HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Lucknow Sentinel, 1935-10-03, Page 4PAGE FOUR
(An Advertisement of the Bruce Liberal Association)
TO THE
Electors
OF THE
Riding
OF
Bruce
W. R. TOMLINSON, BRUCE
LIBERAL CANDIDATE
Heed well the voice of
reason! Vote for the Lib
eral party, the only res-
p o n s i b 1 e parliamentary
group in Canada! In the
course of , this election
campaign, certain sectarian politicians will appeal to your pre
judice or sentiments in the vain hope of hiding the poverty of
their ideas. The electors will not be duped! Recall the false pro
mises made by Bennett in 1930. Now that he has utterly failed
the Conservative leader seeks renewal of his mandate. Take
no chances of being under the thumb of a dictator who cares
not one whit for the wishes of the people or the rights of our
provinces.
THICK OR THIN
VOTE FOR THE ONLY TRULY RESPONSIBLE PARTY IN
THE COUNTRY TO-DAY—THE LIBERAL PARTY LED BY
MACKENZIE KING.
In regard to the tariff, his policy is clear and stable—not
veering with every political wind like that of the other parties.
The Liberal government you will elect, is prepared, undei’ the
guidance of Mr. King, to adopt measures whose purpose will
be to put new life into the commerce and industry of this
nation.
Social reforms which the Liberal party is ready to under
take will be of lasting benefit because they have their base in
logic and sound common sense.
The Liberal party has formulated a seriously considered
program whose 14 planks provide an assurance of national
unity, and with it a sane sensible solution of our grave nat
ional problems.
VOTE LIBERAL AND GET ACTION
Vote Tomlinson
To many people, thin blood means
the same as poor health. They speak
of “good rich blood’’ as if this were
the trade mark of robust health.
The blood is an important part of
the body. There are various diseases
and certain disorders of the blood,
but the most remarkable thing about
the blood is how little it changes in
certain respects despite a variety of
changing conditions.
There are salts and minerals in
the blood of which sodium chloride
Dr table salt is the largest constit
uent. Under ordinary conditions the
concentration of these salts in the
blood is kept at the same level.
They are lost from the body in the
urine and sweat, but a reserve is
stored in the skin whence it is called
forth as required. The concentration
in the blood is controlled by the kid
neys.
The blood is slightly alkaline.
Those who speak of their blood’s
being too acid are evidently ignorant
of the fact that if their blood were
to become even barely acid, they
would die, and if it were to swing a
fraction more to the alkaline side,
convulsions would occur.
These things are mentioned to
remind our readers that the human
body, as evidenced by the blood, has
a remarkable ability to keep on run
ning smoothly because of its cap
acity to adjust to changing conditions
But just because of this, there is
no excuse to abuse the body by call
ing upon it to meet unusual and
severe strains, through carelessness
or ignorance. There is a point be
yond which lies danger. Repeated
strains may cause a premature
wearing out; it is better to keep the
demands within reason.
Thin blood, poor health and other
complaints are most common in the
spring, because during the winter,
so many people fail to live in such
a way as to give their bodies a fair
chance. For one thing, they deprive
themselves of fresh air. Fresh air
is just as desirable in winter as in
summer, and it can be had the year
round without cost. It is outside
your doors and windows, waiting for
you, and it will come in if you will
only give it a chance. Leave your
bedroom window open a little each
night, and so allow yourself to sleep
in fresh air.
Questions concerning health, ad
dressed to the Canadian Medical As
sociation, 184 College St., Toronto,
will be answered personally by letter
CREWE
Mr. and Mrs. Jesse Gray are visit
ing their daughter, Mrs. M. Shackle
ton.
A number from here attended the
school Fair at Couries Corner where
all the pupils had splendid exhibits
and were successful in winning priz
es. Kenneth Gauley captured the T.
Eaton trophy.
Misses Harriet and Ella Whitley
spent the week-end with their aunt
Mrs. Isaac Nixon.
Mr. Joe Alton of Goderich and
Alvin Kerr of Nile, spent the week
end with Mr. T. M. Durnin.
