Memphis World
Memphis World Publishing Co.
1956-01-31
Raymond F. Tisby

MEMPHIS WORLD
The South's Oldest and Leading Colored Semi-Weekly Newspaper
Published by MEMPHIS WORLD PUBLISHING CO.
Every TUESDAY and FRIDAY at 164 BEALE—Phone 8-4030
Entered in the Post Office at Memphis, Tenn., as second-class mail
under the of congress, March 1, 1870
Member of SCOTT NEWSPAPER SYNDICATE
W. A. Scott, II. Founder, C. A. Scott, General Manager
Raymond F. Tisby Managing Editor
Mrs. Rosa Brown Bracy Public Relations and Advertising
William C. Weathers Circulation Promotion
The MEMPHIS WORLD is an independent newspaper—non-sectarian
and non-partisan, printing news unbiasedly and supporting those things
it believes to the interest of its readers and opposing those things against
the interest of its readers.

Year $5.00 — 6 Months $3.00 — 3 Months $1.50 (In Advance)

"Interposition" Moves Over The Checkerboard
In Effort To Evade
From out the array of re-domesticated words such as evasion,
circumvention and nullification, we suddenly land upon the possible 
"magic" word, interposition. Here we find ourselves at the
cross-roads of those contrivances designed to needle as long as
possible in the beaten path of legalized segregation, now frazzling
at the edges of the public school level. This is a disturbing factor,
carrying with it that horror which beseiged certain circumventists
a few generations ago when met with a similar situation.
Webster would define interposition like this: "To place between 
or among; to thrust in; to intrude; to present as an obstruction, 
interruption or inconvenience."
At any rate this discussion arises from the following news
account: "Four Southern governors agreed to ask their legislatures
to protest the U. S. Supreme Court's segregation decision, but
Governor Griffin said the move was not strong enough for Georgia." 

This was at the proving grounds of the new term, interposition 
— in the old colonial state, the mother of presidents and
one of the capitals of the Confederacy.
The word was possibly relivened in Virginia, for from that
vantage point Governor Stanley decided upon what was termed
an "orderly" course of seeking some such amendment as would
re-define the relationship between the parent government and
the rights of the states. Taking the position that a test might prove
feasible to establish whether the states in joining the Union surrendered 
their school franchise.
Those who take issue with a public question decided by the
highest court in the land, seeking clarification through mediums of
law, might fully exercise that right.
In short, the interposition pact would call upon Congress "to
take such actions" within the limits of its Constitutional authority
to protect the states and their people against present and future
encroachment by the central government.
Governor Griffin informed his colleagues that "Without these
essential provisions there is no interposition:" nullification of the
Supreme Court's decisions and authorization of the governor to
use troops if necessary to present the usurpation of state power.
While this may be strong meat, nevertheless it is current history. 

In his finale as relates to Georgia, "She will not, however,
adopt a Milquetoast declaration," the governor brings in an additional 
word which we pledge to look up in the dictionary in an
effort to keep our public abreast with the moves over this "beat
the clock" checker-board designed to circumvent a decision of the
United States Supreme Court.
What the segregationists are talking about, just can't be
done! At least we don't think the Congress will entertain the
issue. The Supreme Court is Supreme!

The Job Of Being President
An article in a recent issue of The Readers' Digest challenges
the long-accepted theory that being President of the United States
is a killing job. The author of the article even challenges the fact
that the job kills, or has killed, Americans who have been President. 

The author has something. He points to the fact that Herbert
Hoover, now over 80, and Harry Truman, over 70, are both in
excellent health, while both held the reins of this country in periods 
of great crisis and acute strain.
Former President Hoover saw this country engulfed in the
worst depression it had ever experienced, and that should have
been a trying ordeal for any American who was concerned with
the welfare of the fellow citizens, and, no doubt, Herbert Hoover
was.
Former President Truman was to be on the spot continually in
his almost eight years as President, since he took over in a postwar 
period of tension with Russia which never let up in all his
years in office. That tension was climaxed by the Korean War,
which was in progress when he went out of office.
The author of the article points out that Franklin D. Roosevelt 
entered his fourth term of President as an invalid and there
fore the duties of the Presidency could not be blamed for his not
lasting out that term. He points cut that only a few Presidents
have died in office, some of them at the hands of assassins, and
a few of them as the result of tension and fatigue brought on by
the duties of the Presidency.
In the case of president Eisenhower, we have never believed
that his job was responsible for his heart attack. It will be recalled
that Mr. Eisenhower had practiced golf for some time and then
gone out and played over twenty holes of golf, in one day, and
then suffered an attack of indigestion.

