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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Seaforth News, 1958-04-03, Page 2Thought Bicycle Part Of Rider Keen on travel? More and more people are these days, anal in recent years the outlook for the prospective globetrotter has improved considerably. Coun- tries which after the war were barred to tourists are now re- placing their "Keep Out" signs with "Welcome mats. It is still comparatively easy, however, for the traveller to get bogged down in a mire of officialdom and red tape. Pass- ports, visas, customs and cur- zency regulations, inoculations, restrictions on photography these are some of the aspects of overseas travel which cause frayed tempers and infuriating . delays. But when thirty -eight-year- old Frenchman Maurice Claude travels abroad he always man - Ages to steer clear of these com- ulicaticns and pitfalls. Maurice has just returned to his home in. Camblanes, France,' after a 20,000 -mile cycle tour of Africa. Passport? He hasn't got one. ;Visas? Not for Maurice. Cur- zeney problems? Eliminated — he took no money with him. Inoculations? "I'm. trying to give them up," laughs Maurine, How does he get away with it? The answer is that he doesn't always. But most of the time officials are so staggered by his casual simplicity and forthcoming honesty that they let him go on his way. For Maurice is no ordinary traveller. A. member of the Order of St. Francis of Assisi, he left home three years ago to prove to himself and the world that it ispossible to travel any- where with nothing more than the bare essentials of life, "It's all done by kindness," is Maurice's philosophy. His was not the hitch -hiking, do -it -on - the -cheap, scrounging type of travelling that has become so widespread. Heasked nothing in return for his kindness—not even food or shelter. Whatever gifts were pressed upon him by grateful natives or Europeans he would dispose of to others; whenever he was given money, he spent some on drugs and medicines for the Africans and sent the remainder home to his wife. A carpenter by trade, Maur- ice Claude found plenty to keep him occupied among the ram- shackle buildings of native vil- lages, and his knowledge of medicine and first aid was al- ways valuable, He, carried pen- icillin and sulphur drugs in his pack, but refused to .use them to treat his own illness. This remarkable man wand- ered through some of the wild- est parts of. Africa with an al- most incredible disdain for his own safety and a disarming be- lief in the ultimate goodness of his fellow men.'Not always was this belief justified. He was captured by fierce Okande tribesmen who tied him hand and foot and threatened him with death. He persuaded them to let him treat the sick of their villages and so success- ful was his treatment that the tribesmen soon became his staunch friends: In Fort Lamy, French Equa- torial Africa, he was imprison- ed as a lunatic. No one would believe his story. At the time he was suffering from blackwa- ter fever caused by neglected malaria. The French authorities de- cided to ship him back to France to save him from him- self. So weak that he could hardly stand. Maurice slipped his guards, wriggled through a small window and dropped to the ground. He found his bi- cycle and leaving all his other possessions behind, cycled off into the dark jungle. He pedalled his way from French Sudan into Nigeria. For several days he stayed in Kano, then left only four hours ahead of the Nigerian police who wanted to arrest him and charge him with illegal entry into the country. He returned to Nigeria by another route: Often he was attacked by wild animals. On one occasion a herd of elephants stampeded towards him, He fell off his bi- cycle and lay on the path in, front of them, shamming death. Miraculously they stopped and after looking down at his mo- tionless body they turned and went away. Another time, rounding a bend on a jungle path, he came 'face to face with a gorilla, which was holding up one hand and looked for all the world like a traffic cop! Maurice stop- ped abruptly and waited for the assault, but after inspecting him closely, the great ape turn- ed round and wandered away. He saw leopards and lions and countless varieties of other game while onhis trip. "There is no danger' unless you antagonize the . animals," says Maurice. "The same thing applies to humans. It was very seldom that I met with any- thing but friendship ,from the African people, Although at times they seemed ` astonished to see me cycling through the bush." At one small village many, hundreds of miles from civili- zation he was met by members of a tribe who had never seen white men. They threw spears at him and refused to let him near their village. After much. palaver they agreed to let him spend the night there. He found that they had