The Seaforth News, 1945-06-21, Page 6VOTE As YOU LIKE...
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"SALA
CHRONICLES
of GINGER FARM
By
Gwendoline P. Clarke
a s • r s
after several days of fine weath-
er complete with warm, - drying
winds, our thoughts were hopeful-
ly turning once again to spring
seeding—only it would seem more
like sunuuer seeding at this Tate
date. However call it spring or
summer—it doesn't make any dif-
ference—for it is raining again,
just another good old soaker. So
that's that.
Yesterday we had a houseful of
family week -enders and we all
went for a drive. It is said that
misery likes company but I can
assure you it didn't make Partner
or I feel the least bit better to pass
farm after farm in no better condi-
tion as to field crops than our own.
Sante of the wheat wasn't too bad
bet we didn't see one field of spring
grain that showed any promise at
*
Cies drive too& us to Halton air-
port—a place that we like to visit
about once a year anyway. We re-
memlesr it from the time when
construction work was first started
—when there was nothing there
at all other than a corner store,
a ftw farm houses, and construc-
tion gangs and machinery at work.
Nov, the runways, the various
aeroplane plants, Trans -Canada
sheds and dwelling houses cover
acres and acres of land. Any time
we went there during the last few
years we always found the place
seething with activity, planes of
every description eomieg and go-
ing alt the time. Yesterday it was
very different—in fact the place
seemed dead. It certainly looked
as if the war was over. Trainer
planes were conspicuous only by
their absence. A lone Lancaster
took off, circled around a few tines
and then landed again. One Trans-
Canada Airliner was pushed out
of its shed, given a warming -up and
then left alone. Around five o'clock
a plane came in from Chicago.
Ten passengers alighted—as non-
chalantly as if they were stepping
off a street -car. The plane was re-
fuelled, mail and baggage put
aboard and in about twenty min-
utes she took off again, this time
for Ottawa and Montreal and with
only six passengers. And how I
wish I had been one of them. I
hope it may yet be my good for-
tune to go up hi the air at (east
once before I go underground.
* * *
To review events further back
in the week: We had a letter from
son Bob, at present stationed in
HARNESS & COLLARS
Farmers Attention — Consult
aboutyour nearest Harness
StacoHa nessSupplies
We sell our goods only through
Gods dealer. Tour local he goods tare
right, and so are our -prices.
We manufacture in our fac-
tories — Harness, Horse Col-
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42 Wellington St. E., Toronto
Germany—and if you think he
Nazis are completely subdued take
note of this—and remember it was
written 8 days after peace was de-
clared. I quote from the letter. "So
far I carry on, dodging mines as
usual—and bullets too. A Jerry
sniper put a bullet into my instru-
ment panel yesterday. I got away
pretty quick I can tell you and told
the M.P.'s. I don't know whether
they got the guy or not. I sure
hope so as he had shot four of our
guys that day already. It happened
as I was driving through a Ger-
man town. The bullet carne
through the back of the cab—and
I'll swear it made a detour around
my head before it smashed into
the instrument panel. Now I have
another hole for fresh air anyway.
Half an hour later I nearly piled
my truck up because I had to take
to the ditch to avoid hitting a Jerry
civilian. Today a Jerry asked me
for a cigarette. I opened my case,
took out a smoke, lit it myself and
just looked at him. I never said
a word but he caught on pretty
darn quick."
When one gets a letter like that
and realises that our boys are still
at the mercy of death -dealing snip-
ers one gets rather disgusted at
the verbal sniping that is going on
in our own country, particuiarly in
political circles.
Inner Meaning
A Toronto Collegiate classroom
(about 16 -year-olds) was this week
diverted when a student went to
the blackboard, wrote:
CCF — Carefully Concealed
Fascism.
-Financial Poet.
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ISSUE 23-1946
LOUIS ARTHUR CUNNINGHAM
e CHAPTER IV
"We had to rts—rot quickly—
More planes were coming over tins
time, a bomb set lire to the cottage
and men were parachuting down.
All that night we ran when it was
safe to ado so. Then we met an old
peasant with his cart and he start-
ed us on the road to Paris and
there Meridel found us. It was God
who helped her to find us - and
bring us here."
"Yes," said Roger softly and his
eyes were steady on Rudolph's, "It
was indeed God who helped."
"And He will take care of Bon-
hontine Fricot up in heaven," said
Rosine, "And punish the one who
killed hint. Bonhomrue Fricot was
bent and his beard was long. He
would hartn no one."
"It is murder to hill like that,'
said Pol Martin. "Then to laugh,
to smile as this one did after—"
"It is done with now. Finished,
eh, Rudolph?" said Roger.
* *
"Madame requests that you, be
ready within the hour—you, too,
M. Roger—you are all going to
Montreal."
"The princess, too?" Roger sat
up eagerly.
But madame, during the pleasant
ride to the city, made Roger sit up
front with the chaffeur of the an-
cient ar. Her bright black eyes
glittered impishly. "Later the prin-
cess may wish to ride up the Mount
in a barouche and perhaps you'd
like to go with her."
"Would yon like that, Meridel?"
Roger asked. "It is really very
beautiful."
"But yes. I should love that,
monsieur. I have not been on a
real mountain since I left Gratzen.
I shall look forward to -it."
And so, in the warm, languorous
evening they drove up the moun-
tain and Roger told her of Maison-
neuve, of the golden history of the
great city whose countless lights
glittered in the dusk. "You will be
happy, Meridel—Iters among us.
It Is a friendly land, a friendly peo-
ple,
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* * -*
But they were at tate Lop of the
Mount now and the barouche had
stopped and the obsequious coach-
man was waiting to help made-
moiselle alight. For a long while
they stood looking down in silence
at the city, at the blue distance,
the star-spangled. sky over the
Adirondacks.
