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The Seaforth News, 1958-11-20, Page 2Fond Farewell To A London Square A pungent smell of burning leaves comes up from the Square Gardens and my bal- cony is filled with a soft veil of blue smoke shimmering in the clear autumn sunshine. The scarlet geraniums in the win- dow boxes stand out vividly, their petals glowing in the sun- light. Down below some tiny children are enjoying a last pic- nic; their elder brothers and misters who, through the sum- mer holidays, - tore shouting across the Gardens playing rounders or Red Indians, or space travelers to some new planet, have returned to school. The plane trees have turned a soft lemon yellow. Even the catalpa tree, last to turn color, shows a golden leaf here and there. The pigeons are flying across the Gardens. Next year when they nest in the tree out- side my window, someone else will watch them. Perhaps they, too, will be enchanted by the first cooing but less delighted as the summer passes and the coo- ing seems incessant. And the owl which is hooting from the farther plane tree, though it is still abroad day- light, will can to me in vain, for I am moving away from the square where I have lived for the past seventeen years. It is good to leave a familiar place and look forward to a new one. It will be fun to catch the bus from a different stop: to ex- plore a new shopping center and find those "little shops" tuck- ed away round a corner which stay open at odd hours so that you can purchase the forgotten loaf of bread or jar of pickles. But it also is good to have memories of Square Gardens, and of a home overlooking them where so much protection and safety was found when bombs were falling on London. There was the night when the black- out curtains were flung wide and you listened to the bells ringing out over a city where they had been silent for so many years, and were entirely unashamed of the tears stream- ing down your face. You knew that all your life you would be glad London was your home during the war years, writes Evelyn M. Pinnell in the Chris- tian Science Monitor. Then came difficult years, so much more difficult than the actual wars years when Lon- don had been the home of one large family; when the man who sat next to you on the bus inquired with kindly solicitude how you got on the night be- fore. Naturally he inquired, be- cause he was your brother. It was good to get home dur- ing those difficult years and tend your window boxes on the balcony above the Square Gar- dens. It was at that time that you, in company with half of London, grew tomatoes in your window boxes. Indeed, London almost became one family again over those tomatoes. Whoever aat next to you in the bus — the elderly lady who no longer had a chauffeur for her pre- war Rolls Royce, or the office eharlady, each carried tender- ly a few tomato plants and ex- changed tips •as to the correct way of planting thein. Even the bus conductor would join in the conversation; and when he unlocked his private cubbyhole for some change it was mare than likely you would see some familiar plants tucked away for him to take home, But however much of an ad- venture it was to pick your own tomatoes, window boxes are in- tended to growing flowers. So there were hosts of golden daf- fodils swaying in the soft spring breezes that swept down the Square Gardens. or standing upright and still in the moon- light, bathed in silver, huge trumpet blooms growing from the tiny shoots which not so long before had peeped through window boxes blanketed in snow: • Then there were salmon pink and scarlet geraniums, white and deep purple petunias, some- thing different each year, until at last you had decided that scarlet geraniums against the. back curtain of green trees was the best choice. Always from the windows of your fiat there had been green to look upt upon; evergreen shrubs in the winter, and in the spring not only the plane trees, and later the catalpa trees, to watch growing greener every day, but pink May and flower- ing cherry. Though seasons follow one another in orderly fashion, me- mories jump happily from sea- son to season and year to year; from summer " days when you watched Peter, who lived in the flat above you, crawling on his rug in the Gardens, while his father and mother watched him front their deck chairs, to wintertime so little later — or so it seemed when, tightly buttoned up in his blue reefer coat and swathed in a scarlet muffler, he followed Michael's pram on his scooter. One day, his mother wheeled his younger brother rotind the Gardens, the last leaf on