Memphis World
Memphis World Publishing Co.
1957-12-21
Thaddeus T. Stokes

MAMPHIS WORLD
The South's Oldest and Leading Colored Semi-Weekly Newspapers
Published by MEMPHIS WORLD PUBLISHING CO.
Every WEDNESDAY and SATURDAY at 564 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 mail
under the Act of Congress, March 1, 1870
THADDEUS T. STOKES Managing Editor
MRS. ROSA BROWN BRACY Circulation Manager
SUBSCRIPTION RATES:
Year $5.00 — 6 Months $3.00 — 3 Months $1.25 (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 its readers and opposing those thing
against the interest of its readers.

"The Negro Moves Up"
The economic expansion of the Negro would Well prove a
scientific index of American democracy. It would prove even
more than that. The many phases of democratic precedure,
which he had to surmount, would be also an index of his own
ingenuity and his ability to make the strides he has made in the
absence of unrestricted industrial and social resources.
The old idiom, "more in the man than in the land" would
well apply in a situation in which Secretary of Labor James P.
Mitchell, traced the phenomenal growth of Negro aims and
achievements.
In a recent release in the widely read Readers Digest, Secretary 
Mitchell pointed out the progress of the race. The most
wholesome of his references were those in which he gave facts
and figures of the Negro's industrial strides. In the field of insurance, 
he stated that the Negroes owned more than 200 Life
Insurance Companies and operated 44 Banks and Sayings and
Loan Institutions with assets of over 100 million dollars.
In the field of home ownership, the author stated that "Onethird 
of U. S. Negroes owned their own homes and that the group
had a yearly purchasing power of 17.5 billion dollars.
It will be seen at a glance, that with such an outlay of consumption 
of goods which would reach the peak of 17.5 billion
in purchases, would emphasize the growing importance of our
race as an integral part of this nation.
Surely, the contents of Secretary Mitchell's story, "The Negro 
Moves Up," would be a powerful claim of this nation to a
high standard in human -relations. This would be wholesome
material just how in the bargaining being carried on in the UN
and at NATO.
This is a powerful success story; it carries with it weight,
and when time takes into account the strides our people have
made in the face of conditions, it will write his annals by the
side of those pioneers whose fortitude and native industry built
from a perilous wilderness, this land of the free.

Getting Ready For A New Year And A New Era
Nearing the close of the year brings on the reshuffle for
things to come. Getting ready for a more successful year in the
course of-things is the thought uppermost in the mind of the individual. 

In business one makes surveys, contrasts and those inquiries
into conditions that were not so conducive to profits and progress. 
Making necessary corrections and mending broken places
will be the order of the day during the few remaining days of
the year.
Such an inventory would go for the civic and political side
of our being. We would recount the gains and the attendant results 
of what we achieved during the year.
In the realm of citizenship, it is important also to check up
on whatever accomplishments we have to our credit
This has been a fruitful year in the arena of Negro citizenship; 
we have come into some new realizations of what good
government means to minorities, and history will not soon let
time forget the powerful strokes made on the part of this administration 
in behalf of those whose civil rights demanded
treatment.
Inasmuch as we have netted gains; we must augment our
farces to fortify those interests which brought this to pass. It is
ours to begin anew the plan to roll up more eligible? for the
ballot, that medium by which we came to most of our gains.
Let there also be, in the closing days of the year, a renewed 
spirit and a more far-reaching plan for the enlistment of
those who would sign the roll of honor by which we march on
and on into the pure sunlight of civil rights.
Let's get ready for a new year and a new era.

ABUNDANT LIFE
BY ORAL ROBERTS
Once I saw one of the most
expensive rugs in the world. It
was worth in excess of $50,000.
I picked up a corner of It and
turned it over and looked-on the
other Bide. The threads were
running crazily in every direction. 
There was no order, beauty
or design. Then I flipped it over
again and there on that side
was this beautiful design woven
by the hands of a master crafts
man.
God's hand is like Unit. He
ran pick up a human life that
la all mixed up confused and
flowing out in a hundred different, 
directions. He can lit the
affairs of our life into something
of exquisite beauty
Charlie C. of Glendale California, 
stood looking down upon
the slowly moving bosom of the
Mississippi River Just one
quick jump over the handrail
and the "father ot waters"
would enfold him in a dark embrace. 
A few months before, he
was beading for the top of his
chosen profession—a stock and
bond salesman.
But suddenly his entire world
lay at his feet in ruins. He was
Ieft absolutely penniless.
As he stood that day no the
bridge he recognized that he was
a total failure. Now the question—what 
should be do? Should
he jump? It was a way out! But
maybe he could find another
way.
He walked by a mission on
the back side of town. Perhaps
this thing called "religion"
would help. So he entered into
the outward form of worship.
when the offering plate was
passed, be dropped Co last $2.00

he had in the plate. Eagerly
he waited to see what would
happen. Nothing happened. As
soon as the service was over, he
returned to his apartment. The
experiment in religion had
failed.
But suddenly it dawned on him
that if Cod had the answer for
his life and his problems, he
couldn't buy that answer for two
dollars or two million dollars
Hut if he would only believe and
have faith. God would give it to
him,
He leaped to his feet and
rushed out. It was ten o Clock
at the little mission the lights
had been turned out But he
shouted Co the little- group who
were still talking out front
"Turn your lights back on Let's
go back into the church You
have a red-hot prospect herel
The language of the salesman
was the only language that he
knew But the preacher understood 
what he meant Together
they knelt, at the altar.
From that moment on he was
a new man. His attitude toward
life was completely changed. He
loved God and he loved all of
God's creatures
Things began to break again
for him in the business world
. . . not overnight, but there
was a steady climb. Today Charlie 
is an outstanding real estate
and building contractor
He found that when we let
the "Master Weaver" take the
tangled strands of our lives, the
pattern begins to assume a wonderful 
shape. Suddenly life
comes into focus and it reveals
to us the beauty and steadfastnew 
of God's love.