thought hini to be ' some strange and powerful spirit with round legs. They believed at first that the bicycle was part of his body, It took ail his powers .of persuasion to convince them that he was as. human as they were, If he could find no village at night, Maurice Simply lay on a native blanket beside his bi- cycle. He had no mosquito net for most of his trip and yet he survived exposure nightly, in a malarial part of Africa with the reputation of being "the white man's grave." He was badly bitten and had several bouts of the fever—and he treated him- self. A vegetarian, he had little trouble in finding food, He found fruits in the bush which he ate, and shared native meals of millet and guinea corn. lie drank water from rivers, streams and native wells. Back home again after his marathon cycle tour, Maurice is disillusioned. Audiences to whom he has lectured are pre- pared to believe that he has ac- complished a. great personal ad- venture but they are reluctant. to accept his kindness, doctrine. They say that a man who "turns the other cheek" merely .dou- bles his doctor's bills, But Maurice condemns their cyni- cism and sticks to his claim that kindness can accomplish almost anything—and, at least, he has gone a long way to prove it. A truck driver pulled up alongside one of those tiny , foreign sports cars stalled on the highway, poked his head out, and asked: "What's sa trouble, pal? Need a new flint?" She'll Be Queen To Six Million by ROSETTE HARGROVE (NEA Staff Correspondent) PARIS — (NEA) - Prospect- ive brides—even here—must put in their apprenticeship at the sewing machnie, in the kitchen and with the book of etiquette. But for at least one 17 -year-old girl, the problems of becoming a bride are a little more compli- cated, She is Fazilet, daughter of Prince Mohamed Ali Ibrahim, cousin to ex -King Farouk of Egypt. And in addition to learn- ing about little household chores, Princess Fazilet is also learning how to reign over sixmilion people. This young lady is going to marry King Feisal II of Iraq. And she is going to do it directly from her home here without having to go into the movies. In fact, in her whole lifetime in France she has never gone anywhere without a chaperon, nor has she ever traveled by subway or public bus. From the looks of things, she may never have to. The palace Wee will move to is the most lux- urious and costliest building in Iraq. It sits on the banks of the Euphrates River, dominating the *lender golden minaret spires of Eeghdad. The palace is surrounded by small forest of rose trees, and has been decorated under the close supervision of the king, who is reported to have dredged Lon- don's antique dealers for rare period pieces. Iraq, too, will be a home -away - from -home for the princess who comes from a wealthy famly. This land is not only the cradle al the human race and the setting for the Thousand - and - One - Nights, but it is also the world's sixth largest oil producer. But to accept the hand of the king, Princess Fazilet must give up her dream of entering, the Pars Conservatoire of Music and the hope of becoming a concert pianist. The groom, Feisal II, is a grad- uate of Harrow in England and the author of "Self Defense", a small book on judo written in Arabic. At 22, he is not much younger than his country. Iraq became an independent state at the end of World War II, with Feisal's grandfr,ther—a descend- ant al the Prophets — its first king. Today's young king is a mix- ture of interests, enthusiasms and history that add up to the making of a romantic fellow. He is energetic, conservative, opinionated, but ready to listen. His hobbies are painting and sports cars. He likes boxing and hunting, but he is also interested in low-cost housing architecture. PRINCESS FAZILET: The next morning, she said "Yes." KING FEISAL : Oblivious to time-honored protocol. Someone once asked him: "If you were not king, what would you like to be?" "A mechanical engineer," he snapped. back. It was his impulsive ,romantic way that won his bride. The set- ting was a dinner party in has honor given two years ago by Prince Mohamed Ali Ibrahim and his wife, Princess Hanzade. Their daughter, Fazilet, was only 15 at the time, but Feisal had made up his mind. The next summer, the Royal Iragian yacht moored alongside Prince Ali Ibrahim's yacht on the Bosphorus. And for the three weeks the young couple danced, swam, played tennis and talked under the hot sun. Feisal returned to his kingdom and his emissary came to request the hand of Princess Fazilet for the king. Her parents reminded her that she was not obliged to marry a king and told her to think it over. The next morning, her answer came: "Yes." Again FeisaPs romantic nature took over, He invited his bride- to-be and her parents to spend the Christmas holidays on a visit to Iraq. Surrounded by palace