Evening Star Newspaper, March 11, 1923, Page 72

BARRY STAGES A Two Minds With the Thought of Biskra in the Big Desert, Landing in the Moonli§ht From the Hurricane ' Deck of a Camel; India, With a Trip Through the Taj Mahal; Japan, Furnishing Sights Along the Paddy Fields, - at Getting Started, But and China, for a Sail Up the Hoang-ho or Some Other Cute River—Barry, a Bit Slow Once Under Way Is a Speed Artist. BY SEWELL FORD. RUST Inmez! 1 don't know whether it's because of her limited vocabulary or on ac- count of her one-track mind, but when she gets to asking personal questlons she surely can make you squirm, if you have anything to squirm about. She's apt to be just as dellcate in her work as a dentist | who's in a hurry to get home to din- ner. And if there's any special topic You'd a little rather she wouldn't open, that's the particular one she'll start jabbing at. “I see that Barry Plat's comin’ *round again,” the remarks the other evening. Clever of vou to notice it. lne'z." says 1. “Didn’t sneak up the fire escape or hoist himself in through the dumb waiter. did he? As I re- member, he has come brazenly to the door and rung the bell on the last two occaslons.™ “Sure! I was here,” says lInez. seen them big roses he brought, too. “Then vour eyesight is still good,” 1 *I THINK I'D LIKE TO GO TO BISKRA FIRST. ®ays . “You cun distinguish a haif- dozen American beauties at a of eight feet. Congratulation “You and him musta made eh. Trilby May ' she goes ou 1 will admit that just then it would liave given me much satistaction have grabbed Inez by the and rhaken her until every was gone from her permanent wave But one doesn't hundle u 180-pound Swede girl in that reckle: ae least, no one of my build. Beside: 1here was only friendly interest shin- ing from her placid gray “Listen. Tn says I ! have known each oth more n two vears, haven't we? For 2 t Lalf of that time we've been zood chums. All last summer and 1all he lived in the same house us. 1 had a part in his first Tm interested in his w he's a nice boy. and he says ow. that's the whole atory. 's nothing mysterious or tremendously exciting when brings me a few flowers.” it up: “Barry for and NEZ (ook that with merely a placid Llink or two and didn’t even trou- ble to shift her gum. fou did bus ugh.”" she in Didun't you? [ expect I sighed and hunched my mhoulers. “Inez. ¥s 1. “you never siould have left Tamarack Junction; for, with that small-town mind of Yours, a big place like New York cramps your style. If You had stayed in Minnesota you might have quali- ficd as the village broadcaster. Jou're only a friendly pest, None of which registers with Inez. 1 thought you bust up,” she insists. “We did not,” says I. “Mainly be- cause there was nothing to fracture. while back, th Harry has been busy for the last two | months on a new play. Now it's about finished and he's likely to drop around tonight to talk it over with me. You'll be going to the movles, I suppose? “It he's gonna read stuff. 1 guess I says she. “You don't mind, Personally. Ine: try to bear up.” .For the space of three minutes or more Tnez yanked thoughtfully at the yepsin and 1 was hoping she had dropped the subject for good. But I might have known better. She had says 1, shall a lot on that piece that's runnin’ now. ain't he?” she ask- ed at length. “He should be,” says I. “‘The Bhadow on the Door is having ca- pacity houses nearly every night and ihey've just sent outa road com- pan You must made a good deal of ‘money sellin’ out that Handy Andy usiness, too,” she goes on. “Well, not enough to settle the French claims” says I, “but I no Jonger feel that 1 have to watch the <clock when I take a taxi” Another interval of rhythmic jaw smotfon from Inez. * she breaks out at last, “why don’t you two get smarried, then?” I had felt it coming, however, and nvas braced for it. “There are several xood reasons, Inez” says I, “but, chiefly, I'm not rushing to the altar because 1 am .not being invited.” “Hey™" sa rhe, ‘gawping at me 'Ok I thought you two, had_ it all to| shoulders | ripple | s manner— | he | Here | fixed up and was only waitin’ until you got ready. Is he kinda slow, or what?” “Say, for the love of soup, lay off the intimate details, will you?” I pro- tested. “Who do you think you are— a father confessor or the prosecuting attorney? And doesn't it ever occur to you, Inez, that on such a delicate and personal matter T might not want to be chatty, even with you Evidently that was one of her miss- ing thoughts. “Huh!” says she. “You gonna be an old maid—always?" “That seeme to be the flattering prospect,” says I. ‘What you gonna do then?” she