Memphis World
Memphis World Publishing Co.
1957-05-18
Raymond F. Tisby

MEMPHIS WORLD
AMERICA'S STANDARD RACE JOURNAL
The South's Oldest and Leading Colored Semi-Weekly Newspaper
Published by MEMPHIS WORLD PUBLISHING CO.
Every WEDNESDAY and SATURDAY at 546 BEALE — Ph. JA. 6-4030
Member of SCOTT NEWSPAPER SYNDICATE
W. A. Scott, II, Founder; C. A. Scott, General Manager
Entered in the Post Office at Memphis, Tenn., as second-class mall
under the Act of Congress, March 1, 1870
RAYMOND F. TISBY Managing Editor
MRS. ROSA BROWN BRACY Public Relation and Advertising
ALYSON E. WISE Circulation Promotion
SUBSCRIPTION RATES:
Year $5.00 — 6 Months $2.00 — 3 Months $1.50 (In Advance)
The MEMPHIS WORLD is an Independent newspaper — non-sectarian
and non-partisan, printing news unbiasedly and supporting those things
it believes to be of interest to his readers and opposing those things
against the interest of its readers.

Don't Be A Polio Victim
The polio vaccine is among the greatest of recent medical
discoveries. The vaccine is safe, marvelously effective, and it is
now in abundant supply.
Yet, despite this, the national vaccination program is lagging.
The situation is so critical that the trustees of the American
Medical Association recently called a meeting of state and territorial 
medical association representatives to plan and promote
a gigantic polio vaccine program. The idea was born at a prior
meeting between one of the trustees and representatives of the
American Academy of Pediatrics, the American Academy of
General Practice, the Surgeon General of the U. S. Health Service
and others. A general program was agreed upon. Points stressed
are that the vaccine is both safe and effective; that everyone
should be vaccinated, and especially those under 40; that inertia
and apathy are primarily responsible for the failure of large segments 
of the public to be vaccinated, and that the medical profession 
should go all out in an effort to promote the use of the
vaccine. It was also recognized that the principal responsibility
for implementation of the program rests with state and local
medical societies.
It is certainly to be hoped that the medical profession is
successful in this great undertaking - and that public lethargy will
be dissipated once and for all. Some 80,000 Americans have been
crippled by polio - legions more will be needlessly crippled in
the future if the vaccination program continues to lag. Don't be
one of them!

Negro Among

year's prison sentence imposed by
Judge Taylor at the beginning of
the school term for allegedly
causing racial is orders. That sen
tence 
is on appeal.


The Brass and the Blue
By
JAMES KEENE
© Copyright 1956, by James Keene, Reprinted by permission of Random House, Inc. [King Features Syndicate]
IF I could give Jocelyn the will
to go on," Emil Schwabacker
said, "would you help me relieve
him of his command, Cove?"
Cove Butler let his breath
whistle through his teeth. "That
will get you court-martialed, son.
But quick."
"I know that," Schwabacker
said. "Jocelyn is the kind of
man who'll go as far as his legs
will carry him, then he'll travel a
little farther on guts, but there
has to be an end. I give him six
weeks at the outside if he doesn't
get to bed and stay there."
Butler shook his head. "I don't
owe Jocelyn a thing, Emil. He
can make up his own mind; I've
told him the truth, what would
happen if he didn't rest. You be
smart and keep out of It"
Schwabacker looked around
the camp. The infantry were
lounging in the army's manner
of systematic disorder. The cavalry 
were dismounted, but still
waiting On the flanks. "Who
picked this bivouac, Cove?"
"The captain. To tell you the
truth, he couldn't go any farther
and didn't, want to admit it.
Pretty poor, isn't it?"
"From a military standpoint,"
Schwabacker said, "it's terrible."
"There are hostiles around here
too," Butler said softly. "More
than I care to think about.
They've been pacing us all the
way from Fort Laramie."
"Cheyennes?"
"Sioux too," Butler said. "Between 
you and me, I think Jocelyn 
means to make a last-man
stand here."
Schwabacker shook his head.
"Not with one troop of fresh cavalry 
recruits and a regiment of
infantry too fat to run."
"Two troops of cavalry," Butler 
contradicted. "He's got yours
now, boy." He paused to scan the
bracketing hills for several minutes. 
"I saw smoke up there all
afternoon. I wish they'd drop
the other shoe. It nearly kills a
man to know they're out there
and have to wait for them."
"Who's in command of the infantry?" 