digni- taries, the king arrived early at the airport, As soon as the plane had coasted to a stop, the; young, slender, dark -eyed man bounded into the plane—oblivious of time- honored protocol, He re -appeared holding the hand of his pretty, bewildered fiancee. While palace courtiers stood by horrified at seeing their future queen in public without a veil, and looking for all the world like a "Paris fashion drawing, the young people in the crowd cheer- ed. It seemed to them that their young rulers would, at last, bring a modern way -of -life to a land out of the Old Testament. BELL FOR A BELLE—Ringing the hell for the fashion house of Dior is the "Trapeze Line",'in- troduced and first shown in Paris by Yves St. Laurent. This offering from the collection features a stiffened bell skirt and jacket with standaway collar. Black mohair braid edges skirt and jacket, and en- semble is topped with a natural straw hat banded in black velvet. Table Talks 13y Jane Andrews So much •progress has been made in commercial baking that the actual necessity for learning to make bread no longer exists, , but almost everyone loves the smell, texture, and taste of homemade bread. Indeed, busi- nesses have been built on a better loaf of bread than others make; restaurants have suc- ceeded on' the popularity of the homemade bread on their menus; personal reputations for superb cooking have been built on making better biscuits, spoon bread, muffins, or loaves. " :k * Last month many readers have sent their recipes for vari- ous breads to the Christian Sci- ence Monitor. Here are a few, d e ° "How nice it would be if more young housewives became inter- ested in bread making," writes Mrs. Clara Gray. "It's a treat the whole family enjoys. , When I hear, 'Oh, I smell home- made bread — may I have the heel, Grand -mother?" — that's when the real joy of bread mak- ing comes in!" WHITE BREAD 1 package dry yeast s/.r teaspoon sugar % tablespoons shortening (part butter, if you like) 2 tablespoons sugar 2 teaspoons salt 1 tablespoon honey 1.cup scalded milk % cup water 6 cups sifted flour (or less) Add shortening, 2 tablespoons sugar, salt, and honey to the scalded milk; stir until dis- solved. Add 3/.t cup water and let cool to lukewarm; add yeast which has been dissolved in ifs cup lukewarm water with 3A teaspoon sugar; add 3 cups flour and beat until well blended. Add remaining' flour (I 'sometimes find 51/4 cups enough) and mix well. Place on floured board and knead lightly until dough is fixm and elastic. Place in greased bowl, cover, and set in warm place away from drafts. Allow to rise double in bulk. Knead again, after divid- ing into 2 equal loaves. Place in well -greased pans (8x4x3) and allow to rise double in bulk. Bake at 375° F. for 15 minutes, then 350° 3'. about 30 minutes. They should be a rich golden brown all over. 5 5 5 "Here is a pumpernickel:bread that is easy.to make, since it re- quires no kneading," writes Edith Gerdes. PUAIPEkNICKEL BREAD 2 cups boiling water I cup milk 1 tablespoon shortening 2 tablespoons sugar 41/2-2 tablespoons salt 1 cake yeast 1 cup white flour 2 cups whole wheat flour 2 cups rye flour Note: Do not sift flour before measuring. Combine water and milk, and add shortening, sugar, and salt. When mixtt 'e is lukewarm, add yeast. When "yeast is dissolved, add flours, ,packing flour as you dip it for adding. Make dough stiff enough to beat with spoon; beat until it clears pan and spoon. Pour into round pan, 31/2" deep and 81/2" across. Let rise in pan until doubled. Bake. at 450° F, for 10 minutes, then re- duce heat to 350°-400° F. and bake 1 hour, "I would like to share ' our favorite hot roll recipe — these are buttery crisp outside, but soft and fluffy as angel food in- side," writes Mrs. M. L. Horton. HOT YEAST ROLLS 1 cup warm water 1 package yeast (I use the dry yeast) 2 tablespoons sugars 1 teaspoon salt 2 cups flour 1 egg r/ cup butter (soft, but not incited) Dissolve yeast in water in mix- ing bowl. Add sugar, salt, and about one-half the flour; beat thoroughly. Add egg, buttery then gradually beat in remaining flour until smooth. Let rise in warm place. Stir down batter and drop into greased, medium - sized muffin tins.Let rise until double in bulk, Heat oven to 425° F. Bake 10 minutes: Makes 1 dozen gold- en brown rolls. * a "Serve these buttermilk bis- cuits very hot with butter,," writes Emily Delbridge, BUTTERMILK BISCUITS' 2 cups sifted flour 1 teaspoon salt 2 tablespoons shortening s/s cup buttermilk or clabber teaspoon soda dissolved in 1 teaspoon water Put shortening, small amount. of flour, 'and part of buttermilk in bowl and work until smooth. Add soda and water. Add, alter- nately, remaining flour, salt, and buttermilk. Turn Onto floured hoard and knead lightly until smooth. Keep soft but if too soft to handle work in a bit more flour. Roll or flatten with hand. Cut and place on greased baking sheet; bake at 425-450° F. about 10 minutes, Makes about 18. 