NAACP Challenges Scheme
Of Four Dixie Governors
The anti-school 
integration plans formulated 
by four Dixie governors meeting 
in Richmond. Va., last week
will be resisted by the National Association 
for the Advancement of
Colored People, Roy Wilkins executive 
secretary, said recently in letters 
to each of the governors.
In their Richmond meeting, Governors 
J. P. Coleman of Mississippi
Marvin Griffin of Georgia, Thomas
B. Stanley of Virginia and George
Bell Timmerman of South Carolina
agreed to recommend to their respective 
legislatures: (1) adoption
of a resolution of interposition. (2)
a request that Congress be called
upon "to protect the states and
their people against present and
future encroachment by the Central
Government"; and (3) enactment
of laws to protect the state's "sovereignty 
and the rights of its people." 

Centering his attack upon the
states rights proposal, Mr. Wilkins
told the governors that "nothing in
the Constitution assigns to the
states the right to abridge in any
manner the constitutional civil
rights of the individual. On the
contrary the Constitution protects
these rights against encroachment
by the States."
The NAACP leader further charg
ed that in each of the four states
"the basic rights and privileges of
Negro citizens have for generations
been unconstitutionally curtailed by

actions of your respective legislatures. 
Now that the Supreme Court
has directed an end to such encroachments 
upon individual civil
rights in public education and recreation, 
you are seeking, purportedly 
in the name of the people of
your respective states, ways and
means of continuing your unconstitutional 
practices."
The suppression of the Negro vote
in Mississippi and its curtailment
in the other states were cited as
evidence of the fact that Negroes
have no voice in making the laws
of the states which you represent."
Referring, to the claim of the governors 
that they spoke in the name
of the people of their states, Mr.
Wilkins asked: "Which people?
Certainly not the disfranchised Negroes 
and apparently not all of the
white people. Your schemes for circumventing 
the Supreme court ruling 
have been decried by leading
churchmen and various denominational 
groups, by organized labor
by educators and publicists, by all
people of whatever race or faith who
realize that democracy is indivisible." 

The colored people in the Tourstates 
"want their constitutional
rights and will contend for them
with all the resources at their command," 
Mr. Wilkins declared. "In
this struggle they have the backing
of the U. S. Constitution and the
full support of the National Associ
ation 
for the Advancement of Colored 
People and of all the people
who believe that ours is a land of
equal rights and equal opportunities. 