"Captain Blaine. This is his
first tour in Indian country."
Butler smiled.
Emil Schwabacker went back
to his own bivouac, where he
found Sergeant Sean Finnegan
inspecting the surrounding terrain 
and not liking a bit of it No
one had to tell this troop of hardbitten 
fifty-cent regulars that
host lies were out there or what
they were there for.
Finnegan said, "How's th'
capt'n, sor?"
"Very poorly," Schwabacker
said. "Well, Sergeant, what would
you say our chances were here?"
Finnegan took off his kept and
made a mess of his hair with
probing fingers. "Well, sor, it
surely is hard to say. Them duckfooted 
infantry men is mighty
temptin" to a mounted Sioux.
Then again, there's somethin'
holdin' 'em back or they'd have
attacked already. Meanin' no disrespect, 
sor, but it sure ain't th'
capt'n's cavalry. I'd say medicine, 
sor. Them heathens is sure

funny when it comes to their
medicine."
"In short, Sergeant, you don't
know any more than I do."
"Aye, sor," Finnegan said,
grinning, "but I was sort of
hopin' you wouldn't find that
out" He scuffed dust into a
small pile, then kicked it into
a cloud. "I just don't like this
danged country here, sor."
He was Justified, Schwabacker
decided. Jocelyn's camp was in
the only open stretch of land for
the next fifteen miles. His picket
line formed in the grove near the
bend of a stream. A circular
bivouac could be formed here,
but Schwabacker struck the possibility 
out of his mind. The only
answer was to move, with or
without Captain Temple Jocelyn's 
consent.
"Sergeant," Schwabacker said,
"what are the possibilities of
making a night march?"
"Poorly, sor. It's all right for
the cavalry, sor, but them poor
foot sojers'll stumble all over
themselves."
"They'll have to get along the
best they can," Schwabacker said
with finality. "Sergeant, you
took me into your confidence
once concerning Captain Jocelyn's 
past. I want you to go a
step further and give me his
wife's address."
"I couldn't do that, sor."
"Finnegan, I don't mean to pull
rank on you, but I haven't time
or inclination to explain at this
time. I simply want his wife's
address. If the man insists on
dying, then I think she has the
right to choose between being
with him at the end or not Now,
will you give me her address?"
"Yes, sor. Sexton's Junction,
Virginia, sor." He paused to wipe
a hand across his mustached
mouth. "I sure hope this is right,
sor."
"If you can save a man's life
it's right," Schwabacker said.
"He's been waiting for a letter
from her. Maybe I can get what
he wants." He touched Finnegan
on the arm. "Fetch my dispatch
case and select a man who can
ride. I want this letter taken to
Laramie in time to catch the
Wednesday stage."
"Yes, sor," Finnegan said and
turned away.
With the letter to Temple Jocelyn's 
wife sealed and in the hands
of Trooper Johnson, Schwabacker 
walked over to Captain Jocelyn's 
tent. Jocelyn was sitting
in the camp chair, his head
thrown back, his eyes closed. He
heard the trooper ride out and
his eyes followed him until he
passed from sight. Then they
focused on Emil Schwabacker.
"Lieutenant, I authorized no one
to leave this bivouac."
"He left on my authorization,
sir," Schwabacker said firmly.
"I'm sorry to disturb you, sir,
but. I would like a word concerning 
the disposition of the troops."
"As you can see they are in
bivouac," Jocelyn said flatly.
"Lieutenant, I suggest that you
unite your troops Wth mine."
"Does that mean that I am relieved 
of my command, Captain?"
"No, no, of course not," Joce
lyn 
said with a trace of irritability. 
"I'm only suggesting a
solidification of command for
safety and maximum security."
"Sir," Schwabacker said bluntly, 
"I believe that this bivouac
violates every concept of field
security. It's unwise to remain
here."
The look Temple Jocelyn gave
Schwabacker was a shock to the
young officer, for something of
Schwabacker's father came into
Jocelyn's eyes and the stony cast
of his cheeks. Sergeant Finnegan
chose that time to come over.
He stood to Schwabacker's left,
near Jocelyn, but the captain did
not even favor him with a glance.
"Lieutenant, are you pitting your
picayune experience against my
years of service?" He waved his
hand. "You've served me: you
know I'm not a martinet! But I
believe I'm the best judge in this
case."
"I have no intention of debating 
..."
"Neither have I, Lieutenant!
As your senior officer I might
remind you that your conduct is
bordering on the disrespectful.
I'm not going to be tied to a
saddle again, do you understand?
As long as I have voice to command, 
command I will!"
For a moment Schwabacker
could only stare in stunned disbelief. 
Even Sergeant Finnegan
with his long relationship, could
not quite hide, his shock. At first,
Schwabacker was unable to understand 
Jocelyn's meaning, but
the pieces fell into place like a
difficult puzzle. All along, he had
mistakenly believed Jocelyn was
grateful for having been saved at
Ryndlee's. But Temple Jocelyn
was not! Instead of uniting them,
Schwabacker's action had only
pushed them further apart Jocelyn, 
like Schwabacker's father,
felt shame, not gratitude, when a
weakness was exposed. With this
new knowledge, Emil Schwabacker 
was certain that the only thing
that would ever right this would
be a time when he was weak and
Jocelyn could bestow his strength.
In that moment he learned a
startling truth about Jocelyn.
Lieutenant Emil Schwabacker
said slowly, "Captain, I'm sorry,
but I deem it inadvisable to remain 
here. I'm ordering the
command to move in one hour."
"In that event," Jocelyn said
evenly, "I will see that you face
a general court-martial." He
coughed and flecks of blood came
to his lips. Quickly he covered
his mouth with his handkerchief.
"Sergeant Finnegan," Schwabacker 
said, "ask Dr. Butler to
come here. I want the captain
removed to the ambulance."
Finnegan started to turn, but
stopped when Temple Jocelyn unflapped 
his pistol holster and
drew his gun. The cocking hammer 
was a series of snapping
sticks, then the bore settled on
Emil Schwabacker's belt buckle.
"Your saber, sir. I'm placing
you under arrest"