Mr. and Mrs. Will Reid and Jackie
spent Thursday with her mother,
Mrs. Wm. Wilson.
Mrs. Campbell of Donnybrooke is
spending a few days at Wm. Croz-
iers’.
PARAMOUNT
Mr. and Mrs. Wm. R. Martin spent
the week-end with friends at Kin
cardine and Pine River.
Miss Mary Cook is home from
Southampton where she has been
nursing.
Mrs. James Cook has been visiting
with friends here.
Mrs. James Blue from Amberley
is spending a few days with her
daughter, Mrs. Grant MacDiarmid.
Silo filling is the order of the day
Mr. Norval Richards returned to
Guelph last week to resume his
studies at 0. A. C.
Mr. and Mrs. Pete Dahmer and
family from Kincardine and Mr. and
Mrs. Gilbert Barkwell, 2nd con.,
were recent visitors with Mr. and
Mrs. Wm. McGill.
Miss Acie Dahmer from Kincar
dine is spending this week with her
aunt, Mrs. Wm. MacGill.
Mr. Fred Martin judged horses at
the Pinkerton Fall Fair recently
G. H. MOONEY ILL
HIGH AND CONTINUATION
SCHOOL GRANTS IN BRUCE
According to the Chesley Enter-
prise the following is the list of
Bruce County grants to Continuation
and High Schools jn the county:
Hepworth .............$ 1547.74
Lucknow ............... 1756.40
Ripley ................... 2919.75
Paisley ................. 3088.08
Teeswater .... 4737.43
Wiarton ................. 3628.41
Chesley ................. 4544.93
Port Elgin .............. 4970.37
Kincardine ............ 6324.61
Walkerton ............. 7263.84
Bruce County grants to Continua
tion * schools are, we understand, aix
amount 2% times the Legislative
grant. In the case of Hepworth and
Lucknow, which places are boun
dary towns and draw grants from
two counties, Bruce County bases
its grant to these townjs, according
to the number of Bruce County stu
dents attending these schools.
Mr. George H. Mooney one of Rip
ley’s outstanding citizens and former
proprietor of the Ripley Express, un
derwent an operation in St. Joseph’s
Hospital, London, one day last week.
Mr. Mooney had been suffering from
an internal disorder for some time
and when under careful medical sup
ervision his system was not respond
ing to treatment, an operation was
advised. We are pleased to report
that this was successful and the pat
ient is making favorable progress
toward recovery.—Ripley Express.
BRIDGE NEAR COMPLETION
With the pouring of the last sec
tion of the floor on Tuesday Contrac
tor Mowbray’s crew brought the new
bridge one step nearer to completion.
All that remains to be done is the
pouring of the concrete railing pil
lars, and placing of the steel railing
and the removal of the forms and
falsework. During the past few weeks
Mr. Mowbray has had his gang
greatly enlarged in man power and
has been making things hum, and it
does appear as though he has suc
cessfully beaten old man bad wea
ther to the punch. Among those who
have watched the progress of the
structure from the first excavation
for the piers, the opinion is that the
bridge has been well and truly hand
led, and that the new bridge will out
last a great many generations of
Paisleyites. Engineer Kunz, co-de
signer of the bridge, who has been
supervising the job almost since its
inception, assures us that the new
viaduct is as fine structurally and in
appearance as any of its size in
Canada.—Paisley Advocate.
GODERICH LAWYER IN FIELD
At a convention in Hensall the
end of the week, Frank Donnelly,
well-known young Goderich lawyer,
received the unanimous nomination
as Conservative candidate to contest
the riding of Huron-Perth in the
federal election. Four other names
were placed before the convention,
but three of these withdrew and the
fourth was not present. The conven
tion then made the choice of Mr.
Donnelly unanimous.
HERE AND THERE
The farmers around town are get
ting their silos filled these days. Ew
art Taylor filled his three silos last
Tuesday and Wednesday; R. J. But
ton’s on Wednesday and W. E. Hen
derson’s silo on Saturday. The corn
is a good crop this year, standing
up well and well cobbed up.
Mr. and Mrs. Fred Graham of
Mt. Forest, visited on Sunday with
Mr. and Mrs. A. Havens.