in- | | si | 66 A H. Inez, old dear!” says I. “Now you opened up a line that T can be truly eloquent on. Not that I've settled on anything, but I'm mak- ing plans, and I don’t know what can be more fascinating. Mapping out a route through the purple mists of the future! Spending golden tomorrows | [66YRTELL." says he, as he finished las reckless as a bootlegger's bride, e ABOUT IT.” and then calling them all in to do it over again in another way. Tthink 1 shall go traveling.” “Where to?’ demands lnez one of them tours?” “Distinetly not “Chey're | a1 right for those who lice "em. As| for me, when T travel on a schedule I want to be paid for it: and T don't | |want to be husiled through Lurope and the near east with a crowd of | Main stresters, whose big moment | comes when they can sit 1 tront of | {the sphinx and scribble picture post- | cards to fiiends back home. No, Tnez, when T start wandering off I| mean to go with both feet loose and | no return ticket. I shall want to feel | free to stay at any place that seems | good for a day or a month or a vear. | { and I shall avoid the three-starred spots | and the regulation tourist stunts as cavefully as [ do the seeing China- town busses here.’” i T bet you'd get lost.” vays she “I hope to.” says 1. “In the Sahara, it Tcan. I'm sure no sheik would | steal me. 1 can take a chance.| {But T think 1'd like to go to Biskra | | first.” “What's that”’ asks Inez. “It's @ place in the big desert, that's all 1 know about it says 1. “Just| | think, Inez! Me landing there some tmoonlight night on the hurricane | |deck of a camel, Arabs pitching my | | tent under a stufted date-palm, while | I stroll into a moorish coffee house to | jeat weird things as I watch green- | turbaned, white-roged cut-throats glare at dancing Nautch girls over their “Sounds silly to me,” says Inez. bet you'd soon get sick of seein’ noth- ing but sand. Then what—if you could get away?” “Back to Cairo to catch a P. & O. steamer that would take me down through the Red sea to Java and Cey- lon, where the tall forests blaze with scarlet parrots and birds of paradise,” says I “Then over to India, to prowl through the Taj Mahal and go folt- ing into strange bazaars in a covered | ox cart. I'd find the Vale of Cash mere | and*the tomb of Raj el Kut. Then when the rains started I'd hike out for Japan and go for days in a 'ricksha past paddy fields and over black mountains until T saw where the Yellow sea begins. Next I'd do China and go sailing hundreds of miles up the Hoang-ho or some other { cute river. Things like that.” And then came Barry Platt to read his revised version of the last act. Aside from such little items as a bet- ter-fitting sult, a fullness of the cheeks and & toning down of that cocky air which he used to have as a cub reporter, he was nearly the same Barry I had first met in the West 58th street boarding .house. Success had neither aged nor hardened him: True, the blue eyes had lost some of their sparkle and his mouth corners no| longer-curled into a smile at the least excuse. - But his face was still round and hopelessly boyish. I watched htm curiously as he read the dialogue. He had learned how to work hard, how to ‘hamme- out stuff that the public would pay to see and how to ‘| convince the producers that he was a real playwright. But back of that was the same whimsical, vearning, diffident, friendly Youth with the' queer moods who had first been daz- “On | | | A PLACE IN A BIG DESERT. THAT'S ALL I KNOW {on, “I discovered you.” aled by the statuesque beauty of Inez- and then had grown so chummy with. me, the act, “how do you think it will go?” don’t see how it can help being another knockout, Barry,” savs I “You never can tell” says he. “Anyway, I put into it the beet T had. Lord! But it's been a grind, too!” “You've been working nights again—on black coffee and clga- rettes?’ I asked. He nodded. “Twice for a twenty- four-hour stretch,” says he. “That's bad,” says I. “What do you think you're made of? Hold out your hand. T thought so., Your nerves and digestion are all shot to pieces. One or two more sessions like that and some speclalist will be sending | you to a sanatorium.” “I know,” says he. ing it too strong lately.” “Anita Norman, among others? I suggested. -~ “Anita is a great little party .plan- admits Barry. “This is her first season as leading lady, vou know, and she isn’t missing a trick.. Her ve been ambition seems to be to try out every cabaret and roadhouse in the metro- rolitan district.” “No wonder you felt the need of writing another play,” says L “Such ambitions run into money, don't they?" § “Oh, dow't think I'm financing all those affairs. I'm not such a simp,” protests Barry. “No, Anita has pick- ed up two or three old sports who are eager to flash their rolls when the waiter comes with the bill. But she generally insists that T must trail along, too; and when I try to duck she gets peevish. She has ‘even threatened to chuck her part, too. So. as author and producer, it's part of my job to keep her in good humor. But this getting home in the cold gray dawn plays hob with the next day's worl “[ can imagine “Mixed with mors or hootch, T suppose?