the plane tree above fluttered down on the pram, settling on Michael's upturned face, and the two brothers chuckled with delight. But such memories are not for today. There are "Change of Address" cards to be sent one of them to Peter and Michael's parents, for they. too have moved away from a London Square and started on the ad- venture of a new home. "Human Flies" With Nerves Of Steel When Marten Jabowsky emi- grated from his native Poland he was - determined to go up in the world. He did, For 45 years Marten has earn- ed his living as a human fly, He has climbed and climbed steadily, window sill by window sill, up the sheer sides of some of New York's highest sky- scrapers, including the 1,250 -foot high Empire State Building. Marten has been handling con- tinuously some 900 of the Em- pire State's 6,500 windows for the last 12 years. He goes up, sill by sill, and when he gets to the top he crawls in and takes the elevator down to ground floor level and starts all over again. When Marten reaches the 101st storey, the city of tall buildings lies far below him, as though seen from the window of an aeroplane. There he is, this nerveless human fly, his feet on the win- dow sill's edge, his whole body leaning back from the wall, with only a stout strap between him and a ghastly plunge. People who stop to look up from the street below feel their stomachs turn over. But Marten. the human fly who makes the groundlings heave, just doesn't understand. Some day an accident ie bound to happen? Marten nods; admits it. He holds up a damaged finger. "Pinched in a steel window frame," he explains, There are men like Marten Jabowsky who crawl up the steel girders of the Eiffel Tower with paint pots and brushes. When they get to the top they take tl.e elevator down and start all over again. There are men like that on tee Forth Bridge, too., Human flies, these astonishingly nerveless men don't understand when they become the objects of admiring onlookers who can't look down from any height without a qualm. Obey. the traffic signs — they are placed there for YOUR SAFETY. DEPTH BOMB — Displaying her championship form, Zale Parry, winner of the world's underwater depth diving championship, takes it easy on the beach. A movie and television starlet to boot. Zale made her record dive of 209 feet off the California coast But at the moment, the diving belle is relaxing between sccnes of the television series "Sea Hunt:' MIGHTY MIDGET — Candidate for the smallest of the small cars is this three -wheeled, single seat Rollers, shown here snuggling up to a pretty model at the Paris Automobile Show. The British made vehicle is capable of a top speed of 50. miles an hour. LE V c& Arattews. The following are a few inter- esting ideas for some of those. "main -dish -in -a -casserole" meals that are so good when the weather becomes a bit wintry. LAYERED MEAT CASSEROLE 2 tablespoons prepared mustard Dash nutmeg 3 cups seasoned mashed potatoes 3 medium onions, chopped '/ cup butter 3 cups diced cooked meat 1 cup meat stock or broth 1 bay leaf 1 teaspoon salt %i teaspoon each, pepper and ground cloves 11 cup bread crumbs Add. 1 tablespoon of mustard and the nutmeg to mashed pota- ties. Saute onion in 3 table- spoons butter about 10 minutes, stirring frequently. Add meat, broth, bay leaf, salt, pepper, cloves and remaining mustard; cover and cook 15 minutes, In buttered casserole, arrange lay- ers of potato and meat, starting and ending with potatoes. Sprin- kle with bread crumbs and dot with remaining butter. Bake at 425° F. 20 minutes or until hot and brown. r * r •HAM AND CORN SCALLOP ee pound pasteurized process cheese spread 1 cup fine, soft bread crumbs 1 tablespoon butter, melted 11, cups canned whole kernel corn, drained 1 cup diced cooked ham et cup chopped green pepper 1 tablespoon minced onion Melt cheese in top of double boiler over hot water. Toss bread crumbs in melted butter. Add corn, ham, green pepper, and onion and half the bread crumbs to melted cheese and mix well. Pour into greased 1 -qt. casserole, Sprinkle remaining crumbs around edges of casser- ole. Bake at 300° F. for 30 min- utes. SPANISHCHICKEN 1 8 -pound frying chicken, cut in pieces !i cup fat 13e cups long grain rice 1 teaspoon salt it teaspoon each paprika and black pepper 21/4 cups tomatoes 1 cup chicken bouillon 1 clove garlic, chopped 12 whole small onions, peeled 1 pimiento, sliced 1 can mushrooms (4 -ounce) Wash and dry chicken pieces; brown in hot fat over medium heat for about 10 minutes. Turn frequently, so pieces brown even- ly. Place in a 3 -quart casserole in alternate layers with rice. Add salt, pepper, paprika, tomatoes, bouillon (this can be made with hot water and bouillon cubes), garlic, onions and liquid from mushrooms. Cover and bake at 350° F. for about 1 hour, Remove from oven just before serving time and arrange pi- mientos and mushrooms in an attractive pattern on top.