CHARLIE MET THE MASTER WEAVER
BY ORAL ROBERTS
Once I saw one of the most
expensive rugs in the world. It
was worth in excess of $50,000.
I picked up a corner of It and
turned it over and looked-on the
other Bide. The threads were
running crazily in every direction. 
There was no order, beauty
or design. Then I flipped it over
again and there on that side
was this beautiful design woven
by the hands of a master crafts
man.
God's hand is like Unit. He
ran pick up a human life that
la all mixed up confused and
flowing out in a hundred different, 
directions. He can lit the
affairs of our life into something
of exquisite beauty
Charlie C. of Glendale California, 
stood looking down upon
the slowly moving bosom of the
Mississippi River Just one
quick jump over the handrail
and the "father ot waters"
would enfold him in a dark embrace. 
A few months before, he
was beading for the top of his
chosen profession—a stock and
bond salesman.
But suddenly his entire world
lay at his feet in ruins. He was
Ieft absolutely penniless.
As he stood that day no the
bridge he recognized that he was
a total failure. Now the question—what 
should be do? Should
he jump? It was a way out! But
maybe he could find another
way.
He walked by a mission on
the back side of town. Perhaps
this thing called "religion"
would help. So he entered into
the outward form of worship.
when the offering plate was
passed, be dropped Co last $2.00

he had in the plate. Eagerly
he waited to see what would
happen. Nothing happened. As
soon as the service was over, he
returned to his apartment. The
experiment in religion had
failed.
But suddenly it dawned on him
that if Cod had the answer for
his life and his problems, he
couldn't buy that answer for two
dollars or two million dollars
Hut if he would only believe and
have faith. God would give it to
him,
He leaped to his feet and
rushed out. It was ten o Clock
at the little mission the lights
had been turned out But he
shouted Co the little- group who
were still talking out front
"Turn your lights back on Let's
go back into the church You
have a red-hot prospect herel
The language of the salesman
was the only language that he
knew But the preacher understood 
what he meant Together
they knelt, at the altar.
From that moment on he was
a new man. His attitude toward
life was completely changed. He
loved God and he loved all of
God's creatures
Things began to break again
for him in the business world
. . . not overnight, but there
was a steady climb. Today Charlie 
is an outstanding real estate
and building contractor
He found that when we let
the "Master Weaver" take the
tangled strands of our lives, the
pattern begins to assume a wonderful 
shape. Suddenly life
comes into focus and it reveals
to us the beauty and steadfastnew 
of God's love.

The Lonely Man
By JAMES RONALD
Deborah Vail an actress unengaged
at the moment, la driving from London 
to Garnock, Scotland, to visit a
married cousin, Joyce Monteith. Near
Garnock during a stormy evening
she is stopped in a lonely stretch of
road by a flat tire. She sets out to
locate a telephone". At the only house
she sees, she is confronted by a man
who greets her angrily Can't you
go away and leave me in peace?
What do you think I am—a peep
show' I ought to welcome you with
a gun!"
The stranger whose name is An
drew Garvin; admits her unwillingly,
telling her that he has no telephone.
But when Garvin goes out to repair
her tire, she hears a telephone ring.
Locating it; Deborah picks up the
receiver. A shocking voice demands
"Get out and stay out! You're not
wanted here!" Then, during" a prying 
inspection' ot the house, she is
frightened by 'a brutish face staring
at her through a window.
Upon his return. Garvin sends her
on her way without an explanation of
these happenings. Deborah reaches
the Monteiths. At the mention of
Garvin's name, Joyce exclaims: He
murdered, his wife!"
"I CAN'T BELIEVE that he
murdered his wile," Deborah
said angrily. She was as indignant 
as if they were speaking of
an old and trusted friend. "I don't
believe a word of it," she emphasized. 

Ewan Montieth looked from
one woman to the other. Joyce
was bristling at Deborah. Assuming 
an air of dignity. That was a
prelude to throwing things. Afterwards 
she would hate herself
and be bumble for days, and no
wanted to spare her that. To
cause a diversion he walked between 
the two, mumbling an
apology, and crossed to a window. 

"I do believe it's stopped raining," 
he said, doing his best to
infuse interest into the trite remark. 

Joyce knew her husband fully
as well as he knew her. She told
him brusquely not to change the
subject.
"You don't believe "that Garvin
murdered his wife," she said
icily, to Deborah, "And what,
may I ask, do  know about
it?"
"I've met the man," said Deborah, 
equally chilly. "I've talked
to him. I can't believe—"
"He changed a flat tire, for
you. So that makes him a sterling 
character." Joyce clenched
her plump fists. "Oh, you're so
stubborn."
She turned to her Husband.
"She's always been stubborn.
Ever since she was a child."
"If she's stubborn," said Ewan,
with a sigh, "you're dogmatic."
Walking back to the fireplace,
he started to fill a blackened
briar pipe, spilling crumbs of
tobacco down his front.
"Oh, of course! Trust you to
put me in the wrong."
"My dear, if anyone is putting
you in the wrong, it's yourself.
We know that Erica Garvin was
murdered—"
"Good of you to concede that
much."
"What we don't know," said