REVIEWING
THE NEWS
By WILLIAM GORDON
Managing Editor, Atlanta Daily World
It was a pathetic and yet tragic picture. I shall never forget
that smoke-filled room. Neither shall I forget the story — the
story of men, most of them, youngsters with tragedy, misfortune
and neglect written across their faces.
For obvious reasons, I shall not name the kind of crimes
these men committed. Life has been cruel enough to them, and
there is no reason why I should impose additional judgment.
But the thought of crime always hits one, and the sight of the
aftermath seems to live with one's memory. Too many people, it
seems have been misguided, and too many youths today are allowed 
to roam without direction.
This weekend brings to a close National YMCA Week,
yet very few people realize the significance of its meaning. Many
of us simply take Christian education for granted not realizing that
if all the YMCA programs of the nation were fully supported,
there would be less smoked-filled rooms, revealing the pictures
of destitute homes, neglected youths and broken families. You
just don't get bank robbers, and killers out of a YMCA. Years
of Christian training and influence make most men immune to
crime.
I have serious doubts that if the youngster who killed a
policeman in Chicago recently had access to the Young Mens'
Christian Association. The same doubt arises when I think of
the youngster who brutally attacked his teacher and of others
who rob, steal, and even murder other fellow human beings.
This kind of temperament does not stem from the ethics of Christian 
teaching. Neither do youngsters, who share good homes
and have the proper parental guidance grow up to be detriments
to society.
Today, prisons are packed, with the mistakes of parents.
somewhere along the road of life, adults have not met their responsibilities 
of seeing that a wholesome atmosphere is created
for the youths of today. They have neglected their social institutions,
the church and the Y's. They have taken for granted that
such institutions exist on then own and not because people should
support and back them.
We shun the responsibility of supporting the YMCA, yet
in tax dollars, we support prisons, and jails throughout the nation
to house those who have conflict with society. Somewhere, it seems,
somebody is wrong in evaluating the significance of youths, and
the role young people should play in modern society. We yell
about the teen-age crimes, the ill-mannered boy across the street,
the wayward girls who have no institutions to help hide some of
their mistakes. We hardly ever, it seems, go to the parents and
subsequently to such institutions setup to help condition the
youths of today. Through neglect, we still spare the rod, and the
results; We go on hating and killing each other even against
the background of a Christian society where love should be
dominant.

The Sins Of Those Who Spare The Rod
By WILLIAM GORDON
Managing Editor, Atlanta Daily World
It was a pathetic and yet tragic picture. I shall never forget
that smoke-filled room. Neither shall I forget the story — the
story of men, most of them, youngsters with tragedy, misfortune
and neglect written across their faces.
For obvious reasons, I shall not name the kind of crimes
these men committed. Life has been cruel enough to them, and
there is no reason why I should impose additional judgment.
But the thought of crime always hits one, and the sight of the
aftermath seems to live with one's memory. Too many people, it
seems have been misguided, and too many youths today are allowed 
to roam without direction.
This weekend brings to a close National YMCA Week,
yet very few people realize the significance of its meaning. Many
of us simply take Christian education for granted not realizing that
if all the YMCA programs of the nation were fully supported,
there would be less smoked-filled rooms, revealing the pictures
of destitute homes, neglected youths and broken families. You
just don't get bank robbers, and killers out of a YMCA. Years
of Christian training and influence make most men immune to
crime.
I have serious doubts that if the youngster who killed a
policeman in Chicago recently had access to the Young Mens'
Christian Association. The same doubt arises when I think of
the youngster who brutally attacked his teacher and of others
who rob, steal, and even murder other fellow human beings.
This kind of temperament does not stem from the ethics of Christian 
teaching. Neither do youngsters, who share good homes
and have the proper parental guidance grow up to be detriments
to society.
Today, prisons are packed, with the mistakes of parents.
somewhere along the road of life, adults have not met their responsibilities 
of seeing that a wholesome atmosphere is created
for the youths of today. They have neglected their social institutions,
the church and the Y's. They have taken for granted that
such institutions exist on then own and not because people should
support and back them.
We shun the responsibility of supporting the YMCA, yet
in tax dollars, we support prisons, and jails throughout the nation
to house those who have conflict with society. Somewhere, it seems,
somebody is wrong in evaluating the significance of youths, and
the role young people should play in modern society. We yell
about the teen-age crimes, the ill-mannered boy across the street,
the wayward girls who have no institutions to help hide some of
their mistakes. We hardly ever, it seems, go to the parents and
subsequently to such institutions setup to help condition the
youths of today. Through neglect, we still spare the rod, and the
results; We go on hating and killing each other even against
the background of a Christian society where love should be
dominant.

