Evening Star Newspaper, July 19, 1925, Page 64

THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C, JULY 19, 1925—PART 5. Real Cowboy Writes About Wild Riding On Western Cattle Range Dealing With Horse Flesh, Which is a “Head-Fighting, Limber-Back Cross Between Greased Lightning and Where It Hits.” FOREWORD, ‘What I've wrote here is without the help of the dictionary or any course in story writing. I dldn’t want to dilude what I had to say with a lot of imported words that I couldn’t of hapdled. Good English is all right, but when I want to say something I believe in hitting straight to the point without fishs ing for decorated language. I was born and raised in the cow country, I am a cowboy, and what's put down in these three articles is Dot material that I've hunted up; it's what I've lived, seen and went through before I ever had any idea that my writing and sketches would ever appear beforg the pub- lic.—The Author. BY WILL JAMES. N most countries a mean horse is got rid of or broke of his mean- ness by either kind or rough handling. He may be given away by some enemy or shipped and sold at auction. That ornery devil, dragging all the bad names after him, will keep on drifting and changing of scenery till he's too old to be shipped or traded any more. He's a mighty expensive animal, figuring all the buggles he kicked to pieces, the harnesses he tore up and the stalls he broke down, not counting injury to them what tried to handle him.~ But there's a place for such horses. It’s anywheres west of the Laramie WILL JAMES, COWBOY ARTIST AND WRITER, WHO HAS CAP- TURED THE WILD MUSTANG ON PAPER AS WELL AS HE EVER DID IN THE FLESH. Plains. If vou've got a real ornery, man-eating, bucking, striking, can’t- be-rode animal of that kind. he's sure | worth a lot, and if he’s worse than | thet he's worth more. Fact is, there for them kind zive frome « They're t ble = out looking | nies, and they’ll | ired on up for ‘em. | mbres who's responsi “frontier d: celebra- i . eos,” “war bonnets,” ‘re- n round-ups,” and they T v nean horses, the meaner tter. They must have horses that'li give the boys what's rode in | for the events a chance to show what they can do, 'cause if the rider “up” gets a brone that just crowhops, it don't matter how easy he rides, or how much he fans him and how loud the crowd in the grandstand cheers and hollers, the judges of who's the best | rider won't notice him, being he has ! nothing hard to stick. That's where a good. bucking horse is wanted have enough wickedness that cowboy to work mighty good ride prize money on they drew, jus wasn't mean e a-setting u hard, mean, He's got to m for seen left out of the ount of the horse | because that pon: gh: and that old boy | there wi taped spurs and fighting mad, blodd in his eve, | and a-wishing something would blow up under his bronc so he could show | the world nd the judges what a| wolverene he is on horse flesh Nobody gets credit for riding easy in a rocking chair. What the cowboy wants is a head-fighting, limber-back cross between greased lightning and where it hit horse that'll call for all the endurance, main strength and equilibrium that cowboy's got, just so he can show his ability and scratch both ways from the cinch, as the judges may direct. There's when a mean devil of a horse is wanted. He gets a chance to show how mean he is with free rein, an the cowboy has something worth while to work at, | I've known some great horses in that game. re was Long Tom, Hammerhead, Old Steamboat—that last wr a great old pony, 1,100 pounds of solid steel and on and a square shooter. They he never was rode, but 1 know he n rode to a standstill. The riders® that did it, tho I figgered that horse was part hu- man the way he'd feel out his rider. He'd sometimes try him out on a few casy jumps just to see how he was setting, and when he'd loosen up for the last it's safe enough to say, when that Tast would come and the dust cleared, there'd 'most always be a tall, lean, lanky, bow-legged cowboy pick- in himself up and wondering how many horses he'd seen in the last few onds. I've seen Old Steamboat throw his man with his head up and four feet on the ground, but what happened before he got in that peace- ful position was enough to jar a centi- | pede and a human’s only got two legs loose. * ik is not trained to buck, as | some folks think. Out there on | pen range he already knows how. etimes the bronco-buster encour- him at it for either fun or prac- ice for the next rodeo, and the bronc \ rule, is more than willing and | might keep on bucking every time he’s | rode, whether the rider wants him to | or not. Close as I could figure it out, the blame for originating the buck- ing, striking and biting in the West- ern horse goes a h p to the moun- tain lion and wolf—them two terrors of the range, mixed with instinct and <hook up well