Ewan, striking a match, "is
that Garvin did it."
"Ask anyone," snapped Joyce.
"Oh by all means said Ewan,
puffing on his pipe They'll all
tell you the same. That Garvin's
guilty." Leaning on the mantelpiece, 
he exhaled a cloud of
smoke. "But—is that proof?"
"Proof," repeated Joyce, as if
the word were nasty. "Oh, you—
you mathematician!"
"I teach" mathematics for a livng," 
said Ewan equably. "You
can Hardly expect me to agree
with you that two and two
makes six."
His tone was so amiable, his
logic so exasperating that Joyce
looked about her for something
to throw, at him.
Joyce ran to her cousin and
threw Doth arms round her.
"I'm a beast. Starting a tight
before you're properly in the
house. I ought to be given a
shaking."
"You're a darling," said Dcborah, 
hugging her, "but you
haven't changed a bit."
The Sealyham had been standing, 
with ears cocked, at the
living, room door. Now he gave
a sharp, commanding yelp and
trotted forward to look up unperatively 
at his mistress. They
heard a plaintive wailing from
upstairs.
"The baby," said Joyce. "Paddy 
always hears him first. I believe 
he thinks it's fits baby and
he only lets us look alter him.
Pressing her cheek against
Deborah's for an instant, as a
contrite and loving child might
do, she Hurried out of the room
and ran upstairs with the, little
dog at her heels.
The three cups of coffee Ewan
had poured were standing on a
side table. Deborah handed one
to him and took one for herself.
"Good," she said, after an appreciative 
sip. "But poor Joyce's
will be cold."
"She likes it that way. Which
is just as well, since it's the way
she usually gets it." Setting his
cup on the mantelpiece, Ewan
ruffled his thinning yellow Hair.
"You know, she's devoted to you,
really."
"You don't Have to explain
Joyce to me. We've been rowing
and making up since we were
old enough to snatch each
other's toys."
"You grew 'up together?"
Ewan ran a masculine eye over
her.
"I wish we had." A frown
clouded Deborah's lovely face. "I
was always so happy with Joyce
and her parents. It was the only
taste of family life I had. But
that was only for a week or two,
three or four times a year. For
the most part I was a very lonely 
little girl, always being scolded, 
living with an elderly maiden
aunt who was bound and determined 
to 'do her duty by me.'"
"Sounds grim."
"It was You see, my parents
were killed in a car accident
when I was three Most of mydatives 
were only Just making
ends meet, and this old aunt
volunteered to take me. I suppose
it was kind of her but I grew up
thinking that all sentences began
with the word 'don't. She had an
attic, with trunks full of old
clothes, where I played on rainy
lays. I used to dress up and preend 
to be different people who'd
orrie to call. Some of them were
dull and I let them drop. The
others came to call every single
ramy afternoon until they were
more real to me than real people." 

"And that's why you became
an actress?"
"It sounds so impressive ...
an actress." said Deborah, setting
town her empty cup. "The truth
is rather disillusioning. I spent
three seasons in repertory, painting 
scenery, running errands,
selling tickets, and occasionally
walking on to the stage to say,
Did you ring Madam? live had
two bits in pictures but you
could nave missed my deathless
performance in either of them
by stooping to tie your shoelace. 

"But surely, this London play
you've been in—the one that just
closed. Didn't it run for months?"
"Almost, seven." agreed Deborah. 
"And it was like Heaven
to get a weekly pay check. But
it was a thriller. And I played
the corpse. I got strangled every
evening before the curtain was
up five minutes. The only line
they gave me to speak was
'You!'"
"Well, you're young. You've
made a start."
"Young? Why. I'll be twentyfive 
next birthday."
"I apologize." said Kwan solemnly. 
"You're not young at all.
You're a broken-down old lady
with her future all behind Her."
She smiled, but responded in
a serious tone, "In the theater,
twenty-five can be old. It all depends 
on what you've accomplished." 

She took a sip of coffee and
went on. "When you're young,
very young, you think' you'll be
someone by the time you're
twenty-five. And then one day,
you wake up to the fact that
twenty-five is just around the
corner and you're no one—no one
at all."
"Perhaps round the next corner 
there's a producer with a
nice part for you."
"That dream belongs to eighteen," 
said Deborah, shaking her
head. "And there's another thing.
I've never admitted it to anyone
before but perhaps I wasn't really 
meant to be an actress. Perhaps 
I've fooled myself ..."
An Impression Garvin had
made upon her flashed across
her mind.


SYNOPSIS
By JAMES RONALD
Deborah Vail an actress unengaged
at the moment, la driving from London 
to Garnock, Scotland, to visit a
married cousin, Joyce Monteith. Near
Garnock during a stormy evening
she is stopped in a lonely stretch of
road by a flat tire. She sets out to
locate a telephone". At the only house
she sees, she is confronted by a man
who greets her angrily Can't you
go away and leave me in peace?
What do you think I am—a peep
show' I ought to welcome you with
a gun!"
The stranger whose name is An
drew Garvin; admits her unwillingly,
telling her that he has no telephone.
But when Garvin goes out to repair
her tire, she hears a telephone ring.
Locating it; Deborah picks up the
receiver. A shocking voice demands
"Get out and stay out! You're not
wanted here!" Then, during" a prying 
inspection' ot the house, she is
frightened by 'a brutish face staring
at her through a window.
Upon his return. Garvin sends her
on her way without an explanation of
these happenings. Deborah reaches
the Monteiths. At the mention of
Garvin's name, Joyce exclaims: He
murdered, his wife!"
"I CAN'T BELIEVE that he
murdered his wile," Deborah
said angrily. She was as indignant 
as if they were speaking of
an old and trusted friend. "I don't
believe a word of it," she emphasized. 

Ewan Montieth looked from
one woman to the other. Joyce
was bristling at Deborah. Assuming 
an air of dignity. That was a
prelude to throwing things. Afterwards 
she would hate herself
and be bumble for days, and no
wanted to spare her that. To
cause a diversion he walked between 
the two, mumbling an
apology, and crossed to a window. 