CHAPTER 17
By
JAMES KEENE
© Copyright 1956, by James Keene, Reprinted by permission of Random House, Inc. [King Features Syndicate]
IF I could give Jocelyn the will
to go on," Emil Schwabacker
said, "would you help me relieve
him of his command, Cove?"
Cove Butler let his breath
whistle through his teeth. "That
will get you court-martialed, son.
But quick."
"I know that," Schwabacker
said. "Jocelyn is the kind of
man who'll go as far as his legs
will carry him, then he'll travel a
little farther on guts, but there
has to be an end. I give him six
weeks at the outside if he doesn't
get to bed and stay there."
Butler shook his head. "I don't
owe Jocelyn a thing, Emil. He
can make up his own mind; I've
told him the truth, what would
happen if he didn't rest. You be
smart and keep out of It"
Schwabacker looked around
the camp. The infantry were
lounging in the army's manner
of systematic disorder. The cavalry 
were dismounted, but still
waiting On the flanks. "Who
picked this bivouac, Cove?"
"The captain. To tell you the
truth, he couldn't go any farther
and didn't, want to admit it.
Pretty poor, isn't it?"
"From a military standpoint,"
Schwabacker said, "it's terrible."
"There are hostiles around here
too," Butler said softly. "More
than I care to think about.
They've been pacing us all the
way from Fort Laramie."
"Cheyennes?"
"Sioux too," Butler said. "Between 
you and me, I think Jocelyn 
means to make a last-man
stand here."
Schwabacker shook his head.
"Not with one troop of fresh cavalry 
recruits and a regiment of
infantry too fat to run."
"Two troops of cavalry," Butler 
contradicted. "He's got yours
now, boy." He paused to scan the
bracketing hills for several minutes. 
"I saw smoke up there all
afternoon. I wish they'd drop
the other shoe. It nearly kills a
man to know they're out there
and have to wait for them."
"Who's in command of the infantry?" 