®” “Oh, ves’ savs Bar “And even the-best of it is so much polson to me. Generally I'm a.couple of days recovering from a mild spree and one or two more picking up the threads. To make up I've been hiding in my | rooms and having these orgles of | work. It's a silly way to live, Trilby May. But I used to get rung in with the newspaper gang in much the same way when I was doing reporting.” . “I remember,” sivs I. “But then| you were fresh from Utica and New | York had gone to vour head. What a, kid you were when you fell 36 hard for Inez at the boarding house!” “And then, after a while,” he went it might,” less says T. bootleg | “You mean,” savs I, “that after the solemn Inez vou.found me a good comig relief.” * ok Kok B.\P.P.Y shook his head, "It was ou who steadied me down,” says he, “encouraged me to write.my firat play and then sold it for me.” ‘At the time,” says I, “I had noth- ing else to do. 2 T “You've been a mighty good pal, Trilby Ma: he insists. “We've had some Wully times together. I wish—:" Which was where I broke in. I knew I shouldn't. There was some- thing in Barry's eyes that ought to have told me here was the time for me to hold my tongue. But I never could allow him to get sentimental. Something always urges me to crash in on a streak like that and stop it 1 don't know why. Perhaps I'm afraid hell slop over and be silly about it, and I should hate that. At any one else I could laugh, but not at Barry. -And nobody else ever tried. Anyway, I threw the switch. “I know,” says I. “You wish I aidn’t haye carroty red hairand green eves and freaky disposition. The color of my hair and eyes used to bother me, too, after I got to be fif- teen and the boys at the junction school ‘began calling me_‘Carrot Top’ and other names. And once at a party young Jim Feltner turned sulky because he drew me for a basket sup- per partner. When I found oat what was the matter with him I slapped his fdce and went off to eat my sand- wiches and .cake all alone, but when I 8ot home I wept myself to sleep. Those were the last tears, however, that I evér shed on hocount of my’ faclal color schemie, and Pvé quit slapping young: men_ yho. are:frank ‘ene to show that they don’t find me fasci- nating. So you're perfectly safe, Barry.” : As he sat there listening a “hurt look came into his blue eyes. “You never would take me seriously, Trilby May.” he protested. “Am I stfll such a callow youth?" “About 90 per cent goodness!” savs I * % % x E stared at me, puzsled. “I don’t kndw just what you mean by that” says he. “I never could uite make you out, ybu know. Of course, you may be right. But hanged it I feel so juvenile. I'm tired—dead tired. ‘Naturally,” says 1, “after a siege like that. But you've finished the plece, and it's almost boupd to be a g0. Now you can play around and in a week’or so you'll be as good as new.” “I need a longer rest than that,” #ays Barry. “Three months, at least; maybe I'm moing to take it, too. Do you know what 1 mean to do?” Take a room at the Players' Club and have breakfast in bed every morning at 10:307" says I “That's a poor guess,” says he. I shall get as far away-from Broad- way an I can and stay away antil I'm homesick to get bac! “That listens rensible,” says ‘Where wlll you strike for frst?” “You couldn’t guess,” says he. you ever hear of Blskra?" “Eh?" says T. & “It's the jumplng-off place in the Sahara”*he goes on. “I've merely read about it, but I've always wanted to go there. Not just on a fiylng trip, but to settle down for a few boy—thank I weeks and get to know the desert— | see the sunrise over the =and hills, wander out in that brilllant moon- lght and watch the camel trains come in through the sandstorm. must be fascinatfng and restful. Or does it seem just wild and foolish to | Sou T dldn't answer ih 12 just then. 1 didn't want So 1 gave him one of my quizzing smiles. “What next, Barry boy, after Biskra?' 