"I do believe it's stopped raining," 
he said, doing his best to
infuse interest into the trite remark. 

Joyce knew her husband fully
as well as he knew her. She told
him brusquely not to change the
subject.
"You don't believe "that Garvin
murdered his wife," she said
icily, to Deborah, "And what,
may I ask, do  know about
it?"
"I've met the man," said Deborah, 
equally chilly. "I've talked
to him. I can't believe—"
"He changed a flat tire, for
you. So that makes him a sterling 
character." Joyce clenched
her plump fists. "Oh, you're so
stubborn."
She turned to her Husband.
"She's always been stubborn.
Ever since she was a child."
"If she's stubborn," said Ewan,
with a sigh, "you're dogmatic."
Walking back to the fireplace,
he started to fill a blackened
briar pipe, spilling crumbs of
tobacco down his front.
"Oh, of course! Trust you to
put me in the wrong."
"My dear, if anyone is putting
you in the wrong, it's yourself.
We know that Erica Garvin was
murdered—"
"Good of you to concede that
much."
"What we don't know," said

Ewan, striking a match, "is
that Garvin did it."
"Ask anyone," snapped Joyce.
"Oh by all means said Ewan,
puffing on his pipe They'll all
tell you the same. That Garvin's
guilty." Leaning on the mantelpiece, 
he exhaled a cloud of
smoke. "But—is that proof?"
"Proof," repeated Joyce, as if
the word were nasty. "Oh, you—
you mathematician!"
"I teach" mathematics for a livng," 
said Ewan equably. "You
can Hardly expect me to agree
with you that two and two
makes six."
His tone was so amiable, his
logic so exasperating that Joyce
looked about her for something
to throw, at him.
Joyce ran to her cousin and
threw Doth arms round her.
"I'm a beast. Starting a tight
before you're properly in the
house. I ought to be given a
shaking."
"You're a darling," said Dcborah, 
hugging her, "but you
haven't changed a bit."
The Sealyham had been standing, 
with ears cocked, at the
living, room door. Now he gave
a sharp, commanding yelp and
trotted forward to look up unperatively 
at his mistress. They
heard a plaintive wailing from
upstairs.
"The baby," said Joyce. "Paddy 
always hears him first. I believe 
he thinks it's fits baby and
he only lets us look alter him.
Pressing her cheek against
Deborah's for an instant, as a
contrite and loving child might
do, she Hurried out of the room
and ran upstairs with the, little
dog at her heels.
The three cups of coffee Ewan
had poured were standing on a
side table. Deborah handed one
to him and took one for herself.
"Good," she said, after an appreciative 
sip. "But poor Joyce's
will be cold."
"She likes it that way. Which
is just as well, since it's the way
she usually gets it." Setting his
cup on the mantelpiece, Ewan
ruffled his thinning yellow Hair.
"You know, she's devoted to you,
really."
"You don't Have to explain
Joyce to me. We've been rowing
and making up since we were
old enough to snatch each
other's toys."
"You grew 'up together?"
Ewan ran a masculine eye over
her.
"I wish we had." A frown
clouded Deborah's lovely face. "I
was always so happy with Joyce
and her parents. It was the only
taste of family life I had. But
that was only for a week or two,
three or four times a year. For
the most part I was a very lonely 
little girl, always being scolded, 
living with an elderly maiden
aunt who was bound and determined 
to 'do her duty by me.'"
"Sounds grim."
"It was You see, my parents
were killed in a car accident
when I was three Most of mydatives 
were only Just making
ends meet, and this old aunt
volunteered to take me. I suppose
it was kind of her but I grew up
thinking that all sentences began
with the word 'don't. She had an
attic, with trunks full of old
clothes, where I played on rainy
lays. I used to dress up and preend 
to be different people who'd
orrie to call. Some of them were
dull and I let them drop. The
others came to call every single
ramy afternoon until they were
more real to me than real people." 

"And that's why you became
an actress?"
"It sounds so impressive ...
an actress." said Deborah, setting
town her empty cup. "The truth
is rather disillusioning. I spent
three seasons in repertory, painting 
scenery, running errands,
selling tickets, and occasionally
walking on to the stage to say,
Did you ring Madam? live had
two bits in pictures but you
could nave missed my deathless
performance in either of them
by stooping to tie your shoelace. 

"But surely, this London play
you've been in—the one that just
closed. Didn't it run for months?"
"Almost, seven." agreed Deborah. 
"And it was like Heaven
to get a weekly pay check. But
it was a thriller. And I played
the corpse. I got strangled every
evening before the curtain was
up five minutes. The only line
they gave me to speak was
'You!'"
"Well, you're young. You've
made a start."
"Young? Why. I'll be twentyfive 
next birthday."
"I apologize." said Kwan solemnly. 
"You're not young at all.
You're a broken-down old lady
with her future all behind Her."
She smiled, but responded in
a serious tone, "In the theater,
twenty-five can be old. It all depends 
on what you've accomplished." 

She took a sip of coffee and
went on. "When you're young,
very young, you think' you'll be
someone by the time you're
twenty-five. And then one day,
you wake up to the fact that
twenty-five is just around the
corner and you're no one—no one
at all."
"Perhaps round the next corner 
there's a producer with a
nice part for you."
"That dream belongs to eighteen," 
said Deborah, shaking her
head. "And there's another thing.
I've never admitted it to anyone
before but perhaps I wasn't really 
meant to be an actress. Perhaps 
I've fooled myself ..."
An Impression Garvin had
made upon her flashed across
her mind.