First Orange Dance of the season
Thursday evening.
Miss Ellen Burns is visiting at
present with friends at Brussels.
Mr. Donald iStimpson spent a few
days last week with Mr. Eldon Hen
derson.
(Miss Anna Mae Treleaven of
Crewe visited a few days last week
with Mrs. Ewart Taylor.
OUR BORDER LINE
Three thousand miles of border line
—nor fort nor armed host
On all this frontier neighbor-ground
from east to western coast;
A spectacle to conjure with — a
thought to stir the blood!
A living proof to all the world of
faith in brotherhood.
Three thousand miles of border line
—nor has a century
Seen aught along this common course
but peace and harmony.
0 nations bound in brotherhood!
0 faith in fellow-man!
What better way on earth to dwell
than this God-given plan ?
Three thousand miles of border line!
—One hundred years of peace!
In all the page of history what par
allel to this?
God sspeed that surely dawning day
—that coming hour divine—
When all the nations of the earth
shall boast such border line!
—The New York Times.,
THE LUCKNOW SENTINEL
Once Upon A Time
BY E. X. HQFDS
(An Old Timer)
Wingham was just beginning to
stir on this particular Tuesday morn
ing. Shopkeepers were setting out
displays. Delivery wagons were
trundling over the pavement. Dishes
were rattling, silverware clinking in
a nearby cafe. Nearby, a radio
blared into sudden activity as if it,
too, felt the prompting urge of the
morning.
Coming down the street I met Mr.
Deachman. For a moment I paused.
After all he was a busy man, and
who was I to presume on his time?
Yet he stopped to speak to the news
boy on the corner.
“Hello Harry, how’s business?”
I turned. Yes, it was he who had
spoken. No formality here. I said,
“Mr. Deachman”. He smiled.
Change it to Bob,” he retorted.
“It saves time.”
We went up the street together,
crossing over in front of the post
office and down past the hotel. Would
I come to the Committee Rooms?
This was my lucky morning. Why,
of course I would.
Once seated in chairs . . . they
were those comfortable arm ones,
trifle old-fashioned, but certainly
better than these back-breaking,
modernistic affairs. Once seated, I
began a furtive search for a match.
“Have a light.”
Now this was a sheer surprise. A
non-smoker carrying a match, and
without any objections to smoking.
The conversation drifted to gen
eralities, as all good conversations
do. So many people, I mean of course
the “Old Tory Guard,” have been
whispering little sayings, that fig
ured around the word “stranger,”
and not a “local man.” Well there
would be no harm in making a ten
tative remark.
There was a merry twinkle in his
eyes, as he handed me a little yel
low book.
“The Lone Guest,” I read, “by R.
T. Deachman.”
The unspoken question of my mind
was answered. This was the author,
the man whose article on a visit to
his home touched the hearts of home
lovers from one end of Canada to
the other.
And to my eyes as I turned the
cover over, there came the sentence:
“I was born near the village °f Gor-
rie, in the township of Howick, in
the county of Huron, in the province
of Ontario.”
And as my friend spoke there
came a mental vision. Under the
deft mastery of his words I saw his
home. Gorrie! A quiet little town,
so very typical of serene Ontario.
I saw the bridge and dam, that
haven of the small boy. The homes
and gardens. The peaceful little
church, where men and women were
taught to honour God and love their
fellowmen.
I caught the enthusiasm of his
voice as he spoke of the “ole swim-
,min hole.” Could see the gleam of
' sun and water on sturdy, young,
bronzed bodies. Could almost feel
the fierce thrill of delight as the
fish nibbled. And the inrushing flood
of grief at the one that got away.
“It was,” said he, “the North Branch
of the Maitland River. How it
threads its way through the old con
stituency! The Maitland is part of
the life of North Huron—I Jove it.”
And on the magic carpet of ima
gining, we went back to the quiet,
little graveyard. Saw the tombstones,
some tinged by lichen and moss, and
all hallowed by the years.
“And recent mounds new-tended,
show where poignant grief, still
fresh and strong, beeks with living
flowers the love that’s lost.”