In The Nation's Capital
Southern Governors and political
demogogues including a few members 
of Congress, are only kidding
themselves and revealing the poverty 
of southern statesmanship when
they dig up and reassert the doctrine 
of "interposition" which has
been dead anti buried for 153 years.
Protest as much as they will, the
four most determinedly segregationist 
states— Virginia, South Carolina, 
Georgia and Mississippi,
which are threatening interposition
or nullification, have no right to
assert which can keep the supreme
Court decision against segregation
in public schools from becoming
effective in their states.
In pretending that they have,
the governors and legislators in
those states are mearly deciving the
people of their states.
"Interposition" was the doctrine
advanced by James Madison in
drafting the Viginia resolutions of
1798 against the alien and sedition
laws which were passed by the Federalists 
in congress in 1798.
The Alien Act authorized the
President to banish foreigners
deemed to be dangerous, and the
Sedition Act curtailed the freedom
of the press. The two laws were
aimed chiefly at certain political
opponents of the administration of
John Adams, the second President 
of the United States, and
created a violent reaction.
The pertinent part of the Virginia 
resolution, in part, was that
"in case of a deliberate, palpable
and dangerous exercise of powers
not granted by the (Constitution),
the states have the right and
are in duty bound to interpose for
arresting the progress of the evil,
and for maintaining within their
respective limits the authorities,
rights and liberties appertaining to
them."
Under the application of this
doctrine to the Supreme Court decisions 
against segregated schools,
Virginia, South Carolina, Georgia
and Mississippi are claiming the
right to put their sovereignty between 
the people of their states and
the supreme Court and nullify the
court's ruling within their borders.
Interposition, nullification and
secession were all based upon the
theory that the federal Constitution 
was a compact of sovereign
states.
But that was not the doctrine of
the framers of the Constitution. In
their view that document was a
compact of the people of America.
They intended the government to
be one over individuals, between
whom and itself the states were to
have no right whatsoever of intervention. 

That is the view or Edward S.
Corwin, 78-year old professor
emeritus of Princeton University,
whom the Library of Congress regards 
as the authority on interposition. 

Writing in the Michigan Law Review 
(1911-12) on the subject of

"National Power and State Interposition." 
Prof. Corwin said:
" . . . the framers of the Constitution 
had no other object half
so much a heart as to be rid once
and forever of that State intervention 
which had made the Confederacy 
(under the Articles of Confederation 
and not to be confused
with the Confederate States of
America) a sham and a mockery.
"But suppose the National Goverment 
should abuse its powers.
Would not the States not have the
right to intervene to protect its citizens? 
No, for though it was recognized 
as sheer matter of fact
that the State governments might
on occasion become centers of resistance 
to the National Government, 
the only right recognized in
a case of abuse of power by the
National Government was the right
of the people of the United States
to oppose it by the same means as
those which the people of a State
would have the right to use in case
the government of that state abused 
its powers.
Such means would embrace, for
example, a resort to the right of
petition, to the ballot, and ultimately 
to the right of revolution.
"Such is plainly Madison's point
of view in The Federalist, and the
same point of view is again revealed
by the Virginia ratifying convention
. . . . by adopting the following oftquoted 
and as often misinterpreted
declaration: We, the delegates of
the people of Virginia . . . do in
the name and in behalf of the
people of Virginia declare and
make known that the powers
granted under the Constitution being 
derived from the people of the
United States may be resumed by
Them whensoever the same shall
Be preverted to their injury or
Oppression.
"To cite this declaration as assertion 
of the right of secession or
indeed of any kind of State intervention 
is absurd. It is a plain
statement of the current doctrine
of revolution, which right in this
particular case is conceived as belonging 
to the people of the United
States.

Boone Dies In
Chair Stating
His Innocence
Henry 
Lee Boone died in South Carolina's 
electric chair last week, protesting 
his innocence to the end
and declaring that "some other man
is letting me go for a crime I ain't
guilty of."
Boone 32 was electrocuted for
the bludgeon murder of Mrs. Agnes
Webb in August, 1954 Mrs. Webb's
husband and 14-year-old son were
witnesses at the execution.
The son, Johnny Webb, told reporters 
that the sight of Boone going 
to his death "didn't bother me
—I didn't mind it at all."
His father, Grover C. Webb, said:
"He (Boone) got just what was
coming to him."