CHAPTER 5
By JAMES RONALD
Deborah Vail an actress unengaged
at the moment, la driving from London 
to Garnock, Scotland, to visit a
married cousin, Joyce Monteith. Near
Garnock during a stormy evening
she is stopped in a lonely stretch of
road by a flat tire. She sets out to
locate a telephone". At the only house
she sees, she is confronted by a man
who greets her angrily Can't you
go away and leave me in peace?
What do you think I am—a peep
show' I ought to welcome you with
a gun!"
The stranger whose name is An
drew Garvin; admits her unwillingly,
telling her that he has no telephone.
But when Garvin goes out to repair
her tire, she hears a telephone ring.
Locating it; Deborah picks up the
receiver. A shocking voice demands
"Get out and stay out! You're not
wanted here!" Then, during" a prying 
inspection' ot the house, she is
frightened by 'a brutish face staring
at her through a window.
Upon his return. Garvin sends her
on her way without an explanation of
these happenings. Deborah reaches
the Monteiths. At the mention of
Garvin's name, Joyce exclaims: He
murdered, his wife!"
"I CAN'T BELIEVE that he
murdered his wile," Deborah
said angrily. She was as indignant 
as if they were speaking of
an old and trusted friend. "I don't
believe a word of it," she emphasized. 

Ewan Montieth looked from
one woman to the other. Joyce
was bristling at Deborah. Assuming 
an air of dignity. That was a
prelude to throwing things. Afterwards 
she would hate herself
and be bumble for days, and no
wanted to spare her that. To
cause a diversion he walked between 
the two, mumbling an
apology, and crossed to a window. 

"I do believe it's stopped raining," 
he said, doing his best to
infuse interest into the trite remark. 

Joyce knew her husband fully
as well as he knew her. She told
him brusquely not to change the
subject.
"You don't believe "that Garvin
murdered his wife," she said
icily, to Deborah, "And what,
may I ask, do  know about
it?"
"I've met the man," said Deborah, 
equally chilly. "I've talked
to him. I can't believe—"
"He changed a flat tire, for
you. So that makes him a sterling 
character." Joyce clenched
her plump fists. "Oh, you're so
stubborn."
She turned to her Husband.
"She's always been stubborn.
Ever since she was a child."
"If she's stubborn," said Ewan,
with a sigh, "you're dogmatic."
Walking back to the fireplace,
he started to fill a blackened
briar pipe, spilling crumbs of
tobacco down his front.
"Oh, of course! Trust you to
put me in the wrong."
"My dear, if anyone is putting
you in the wrong, it's yourself.
We know that Erica Garvin was
murdered—"
"Good of you to concede that
much."
"What we don't know," said

Ewan, striking a match, "is
that Garvin did it."
"Ask anyone," snapped Joyce.
"Oh by all means said Ewan,
puffing on his pipe They'll all
tell you the same. That Garvin's
guilty." Leaning on the mantelpiece, 
he exhaled a cloud of
smoke. "But—is that proof?"
"Proof," repeated Joyce, as if
the word were nasty. "Oh, you—
you mathematician!"
"I teach" mathematics for a livng," 
said Ewan equably. "You
can Hardly expect me to agree
with you that two and two
makes six."
His tone was so amiable, his
logic so exasperating that Joyce
looked about her for something
to throw, at him.
Joyce ran to her cousin and
threw Doth arms round her.
"I'm a beast. Starting a tight
before you're properly in the
house. I ought to be given a
shaking."
"You're a darling," said Dcborah, 
hugging her, "but you
haven't changed a bit."
The Sealyham had been standing, 
with ears cocked, at the
living, room door. Now he gave
a sharp, commanding yelp and
trotted forward to look up unperatively 
at his mistress. They
heard a plaintive wailing from
upstairs.
"The baby," said Joyce. "Paddy 
always hears him first. I believe 
he thinks it's fits baby and
he only lets us look alter him.
Pressing her cheek against
Deborah's for an instant, as a
contrite and loving child might
do, she Hurried out of the room
and ran upstairs with the, little
dog at her heels.
The three cups of coffee Ewan
had poured were standing on a
side table. Deborah handed one
to him and took one for herself.
"Good," she said, after an appreciative 
sip. "But poor Joyce's
will be cold."
"She likes it that way. Which
is just as well, since it's the way
she usually gets it." Setting his
cup on the mantelpiece, Ewan
ruffled his thinning yellow Hair.
"You know, she's devoted to you,
really."
"You don't Have to explain
Joyce to me. We've been rowing
and making up since we were
old enough to snatch each
other's toys."
"You grew 'up together?"
Ewan ran a masculine eye over
her.
"I wish we had." A frown
clouded Deborah's lovely face. "I
was always so happy with Joyce
and her parents. It was the only
taste of family life I had. But
that was only for a week or two,
three or four times a year. For
the most part I was a very lonely 
little girl, always being scolded, 
living with an elderly maiden
aunt who was bound and determined 
to 'do her duty by me.'"
"Sounds grim."
"It was You see, my parents
were killed in a car accident
when I was three Most of mydatives 
were only Just making
ends meet, and this old aunt
volunteered to take me. I suppose
it was kind of her but I grew up
thinking that all sentences began
with the word 'don't. She had an
attic, with trunks full of old
clothes, where I played on rainy
lays. I used to dress up and preend 
to be different people who'd
orrie to call. Some of them were
dull and I let them drop. The
others came to call every single
ramy afternoon until they were
more real to me than real people." 

"And that's why you became
an actress?"
"It sounds so impressive ...
an actress." said Deborah, setting
town her empty cup. "The truth
is rather disillusioning. I spent
three seasons in repertory, painting 
scenery, running errands,
selling tickets, and occasionally
walking on to the stage to say,
Did you ring Madam? live had
two bits in pictures but you
could nave missed my deathless
performance in either of them
by stooping to tie your shoelace. 

