed all his life to wear a silk hat and kid gloves. Great as is the power of imitation of the ordinary African, Cetewayo certainly excelled all his countrymen in this wise.
"Presents of the most incongruous kinds were showered on him, such as gold lockets and cashmere shawls ...three wagon-loads in all... He would have been utterly spoilt if it had not been that his intense desire to return to Zululand overcame all other feelings and enabled him to keep his senses."
His Kingdom Stolen
Queen Victoria promised to do all that was in her power for him but her ministers, on the demand of the South Africans, did little. Cetewayo
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Superhuman Courage
The Negro heroes charged with their usual courage but it was impossible for them, ill-armed as they were, to pass the belt of fire that protected their foes. Against the machines, valor and bravery counted for naught. "A thrill of admiration passed through me," says Browne, "when I thought of the splendid courage of the savages who could advance to the charge suffering such awful punishment." Finally Cetewayo was forced to withdraw, leaving 5,000 of his men dead.
A few days later, however, Cetewayo sprang another surprise. One of his detachments defeated and killed the Prince Napoleon, causing a tremendous stir in Europe.
Was this retribution? His grandfather had caused the death of a Negro, Toussaint L'Ouverture.
Cetewavo Captured
Soon after this Cetewayo was captured and kept a prisoner for three years, during which time his country, missing his strong hand, fell into anarchy. Many kings arose, and the tribes were broken up.
At last even his enemies began to demand his return, and Cetewayo was granted his wish to go to England to present his case to Queen Victoria.
Acclaimed in England
When he arrived in England he was accorded a reception such as few monarchs have received. The Zulu War had been very unpopular with the people at home. They felt that Cetewayo had only been protecting his land such as would have been expected of any patriot.
They were all the more confirmed in their opinion when they found in Cetewayo not a man-eating savage, as his enemies had declared him, but a gentleman in all that the term implies. Queen Victoria was highly impressed with him, and so was the English press.
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was returned to Zululand, but when he arrived he found that his kingdom had been split into three parts, one of which was restored to him. Anxious to restore his nation, he made war on one of these chiefs, Usibepu, but the latter, secretly aided by the whites, was stronger and defeated him. On February 9, 1884, he died presumably of heart trouble. Was Remarkable Character Sir T. Shepstone, governor of Natal, one of his foes, speaks in the highest terms of his personal character and his indomitable courage. "He was remarkably frank and straightforward," he says, "with much force of character and a dignified manner."
Bishop Colenso and his sister strove hard to win justice for him as did others in England. Miss Colenso in a remarkable book says: "Cetewayo's treatment reflected no credit on the name of England."
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IL 27, 1803, he died of pneumonia
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This does not necessarily call for medicines, or at least what one usually looks upon as medicines. If the cold is actually upon you in full force, your physician should of course be called, but quite often an ounce of prevention will be found worth the full pound of proverbial cure—and prevention is relatively inexpensive.
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