Strange Facts About Polio
THERON J. FORTENBERRY TEXAS CHEMICAL
ENGINEER WAS STRICKEN IN JULY 1954
TREATED FOR A YEAR AT THE MARCH OF DIMES
RESPIRATOR CENTER AT HOUSTON, HE NOW
HAS RETURNED HOME TO HIS WIFE AND
TWO CHILDREN.
PATIENT: J.L 
NEDERLAND JEKAS
AND MARCH OF DIMES
HELP IS CONTINUING TODAY
TOMMY WOODWARD, 5,
THE 1956 MARCH OF DIMES
POSTER BOY WAS STRICKEN
AT 14 MONTHS.JUST AS
HE WAS LEARNING TO
WALK. HE'LL NEED
CARE FOR YEARS.
THERE HAS BEEN
MORE POLIO IN
THE LAST 8 YEARS
THAN IN THE 30
YEARS BEFORE
IN 1944 12% OF ALL
POLIO VICTIMS
WERE ADULTS
NOW IT'S 25%
POLIO VICTIMS
NEEDING MARCH
OF DIMES HELP AS
1956 BEGINS:

DURING
THE 1955
POLIO EPIDEMIC
IN MASSACHUSETTS, MARCH OF DIMES
RUSHED IN 204 IRON LUNGS FROM
ALL PARTS OF THE COUNTRY.




$13,22515 FOR ONE
POLIO PATIENT
FOR ONE YEAR
THERON J. FORTENBERRY TEXAS CHEMICAL
ENGINEER WAS STRICKEN IN JULY 1954
TREATED FOR A YEAR AT THE MARCH OF DIMES
RESPIRATOR CENTER AT HOUSTON, HE NOW
HAS RETURNED HOME TO HIS WIFE AND
TWO CHILDREN.
PATIENT: J.L 
NEDERLAND JEKAS
AND MARCH OF DIMES
HELP IS CONTINUING TODAY
TOMMY WOODWARD, 5,
THE 1956 MARCH OF DIMES
POSTER BOY WAS STRICKEN
AT 14 MONTHS.JUST AS
HE WAS LEARNING TO
WALK. HE'LL NEED
CARE FOR YEARS.
THERE HAS BEEN
MORE POLIO IN
THE LAST 8 YEARS
THAN IN THE 30
YEARS BEFORE
IN 1944 12% OF ALL
POLIO VICTIMS
WERE ADULTS
NOW IT'S 25%
POLIO VICTIMS
NEEDING MARCH
OF DIMES HELP AS
1956 BEGINS:

DURING
THE 1955
POLIO EPIDEMIC
IN MASSACHUSETTS, MARCH OF DIMES
RUSHED IN 204 IRON LUNGS FROM
ALL PARTS OF THE COUNTRY.