"But surely, this London play
you've been in—the one that just
closed. Didn't it run for months?"
"Almost, seven." agreed Deborah. 
"And it was like Heaven
to get a weekly pay check. But
it was a thriller. And I played
the corpse. I got strangled every
evening before the curtain was
up five minutes. The only line
they gave me to speak was
'You!'"
"Well, you're young. You've
made a start."
"Young? Why. I'll be twentyfive 
next birthday."
"I apologize." said Kwan solemnly. 
"You're not young at all.
You're a broken-down old lady
with her future all behind Her."
She smiled, but responded in
a serious tone, "In the theater,
twenty-five can be old. It all depends 
on what you've accomplished." 

She took a sip of coffee and
went on. "When you're young,
very young, you think' you'll be
someone by the time you're
twenty-five. And then one day,
you wake up to the fact that
twenty-five is just around the
corner and you're no one—no one
at all."
"Perhaps round the next corner 
there's a producer with a
nice part for you."
"That dream belongs to eighteen," 
said Deborah, shaking her
head. "And there's another thing.
I've never admitted it to anyone
before but perhaps I wasn't really 
meant to be an actress. Perhaps 
I've fooled myself ..."
An Impression Garvin had
made upon her flashed across
her mind.


REVIEWING
THE NEWS
BY WILLIAM GORDON
Guides seldom overlook this story during trips through the t
United Nations building in New York:
"It was one of those days when the crowds seemed endless," 
the guide said. "Finally, when we did get our breath, a
aelderly lady at the end of the line remarked: "I have only
lone complaint about this place. There are, too many
foreigners."
Although, Americans are of foreign decent, many still complain 
about the foreign born that come to visit us. There was
a time when the mid-west was filled with strong anti-foreign
groups, and one does not have to look far to experience the
conservative tinge in the minds of many even to this day. Some
of us have been so anti-foreign that we looked with disapproval 
upon native Americans, not the Indians, who traveled from
one part of the country to the other.
The early migration of Negroes out of the South following
World War I, hit opposition in Chicago, Detroit and parts of Indiana. 
Despite the sympathy for them in their plight, many complained 
of not being able to understand their speech, their manners 
and eating-habits. In New York and California, there was
no exception.
Whether we like it or not, we may as well get used to seeing 
foreigners, whether from abroad or from remote sections of
the United States.
By the time this column appears, a former army general
and now President of the United States will have landed in
Paris for a top meeting with foreigners. The trip is not one of
pleasure, but designed to revamp the Western alliance in defense 
of Soviet achievements in both diplomacy and science. We
are a powerful country, but not so powerful as the stand alone
against the growing might of the aggressor. We need NATO,
the North Atlantic Treaty Organization. As time mounts, we'll
need other countries. We'll need India, Pakistan, Japan, the newly 
freed countries of Africa, all that we can muster to stem the
tide of aggression.
The President is wise lo fly to Paris. The world needs his
presence and prestige. We are part of that world and a very
important part at that.
The rabble-rousing elements of the isolationist philosophy,
never have and never will be sound to follow.
Our big job is forgetting our false pride, our false sense of
security, idle ways and superficial opinions of other peoples of
the world. More and more our future is being linked with their
success or failures. This is reason enough for the President to fly
to Paris.

"Too Many Foreigners"
BY WILLIAM GORDON
Guides seldom overlook this story during trips through the t
United Nations building in New York:
"It was one of those days when the crowds seemed endless," 
the guide said. "Finally, when we did get our breath, a
aelderly lady at the end of the line remarked: "I have only
lone complaint about this place. There are, too many
foreigners."
Although, Americans are of foreign decent, many still complain 
about the foreign born that come to visit us. There was
a time when the mid-west was filled with strong anti-foreign
groups, and one does not have to look far to experience the
conservative tinge in the minds of many even to this day. Some
of us have been so anti-foreign that we looked with disapproval 
upon native Americans, not the Indians, who traveled from
one part of the country to the other.
The early migration of Negroes out of the South following
World War I, hit opposition in Chicago, Detroit and parts of Indiana. 
Despite the sympathy for them in their plight, many complained 
of not being able to understand their speech, their manners 
and eating-habits. In New York and California, there was
no exception.
Whether we like it or not, we may as well get used to seeing 
foreigners, whether from abroad or from remote sections of
the United States.
By the time this column appears, a former army general
and now President of the United States will have landed in
Paris for a top meeting with foreigners. The trip is not one of
pleasure, but designed to revamp the Western alliance in defense 
of Soviet achievements in both diplomacy and science. We
are a powerful country, but not so powerful as the stand alone
against the growing might of the aggressor. We need NATO,
the North Atlantic Treaty Organization. As time mounts, we'll
need other countries. We'll need India, Pakistan, Japan, the newly 
freed countries of Africa, all that we can muster to stem the
tide of aggression.
The President is wise lo fly to Paris. The world needs his
presence and prestige. We are part of that world and a very
important part at that.
The rabble-rousing elements of the isolationist philosophy,
never have and never will be sound to follow.
Our big job is forgetting our false pride, our false sense of
security, idle ways and superficial opinions of other peoples of
the world. More and more our future is being linked with their
success or failures. This is reason enough for the President to fly
to Paris.

Prime Minister Of Sudan Visits Nigeria
The official 
heads of two African Governments 
met here December 12,
when Sayed Abdalla Khalil, Prime
Minister of The Sudan arrived in
Nigeria for an eight day visit and

was met by Alhaji Abubaker Tafawa, 
the Prime Minister, of the
Federation of Nigeria. The Sudanese
leader was accompanied by one of
his Ministers, the Minister of Social 
Affairs and three senior off
cials 
of his government.
The party from Sudan will visit
Western Eastern and Northern, Nigeria 
before their return to Khartoum. 
It is the first formal visit of
the heads of the two black nations
one of which has won its independence 
and the other which expects
freedom within the next three or
four years.