I am reminded of this sentence of
his from “The Lone Guest.” It ex
presses the depth of feeling, that
lie has for these . . . his friends and
kinsfolk, the living and the dead.
A strong feeling of shame seems
to sweep over me. A stranger! No!
Emphatically no! It is a mere fab
rication on the part of some unscru
pulous person.
This man is no stranger. How can
he be ? He who as a lad, churned
the dust of quiet Howick roads with
his tanned bare feet. Who, during
the years in which he has been
away, has cherished fond and sincere
dreams of this . . . his home.
“Beside yon straggling fence, that
skirts the way,
Yon blossomed furze, unprofitably
gay,
There in his noisy mansion, skilled
to rule,
The village master taught his little
school.
These words of Goldsmith were
recalled to - my mind as my host
spoke of his little school house. Yes,
and back in those same ink-scarred
seats sat “Bob” Deachman and
George Spotton.
I wonder if Fate whispered to
them, then, that they would vie and
contest with each other in matters
exceeding “readin, ’ritin’, and ’rith-
metic.” Did intuition in a kindly
mood, whisper to them that they
would meet on the opposite sides of
the political fence, in their own home
riding?
And of course our conversation
drifted to politics. Now, I’m sorry
to say that my knowledge of the pol
itical life of our country is inade
quate. I wanted to query my dis
tinguished friend without professing
my ignorance.
“Are the good old days of politics
over?”
THE CITY OF DAMS
East and west, north and south,
I’ve seen the sights of many a land.
I’ve visited many sections of this
western hemisphere and have lived
in towns and cities in many parts of
the world, but so far as I can
recollect, Lucknow is the most dam
med town I think I have ever known.
It’s almost forty years since I
bought my ticket from Dan Hayes
at the Grand Trunk station and its
about that long ago since I walked
the streets of that little old town,
but among the most outstanding pic
tures that hang on memory’s wall,
are‘those of the happy hours I
spent with sun-blistered back and
aching joints in the swimming holes
of the town in which I grew up.
Yes, Lucknow was a well dammed
town. It seems to me, after the
lapse of the years, that the dams in
that town were so close together
they fairly shouldered each other
out of the way.
If my memory serves me right—
and how could I forget?—it’s less
than a mile fropx the dam at the
grist mill to the one at the carding
mill, yet in between, there used to
be two others; the little pigmy dam
at the waterworks power-house, and
the one at the saw mill a half mile
below.
Then there was the one built in
the 80’s by Uncle Walter Treleaven
to augument the flow of water at
the grist mill. It was located on
Archie MacMillan’s farm just east
of town. Another farther down held
the water impounded at McCarrol’s
mill, an institution which many years
ago went up in smoke.
These were dams of some import
ance in a commercial way. They
were needed in those days to turn
the wheels of industry, to drive
machinery, which in turn created
employment and which in turn sent
manufactured products throughout
the country.
But there were many other dams
which to me as a lad were consid
ered of much greater importance.
They were constructed through end
less toil by kids who were to small
to swim in the deeper holes of the
little old Nine Mile River. They were
ouilded not by great steam shovels
of more recent days nor by steeds
or mules who hauled ships °r
wheeled scrapers. They were
built by kids of tender years, who
painstakingly placed one stone upon
another, packing sods carefully be
tween and over all, finally backing
the water up until a sufficient reser
voir was formed, a safe place to
paddle, a spot where we could cool
our blistered backs, or could find
shelter from the chilling breezes
which swept down out of the north.
Yes sir, those were the busy, hap
py days. We kids toiled, and sweated
and chattered—chattered most of all
perhaps. It was here in this demo
cratic environment that we laid the
foundations of friendships which have
never been shattered, lifelong heri
tages, the fruits of which have
endured the onslaughts of father
time.
Here, boys in all stages of nudity,
wrestled with engineering problems
of the moment, while on the banks,
girls talked “shop” wrangled over
doll’s apparel, over problems of
domesticity, over jealousies in which
most of the boys were involved!