"It is so lovely,"- she said, "so
lovely,' so serene. Nothing. will
ever come to shatter the peace of
those skies?"
"Not in our time, my dear. None
of us have yet learned to thank
God sufficiently for that. I ant so
glad — so glad you are here, Meri-
del, safe and cared for and happy.
You are happy now, aren't you?"
"Happier than I ever dared hope
in those days-"
"I — I should like to make you
happier still. If I may hope—"
* * *.
She smiled at hint, looked up at
the broad shoulders that bulked
ahove her, at his face, dark and
lean -.jarred and so wise for one so
young, Strange, swift world. They
had met only last night and now
he spoke to her of love. She could
see it in his earnest eyes, read it
in the rough tones of his voice, But
her heart vvas not yet receptive to
love and she wondered if it would
ever be again—and then she
thought of the night in Gratzen'
so much like this, when she and
that other youth, so young and gay
and glad of heart had cimbed the
mountain -road to the castle.
"Yon mal"ce -my heart glad, Rog-
cr. Bnt you do! What you would
say is always sweet to hear, but 1
—it is too soon for me. It seems
of small importance—our own loves
and hates, when hatred has become
a title of the sea and love a van-
ished army."
"It is one of the things we can
cling to—so it seems to me. Cling
to hungrily. But it is perhaps too
soon, Aferidel, After a little while
Perhaps.--"
"No. I have never before met
anyone like you, any girl who made
me feel as you have ,lone. And
the princess part has little to do
with it."
"I am glad of that. You would
have found me the same if I'd been
a scullery staid?"
"Yes, the sante."
* * •
She thought of Michel, who had
been sad because she had changed
front a peasant girl to a princess.
As if it mattered; as if that should
discourage him and drive him away
on his lonely road! But it had' been
different then, even though the old
castle was already tottering on its
rocky buttresses and the winds of
change were rustling around its
keep.
They drove down the mountain
and somehow he was not unhappy,
though he had been unable to say
the things that were clamouring to
be uttered. They wandered about
the city, into paces where Roger
had never been before. Doors and
windows were open; the night was
sultry the air charged with the
threat of thunder. Front a little
basement restaurant the music of
a violin and a piano carate Illtingly
up to them and Meridel's fingers
closed hard on his wrist as she
stopped, chin lifted, eyes bright,
like one lost in a°dark wood who
hears the winding of a golden horn.
"It is a song of Gratzenl" she
said. "It is a song of my people!
Con, —come quickly, please!"
• * *
Roger sharing her eagerness, fol-
lowed her down the steps into the
little taproom. It seemed to be
three-quarters filled by the huge
man in a white apron who carne
forward to meet them, a wide inti
an his ruddy fate. He stopped
sud''lenly and tris little shoe -button
eyes all but popped from their
cushions of fat. ."Gracious lady!
highness! It is you. I see here—
here!" - And, by some miracle, he
bowed low until they saw only the
shiny bald pate fringed by long
white locks.
The boy and girl left piano and
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fiddle and cause to stand behind
him and bend low in an Old -World .
curtest'.
"A[y friends!" Aferidel's voice
was gentle, her eyes shone. Site
stretched out her hands to them
and they kissed the white fingers
reverently. "Jules Goujon—Jules of
the Coq d'or, and little Emil and
little Magda," She looked fondly
on the old, ratan and his grandchil-
dren. Their mother was dead their
father would be fighting if life was
in hint yet. "It is so good—so good
to find you here, my friends, my
own people."
* * *
"11 is like seeing heaven, High-
ness. You will sit, yes, please, and
this gallant airman—here in my
inti."
"Goo]—it is good, this Canada,"
he said. "Here we can hope to
build our happiness once again.
You, Princess, are well here?"
"Well, indeed, Jules—and Pot
Martin and little Rosine. We live
at a grand chateau Philibert which
belongs to Uncle Rudi, who is a
very great man here and very rich.
You will remember the Baron
Rudi, my friend?"
"Well I remember him, High-
ness," said Jules thinking ony brief-
ly of the long, unsettled score
chalked behind the bar of his inn in
that far-off land, "He was a gay
young man, the baron. I am happy
that the world has used him well.
Tell hint he is always welcome at
my inn, which I call to the Coq-
d'or in memory of old tines."
"Old times—do you recall, my
good friend, the time I came to
your tavern—on fair day—with the
tall, red-headed one, and we had
(dinner .together—roast goose It
was—"
(To Be Continued)
World Sugar Stock
Lowest In Years
Canada's Sugar Ration cut a fur-
ther five pounds for the remainder
of 1942 is a reminder of the vast
adjustments that have to be made
before world economy becomes
normal again, says the Ottawa
Citizen: "The lower ration will bring
the per capita consumption of
Britain, the United States and
Canada to an annual rate of
70.8 pounds. The 1944 averagee
were: U. S., 89;Great Britain, 71.5;
and Canada, 85.5 pounds per per-
son per year. World sugar stocks
at the begimting of 1946 were 4a
million tons, lowest in many years.
Last year the carry-over was 5.6
million tons, and in 1943 it was
6.6 million tons.
Last year, according to the St -
Catharines Standard, Southwestern
Ontario alone produced 40,000,000
pounds of beet sugar, and one au-
thority states that the amount could
be doubled this year, if the growers
had priority on farm help. The
third largest refinery in the world,
at Chatham, was idle last year. It
is an important subject, in view
of the recent reduction in the sugar
ration. And sugar will be short un-
til Europe gets back to beet pro-
duction.
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9-499
a
•