"Captain Blaine. This is his
first tour in Indian country."
Butler smiled.
Emil Schwabacker went back
to his own bivouac, where he
found Sergeant Sean Finnegan
inspecting the surrounding terrain 
and not liking a bit of it No
one had to tell this troop of hardbitten 
fifty-cent regulars that
host lies were out there or what
they were there for.
Finnegan said, "How's th'
capt'n, sor?"
"Very poorly," Schwabacker
said. "Well, Sergeant, what would
you say our chances were here?"
Finnegan took off his kept and
made a mess of his hair with
probing fingers. "Well, sor, it
surely is hard to say. Them duckfooted 
infantry men is mighty
temptin" to a mounted Sioux.
Then again, there's somethin'
holdin' 'em back or they'd have
attacked already. Meanin' no disrespect, 
sor, but it sure ain't th'
capt'n's cavalry. I'd say medicine, 
sor. Them heathens is sure

funny when it comes to their
medicine."
"In short, Sergeant, you don't
know any more than I do."
"Aye, sor," Finnegan said,
grinning, "but I was sort of
hopin' you wouldn't find that
out" He scuffed dust into a
small pile, then kicked it into
a cloud. "I just don't like this
danged country here, sor."
He was Justified, Schwabacker
decided. Jocelyn's camp was in
the only open stretch of land for
the next fifteen miles. His picket
line formed in the grove near the
bend of a stream. A circular
bivouac could be formed here,
but Schwabacker struck the possibility 
out of his mind. The only
answer was to move, with or
without Captain Temple Jocelyn's 
consent.
"Sergeant," Schwabacker said,
"what are the possibilities of
making a night march?"
"Poorly, sor. It's all right for
the cavalry, sor, but them poor
foot sojers'll stumble all over
themselves."
"They'll have to get along the
best they can," Schwabacker said
with finality. "Sergeant, you
took me into your confidence
once concerning Captain Jocelyn's 
past. I want you to go a
step further and give me his
wife's address."
"I couldn't do that, sor."
"Finnegan, I don't mean to pull
rank on you, but I haven't time
or inclination to explain at this
time. I simply want his wife's
address. If the man insists on
dying, then I think she has the
right to choose between being
with him at the end or not Now,
will you give me her address?"
"Yes, sor. Sexton's Junction,
Virginia, sor." He paused to wipe
a hand across his mustached
mouth. "I sure hope this is right,
sor."
"If you can save a man's life
it's right," Schwabacker said.
"He's been waiting for a letter
from her. Maybe I can get what
he wants." He touched Finnegan
on the arm. "Fetch my dispatch
case and select a man who can
ride. I want this letter taken to
Laramie in time to catch the
Wednesday stage."
"Yes, sor," Finnegan said and
turned away.
With the letter to Temple Jocelyn's 
wife sealed and in the hands
of Trooper Johnson, Schwabacker 
walked over to Captain Jocelyn's 
tent. Jocelyn was sitting
in the camp chair, his head
thrown back, his eyes closed. He
heard the trooper ride out and
his eyes followed him until he
passed from sight. Then they
focused on Emil Schwabacker.
"Lieutenant, I authorized no one
to leave this bivouac."
"He left on my authorization,
sir," Schwabacker said firmly.
"I'm sorry to disturb you, sir,
but. I would like a word concerning 
the disposition of the troops."
"As you can see they are in
bivouac," Jocelyn said flatly.
"Lieutenant, I suggest that you
unite your troops Wth mine."
"Does that mean that I am relieved 
of my command, Captain?"
"No, no, of course not," Joce
lyn 
said with a trace of irritability. 
"I'm only suggesting a
solidification of command for
safety and maximum security."
"Sir," Schwabacker said bluntly, 
"I believe that this bivouac
violates every concept of field
security. It's unwise to remain
here."
The look Temple Jocelyn gave
Schwabacker was a shock to the
young officer, for something of
Schwabacker's father came into
Jocelyn's eyes and the stony cast
of his cheeks. Sergeant Finnegan
chose that time to come over.
He stood to Schwabacker's left,
near Jocelyn, but the captain did
not even favor him with a glance.
"Lieutenant, are you pitting your
picayune experience against my
years of service?" He waved his
hand. "You've served me: you
know I'm not a martinet! But I
believe I'm the best judge in this
case."
"I have no intention of debating 
..."
"Neither have I, Lieutenant!
As your senior officer I might
remind you that your conduct is
bordering on the disrespectful.
I'm not going to be tied to a
saddle again, do you understand?
As long as I have voice to command, 
command I will!"
For a moment Schwabacker
could only stare in stunned disbelief. 
Even Sergeant Finnegan
with his long relationship, could
not quite hide, his shock. At first,
Schwabacker was unable to understand 
Jocelyn's meaning, but
the pieces fell into place like a
difficult puzzle. All along, he had
mistakenly believed Jocelyn was
grateful for having been saved at
Ryndlee's. But Temple Jocelyn
was not! Instead of uniting them,
Schwabacker's action had only
pushed them further apart Jocelyn, 
like Schwabacker's father,
felt shame, not gratitude, when a
weakness was exposed. With this
new knowledge, Emil Schwabacker 
was certain that the only thing
that would ever right this would
be a time when he was weak and
Jocelyn could bestow his strength.
In that moment he learned a
startling truth about Jocelyn.
Lieutenant Emil Schwabacker
said slowly, "Captain, I'm sorry,
but I deem it inadvisable to remain 
here. I'm ordering the
command to move in one hour."
"In that event," Jocelyn said
evenly, "I will see that you face
a general court-martial." He
coughed and flecks of blood came
to his lips. Quickly he covered
his mouth with his handkerchief.
"Sergeant Finnegan," Schwabacker 
said, "ask Dr. Butler to
come here. I want the captain
removed to the ambulance."
Finnegan started to turn, but
stopped when Temple Jocelyn unflapped 
his pistol holster and
drew his gun. The cocking hammer 
was a series of snapping
sticks, then the bore settled on
Emil Schwabacker's belt buckle.
"Your saber, sir. I'm placing
you under arrest"