1 asked. “Ol, other queer places” suys he. “Indfa and China and Japan. I'dlike to go knocking about. with no par ticular program: just stopping whero I wanted to and going on when I got good and ready. But I'd like to see some of the odd corners of the world and some of the strange people. ‘All alone?” I suggested. “Wouldn't it be ratier lonesome at times?" “I suppose it would,” says he. “But I don’t know any one who would care to do ‘that sort of thing with me— that is, any one who I'm sure would be congental.” “You'd need to know them very well to be certain on that point, wouldn’t you?' I asked. e nodded. That's the trouble,” says he. “It's the acid test, traveling together. And this would be such a freaky sort of tour. In fget, T wouldn't risk asking any one I know to start on such a trip.” “M-m-m!" says I, resting my chin on both hands and staring thought- ful into the fire. “It would be taking a big chance, wouldn't {t2" He agrees. and then for a while neither of us sald anything more. Finally he breaks out with: “Still, T ¢ld think of asking some one. Tcame very near doing it, too.” ‘s said 1. ancouraging. “[ lost my courage. “Too bad,” been the very He gave me a quick. eager glance. “Suppose it was you, Trilby May?” he asked. “Me?" savs 1. “Now that is odd. Biskra! And then to India and China and Japan! Tell me, Barry; vou weren't listening outside the door be- fore you came in. were you?" “What do you mean. Trilby May?" | savs he. “Why,” savs I, “I was telling Inez of a trip I wanted to take, if T had It—it began with Barry .was fairly gawping at me, his mouth open and his eyes round, and when he does that he looks more | boyish than ever. “Honestly?” he gasps. want to see thé desert®” ve just been telling Inez all about it says I. “And how I'd go from there to-India and China and—-" * % ox ¥ OMETIMES Barry is a bit siow at getting started, but once under way he's a speed artist. I don't know why he should think he could do it, elther. I can’t think' what encourage- ment I could have given him that he should feel he could get away with anything like that. But the next thing I knew he had pulled me to his end of the davenport and—well, if any movie director had been there I expect he could have shot about thres hundred feet of fond fade-away stuff that would have had ‘em chuckling in ‘the back seats. g g “Stop it, Barry!” I finally managed to gasp. “This is no endurancé rec- ord we're out for, you know.” “I don't care,” says he. “I've got you, Trilby May, and I'b not going to let go until you've sald you would.” “Would what, silly boy?” I asked. “Marry me tomorrow and start for Biskra,” says he. “How absurd!” says I tainly not.” “Wha-a-at!” says Barry, with al. most tears in his voice. “Not before next Wednesday, any- way,” says L " We were still there before the burned-out log fire an hour or so later, but I managed to edge at least three inches away from Farry as I heard Inez.corging up the stairs. She was a bit excited, as usual, and didn’t ‘seem to notice us. “Well, Inez,” says I, “how was the movie play?” “Oh, just swell,” says she. “There ‘was a girl In love with a young fel- yer, and was stuck on her, but neither of 'em knew about it for a long ttme. Then something happened that lét him find.out, and after that there was lotta lovin’. You shoulda seen when they clinched!” T know,” says I “I'm always miss- ing something. Eh, Barry?” “If you dfd tonight,” says he, “it ‘was my fault. But Il try to make up—in Biskra.” 4 OpITIEAL, 1028,y Semall Jasdd “You—you “Most cer- “Did | 1t “Might have | FADEAWAY|Member of Congress Describes Method made a success of his own business to Of Winning Seat_With Salesmanship Aid ONSCIOUSLY or subconsciously we are all salesmen. We seel &goods, service, and sometimes ‘we sell personality, but no mat- ter what we do in this lite, we are sales- men of one sort or another. In this day and generation we hear much of efficien- 5. We have efficiency engineers, efficien- cy experts, the sort of persons that come into your place of business and praceed to tell you what 18 the matter with your concern; but after all, every one of these men or women is simply a salesman who has coated the pill of curativé properties with a new name. All of us have, at one time or another, sold something to some one eise. W' have bartered with our fellow men, sometimes with success, sometimes with results that demonstrated that we are not what they cail born wlesmen, but the fact remains that we have all been salesmen. Few of us have, however, set out to sell ourselves, coupled with an idea, to a great mass of people. That is, few of us have done it knowingly and with the deliberate intent to make the people belleve that one is the right Derson to represent them in the national lawmaking hody they call the House of Representatives. There is one