with wild, free blood, | kinda allows for the range horse’s ac- | tions. Them old ponies had a lot to deal with. The mountain lion was always | a-waiting for 'em from his perch, | where he could easy spring down on his victim. He'd fall on their necks, | b holt with front claws and teeth | a foot or so from the ears, then swing his hind quarters down with all his strength and clamp his claws under | the horse's jaw close to the chin, jerk the pony’'s head up, and, if the cou-| gar's aim was good, he'd break the mustarg’s neck most as quick as he 1t HORS I wouldn't give “two bits” for a| bronc what_didn’t buck when first rode. e 1 figgers it's their mettle showing when they do. It's the right spirit at the right time. Every horse what bucks is not a outlaw, not by a | Jong shot. I've seen and rode many a Zood old well broke cow horse what had to have his buck out in the cold mornings, just to kind of warm hisself up on the subject and settle down for the work ahead. | The outlaw (2s some call him) he's | the horse that won't quit bucking and | fig A wvery time he's saddled. made one by too rough or not rough enough handling, and spoiled either by the bronc peeler what started to break him or else turned loose on the range before he's thoroughly broke, to run for months before he’s caught up again. There's a difference in horses’ na- ture and very few can be handled alike. Some_are kinda nervous and full of life. Them kind's got to be handled_careful and easy, or they'd get to be mean fighters as a rule. Then there’s what we call the “‘jug- head.” He's got to be pulled around @ heap, and it takes a lot of elbow grease to get him lined out for any- thing. And there's another that as soon as & feller gets his rope on him makes him feel that either him or the bronc ain't got far to go. He's the kind of horse with a far-away look— some folks call 'em locoed. But whether he's that or not, he'll sure take a man through some awful places, and sometimes only one comes out. Such doings would make a steeplechase as exciting as a fat man's race. That horse is out to get his man and he don't care if he goes himself while doing the getting. He's out to commit suicide and make a killing at the same time. I pulled the saddle. off such a horse one time after a good stiff ride. Of a sudden he flew past and kicked at me with his two free legs, snapping and biting at the “jakama’ (hackamore rope), heading straight for the side of the carra), when he coffnected with it and fell back dead with a broken neck. I felt kinda relieved, ‘cause I knew it was either him or e or both of us had to go. He'd tried it before. * K Kk A\'D then there’s a horse what keeps | his brain a-working for some way to hang his rider's hide on the corral or anywhere it'll hang, and save his own hide doing it. He's erooked any way you take him, and will put so much energy in his bucking that when he's up in the air all twisted up he don’t figure or care about the coming down. He'll make his cowboy shake hands with St. Peter, and won't worry whether the ground is under or om the side of him when he hits. When he falls, he falls hard, and the rider has little chance to get away. That pony seldom gets hurt. He's wise enough to look out for himself. What's on top of him is what he wants to get rid of, and he won't be on the square try- ing it. Out of every 100 buckers of the arena there’s only about 15 that are square and will give a man a fair battle. Old Steamboat was that kind He was gentle to saddle and handle, but when he felt the rider's weight and | the blind was pulled off it was second | nature and fun for him to buck, and | he knew as well as the boys did that | o | he could buck. Horses have a heap more brains than some folks would like to give ‘em credit for, and if they want to be mean they know how. The same if | they want to be good. The kind of | interduction they get with man has a lot to do with it. In all the cowboys I've met and| buckers I've handled and seen on the open ranges or arenas of the United States, Canada and Mexico, I've still Zot to see the rider what couldn't be throwed and the horse what couldn’t be_rode. : There's horses, though, that has to| be rough handled—born fighters | what'll do just the opposite of whs they should do to be good. The: want to be ornery, and them kind calls | only for the real rough bronco fighter what'll fight 'em to a finish. \ followed up according without a kink nowheres. In bucking or running he'd make you wonder if he was horse flesh or dynamite. Just an ordinary horse to look at, though—chunky, short back and short ankles, but with a deep chest and a head that promised a lot either way he went. * \ That day I run him in, throwed him and slipped the hackamore on his head, a name for him came to me just as natural as though I'd been think- ing of one for hours, “Brown Jug." and that sure fit him all the y through, even to the color; also, like | the jug, he had plenty of “kick” in him. From the first saddling he didn't disappoint me none, for he went after me and sure made me ride. In order to stay I had to postpone fanning him for a spell, and thought I was doing real well to be able to do that much It was just my luck that none of the boys was around to see me put up ich a ride on such a horse. I told ’em about it, but to the wa me that was mighty tame compared to how it really was, and the next day when some of them boys happened around just as I was climbing Brown Jug again the little son of a gun just crowhopped around and acted like he loved me and my rigging 'most to death. He bucked at every setting each day after that for about 10 days. Then one day as I was going through the corral gate to give him his daily “airing” he “went to pieces’ there at the gate, and where it was slick with ice he fell hard and flat on his side and smashed one of my stirrups. Naturally, the first thing came to my mind was to hold him down for a spell and see if I was caught any- wheres in the rfiggings. 1 wasn't. Then I thinks that now would be a Them’s the kind of horses what makes up a “rough string.” Every cow outfit has 'em. Them horses’ll range in age from b-year-old colts vhat craves fighting on up to 15 and 20 year old outlaws. They 'most al- ways keep one man in‘the hospital steady, and when he comes out the other man is about due to take his place either with the nurses or the ‘angels. * ok %k NE little horse 1 been trying to write about weighed around 1,100 Zood time to teach his kind of a horse “AFTER HE PUT A COUPLE OF ¢ it struck | right | the forced rest and be able to stand on his pins again. But he was sure took down a peg, and when 1 loped him out sudden he seemed to've forgot |that was the time he liked to buck hest. | T * ok ok ok {ERE was 12 brones in my string. Each was getting short rides on “inside circle,” " or at the cutting | grounds. Their teaching came right along with the cattle, and the average |of them colts was coming fine, but | Brown Jug was ahead of ‘em all, and | naturally T helped him all the more. He'd bucked only once since I tied | him down, and that second time he didn’t get ‘to buck like he wanted to |then. He'd only made a half a dozen | jumps when I reached down on one | rein. pulled his head up and jerked | his feet out from under him, layving | him down again just when he wanted | to be in action the most. | That fixed him for good, and T fig- | gered if he'd ever buck again it'd be | when he got cold and wanted to warm up, or pvhen somebody’d tickle him with tfe spur at the wrong time. Well, if he did it'd only show he had makes the cowhorse. It was a couple of weeks since Brown Jug'd bucked last. It was out of his system by now, and I was be. ginning to take a lot of interest in the ways of handling the critter. I kept him in my string long as I could. Then one day the foreman, who'd been watching with an eagle eve the work of every colt 1'd been breaking, fig- gered the “raw edge” was pretty well took off them broncs and fit to be divided up among the boys for easy work. The next morning I'm ready toleave the wagon behind, also the ponies I'd broke, and hit back for the home ranch on a gentle horse, where I'm to round up another string of raw brones and start in breaking fresh. But be- BOYS IN THE HOSPITAL AND CAME NEAR GETTING ME, HE WAS PUT IN THE ‘ROUGH STRING.”” sy how bucking wasn't at all nice. So I proceeds to tie him down. That don’t hurt a horse, only his feelings, spe- cially so when interrupted that way in the middle of the performance. I'd whipped him some while bucking a few days before, and I found out before I was through that his kind had to be handled different, ‘'cause he bucked and showed fight all the way through and never let up till he was tired out; then he went to sulking. After that I watched my chance for some other way to break him out of it. My chance came when he fell and I didn't let it slip by. 1 gave him a pounds, and all in one hunk. What [ mean is each part of him knowed what Lir matese, and sometimes he's the other part was going to do and good half-hour to think it over, and when T let him up, me a-setting in the saddle, he was glad to get away from fore leaving I manages to get the foreman to one side. ow, Tom,” I says, “there's one special little horse in them broncs I'm turning over what has the makings of a ‘top horse,” and I'd sure like to see a real good man get him—a man | that’ll make him what he promises to be. I know Flint Andrews would sure like to have him, and I'm asking as a favor if you'd see that Flint gets Brown Jug.” “You surprise me, Bill" he says, squinting over Brown Jug's way, then back me. “Why, I thought all horses wag alike to you, no matter how good or bad they be, hut T guess I thought wrong, and if you'd lke to feelings and the kind of spirit that: see Flint get the brown horse don't worry about it—he'll get him.” I'm at the ranch near three weeks and coming along pretty fair with the new bunch, when the wagons begin pulling in. Brown Jug came in with one of the remudas and was looking fine. Flint couldn't get to me quick enough to tell me what a great little horse he was and how near he could come to being human. “Never kettled (bucked) once,” he says, “and I never saw a horse getting s0 much fun out of beating a critter at her own game as he does. He sure camps on their hocks from start to finish.” / * % ¥ * FEW days later I had a chance to watch him at work. Flint was a-talking away to him, and that little son of a gun of a horse seemed to un- derstand everything he said and talk right back with them ears and eyes of his. I wad getting jealous of what Flint could do with Brown Jug, and it set me down a peg to see that he sure had me beat in teaching him some thing. n to starting a colt and taking the rough oft him, but after that I sure had to take a back seat from Flint. Two outfits was to start out soon for other directions and on other ranges. I went along with the first The broncs I'd just started a few weeks before was in the remuda and on the trall of eddication to the ways of the critter, the same as the bunch I'd took along early that Spring. In this new string of broncs I was putting through the ropes there was another special little horse what prom- ised to come up along with Brown Jug as a cowhorse. But I was kinda worried. He was too good, never bucked once and seemed to try too hard to learn. His kind of a horse was hard for me to make out, ‘causs they was few. I always felt they was waliting for a chance to get you, and get you good whenever that chance | showed up. 1 figgered a horse with a good work- ing set of brains like he had ought to've done something, but all he did do was to watch me llke a hawk in| every move I'd make. And he was so quiet when I was around that I naturally felt kind of nervous, think ing he might explode and tear up the scenery 'most any minute. But he stayed good and kept a-learn- ing fast, and even though I figgered he-might be one example of a horse in a thousand, T was still dublous when I turned him and a few others of my broncs over to the boys. 1 wished he'd bucked once, anyway. T kept my eve on him, and every time it was his turn to be rode I w: always surprised to see how docile he was. him made an awful fuss over “Sun- down,” as he'd called him (he was too much of a puzzle for me to name), and the two was getting along better than I ever expected. With Brown Jug, he was showing a little orneriness now and again, but that was to be expected, and Flint could ‘most always talk him out of it I was all right when it come | The new hand what was riding | getting o he could turn a “bunch- quitting” critter so fast she’d think she was born that way. * K ok K FTER his first Summer of eddica- tion with the cow, he showed strong where in a couple more years he’'d be a top cowhorse—the kind what's talked about around the cow camps from the Rio Grande to the Yellowstone. Flint was always raving about him, and I'd always chip in with “Well, look who started him!” Sundown was coming up right along with Brown Jug, and the new hand what was riding him sure used to get CoTomes s “I'VE STILL GOT TO SEE TH THROWED AND THE HORSE THAT COULDN'T BE RODE.” and when he seen Brown Jug acting snorty he mentioned it again, and a little stronger this time. Finally I took the hint and told him I'd top him off for him if he wanted me to. ure,” he says. “I don’t mind.” ‘Well, sir, that little horse gave me a shaking up the likes I never had be- fore or since, and when he finally qui and I got off I was beginning to feel old and stiff myself. But I rode him again that afternoon, and took it out of him easy enough. The next day he was all right and Flint rode him away. In another corral something was more than raising the dust, and soon E RIDER WHAT COULDNT BE into some sizzling arguments with argument kept neck to neck, same as |it did with the horses. The Spring horse round-up brought in near 1,000 head of saddle stock, and |in one of the corrals with other horses | I got first glimpse of Brown Jug and Sundown. They'd been pals all Win- | ter and where one went the other fol lowed. If one got into a scrap the a dandy pair. Flint'd been complaining of getting Flint over them two ponies, but the as T see what causes it T don't lose no time to climb the poles and get there Sundown had ‘“broke in two” at last. The new hand was having it out with higa, but he had no chance. Somehow | he stayed on, though, and when the | horse quit he fell off like a rag. | T takes a turn at that horse, and {tired as he is he sure makes it inter- | esting and T don't find no time to use | the quirt. He finally quits again, and other helped him, and they sure made | I was mighty glad of it. He's stand- | |ing with legs wide apart, fire in his |eves, and pufing away like a steam He done the work, though, and was old and stiff for a week or so past,|engine, and when I tries to move him %) out of his tracks all I get is a couple more hard, stiff jolts. He's mad clear through, and I know there’s no us: trying to make him do anything just then. e ‘ROM then on he was just as bad this Spring as he was good the Spring before All that could be got of him was buck, fight, sulk and stan- pede. He was no more interested in anything else, and after he put a couple of boys in the hospital and come near getting me, he was put in the | “rough string.” I wasn’t surprised to see him turn out that way. If anything, I kind of expected it. For even though I've seen a few what never bucked on first setting and stayed good all the time, T always figgered there was somethi wrong with 'em and could never trust ’em till 1 knowed for sure. A couple of years later when I rode back into that country the Spring round-up was in full swing and a herd | was being “worked” a little ways from | camp. I rides over, and there was Flint and | Brown Jug working together and do ing the prettiest job of cutting out I |ever saw. “A long-legged and long | horned staggy-looking critter was b |ing edged to the outside of the herd {and I could see the critter had no tentions of being put out of that herd, none at all. Pretty soon an opening shows up, and Brown Jug come pretty near see ing it quicker than Flint. An: that critter was stepped on from ther: | and put out before she knowed it. She tries to turn back, but the little horse was right on hand at each side ste; when of a sudden Brown Jug stum bles. His foot had gone down a ba |ger hole and he come near turni over. Flint quits him and when th little horse straightens up the bridle {is off his head. All was done quicke:r than you could think and the critte hadn't had time to get back to the herd. Then Brown Jug sees ’‘er, anc | transformed into a lightning streak | he lands on ‘er. The fur is fiying off that critter's rump and that little horse, without man or bridle, keeps on | as though nothing happened and er’ out of the herd and heads 'er fc the cut. = Nobody says anything for a s but the expressions means a lot. The: the foreman, who'd seen it all, kinda grins and says: “If T had a few more horses liko {that T wouldn't need no men.” And Flint and T was both might proud that we'd Melped make Brow Jug what he was—the top cowhorss of four remudas. (Copyright, 1925.) When the Pen Leaks. A FOUNTAIN pen is more apt leak when nearly empty bec the heat of the hand causes the within the pen to expand and f the ink out. When the pen is well filled with ink there is less air in t! pen and hence less pressure produced when the pen is warmed. French Legislators Shut Doors On Fighting Communist Group BY STERLING HEILIG. PARIS, July OMMUNISTS in France are the extreme Socialists who work even with Russian Bol- sheviks. Through their labor unions they have managed to elect between 25 and 30 members of Parliament, whereas there are about %0 of the more moderate Socialist members. 5 ° As a French government, to keep in | office, must have a majority in Parlia- ment. these 105 votes out of the total 584 members are enough, at times, to swing the policy of the French re- public—that is, the Communists can swell the Socialist vote, but taken by themselves, they can only make noise and become “an awful nuisance’ at_home and abroad. They are doing it. When Prime Minister Painleve returned from his sensational airplane trip to Morocco, the five principal Parliament commit- tees (forelgn affairs, army, finance, navy and colonies) assembied to hear him. But, first, he demanded the word of honor of all to keep secret what he would tell them—how things were golng in Morocco. Up jumps Communist Renaud-Jean and reads a formal refusal of all the Communist members to keep secret anything the prime minister might Deputy Franklin-Bouillon, presiding over the united meeting (a_great of- fice), begged the prime minister to withdraw a few minutes “until we can settle this matter among our- selves.” This done, and ascertaining that the Communist members were deter- mined to male trouble by refusing the promise, he formally invited them to withdraw. They refused, and sat tight. All the other committee mem- bers, of all parties, having promised to the last man, they rose at a ges- ture of Franklin-Bouillon and march- to a private hall reserved to commit- tee presidents—leaving the Com- munist members sitting alone. But not for long. The new meeting was scarcely seated, when the Communists came running to it. Franklin-Bouillon held ~the door against them. He is