REVIEWING
THE NEWS
BY WILLIAM GORDON
He look me over to the window where the light of the Sun
was strong.
"Take a look," he said, "good look. This city is being run
with men of character. We have Negroes on every important city
government committee, not as Negroes, but as men of character."
The thought has remained. It became alive again last week
when we had two Negroes to run in the Atlanta primary election,
both of substantial character.
I don't, need to sell the names of Dr. Rufus E. Clement, president 
of Atlanta University and T. M. Alexander, Atlanta businessman 
to the public. They have already made their marks.
Both represent the calibre and kind of men seeking public
office that the Mayor of a North Carolina town talked about a
few months ago. In this particular Southern city Negroes are represented 
at almost every governmental level. They have been
picked for various posts, without opposition. They sit on the
library and hospital boards, and represent their communities
with distinction.
Many other deep South cities are gradually beginning to accept 
the Negro public official for what he is, a capable, well trained 
skillful person, not narrowed by prejudice.
"The letter I received from a Negro candidate the other day,"
said a Southern businessman, "was superior in every sense. It actually 
put his opponents far into the background."
The Negro public servant can learn a lesson from his white
counterpart. He will not make the mistakes of the demagogues, the
corrupt-minded official seeking office for his own personal gains.
He knows the brunt of neglect, the poverty and the grind linked
with being without. The Negro public official has too much at
stake, not only his own reputation, but that of an entire race
which rests on his shoulders. He must make good wherever he
serves. The South is gradually getting around to accepting this.
The Negro public servant takes his lesson from history. Where
dishonesty, corruption and inefficiency prevail, not a few but
many people have lost and failed. Decisions in government cannot 
be made on the basis of race, color or creed. Public office is a
sacred trust and that principle cannot be sacrificed for the sake
of expediency. Good government prevails only when character
sits in office.

When Character Sits In Office...
BY WILLIAM GORDON
He look me over to the window where the light of the Sun
was strong.
"Take a look," he said, "good look. This city is being run
with men of character. We have Negroes on every important city
government committee, not as Negroes, but as men of character."
The thought has remained. It became alive again last week
when we had two Negroes to run in the Atlanta primary election,
both of substantial character.
I don't, need to sell the names of Dr. Rufus E. Clement, president 
of Atlanta University and T. M. Alexander, Atlanta businessman 
to the public. They have already made their marks.
Both represent the calibre and kind of men seeking public
office that the Mayor of a North Carolina town talked about a
few months ago. In this particular Southern city Negroes are represented 
at almost every governmental level. They have been
picked for various posts, without opposition. They sit on the
library and hospital boards, and represent their communities
with distinction.
Many other deep South cities are gradually beginning to accept 
the Negro public official for what he is, a capable, well trained 
skillful person, not narrowed by prejudice.
"The letter I received from a Negro candidate the other day,"
said a Southern businessman, "was superior in every sense. It actually 
put his opponents far into the background."
The Negro public servant can learn a lesson from his white
counterpart. He will not make the mistakes of the demagogues, the
corrupt-minded official seeking office for his own personal gains.
He knows the brunt of neglect, the poverty and the grind linked
with being without. The Negro public official has too much at
stake, not only his own reputation, but that of an entire race
which rests on his shoulders. He must make good wherever he
serves. The South is gradually getting around to accepting this.
The Negro public servant takes his lesson from history. Where
dishonesty, corruption and inefficiency prevail, not a few but
many people have lost and failed. Decisions in government cannot 
be made on the basis of race, color or creed. Public office is a
sacred trust and that principle cannot be sacrificed for the sake
of expediency. Good government prevails only when character
sits in office.