man, | however. who occuples a seat'in that | body and owes his election to a determi- nation to sell himself to, the people « his distriet. How efficient a salesman he was, and is, is best shown by the fact that he received the largest majority ever given & representative in that district, and | this feature, coupled with the fuct that | he Wwas running as u republican last | fall, makes his victory all the more im- | portant from u. salesmanship stand- | point. Added to this performance is the | remarkable record of carrying all but elght precincts in his district, despite he fact that his opponent was a man of high standing in the community. To | be accurate, he tled his opponent in one precinct. lost one by one vote, and the others which went to his demacratic | adversary were lost by five to ten votes. | It was rather a clean sweep for a man | who had never before appeared before | the public except as a business man. | * * COUPLE of years ago. James H. | MacLafferty seated in the Cafe | Venus, in Oakland. when he happened to notice that the occupant of the con- | gressional seat now held by MacLafferty | was not going 10 run again. Turning to his wife he remarked that he was going 1o Congress from that particplar dis- | trict. His better half, who for vears had ad- mired his success as a salesman, looked t him a moment and then laughingly | [replied that he had better “try for the | | presidency. | Notiing. ddunted, James H. said: “Well. you think I am joking. We will sce! And what is more. [ am going to | start my campaign by selling myself to | the people of this district just as soon | as you have finished your coffee.” | Friend wife, thinking it was one of his jokes, did not hurry with her demitasse, but when she had drained | {lhe tiny cup and the check had been | pald friend husband proceeded to put { his campaign on by calling a friend, | who was dining at the same place, over to his table and springing on {him the same {dea that he had given | to his wife only a few minutes be- | fore. | The friend, as most friends do, | omised that he would do all he| could and tried to turn the conversa- | tion into other channels, but James | {H. was not satisfied. IHe tied his friend down with a solemn pledge | |and, whipping out a note book or | order book, put him down as “num- | jber one” on the campaign committee. That night he gathercd in seven- | teen converts to his cause. The n { day. being Sunday, he did not do any | active work, but on Monday night he | appeared before the International As- Isociationof Specialty Salesmen, which | {was in session in Oakland at that time, und made a talk on salesman- | i ship that the members said was one | j of the best they had ever heard. As | his climax he formally announced his { candidacy for Congress and proceeded {to give his reasons why a business | iman should be selected to sit at shington. {or The next day the papers told of his | speech. but paid littie attention to the | |new Richmond in the fleld. ‘They i thought it was a clever way to bring | jout the strong points he had made {in his talk before the association. i ® ok ox % { L nis really active campaign by call- {ing on the business men of the dis- jtrict. The majority of them, think- ing it was a new and clever dodge of “Mac's” to put over something that ! e had to sell, laughingly replied that they were for him, and each and every one was surprised to see the | ! prospective candidate whip out an order book and put down the name as a member of his campaign commit- itee. When some of them demurred to serving, he pointed out that busi- | ness men were needed in Congrss and | that they had better send some one | there who would look after their in- trests, just as a salesman did on the roady Converts did not rally to his banner by the dozen the first day or the sec- ond, or the third. In fact, it was some time before he could get what he considered was a real good “or- der,” but when he did he went after the lukewarm ones, and, showing them that he had been able to con- vince some of. their brethren, he man- aged to enlist a considerable number under his banner. By this time the politicians had begun to realize that here was a new thing on them. They had never be- fore been up against just this kind of a proposition and it had them on the ropes and gasping for breath. Like most of the old-time politicians, they did not see how he could win and they tried to laugh him out of the race and to make up the customary slate, but the first thing they knew they were hearing from all quarters 2bout the campaign that “Mac” was making. Then the old-timers got busy, but too