Student Given 3

but other students said she is
Minnie Jean Brown. Blossom did
not disclose the names of the male
pupils.
The girl was not immediately
available for comment.
It was the first disciplinary ac
tion 
involving the Negro students
at the school in more than three
weeks. The last suspension was
meted out to a white boy who allegedly 
was involved in ascuffle with
a Negro boy.
The Negro youth are attending
classes Since Federal troops went
to Little Rock Sept 25th.
The Federal Troops-Paratroopers
from' the famed 101st Airborne Division 
at Fort Campbell, Ky.,–was
withdrawn from Little Rock two
days before Thanksgiving.

MEMPHIS WORLD
Deadline For Classified Ad Is
Tuesday for Saturday's Edition and
Saturday for Wednesday's Edition

Want Ad Information
Call JA. 6-4030
Deadline For Classified Ad Is
Tuesday for Saturday's Edition and
Saturday for Wednesday's Edition

BYRD TRANSFER COMPANY —
Reliable handlers, Quick Service.
$3 per room Day or Night — Call
BR. 6-3020

FEMALE HELP WANTED
WOMEN SEW Easy Ready-cut wrap
a-round Aprons home. Earn $26.16
Dozen — Spare Time Write:
Accurate MFGR'S. Freeport. N. Y.

OFFICE SPACE FOR RENT
excellent location for PROFESSIONAL 
or INSURANCE office on
PARK AVENUE. For Information,
write OSFR. c/o MEMPHIS WORLD
546 Beale, Memphis 3 Tenn.

FOR SALE
Nearly Z acres on South side U. S.
Highway 64 about 1 mile west of
Eads, Tenn. . . . Near church, creek
and cemetery. 75 feet of highway
frontage. . . . 1100 deep. Only
$1,500 with down payment of $500
cash. Call FAXON-KNOX & Divine 
Realtors, 111 Porter Bldg.,
Memphis — Phone TA. 5-0157.

HOME REPAIRS
Fencing — Roofing — Siding
Kitchens, Home Improvements
FHA FINANCING
Sean Modernization Plan
Free Estimates — No Obligations
BOB ALSTON
FA. 7-7744
—or—
JIM WALLACE
WH. 8-0658

FURNISHED ROOMS
Men Only
Board, Laundry Service
Phone BR 2-3777

MY WEEKLY
SERMON
By
REV. BLAIR T. HUNT
PASTOR
MISSISSIPPI BLVD. CHRISTIAN CHURCH
Text: Read First and Second
Chapter of the Gospel according to
St. Luke.
We are starting on a journey
from our hometown to Bethlehem
of Judea. Just a few more days to
shop... Just a few more days to prepare 
for Christmas. What a leverish 
last minute preparation many
are making for this journey to
Bethlehem.
Some will not reach Bethlehem.
They will stop on the road. They
will deviate. They will never see
the baby, Jesus.
Let us prepare to see the man
ger-cradled 
babe. Let us prepare
for Christmas that we may reach
Bethlehem to behold the gates of
another world open up and hear
singing from on high.
God, Our Heavenly Father, prepared 
for Christmas: "When the
fulness of time was come, God
sent forth his son made a woman,
a virgin irreproachable."
God prepared a body for Christmas.. 
A body, human as well as devine... 
A body so human, it got
tired.. So human it got thirsty and
hungry.. So human it had to sleep.
So human it shed tears. Yes, Gcd
prepared for the world's first Christmas. 
He prepared a body for Jesus.
God prepared a nation, the Jewish 
Nation, A strategically, Geographically 
located.. A land free
from idolatry.
For the first Christmas God
prepared Mary.. "And the Angel
said unto her, fear not, Mary, for
thou hast found favor with God,
and behold thou shalt conceive in
thy womb, and bring forth a son,
and shall call his name Jesus." God
was preparing a mother for Christmas., 
Haw do we prepare for Christmas? 
What does Christmas mean?
Today the merchants are happy.
We wonder if the Angels are happy,
as they behold us preparing for
Christmas. We wonder how much

money will be sent for hard liquor.
We wonder how many brides will be
given to the guise of presents. Men
are taking Christ out of Christmas.
Have, you taken the Christ out
of Christmas and made it "X-Mas"?
If so you will never see the babe
of Bethlehem of December 25th
You know "X-Mas," emphasizing,
the "X" means, the Unknown and
Christ will be unknown to you, for
you will not arrive in Bethlehem
of Judea. And Jesus will not be
born in your heart.
Prepare for a spiritual Christmas,
then you will not "spend" Christmas. 
You will "keep Christmas."
Let us prepare to keep Christmas in
all of its ancient lovelisess keep it
in the sanctuary of our hearts.
Prepare for special p, oVc obnaA
Prepare for a spiritual Christmas,
not a paganistic commercial Xmas.
A paganistic, commercial Xmas
means "get it now while the getting 
is good." A paganistic, commercial 
Xmas means drunken brawls,
thousands of accidents, thousands
sent to the hospital scores of people
killed. Apaganistic, Commercial
Xmas meas a carnival of mirth
forthe imps of hell.
Let us prepare for a spiritual
Christmas. Let us reach Bethlehem
of Judea on December 25th and gaze
into the baby face of Jesus and
sing-forth. "Joy to the World, the
Lord has come." Let us join that
choir that sang "Peace on Earth
Good will to Men".
Let us prepare to meet God on
Christmas morning and gaze, into
the face of Jesus. Prepare now to
go to Bethlehem of Judea. "Let us
go bow even unto Bethlehem, and
see this thing which is come to
pass, which the Lord hath made
known unto us." Luke 2: 15.
Prepare for Christmas by preparing 
the heart, the mind, and the
experience, and Christmas will, take
on a new beauty and meaning you
had never known before.