MEALTIME MELODIES!
Pilaf, Pilaff and Pilau are names
used in Turkey, Pakistan and
neighboring countries for a highly 
seasoned combination of rice,
meat or poultry, spices and dairy
products.
The chicken Pilaf has reached
away off to bring Turkey to us.
But with the exception of the
spices it uses products that are
produced right in our neighborhood. 
According to the USA
chicken, dairy products and rice
are listed as plentifuls.
Ever though occasionally I run
into someone who has not seen
rice growing it is grown right in
our own backyards so to speak
Farmers are vying with the weather 
these days trying to get this
year's rice seeded. So just try this
tie-up between the foreign and local 
using a very tender frying
chicken and your results will be
most satisfactory.
Generous proportions 
of tumeric, 
ginger and hot
peppers are expected 
so that a
cool-off chutney
is the usual companion 
for Pilaf.
There are many
versions of chutney. 
In this Americanized 
uncooked 
recipe, the
sour cream and
yoghurt are sub
stituted 
for the curd-base of very
rich-buffalo milk used in Pakistan.

2 or 3 pound frying chicken
(cut up)
1 cup butter
1-2 cup chopped onion
1 cup chopped green pepper
1-4 cup dry chili peppers
1 tablespoon tumeric
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1 teaspoon pepper
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon salt
2 1-2 cups (two 104-2 oz cans) tomato 
puree
2 cups rice, cooked
(The 1 teaspoon pepper should
be red pepper if dried chili peppers 
are not used.)
Melt butter in a large skillet. Add
onion and chicken. When chicken
is browned, add green peppers, chilli
peppers, tumeric, ginger, pepper,
cinnamon, salt and tomato puree.
Stir. Cover and cook slowly until
chicken is fork-tender. Sread cooked 
rice in the bottom of a 3-qt
baking dish or pan. Arrange chicken 
and sauce on top. Bake in a
moderate Oven (375 degrees F) for
20 minutes. Serve with uncooked
Chutney.
Uncooked Chutney: Combine 1
cup commercially soured cream and
1 cup Yoghurt, cut a large unprepared 
cucumber into 8 portions.
lengthwise, then cut into 1-2-inch
chunks. Cut a tomato into half
sections. Combine ligtly cucumber,
tomato, some chives, onions and
celery with soured cream and yoghurt. 
Chill. Serves 6.

Chicken Pilax
Pilaf, Pilaff and Pilau are names
used in Turkey, Pakistan and
neighboring countries for a highly 
seasoned combination of rice,
meat or poultry, spices and dairy
products.
The chicken Pilaf has reached
away off to bring Turkey to us.
But with the exception of the
spices it uses products that are
produced right in our neighborhood. 
According to the USA
chicken, dairy products and rice
are listed as plentifuls.
Ever though occasionally I run
into someone who has not seen
rice growing it is grown right in
our own backyards so to speak
Farmers are vying with the weather 
these days trying to get this
year's rice seeded. So just try this
tie-up between the foreign and local 
using a very tender frying
chicken and your results will be
most satisfactory.
Generous proportions 
of tumeric, 
ginger and hot
peppers are expected 
so that a
cool-off chutney
is the usual companion 
for Pilaf.
There are many
versions of chutney. 
In this Americanized 
uncooked 
recipe, the
sour cream and
yoghurt are sub
stituted 
for the curd-base of very
rich-buffalo milk used in Pakistan.