late, and they had to hunt around and get a regular candi- date to go against the hustling sales- man in the primary. Then another candidate entered the race, so it was a nice stiff fight, but the heretofore ! politically unknown salesman won by a very comfortable majority. R ST what constituted the compell- ing factors in his fight is best told in his own words, which are: “On the evening of September 3, 1921, I saw a small item in one of our papers that the late Representa- tive Flston was not going to be a candidate. Then and there I deter- mined that 1 would enter the race, as I figured that Congress needed more men of sound business training. There were more lawyers than I felt were necessary and too' few real busi- Not that lawyers do not ! maybe you think that it was easy, { HE following day he commenced | number of years ago. for me to come | offer | there is any Political Plans of Old- in Churches and at Prize Fights and Won Support—DBelieves Bu Legislato try needs men that are practical busi- ness men; for, after all, the affairs of this country are the same as those of a big firm or corporation. We have business men in other official bodies: then why not in Congress? “When 1 bi the subject to the head of the family-she thought I was joking, but after I demonstrated that it was not impossible she was ‘sold’ to the idea and became as en- thusiastic as I was. . “Don’t think for a minute that T di not know what [ was up against, for 1 did: but I figured that if I had been a success as a salesman for these many vears T could deliver the goods that T had to sell just as well as I @id when I was on the road, for that experience of selling things certainly gives you a great education as far as the public is concerned, and when a man has crossid this country sixty- eight times and been up and do; the western coast over one as I have, gets h hache Besides, it shows him what the peopls really want. The old-time political boss could not get the present-day view of the people. The old backroom stuff is gone. The public wants to know who vou are, what vou have done and what you propose to do. and you have to thinking. to deliver the goods if you want to | continue in their favor. “Speaking about salesmanship, a east and sell western lumber, to sell red cedar shingles against all sorts of opposition, but T did it because I was honest in my talks. And it is the same way in politi to believe in what vou are selling to the public and then You have to make them realize that what you have to is the very thing that they need—salesmanship. “Why, the greatest feat of the kind was during the war, when hundreds of us. all over the land, made four- minute talks. We sold billions to the people and made a world record—one that I earnestly hope will never again be equalled, for wars are horrible. “To return campaign meeting of specialty salesmen 1 found to the subject of my that T had struck a responsive chord | and that they agreed with me that the proportiton of business men in Congress was too small. You know that in that body there are 332 law- yers and only forty-eight business men—rather too small a representa- tion. o GYMINDING that my views on the| subject met with their approval, 1 was greatly heartened, because if class of men that are thorough in making decisions and studles of conditions specialty sales- men are the ones. “1 was not satisfied to have a man simply say that he was for me. I want- ed him to be for me, first, last and all the time, because it was best fbr his in- terests that I be selected to be the can- didate for Congress, and after getting the nomination I wanted him to be an active, not a passive supporter. So I asked them to be members of my cam- paign committee and to get out and ‘sell' me to the rest of the voters. I did not want merely ‘Yes, I am with you, old man’ supporters. 1 wanted fellot salesmen, to hélp me sell the idea to the rest of the voters. “When you get a lot of good citizens plugging for you it gives you a greater desire, if possible, to make good. You simply have to make good for- their sakes. T quickly realized that I, an un- known factor, had to get out and let the people see just what sort of a citizen I was and what I stood for. I spoke, on an average, ten times a week before the campaign really opened. 