Dams! Oh yes, Lucknow had lots
of them. Though the streams have
doubtless dwindled to tiny threads
of tepid water, the memory of them
still register among the happy things
I cherish. Some of the happiest mo
ments of my whole life were spent
in building dams, which even in my
days in Lucknow, gave place to
something else. It was there, while
engaged in this innocent sport I
met some of the characters who in
nocently took a hand in the shaping
of my destiny.
Who are they? Oh that’s just ano
ther of the secrets of my life. The
things that were the most significant
at the time were the dams we built,
the swims we swum, and the happy
times I spent in the dammdest town
I’ve ever known.
The End.
WORLD SPEED MARKS
Seaplane—Lieut. Francisco Agello—
440.68 M.P.H.
Airplane—Raymond Delmotte—312.-
21 M.P.H
Automobile — Malcolm Campbell —
301.337 M.P.H.
Motor Boat—Gar Wood — 124.86
M.P.H.
Robert returned from school with
his report card for his mother’s in
spection. “But dear,” she said,
“What’s the trouble! Why have you
such poor grades this month?”
“There’s no trouble, mom,” was
the quick reply. “You know yourself
things are always marked down after
the holidays.”
DRAWBACK
Passenger to negro porter—“What
time do we get to New York,
George?”
Porter—“iWe is due to get there
at 1.15 unless you has set your watch
by eastern time which would make
it 2.15. Then, of co’se if you is goin’
by daylight saving time, it would be
3.15, unless we is an hour and fifty
minutes late—which we is.”
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 3rd, 1935
INTERVIEW WITH R. J. DEACHMAN
by
HARRY J. BOYLE, ST. AUGUSTINE
Lyceum Theatre
WINGHAM
“Well,” he smiled at my question,
“they have been rather dormant dui*-
ing the past few years . . however
That single word “however” seem
ed rife with meaning.
“And what do you think of Ben
nett’s dictatorial attitude?”
The fighting fire was roused. The
full force of his eloquence smote me.
Somehow it struck me with singulax-
significance.
It was so easy to picture the
House of Commons coming to atten
tion ... a nation’s statesman being
aroused by that fighting spirit.
And it is not merely the voice. It
.akes but a moment of his conversa
tion to make you realize that he is a
xeen student, one, who having as
similated a vast store of knowledge
nas it now at his fingertips ever
ready for use.
It was he who pointed out to me,
the significance of that slogan, “Vote
For Bennett.” It means that he holds
the stranglehold on the Conserva-
cive party. He is rapidly assuming
che attitude of the new crop of dic
tators that is springing up through
out the world.
“The trouble with this business is
ffiat it breaks with democracy,” said
Mr. Deachman. “There is the essen-
vial difference between the two lead
ers. Mr. King is anchored to the
democratic conception of government.
Mr. Bennett is anchored . . . well
. . . he's anchored to Mr. Bennett.”
“Nor is this attitude confined to
him alone. His own supporters are
adopting the same attitude, of eras
ing the name of the Tory party
from their minds and literature. It’s
always, ‘Vote for Bennett’-----are
they ashamed of the old party? Or
is this some new form of “ism” or
where now is the party of tradition
—the party which once boasted that
it held the instincts of govern
ment?”
"And your own election cam
paign?” 1 queried.
It is a discussion of political top
ics from the platform. I try as much
as possible to divide my program in
two parts. During the first half I
speak. During the latter half, my
audience is given every opportunity
to ask questions, It is all on a fifty-
fifty basis.”
“And your opponent’s method?”
“It cannot be the same,” said Mr.
Deachman. “My opponent does not
know the facts. He has never stud
ied them. A few days ago he an
nounced he would vote fol’ all good
legislature. Funny, isn’t it? Pray
how does the Bennet candidate dis
tinguish between good and evil?”
“Search me,” I said, in the lang
uage of the street, “or better still
let me search you.”
Mr. Deachmap laughed and reach
ed for his bag. “Here,” said he, “is
the end of the search.”
Then I read from the newspapers
reports of Mr. Spotton’s nomination
in 1930, his promise to support low
tariffs, his opposition to un-employ-
ment insurance, his protest again
old-age pensions.