5 * 5 "These cornmeal flapjacks are light and delicious. Test your griddle to be sure it's hot — and don't overcook," writes Mrs. Olive V. Armstrong. CORNMEAL FLAPJACKS Y cup sifted flour 2 teaspoons baking powder 1 teaspoon salt 1 teaspoon baking soda 1 teaspoon salt VA cups cornmeal 2 eggs, beaten 2 cups buttermilk 2 tbtsps. melted shortening Sift together the flour, baking powder, soda, and salt, Add the corn meal. Mix together beaten eggs, buttermilk and melted shortening. Add liquid mixture to dry mixture, stirring just enough to make a smooth batter. Bake on hot griddle, turning cakes to brown on both sides. Makes about eighteen cakes. Serve with lots of butter and syrup. 5 * * - "I would like to' share one of , my favorite recipes with other Monitor readers," writes Mrs. Ida C. Goodey. DATE -NUT BREAD 1 cup cut-up dates 2 teaspoons soda 2 cups boiling ,water 2 tablespoons shortening 2 cups sugar 2 eggs 4 cups flour 1 teaspoon salt 1 cup nut meats 2 teaspoons vanilla Sprinkle soda over dates; pour boiling water over this. Let cool. Cream shortening and sugar; add eggs and beat. Sift flour with salt and add date mixture. Add nut meats and vanilla. Line 5 No 2 cans with waxed paper; fill half -full of batter. Bake one hour at 325° F.• Vision Of Green I will never forget the dawn when I first approached Corsica. The world, indeed, has few' finer views to offer. I sawlooming out :of the morning twilight a fairy vision of green, tinted with the first rays of the rising sun. Seaward there flashed the warn- ing beam of the light -house ai the Iles Sanguinaires, floating, it seemed, in the rose -hued mists of sunrise. Across the smooth sea came the breath of Corsica, that wonderful perfume of Ma maquis which Napoleon remem- bered even at St, Helena, and which the great Emperor could never think of without emotion, Little by little the morning haze dissolved and I saw tiny villages glued on the mountain sides; in the background the proud Mont' d'Oro . raised its peak into the blue of the sky, clothed with a robe of 'dark - green forests, and with a man- tle of snow about its shoulders. The crimson sun seemed to be setting all the rocks of the western gulfs on fire—a chaos of fantasy. There was a liquid blaze of beauty. A wide sweep and the ship rounded the Iles Sanguinaires, their reddish rocks gleaming and flashing in the sunlight. White and glistening Ajaccio burst in- to view, the birthplace of one of the proudest empires on earth. It is laved- by a gulf of Italian violet -blue, and its ris- ing background, delicious in its Subtle, tender charm, yet with an inspiration of rugged fierce boldness, reaches far' back into snow and 'sky. Ajaccio is situated on the nor- thern side of one of the most beautiful gulfs in Europe. Around the town is a lofty frame of snow -tipped moun- tains from which there slopes the vine -clad countryside. White villas and drab cottages are sprinkled over this wide ex- panse of restful green, out of which, Ajaccio, a white gleam- ing city, the jewel of Corsica, glistens like a diamond powd- ered around with the gold of orange blossoms.. , . It is only a few minutes' walk out of Ajaccio before one steps into the glorious charm of the maquis with its hesitant elu- sive perfume which makes the air of Corsica something unique in the world. It is spread all over the island like a carpet, making the island another Green Isle, another Ireland. The maquis, although it is to be found in one or two, of the nearest parts of the Continent, grows nowhere else to such an enormous extent, It is a mix- ture of eight plants — cistus, lentisculus, arbutus, myrtle, heath, rosemary, juniper, and wild olice—a combination which makes Corsica an enchanted at- mosphere, a .scented isle. "With my eyes shut," said Napoleon at St, Helena, "I would know Corsica by its perfume." It is hard to exaggerate the lure of Corsican scenery; the dark precipices and deep valleys with rivers running through them like molten silver; the chestnut groves, cut by roaring mountain torrents; the little vil- lages which dot the wide land- scape; and the sea which always glitters in the distance.—From "I Went A -Roving," by Leslie Bransby. HE ASKED FOR IT A conceited novelist was walk- ing with a friend when they passed a house on which a table' had recently been fixed to coin memorate a poet who had lives there. "I wonder what they'll pu over my door when I die?" sass the novelist. "House to let," replied the friend. MODERN MONA LISA—Offering a "Gioconda Smile" of her own, fashion model Luce Bona provides a pretty picture after being awarded the 'Grand. Prix Joconde of 1958" by a jury of celebrated painters in Paris. In the background is a repro- duction of the Mona Lisa—the original La Gioconda: