Evening Star Newspaper, August 15, 1937, Page 87

Avgust 15, 1937 + Here's High intelligence favors a superior morality by IRA S. WILE, MD. S AN intelligent person more likely to have a high moral standard than a stupid one? Dr. Clara F. Lhasell, of Columbia University, says ‘‘Yes.” After a long study of “$hany types of people, she reported that college students who did well in scholastic work were usually superior morally to students with poor results. Intelligence, Dr. Chasell found, was an asset in developing unselfishness, loyalty, justice, the courage of one’s convictions, self-control, reliability and interest in social welfare. Lewis Terman, the well known psy- . For those who like a sense of substance win their fruit salads and a slight sweet- ness, this is an attractive and very pleasant salad. Moreover, it can be used satisfactorily as a last course. For desserts, Patsy likes many dishes, from bananas with cream to apple pie, ‘“‘plain’”’ lemon pie, ice cream, gelatins, and old-fashioned shortcake. With peaches in season now, we recommend the peach short- cake which we have illustrated. “l am mad about bread.” Patsy says, turning her thoughts to other iterss of food. I especially like hot biscuits and out on the Coast we have a southern cook who can make more .kinds of hot breads than I ever knew existed. And in the morning I like coffee cake and crumb cake, especially if they are homemade.”’ On Sundays, Patsy often entertains chologist who has made a special study of gifted children, found that they rated higher in moral traits than youngsters of average intelligence. Hartshorne and May, two other in- vestigators, noted that cheating, lying and stealing increased among children as their level of intelligence decreased. The same relationship between in- telligence and morality shows up in many crime surveys. Of 500 criminal youths studied by Sheldon Glueck, 44 per cent were mentally dull or feeble minded. You Can’t Beat the Irish Continved from preceding page and then she is apt to have roast chicken or roast turkey — or some- times roast beef. She is extremely fond of mashed potatoes, so fond that she says: ‘““Mash them; and if I were a man, I'd marry you any time.” But there are also sweet potatoes with marshmallows to be considered. They taste like a million dollars, according to Patsy. Sweet potatoes are what she always chooses with another favorite meal of roast pork with apple sauce. “‘Steak I like in any way,” she adds, “and I like string beans, either creamed or just with butter; mashed turnips; orange squash; and creamed spinach. And if you want to make me divinely happy, give me spareribs and cabbage,” she says, expressing her undisguised plea- sure in that simple and homey but justly popular dish. Star Witness Continved from page twelve “Jim,"”’ Chief Rodgers cut in, ‘“‘this case against Phil Parsons is so tight he’'ll never wiggle out, even with your help.”” The Chief was sarcastic now. “We've got him cold. He won’t tell where he was for an hour last night, Of course he won’t. That’s when he ‘killed his mother. Bashed her head in with an old lamp base. ‘““And here’s something else you on’t know — " There was a mixture of pity and sarcasm in the police chigf’s voice. “We have a witness — found him an hour ago — who saw Phil come out of his mother’s yard at 11:55. Phil admits it was around five after twelve when he got home. We drove from his mother’s place to his house. How long do you think it took us? Just ten minutes! The witness will be here any minute."’ Jim’s faith in his own deductions — and in Phil — wavered. Maybe the Chief was right. Maybe his eyes were bad. Maybe that finger-print was not the murderer’s. But no, by heaven! Hg was right! He had to be right . . . *Jim’s eyes lighted with a sudden thought. He asked: ‘‘Chief, do I know the witness?”’ “Don’t know as you do, Jim,” the Chief said. “'Fellow named Thomas — Alton Thomas. From Greenridge. Was out that way to see a girl. Story checks. Left her place at 11:45. That's how he fixes the time. Saw a man come out of the Parsons’ place and thought he was acting suspiciously. Trailed him iintil he saw it was Phil, then went on. Called up today when he heard about the murder.” e * “Itlooks bad, Phil,’’ Jim was saying between the bars. ‘‘Man says he saw you coming out of your mother’s yard en minutes before you got home." “It’s a lie,” Phil said. Then he hesi- tated. Could he tell Jim? No, he Mustn’t let anybody know about him and Erma. “*Know a fellow named Thomas — Alton Thomas?’’ Old Jim went on. ® “‘Man named Thomas worked on the farm for Dad — some years back. But I don’t know that his name was Alton."’ Jim thought for a second. Then asked, abruptly: ‘‘Hear about Erma being in town?’’ Jim’s eyes were glued on Phil and he thought he saw Phil stiffen, just a trifie. ‘“Why, yes,” Phil hesitated. ‘“That is, I did hear she was here, was leaving this morning.*’ A load lifted off Jim’s chest. He knew now where Phil had been during that hour. As a last resort he'd get in touch with Erma. Might break up two families, but a man’s life was at stake. Now for this fellow Thomas . . . Chief Rodgers was talking with a heavy-set man, face browned by the sun, when Jim sauntered back. “‘Looks like Phil’s the man, all right,”” the Chief said, as Jim entered. “‘Can’t be a mistake. Mr. Thomas here knows Phil. Worked for his dad on the farm a few years back. Identifies Phil positively as the man he saw coming out of the yard last night.’’ Old Jim looked Thomas over, one of those looks :hat take in a man from head to foot. ‘“‘How was Phil dressed last night?”’ Jim cracked the question. The star witness hesitated, then: ‘“Well, it was pretty dark. I couldn’t exactly see.” “But you could see that the man Animalgrams by GEORGE HOPF PiPE THIS WiNsOME TRIO, CUTTING QUITE A DASH, STICKING CLOSE TOGETHER, and -WINDING UP AS HASH! . THIS WEEK coming out of the yard was Philip Parsons?”’ Jim shot tast again. ‘“Yes, sir.”’” This was emphatic. Jim turned to Rodgers. *“Well, I'll be running along, Chief,”” he said. - Then Old Jim did an unusual thing. He stuck out his hand to the man who was the star witness. ‘‘Glad to have met you, Mr. Thomas,"” he said. Thomas was obviously pleased with the show of friendship. He reached out eagerly. Old Jim’s hand closed over the other’s in an iron grip. Thomas winced. Old Jim was immediately apologetic. “I'm sorry,”’ he said. ‘‘Didn’t mean to be rough. Had your hand hurt, didn’t you?'' He lifted the other man'’s hand almost in the Chief’s face as he loosened his grip. ‘‘That finger,”” he said, ‘‘what happened to it?"’ Thomas closed his hand, so that only one finger was protruding — the third finger. “‘Ran a nail in it when I was a kid,”” he said. ‘‘Been stiff ever since — and crooked like this.”’ Old Jim turned to Chief Rodgers. *“This is your man, Chief,”” he said quietly. ‘‘Alton Thomas killed Mrs. Parsons!”’ A half hour later Philip, Chief Rod- gers and Old Jim sat around a small luncheon table. “I'm sorry, Phil,” Chief Rodgers First Glimpse of Love Continved from page thirteen away from the rough strokes on her head, and thrust her crossed arms in- side the pocket of his coat. Her hand touched an oblong paper in a pocket. All right — if he thought she was a child, she’d act like a child. She'd take the paper out, see what it was. It was a picture of her, a snapshot Wally had taken a few weeks ago; taken when she was laughing at some silly thing he’d said. Despite the way her head was being joggled, she man- aged to gasp: “What are you doing with my picture?” There was an instant of silence, then abruptly there were no hands on her head. She heard his voice strained and pretending to be amused: “I didn’t think you’d mind. Most of the boys seem to have pictures of you.” She sat up straight and flung her hair back from her face. This was — this was unbelievable! Why, this could mean that all the time he’d been sort of crazy about her; that he’d come down to the lake only because he was afraid something might happen to her. “You could’ve asked me for my picture,” she told him in the tone a boy expected from a person when he was sort of crazy about her. “Oh, don’t!"’ he said harshly, turm- ing his face away. “‘I’'m not one of your boys — I mean, you're just a kid and I’'ve no right to the picture. I didn’t think you’d ever know I had it.” “‘But why shouldn’t you have it?"”’ “‘Because in a few more days I'll be gone and I'll be a long time away.” “What's that got to do with it?"" He shrugged, his head still averted. “Edgar,” she pleaded gently, “tell me.” She wanted to see his face. This was the sort of divine scene a person made up and daydreamed about. They couldn’t go through it all with her not seeing his face. ‘“Edgar,” she persisted. ‘“Tell me why.” As if he had come to the limit of his strength, he slumped down in the seat and turned, and looked at her. The demure coquetry of her smile died on her lips. This wasn’t the scene. This wasn't it at all. She had been in love and boys had been in love with her. But they hadn’t meant what she saw in his face. They hadn’t meant it to be for ever and ever and. all the world forgotten. She wouldn’t know what it was to feel that. Even the thought of it sort of scared her. She was scared and she was hurting; in her throat it hurt so she couldn’t even ask him to stop looking at her like this. Her frightened eyes fled from his to the picture she held. Her hand crept inside his coat and put the picture back into his pocket — that tiny image of herself that was to go with him to the far corners of the world. And she had imagined him standing on the deck of a ship, gazing out across a lonely sea, her picture in his pocket. She flung herself away from him and buried her face in her arms. “Don’t cry,” he said. “You mustn’t said. *‘And as for you, Jim — well, all I can say is thanks a million times. You saved a blackball being chalked up against my record. But what I want to know is this: how were you so sure, even before we checked ‘em, that that hand mark in the bureau drawer was Thomas'?"’ Old Jim Brown smiled. “Got the photo copy of the print with you?" Chief Rodgers nodded, drew from his coat pocket the photo which would send Alton Thomas to the chair, put it down on the table. The three men leaned over it. Old Jim spoke: ‘‘See this space — looks almost as if the third finger is missing, doesn’t it? But it isn’t; the tip’s there. When Thomas was searching for money, he laid his hand down flat on the bottom of that drawer. But notice, his third finger does not show up like the others. Why? Because it is crooked. Like this — ** Old Jim laid his own gnarled right hand flat on the Chief’s desk. Then he crooked the third finger so that no part of it touched the desk except the tp. & “Crooked, see, like this. That’s how I knew Phil didn’t do it. He has no crooked finger. And then when I saw Thomas’ finger — well, the search was over!” Does Your HAIR Need Help? Don’t wait till it’s too late! Start today and persist with Glover's Mange Medicine and Massage. Shampoo with Glover's Medi- cated Soap. At all Druggists. Your Barber can give you Glover's. GLOVERS The End cry.” He steadied his voice, tried to make it sound impersonal. “This hap- pens all the time to lots of people. Don’t you ever think of it again. Time passes for me as it does for everybody. And someday —' he tried to finish lightly, “‘someday I'll find I’'ve for- gotten, too.” He looked down at her — the back of ahead and a small bundle of blanket. He leaned over and brushed his lips against the damp curls behind her ear — his lips so gentle she did not know he had stolen this meagre rapture for the memories that were all he’d ever have of her. Further adventures of Isabelle Cummings will appear in future sssues of THIS WEEK. MANGE MEDICINE = Any size roll film and never fade - § pectctsas Prilits Included with ALL FOR Resa R. fay your order two .| 4"x6” beautiful double weight 2& professional enlargements. 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