PREPARING FOR CHRISTMAS
REV. BLAIR T. HUNT, PASTOR,
MISSISSIPPI BLVD. CHRISTIAN
CHURCH
By
REV. BLAIR T. HUNT
PASTOR
MISSISSIPPI BLVD. CHRISTIAN CHURCH
Text: Read First and Second
Chapter of the Gospel according to
St. Luke.
We are starting on a journey
from our hometown to Bethlehem
of Judea. Just a few more days to
shop... Just a few more days to prepare 
for Christmas. What a leverish 
last minute preparation many
are making for this journey to
Bethlehem.
Some will not reach Bethlehem.
They will stop on the road. They
will deviate. They will never see
the baby, Jesus.
Let us prepare to see the man
ger-cradled 
babe. Let us prepare
for Christmas that we may reach
Bethlehem to behold the gates of
another world open up and hear
singing from on high.
God, Our Heavenly Father, prepared 
for Christmas: "When the
fulness of time was come, God
sent forth his son made a woman,
a virgin irreproachable."
God prepared a body for Christmas.. 
A body, human as well as devine... 
A body so human, it got
tired.. So human it got thirsty and
hungry.. So human it had to sleep.
So human it shed tears. Yes, Gcd
prepared for the world's first Christmas. 
He prepared a body for Jesus.
God prepared a nation, the Jewish 
Nation, A strategically, Geographically 
located.. A land free
from idolatry.
For the first Christmas God
prepared Mary.. "And the Angel
said unto her, fear not, Mary, for
thou hast found favor with God,
and behold thou shalt conceive in
thy womb, and bring forth a son,
and shall call his name Jesus." God
was preparing a mother for Christmas., 
Haw do we prepare for Christmas? 
What does Christmas mean?
Today the merchants are happy.
We wonder if the Angels are happy,
as they behold us preparing for
Christmas. We wonder how much

money will be sent for hard liquor.
We wonder how many brides will be
given to the guise of presents. Men
are taking Christ out of Christmas.
Have, you taken the Christ out
of Christmas and made it "X-Mas"?
If so you will never see the babe
of Bethlehem of December 25th
You know "X-Mas," emphasizing,
the "X" means, the Unknown and
Christ will be unknown to you, for
you will not arrive in Bethlehem
of Judea. And Jesus will not be
born in your heart.
Prepare for a spiritual Christmas,
then you will not "spend" Christmas. 
You will "keep Christmas."
Let us prepare to keep Christmas in
all of its ancient lovelisess keep it
in the sanctuary of our hearts.
Prepare for special p, oVc obnaA
Prepare for a spiritual Christmas,
not a paganistic commercial Xmas.
A paganistic, commercial Xmas
means "get it now while the getting 
is good." A paganistic, commercial 
Xmas means drunken brawls,
thousands of accidents, thousands
sent to the hospital scores of people
killed. Apaganistic, Commercial
Xmas meas a carnival of mirth
forthe imps of hell.
Let us prepare for a spiritual
Christmas. Let us reach Bethlehem
of Judea on December 25th and gaze
into the baby face of Jesus and
sing-forth. "Joy to the World, the
Lord has come." Let us join that
choir that sang "Peace on Earth
Good will to Men".
Let us prepare to meet God on
Christmas morning and gaze, into
the face of Jesus. Prepare now to
go to Bethlehem of Judea. "Let us
go bow even unto Bethlehem, and
see this thing which is come to
pass, which the Lord hath made
known unto us." Luke 2: 15.
Prepare for Christmas by preparing 
the heart, the mind, and the
experience, and Christmas will, take
on a new beauty and meaning you
had never known before.

Feed your baby
CARNATION
America's
healthy baby" milk!
 It's the
safest, most nourishing and digestible 
form of milk for your baby's
formula. More mothers feed Carnation 
to their babies than any
other brand. And more Carnation
is used in hospital formula rooms
throughout the world than ! Readymade 
formulas that claim to be
complete cost almost twice as
much as Carnation - the 
milk for infant feeding - the milk
every doctor knows.
Carnation has  not found
in any other form of milk,
for smooth, failure-proof
results every time, use
Carnation in every recipe
that calls for milk!


Carnation
EVAPORATED
MILK
 INCREASED HOMOGENIZED


 It's the
safest, most nourishing and digestible 
form of milk for your baby's
formula. More mothers feed Carnation 
to their babies than any
other brand. And more Carnation
is used in hospital formula rooms
throughout the world than ! Readymade 
formulas that claim to be
complete cost almost twice as
much as Carnation - the 
milk for infant feeding - the milk
every doctor knows.
Carnation has  not found
in any other form of milk,
for smooth, failure-proof
results every time, use
Carnation in every recipe
that calls for milk!


Carnation
EVAPORATED
MILK
 INCREASED HOMOGENIZED

BEST BRAND FOR YOUR
COOKING, TOO!
 It's the
safest, most nourishing and digestible 
form of milk for your baby's
formula. More mothers feed Carnation 
to their babies than any
other brand. And more Carnation
is used in hospital formula rooms
throughout the world than ! Readymade 
formulas that claim to be
complete cost almost twice as
much as Carnation - the 
milk for infant feeding - the milk
every doctor knows.
Carnation has  not found
in any other form of milk,
for smooth, failure-proof
results every time, use
Carnation in every recipe
that calls for milk!


Carnation
EVAPORATED
MILK
 INCREASED HOMOGENIZED