- Cover and put back in oven for an extra 15 minutes. Add more liquid if rice seems too dry. a * BAKED FISH CASSEROLE 2 cups cooked or canned fish, flaked 3 cups corn flakes 1z% cups milk - 2 tablespoons mayonnaise 2 tablespoons chopped parsley 1% tablespoons minced. onion 2 tablespoons lemon Jule, i1 teaspoon thyme 111 teaspoon salt Dash pepper 2 eggs, well beaten Crush corn flakes into fine crumbs; combine with milk. Add mayonnaise, parsley, onion, lem- on juice and seasonings. Mix well. Stir in eggs and fish. Pour into well -greased casserole or into individual casseroles. Bake at 375° F. about 45 minutes. n r a BEEF IN SOUR CREAM 1 pound round steak, cut into 1 -inch strips 2 tablespoons fat 1 clove garlic, minced cup chopped onion 14 cup button mushrooms and Iiquid (2 -oz. can) teaspoon salt Dash pepper 11fs cups condensed eousomme (10% -oz. can) 4 ounces elbow macaroni 2 tablespoons flour cup cold water li cup cooked peas 1 cup sour cream Buttered bread crumbs • Brown meat in fat in heavy skillet. Add garlic, onion and mushrooms and brown. Season with salt and pepper. Add con- somme, cover, reduce heat and simmer until meat is tender (about 1 hour). While meat is simmering, cook macaroni in salted water until tender (about 7 mins.). Drain and rinse, Mix flour and water and add to meat mixture, stirring constantly un- til slightly thickened. Stir in peas, sour cream and macaroni, mixing until well blended. Pour into tri -qt. casserole and top with buttered bread crumbs. Bake at 350° F. 15 minutes. Serves 4. Make Your Own Yule Logs To enjoy a real old-fashioned Christmas this year, make some Yule logs out of old newspapers. Chemicals are the secret of these brightly - burning logs. When newspapers are rolled tightly, tied and -soaked in solutions of different chemicals, they burn slowly and produce a rainbow of colored flames. The logs take about a month to dry, so better start now if they are, to be ready for Christmas. Put 2 pounds coarse salt into a pail - preferably a polythene or wooden one, since the chemi- cals will corrode metal — 2 pounds bluestone and 2 gallons boiling water. Now add one ounce of any of the following chemi- cals, depending on the flame color desired: strontium nitrate which burns with a red flame; bismuth nitrate which burns crimson; antimony chloride which burns blue; barium -chloride or borax, both of which give a green flame; or potassium chloride which burns purple. Put the rolled up newspapers into the solution and let them soak until the liquid is absorbed. Don't use slick paper magazines because they won't absorb liquid easily.. Dry the logs on a rack till they are completely dry. When they are put on a holiday fire they'll burn with an array of glowing colors. • The older generation thought nothing of getting up at 5 o'clock in the morning—and the younger generation doesn't think so much of it either. Women On The Vengeance Trail The beautiful, 19 - year - old Greek girl hurried into church, lit a candle and knelt down, While the taper burned steadily she prayed for forgiveness fox the terrible act of vengeance she was about to commit Then she took a revolver and went straight to the flat of her ex -fiance, a wealthy merchant who had jilted her and married another girl. "Now you must pay for your treachery!" she screamed and, pulling out her pistol, blazed away at him from point-blank range. The man collapsed, with five bullets in his chest, and died immediately. When women are on the veng- eance trail they often take ex- treme measures . . as Pierre, a Paris greengrocer, discovered to his cost. Pierre was attracted to a bux- om widow from Barcelona who was in her 40's. They married and were happy enough together for some months, until Pierre spied • 19 -year-old Yvette, e petite blonde, working in the cake shop next door He took her out, dined and wined her handsomely, and she fell deeply. in love with him, "But I can't marry you — you see how it is with me and my Rosa," he told her. "You must! You belong to me!" insisted the girl. "But Rosa will never let n:e go," he wailed in dismay, Yvette sought an interview with Rosa, "You've no right to cling to a man who no longer loves you," she declared. "But he is my husband," Rosa retorted. "You wretch!" cried the girl, and leaping forward, she -grab- bed the