1 gave ad- dresses in churches, at base ball parks, at prize fights, at civic bodies, before all kinds and sorts of organizations, and I let the people know just what 1 stood hundred. | it sharpens his wits and | You have | After T had addressed the | Time Leaders—Spoke siness Men Needed as Copright by Underwood & Underwood. sidestep, for I have always been of the opinion that if a man is selling goods and cannot amswer a question it is better to tell the prospective customer the truth. It pays in the long run and {means that one gets a reputation of eing on the square. for the thing that people hate most is to be fooled. “I must confess that I did not know very much about politics—that is, the old-fashioned kind, but 1 made up my nind that 1 was going stzaight to the peo- ple and sell myself and my ideas to them, and ‘that if they wanted a man who had Curious Filaments. FHERE is a sort of electric lamp invented by Musel which is r | markable not only, for its excellence |in practical use, but also for the novel manner in which the filaments are made. Alloys of Chromium, manga- nese, molybdenum, uranium. thorium, | zirconium, platium. osmium andiridium ‘are first disassociated in water by the eledtric spark, and being precipitated in infinitesimal particles, they form a colloidal mass, which, because of its | plasticity, can be molded like wet clay. After drying., the filaments thus molded become sufficiently hard and resistant to bear all the manipu- lations needed for their introduction linto electric lamps., As soen as they have been heated to redness by the Dassage of a current they return lto the metallic state, and thus form | filaments of pure metal, perfectiy ho- , mogeneous throughout, and of uni- |torm caliver i Strange Farms. | PASSING thrgush that portion of ! California known as the “Salton” | one sees stretched out below him long |rows of what appear to be havcocks of a curious design tute a part, of what is called the i reality great comes of salt. Upon investigation one will find that the basin of 1#nd into which he is gazing i8 between 200 and 300 feet below the levél of the sea and that something Jike a thousand acres of this land are coversd with & vast deposit of satt. 7 Each yvear there are removed more than 2.000 tons of salt. The salt is first plowed into ridges. then piled into conical heaps, eventually going to the drying house. From this it proceeds to the crushing mill. It is an easy matter to mistake this area for a fleld of snow, because it is slmost pure white, if 8ne did not know that snow does not fall in that quarter. The supply of salt is being constantly renewed by deposits from the waters of salt springs flowing into this basin. JTo remove the salt the services of Indian workmen are utilized, since these are the only men who can with- stand the terrific heat and the glare of the June sum, for it is in that month that the work is done. The temperature often reaches 150 de- grees. Another very curious farm is. that situated in Torres straits, at the most northern point of Australia. It is known as & “pear! farm” and covers about 3,000 square miles. As a matter of fact, this farm is a plateau cover- ed with shallow water, and there are found more than 250 persons irregu- larly employed In gathering oysters. from which pearls are taken. These pearls are sold in London for almost & quarter of a million dollars. -Thec #2o--@--number-of. goldlsh I | 'henresent them 1. These consti- | “galt farm,” and the haycocks are in | in Congress I would work just as hard for them down here i\ Washington as I had for myself on the road. “Y pointed out that T had made money for ruyself and that 1 was in a position whera T did not have to be worrying |'about how to get along on my salary, |and that I would be on the job for them all the tyme that I was there, as their salesman, for that I am and nothing more. It 1% my duty to sell to the other members ol the House the ideas tha: we have, and as all of them are ideas that are for the betterment of the en- tire nation I do mot feel that in the | next Congress 1 should have much trouble “Take, for instence, the navy yard that we want built at Alameda. It is an ideal spot. The city has offered to glve— lana without any striugs to the offer may add—a vast section of land. T naval officials are for it. It is the sensi- ble, logical thing to do and one that wi! benefit all the people. ¥ x G HERE are a lot of mcasures that at first glance appear to be loca in character, yet it one will take the trouble to study or analyze them lie will find that they are really for the | good of the entire country, for the bene fits that come to one sectlon are radiat - ed, as a rule, to the rest of the natlon. “To return for the moment to my | campaign, it is really not so remark- wble when you come to study it, for it was practical salesmanship, as most | things in life are. Of course, it was | unusual and that is the thing that attracts attention. Can you