2 or 3 pound frying chicken
(cut up)
1 cup butter
1-2 cup chopped onion
1 cup chopped green pepper
1-4 cup dry chili peppers
1 tablespoon tumeric
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1 teaspoon pepper
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon salt
2 1-2 cups (two 104-2 oz cans) tomato 
puree
2 cups rice, cooked
(The 1 teaspoon pepper should
be red pepper if dried chili peppers 
are not used.)
Melt butter in a large skillet. Add
onion and chicken. When chicken
is browned, add green peppers, chilli
peppers, tumeric, ginger, pepper,
cinnamon, salt and tomato puree.
Stir. Cover and cook slowly until
chicken is fork-tender. Sread cooked 
rice in the bottom of a 3-qt
baking dish or pan. Arrange chicken 
and sauce on top. Bake in a
moderate Oven (375 degrees F) for
20 minutes. Serve with uncooked
Chutney.
Uncooked Chutney: Combine 1
cup commercially soured cream and
1 cup Yoghurt, cut a large unprepared 
cucumber into 8 portions.
lengthwise, then cut into 1-2-inch
chunks. Cut a tomato into half
sections. Combine ligtly cucumber,
tomato, some chives, onions and
celery with soured cream and yoghurt. 
Chill. Serves 6.

Poor Summer

for our larger firms to create a few
Jobs for our young people. It
would be the cheapest advertising
that they cou'd buy for their firm
and would establish for them as
abondance of good will plus an investment 
in good citizenship.
The urban League has appealed
through the press, to all . Who are
interested in the economic welfare
of the community to give its Negro
youth opportunities to work. We are
unable at this time to determine
how successful we shall be in find
ing 
jobs in the broader industrial
field in Memphis. But it is one
thing certain, we must do something 
for ourselves. We must provide 
Job opportunities for ourselves. 

Negroes in this area of the country 
enjoy tremendous buying power.
Those whom they patronize are not
always aware of the Negroe's contribution 
to their economic wellbeing. 
There are numerous businesses 
that would go out of business 
if they lost their Negro patrons, 
but these same firms employ 
only a very limited number
of Negroes, in menial capacities.
Negroes have little or no opportunity 
to make nor distribute the millions 
of dollars worth of commodities 
that they consume.
Let's take a look at the other
side. People must merit the opportunities 
they seek. The first requirement 
is preparedness, second
a will to work, alertness, ability
to think and cooperate with associates 
and manifest a loyalty to
the organization, with which one
works.
The future will really belong to
those who prepare themselves. This
is emphasized in every vocational
guidance program conducted for
youth. It is not enough to have
limited training, "a little learning

is a dangerous thing."
Hard work to obtain ones goal
is essential. There will be some jobs
for young men in this area. It will
consist of hard work, common labor, 
at $1.53 per hour. Shall we
be able to find the strong willing
worker to tackle these as a means
to an "end."
There is really no such thing,
any more as light office work or
easy jobs Work is Work.

New Curriculum For
Lincoln Journalists
A new journalism curriculum will
go into effect at Lincoln University 
(Mo.) with the fall semester
of 1567, following a report by the
College Policies Committee to the
effect that the plan meets the
requirements for a bachelor of arts
degree.
Planning for the curriculum has
been going on since two years ago
when the decision was made to
convert the School of Journalism
into a department of the College
of Arts and Sciences. The purpose
is to integrate the curriculum into 
the college system in order to
serve the needs of students in all
departments as well as those anticipating 
careers in journalism.
According to Lee S. Cole, acting
head of the department, the curriculum 
new look is an effort to provide 
students with courses which
will better enable them to exploit
skills developed in other areas of
the university as business, the
sciences, art, etc.
The program still provides for
the cultural background necessary
for successful careers in professional 
communications and specialized 
studies and practices that
will fit students for work on business, 
advertising, news, and editorial 
staffs of publications; in
teaching public relations and research. 
The new program also offers 
a minor in journalism for
students of all departments.

Your friendly Sinclair Dealer has a new gasoline that...
WORKS LIKE A FREE ENGINE TUNE-UP
 in Sinclair Power-X
Gasoline tunes up your engine automatically every
time you drive. That's because this amazing X-Chemical 
"Octane Booster", developed by Sinclair Research,
eliminates harmful engine deposits that ruin power
and performance.
In an older car, after 3 tankfuls of Power-X, you'll
feel a new surge of power - as if you just had an engine 
tune-up. In a new car, Power-X brings out all the
full power of the highest compression engine — helps
keep it running like new, year after year.