Spanish woman by the hair and dragged her to her knees. At that moment, Pierre came into the room. "Why are you fighting like this?" he demanded. The girl took one look at hint and shouted; Betrayer!" "Really, Yvette," he answered, chidingly. "You should no better than to interfere in a married man's household." "Oh — you beast!" gulped the girl, and stormed out. That night she broke into the greengrocer's shop and threw his fruit and vegetables all over the place. Opening up next morning, Pierre was shocked by the chaos —damage to the tune of hund- reds of pounds. But there was worse to follow. For, going home at midday, he found his Rat in ruins also, but it was not Yvette's work. On the' floor, amid broken chairs, torn tablecloths and china fragments lay a note from Rosa, saying she was finished with such a faithless husband! It another case it was a hus- band's hobby that caused do- mestic strife, A highly respect- able German upset his wife be- cause of his hobby — goldfish breeding. All his evenings at home, after his day's work at an accountancy desk, were spent doting over his latest specimens. "Pity I'm not a goldfish, Klaus!" said his wife to him one night. "What do you mean?" he demanded, "Well, if I were, perhaps you'd give me a little attention," size explained. "What nonsense!" he retorted. But he continued to devote his leisure time almost wholly io his fish. At last his wife could stand it no longer. "I'm sick of you and your stupid goldfish;" she stormed, leaping up suddenly from the supper table. "Since you love them so much, you can have the lot!" So saying, she grabbed the nearest glass tank from the side, board and hurled it at him. • Then, before he could stop her, she hurled three more tanks at him. Something dreadful might have happened but, in the midst of this row, a neighbour tapped at the door and asked if she could leave some herrings in the fridge. The accountant's wife cried out hysterically: "It's fish every- where in this madhouse!" With that she rushed, out to her pat- ents' home. However, a fortnight late, when tempers had cooled off, i1' goldfish enthusiast decided it was better' to have no - hobby than no wife. Selling the re- maining stock, he persuaded his missus to return home. Now he is going in for hamsters! The outraged feelings of spin- sters must also be considered and guarded against. A 40 -year • old librarian in the north had great expectations of • a man see first met as a book borrower' The librarian, whom we'll call Grace, used to invite him to has flat for evening meg Is, But, to her dismay, he always kept their friendship strictly p l a t o n c Eventually, she decided he need ed encouragement, So Grace began to cook him food with a love potion worked into it. It seemed to have heti no -effect on him. But one even- ing when he felt off-colour and ate very little, she herself ha 1 to eat the bulk of the food con- taining her potion. Suddenly, she threw her acme around his neck, kissed him frenziedly, and cried, "Hector, I'm crazy about you!" But Hector wriggled free and said "Calm down." At that, she picked up the heaviest volume handy, a com- plete edition of Shake..peare and, flinging it at his head cried "Go to the devil, you cold- blooded hookworm!" But it's not always romantic attachments that cause females to fly off the handle. Claire, a hot - headed 18 year - old New York typist, became furious with her boss at a papermaking firm because he .rebuked herr for spelling mistakes. That evening, Claire went to a black magic session in a Green- wich Village coffee shop. She bought herself a little stuffed doll, a deadly magic incantation and a black needle. "That's my boss!" she repeat- ed to herself, jabbing the needle again and again into the doll's heart. Next day her boss, by a re- markable coincidence, had a severe attack of 'flu. To Claire's dismay, however, the boss returned, restored to health, a few days later. Told about Claire's secret vengeance rites, he sent for her and de- manded the truth. When she confessed. he an- nounced: "You're fired! I can't employ such a vindictive type!" A hobo knocked on the door at an inn called "George and the Dragon." The landlady opened the door, and the hobo asked for some- thing to eat. "Nb!" she growled, slamming the door in the man's face. The hobo knocked again, and the landlady opened the door. "May I talk to George, please?" he said. ALL BY HIMSELF - An unwelcome guest on the main street_ of Wakefield, may be wandering (if skunks wonder) why the streets are deserted. Pedestrians kept their distance until the striped fellow disappeared.