“Now,” said Mr. Deachman, “was
chat a suggestion of good legislation
at that time or was it a suggestion
of bad legislation? If it was good
legislation then what has happened
since ? Mr. Spotton supported the
highest tariff ever imposed in Canada
supported unemployment insurance,
supported everything he then oppos
ed. You can come only to one con
clusion—Mr. Spotton cannot dis
tinguish between good and evil, there
fore is in no position to support good
legislation because he cannot tell
good legislation from bad. Anyway,
if we search the legislative records
of Canada we find that it is extrem
ely difficult to distinguish between
good and bad, and the distinction is
not likely to be made by a man
who tries to reach Parliament along
a syncopated highway.”
“Surely this is right,” I said to
myself, “It is so plain there is no
escape from it. Dancing is all right
in it’s place, so is the circus. The
circus barker has his role to fill,
among the people of North Huron
however, the higher appeal, the ap
peal to logic and reason and common
sense must be sustained. People must
think their way towards .improved
conditions, that is the only road.”
“Hhere is a funny thing,” said
Mr. Deachman as I rose to go, and
he threw down before me several
letters he had just received. One of
them was from a newspaper editor
in Western Canada. It contained this
very surprising statement: “Person
ally I am not much attached to any
political party. I do not know what
side you are on but I would love to
see you in the House of Commons.”
Then there was another from Mr.
Bennett’s own home town of Calgary.
It concluded with these words: “I
am voting for Mr. Bennett—he is a
personal friend of mine—but if I
were in North Huron I would vote
for you. I hope you will be elected.”
“Now I had met Mr. Deachman. I
realized what was back of his mind.
Huron farms and fields drew him on
—the problem of his native county
remained with him in his absence.
They have never left him. He should
be classified as a farmer candidate
for no man thinks closer to the soil.
His native county will honor itself
by selecting him for the House of
Commons on the day the ballots are
counted.
The End.
Show Starts at 8.00 P.M.
Thursday, Friday, Saturday.
October 3-4-5
MARGARET SULLIVAN
HERBERT MARSHALL
FRANK MORGAN
In
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r
BEAUTIFUL ISLE
OF SKjM&vfXUaim”
As I sat in my pew one Sabbath,
My heart was heavy with care,
When a singer arose and sang for us
‘Beautiful Isle of Somewhere.”
He carried us up with that glorious
voice,
And in thought we seemed to rise.
Till we caught the glory and glow
that shone,
From the mansions of Paradise.
And as we walked down the long dim
aisle,
Where the colored lights shone thru,
He turned and said with his kindly
smile,
I sang today for your.
For he knew my heart was weary
and sad,
And the pleasures of life were few.
And he sought to guide my earth-
bound thoughts,
To that land where we live anew.
I tried to thank him but sadly failed,
For my eyes were filled w'ith tears.
But a calm and peace possessed my
soul,
I had not known for years.
Sing on, sweet singer; we need your
help,
Our hearts and lives to unfold,
To lift us away from time and sense,
Nearer the Gates of Gold.
Sometime when we reach our Fath
er’s home,
And His love together share.
1’11 thank the singer who sang for
me,
“Beautiful Isle of Somewhere.”
“Grateful”
(Publisher’s Note)—This poem is
contributed by a resident of the
community—one who knows full well
the loneliness of bereavement and
who finds expression of her sorrow
in the beautiful words of this poem
HAS SPORTS GOODS SHOP
It will be of interest locally to
learn that Mr. Rae Watson, son of
Mr. Jack Watson, formerly of Luck
now, ^s conducting a sports goods
shop in London at 189 Wellington
St.
As well as a complete line of
sporting goods, Rae handles a var
ied range of light hardware. He fea
tures the Majestic bicycle and bic
ycle sundries, and stocks a complete
line of rifles and ammunition. He is
thus enabled to offer a full service
to 'sportsmen in every field.
Rae is an occasional visitor to his
old home town of Lucknow, and his
friends here will wish him success
in his- business interests in which
he is ably assisted by his wife.
Little Horace was wearing his first
pair of real pants. He felt that at
last he was a man among men. He
strutted up and down and finally he
went up to his mother and asked:
“Muvver, can I call pa Bill now?”