They get friendly, efficient service from
25,000 Sinclair Dealers in 36 states.
Motorists tell us Power-X gives them mote mileage,
too — up to 40 miles more per tankful. You can depend 
oh Sinclair Power-X — a product of Sinclair's
40 years of refining experience.

says Dino, the Sinclair Dinosaur
POWER UP WITH POWER-X THE SUPER FUEL


Senator Symington

Science on Saturday. The meeting
was held at Central Missouri
State College, Warrensburg, with
students from five Missouri colleges 
and universities including
the University of Missouri, competing 
for awards.
Top award went to, Robert C.
Schroer of Jefferson City Senior
chemistry major at Lincoln.
Schroer's prize-winning paper, entitled 
"The Preparation, Equilibrium 
Pressures and Thermodynamic
Constants of the Decomposition of
the M-Bromoaniline-Sulfur Dioxide
Complex" was based on a research
project which he has been carrying 
on in the chemistry department
since last September. Schroer, an
assistant in the department, and
president of the Chemistry club,
receive his B. S. degree in June.
He is the son of Mr. and Mrs. Ed
ward 
Schroer, and a graduate of
of Jefferson Junior College.
Honorable mention was warded
Albert Williams, junior of Jefferson
City, and Lawrence Bee, senior of
Gary, Indiana, both biolog ymajors. 
Their jointedly prepared paper
was entitled "A Study of the Distribution 
of the Arthropods in the
Five Strata: Soil, Leaf Layer, Herbs
Shrubs and Trees. Williams is the
retiring president of the organization, 
and presided at the meeting
on Saturday.
Second and third place wards
went to students from Williams
Jewel college and the University
of Missouri, respectively. A William 
Jewel student was also given
honorable mention.
In addition to the prize winners
others from Lincoln who attended
the meeting were Carl Smith, Hilliard 
Scott, Dr. U. S. Maxwell and
Dr. Willis E. Byrd.

"Sense Of Humor"

their examinations that day. Senior 
Class Day on May 25 begins the
final exercises which include Baccalaureate 
May 26 and Commencement 
May 27.
Georgia Hughes, Junior from
Birmingham, Ala., was recently
crowned Sweetheart of Kappa Al
Pha 
Psi Fraternity. She succeeds
Jamesetta W. Lewis, a Knoxvillian
who is also Miss Knoxville College
for 1956-57. The new sweetheart is
a math major and chemistry minor,
and ah Alpha Kappa Alpha soror.

Wise Critiques

provide during these occasional
periods of Stygian darkness.
Should you read Rev. McNeill's
vehicle you will see "prophecized,"
the extinction of the Ku Klux
Kan, White Citizens Councils,
rabble rousers, exit of the apathetic
Negro, emergence of an interracial
leadership which will pave trails of
workable understanding, brotherly
love, and last, but not least, a cohesive, 
application of Christianity
in practice.
Having avidly read this article
thru tout once-at this writing-I
have decided that when current
racial problems and incidents become 
unbearable and seemingly
lost, here is my guidance and refuge 
in Rev. Robert B. McNeill's
timely article, Solution For The
Louth.

Employee Earnings
In South Advance
Average hourly earnings at
straight-time for the 6,033,000 nonsupervisory 
retail trade employees
covered by a survey late in 1956
varied from $1.16 in the South to
$1.68 in the West, according to
Brunswick A. Bagdon, Southern
Regional Director of the U. S. Department 
of Labors Bureau of Labor 
Statistics. Average hourly earnings 
nationally were $1.41. Overall,
men average $1.53, and women
$1.11; men on a 40-hour work schedule 
averaged $1.89 and women
$1.23.
In releasing tne report, Mr. Bagdon 
pointed out that the distribution 
of goods at retail is carried on
through a vast network of Industries 
with varying labor force requirements, 
methods of wage payment 
and other distinctive characteristics. 
The survey revealed a
wide range of earnings for men
and women classified by weekly
hours of employment, region, and
size of community.
An estimated 611,00 employes, or
10 percent of the total, earned less
than 75 cents an hour; 26 percent
earned less than $1. About" 50 percent 
of the nonsupervisory employees 
earned under $1.25 an hour; at
the upper end, almost 900,000 workers, 
or 15 percent of the total,
earned $2 or more an hour.

BUY BONDS