not big, but he is trgck set, and studied at Oxford, wherd athletics count. He filled the | door and repeated the word of Ver- Behind him formed a dun—*"They'll not pass!” the committee members solid barrage. “Forward, Marty, Communist shouted leader. comrades! " fighting | He was that officer implicated in a mutiny on a French ship in Russian ‘waters during the war and remained behind_with the Russian revolution- ists. Returning to France after the war, he was tried, condemned, sen- tenced, swept free in one of the politi- cal amnesties and elected to Parlia- ment as a_Communist. The Oxford man was ready for Marty, who is neither boxer nor wrestler. He grabbed Marty, used him as a club against oncoming Com- munists—and, bangT the door was closed! The Communist members tried to batter it down. The ushers (kind of sergeants-at-arms) arrived in force and backed the Communists away to the public halls. Franklin-Bouillon’s father, it should be known, was a political exile along with Vietor Hugo when Louis Napo- leon made himself emperor. Obliged to live abroad, he chose the Channel Islands, British possessions. This ac- counts for the strong English tinge of his three sons' _education—one named Socrates, one Voltaire and the other Benjamin Frankiin - Bouillon. All three are too much philosophers to put up with Communists or Bol- sheviks. Next day Renaud-Jean questioned the government in Parliament about “the exclusion of Communists at yes- terday’s joint committee meeting.” He is a dour, wiry, uncomfortable, dark man with a rasping voice. He had a right to five minutes, but, as take sides openly -with Abd-el-Krim and thelr army down there. “You think to stop us by calling us traitors,” crigd the Communist leader. “What we want is to hinder the mon- strous assassinations going on! Amid universal protests M. Herriot, | DEPUTY MARTY, THE FIGHT- ING LEADER OF THE COM- MUNIST MEMBERS OF PAR- LIAMENT IN PARIS. who is speaker of the House, called, “I protest for the majority of Parlia- usual on such occasions, he brought {with_him to the tribune matter for five hours' discussion. He is dour, wiry, uncomfortable, ment and for the country, to whom such talk is.an insult!"” The 25 Communist members groan ed together, “Down with the war! M. Herriet retorted, “If you are against war you should show more .pe:u‘eful manners. ‘When Prime Minister Painleve rose to reply the Communists called per- sonal insults. He answered pa- tiently : “I cannot be touched by provoca- tions of those who correspond with Abd-el-Krim and advise him—those who aim the blows that strike our soldiers.” The Communists went wild. The Socialists, who need their votes, were silent. The remaining 500 members of Parliament, both for and against the government, applauded as one man. Said Speaker Herriot to Renaud. Jean:, “Your five minutes are up. Said Renaud-Jean: “The prime minis- ter attacks me and I have the right to reply.” So he had his speech out, ex- ! tolling the Riff. Then Prime Minister Painleve, more patient than ever, said: “I am unwilling to bring out infor- mation about Morocco and our mili- tary operations in presence of men prepared to pass it on at once to those who are shooting down our soldierg.” At which a serious Socialist said: “If the prime minister can prove that_in our country there are men capable of causing our soldiers to be killed, we must stand with the gov- ernment to combat them. Otherwise, ‘we shall vote in a doub! Said the prime minister: “I shall give such proofs that there will be no room for doubt!" . And while the Socialists abstained from voting, 426 votes' against 27 sent the Communists about their bus- iness. z While everybody in Paris was read- ing about these Communist back- port (street car and omnibus) labor union started a novel strike to get the party into the spotlight and annoy everybody. It is called the “slow-step” strike, and it is entirely Communist, for the other unions have not been observ- ing it. Chauffeur and conductor have to agree. They start a little late, make necessary stops a little long, neglect to gain time, make no cffort to re- move obstacles or obstructions and | wait patiently. to be the last when a “snarl” in trafic breaks up. And so_on. Everybody | gets late. Workmen of mornings are on ‘a ow-step” Shopgirls worry over possible loss of jobs. Employes fret. comparative leisure hate to be stepped.” On one car a passenger had an idea. Tt is spreading. When asked to pay his fare he slowly counted out | the change, hunting through vgrious | pockets for the sum. Other passengers amused themselves with variation! bills and fought and argued when the conductor refused to make change. Some were conversing earnestly when | asked to pay—to finally look up, with vacant int monsieur require?” ome had forgotten their purse and ceremoniou: in turn from each and every passenger. change « suspicion, Tow- he: finally refused with long-winded politeness. give “slow-stepping” dose of their own medicine! All to against ployes. impeding Communist senger pretends to think that som other asked, “Please, stop it for m One passenger said: “I will pa: when you get me to my place. I don't owe yet! relaved. As usual, they got return car to ride home; but its em- ployes were not always of the Com- DEPUTY 'FRANKLIN-BOUILLON, WHO THREW ONE OF THE COMMUNIST DEPUTIES OUT OF THE FRENCH PARLIA- MENT. munist union—and often disgusted by being impeded all dgy. “No, you don't!” Would say the new conductor. “Get into one of your own slow-steppers. This car is on time! “The “go slow” strike has lasted spasmodically, according to lines, for six days. It is wearing itself out by the displeasure of “‘good customers”— in Morocco against their own country | handers, a Communist common trans- ' for, in Parls, regular trippers “tip™ ~ car | | afraid of being fined at the factory. | Even people of | Some handed out big rdon, what does | begged a loan of 5 cents | fellow | Iy These, seeking vainly for | Abd-el-Krim is waging against the ating_ with pretended | the .loans | conductors a More and more passengers combine em- A favorite trick is to signal the car to stop—and, then, each pas- stopping The climax was reached when Com- munist conductors and wattmen were into a conductors, & serfous source of & con- ductor’s revenue in addition to salary In the “slow step,” the Communists have done themselves real harm. B the daily papers, the public learns that it s all suffering together—not chance passengers in & chince car. The mere congestion of street traffi by deliberate clogging of trams an omnibuses at critical points like the Place de I'Opera exasperates tha pub ic. As to trips, one day there were {2160 one-way trips fewer thar schedule, another day 3,147 fewer, and s0 on. Now, as the Company of Cor mon Transports has the city as half partner, the loss of about 150,000 francs per day by slow-stepping falls 58 per cent on taxpayers—argument that counts against the Communi: | more than many anothe While these things were exasperat ing Paris, interest in Communist trouble-making swung back to Par liament—where it continues. Deputy Dorfot, a little man who looks and talks like a primary school teacher, got possession of the tribune and read out a private letter writter by the Chef de Cabinet of Marshal Lyautey (French Governor in Moroc o) to the marshal's nephew in Paris. | . The letter had little importance i | itself: but it spoke discouragingly of e Spanish in Morocco being of any real help in the veritable war which | French It was a private letter, giving the | feelings of the writer only; and the | man to whom it was written never jreceived it. A Communist postman stole it—to aid in the French Com- munist campaign against the French The Spanish Ambassador called on | Briand, French Foreign Minister, who is never caught napping. So Briand forestalled him, saying: “You are going to speak about the letter. The French government knows its dut and has already taken necesss measure: Next day, among gov ernment announcements was that of the resignation of the Chef de Cat net of Marshal Lyautey—accepted Things could not end there. Af long opposition, France has allowe civil service men, like post office em- ployes, to form unions; and the Con munist Unlon is one that has give most trouble to the minister of posts telegraph and telephone. It began by placarding in service rooms: “War on war! Get out of Morocco!”, Which is easier said than done, and would cause the greatest possible wrong to the immense ma- Jority of natives of Morocco—who only want to go on farming, to big money returns, with a perfect horror of that wild raiding mountain chief, Abd-el-Krim. The “Workman of the Posts” pub lUished a violent article, and the organ of the Soviets in France published another. Thereupon, the minister of posts ordered a cessation of all rela tions of the postal services with the Communist Postal Union. More came to the prime minister He ordered searches to be made by the police, who found in Deputy Doriot’s possession all sorts of docu- ments concerning the movements of the French army in Morocco. Now, the Communists are squarely charged with being in communication with Abd-el-Krim. Deputy Marty, being Investigated is accused of the old charge agains him—tampering with _soldiers and setting them against their duty. Being a deputy, he has “immunity~ from arrest—unti? the chamber of deputies shall take it from him. It will be done. On top of all, comes the strong-arm invasion of the Chinese Minister’ Paris heuse by Chinese Communist And, everywhere, rumor tells of Bol- shevik propaganda and Soviet mone: with French Communists, with Abd- el-Krim and Communist Chinese{ It is not a revolution, but “an awful Pwsance.