imagine a salesman going into the store of ¢ man he wants to buy his goods and never opening his mouth to tell the other man what a line of goods he is |handling? Lots of our folks out home {were startled when they found t |1 was speaking at prizo fights, while some others told me that I might lose | some of the other votes if T spoke i | ehurches, but my answer was that al |the people, not any part. section or class, had a right to know for what |T stood and what T intended to ac- | complish. if T possibly could, if I were chosen as their representative. “The result was that I became ac- quainted with people in all walks of |life and T made many friends. T wanr 10 say that from all of them I learned | something, and the letters I received jare a great help to me. 1e work of the committees to | which T have been assigned offers a ;uhancc to do something of a construc- {tive nature. For instance, there are | the committees on insular affairs and | mines and mining. In both of these |appear many questions that are of in- | terest not only 1o folks of our district but also to all the people of #he nation.” The salesman-congressman ran for both terms in Congress. For the un |expired term he received a majority jof 28,000, while for the term beg ning March 4, 1925, his vote in excess of his opponent was 38,000, Asked as to whether or not he ha further political ambitions, such being in the Senate same day. or Le ing governor of the great state California, he said, “I want to be th best congressman that we have ever {had. T would much rather be a co: tinuing member with a power i good than to be in the Senate.” It may be remarked, in passing, {according to advices from Californic. . {the old-time politicians now sit u and take notice whenever I of a good salesman who is turning lattention to politics. Odd Facts Worth Knowing 4 farms scattered over the globe, bu probably the best known are ti | golafish nurserles of Japan, whe: {the fancy breeds are raised. How | ever. some of the largest goldfish ¢ |be found anywhere are bred in v |diana. Extreme care must be exe |cised in the breeding of these fist | First come the breeding ponds, whi |are considered the most importar {teature of the farm. Thesc are pro-, {tected from the wind and cold by high embankments. This is all ti. | care required, as far as the weath« |is concerned, for, even in winter, th~ fish are far more hardy than orc | would suppose. The chiet difficulty |arises in overhandling the creatures | The young goldfish are of a whitis; silvery color, and are not much di€, ferent in appearance from the orde |nary minnow. Not until a year hat | elapsed do they begin to grow dark In this change they become almos: black, after which their color as- |sumes & reddish-brown tone, and | finally takes on the beautiful gold of the mature fish. | Feeding the fish is a very simple imatter, because all of them are given | the same kind of food, toasted bread. | distributed two or three times a week.q | Nothing else is necessary except to see that the water 15 kept fresh ‘Wonderland Outdone. VERYBODY knows of the mock turtle and his profuse tears de- scribed in Lewis Carroll's famous book. There is one person who claims to have seen a number of them. A young attache of the Mexican lega- tion several vears ago was being shown the sights of Washington by an American friend. Dropping into a restaurant for lunch, their fitat disi proved to be mock turtle soup. That led the Mexican into an anl- mated account of a trip across the Caribbean sea, in the course of which he said, they passed a bare rock “gimply covered with mock turtles.™ “Excuse me,” sald the American, smiling, “you don't mean mock tur- tles, but just turtles”” “Indeed I mean what I say,” the other repedt- ed, with warmth. “I mean mdek turtles-—the genuine mock turtles.”. . Power From Peanut Oil.’ IT seems that one of the advantages of the Diesel oil engine lies in its ability to produce power by burning not only the cheapest grades of natural mineral ofls and the by-prod- ucts of coal distillation and coke plants, tar and creosote oils, but also vegetable and animal ofls. Indeed, it is sald it can use peanut oil almost as effectively as mineral oil. The use of fat olls from vegetable sources for fuel will, it is predicted. promote industrial development in regions where the cost of coal s pro- 1 | hibitive—in northern Africa, for in- stance, and in many parts of our | own country. It {s declared that those oils make it certain that mo-g tive power can still be produced from the heat of the sun, even when all our natural sources of solld and iquid fusels erg exhausted.