Letters to the Editor
Mr. Raymond Tisby
Editor The Memphis World
164 Beale Avenue
Memphis 3 Tennessee
Dear Mr. Tisby.
This comes to express thanks for
the publicity your newspaper gave
to my recent appointment as executive 
secretary of Abe Scharff YMCA
Mr. W. C. (Bill) Weathers, circulation 
manager for the Memphis
World, and I have had occasion to
work closely as board members at
the "Y" and even longer in a number 
of other organizations designed
to promote community progress. It
is gratifying to have his continued
interest as a board member as I
assume responsibility for administrative 
direction of the "Y" program. 
It will be equally reassuring
to know that I have the full support
of your great newspaper, which
among the three now in operation,
had the distinction of having actually 
participated in the formation
of the YMCA program among our
people.
I could not close without adding
Another word of commendation to
You Mr. Mose Newsum, and your
associates in founding a local press
club Such is not only needed here
but should serve to stimulate a
higher standard of interpretative
journalism at a time when it is
needed most at this "Crossroad" in
the field of human relations.
Cordially yours,
LEWIS O. SWINGLER
2854 Bronx Park East
Bronx 67, New York
January, 1956.
Dear Friend,
I am Rebecca Mindel, wife of
Jacob Mindel who is now serving a
Two year prison sentence under the
Smith Act, since January 1955.
It is the dawn of a new year and
My husband, a Marxist scholar, 74
years old, and ill with heart disease
and complicated chronic stomach
disease, fairs another year behind
prison bars. Not having been charged 
with any over act, he is imprisoned 
for his ideas of peace and amity 
among all nations.
In September 1955, after one-third
of his sentence was served, he was
denied parole Neither age nor illness 
moved the Parole Board. Indeed, 
no Smith Act prisoner has
been granted parole.
This past year held out great
Hopes for mankind of peace on
Earth and good will toward men.
But to my husband and me, the
Christmas season has brought new
cruelty which shocks the souls of
all men of good will.
The Social Security Administration 
has terminated old age insurance 
payments to us, leaving us
with nothing. They do this after
having accepted my husband's contributions 
since the inception of Social 
Security in 1936. I am 70 years
of age and my husband's checks
were my only means of support.
Now the greatest killer of all to
a man with heart disease — anxiety
and worry — has struck. I fear that
great anxiety and constant worry
over my situation, with no means of
livelihooh, will spell the end of my
husband.
Today the entire Smith Act is
being reviewed in the courts and by
public opinion. I fervently hope that
all decent and humane people will
support the petition to President
Eisenhower of 46 outstanding Americans 
for amnesty for all Smith Act
prisoners. Among the signers were
Mrs. Eleanor Roosevelt. Mr. Norman 
Thomas and Professor Henry
Steele Commager. They called the
attention of the President to the
"noticeable trend to reaffirm the
basic democratic traditions of our
country" and to the several elderly
and sick among the Smith Act prisoners. 

I ask all within reach of my voice
— what does it avail our great nation 
to keep a man, 74 and ill, in
prison for his ideas? How does taking 
away a pension, rightfully theirs
from an aged and sick couple, appear 
to the American people and

the people of the world? I know in
my heart you will agree with me
that it can bring only shame and
disgrace to our nation's good name
and honor.
Please write to President Eisenhower. 
The White House, Washington, 
D. C., urging him to rescind
the tyrannical act of the Social Security 
Board and to grant immediate 
amnesty to my husband. I
would deeply appreciate a copy of

your letter to the President.
Sincerely,
MRS. J. MINDEL.
P. S. — Today's mail even brings
the astounding demand from the
Social Security Board that I pay
them back $939.90.

Thanks Say Swingler
Mr. Raymond Tisby
Editor The Memphis World
164 Beale Avenue
Memphis 3 Tennessee
Dear Mr. Tisby.
This comes to express thanks for
the publicity your newspaper gave
to my recent appointment as executive 
secretary of Abe Scharff YMCA
Mr. W. C. (Bill) Weathers, circulation 
manager for the Memphis
World, and I have had occasion to
work closely as board members at
the "Y" and even longer in a number 
of other organizations designed
to promote community progress. It
is gratifying to have his continued
interest as a board member as I
assume responsibility for administrative 
direction of the "Y" program. 
It will be equally reassuring
to know that I have the full support
of your great newspaper, which
among the three now in operation,
had the distinction of having actually 
participated in the formation
of the YMCA program among our
people.
I could not close without adding
Another word of commendation to
You Mr. Mose Newsum, and your
associates in founding a local press
club Such is not only needed here
but should serve to stimulate a
higher standard of interpretative
journalism at a time when it is
needed most at this "Crossroad" in
the field of human relations.
Cordially yours,
LEWIS O. SWINGLER
2854 Bronx Park East
Bronx 67, New York
January, 1956.
Dear Friend,
I am Rebecca Mindel, wife of
Jacob Mindel who is now serving a
Two year prison sentence under the
Smith Act, since January 1955.
It is the dawn of a new year and
My husband, a Marxist scholar, 74
years old, and ill with heart disease
and complicated chronic stomach
disease, fairs another year behind
prison bars. Not having been charged 
with any over act, he is imprisoned 
for his ideas of peace and amity 
among all nations.
In September 1955, after one-third
of his sentence was served, he was
denied parole Neither age nor illness 
moved the Parole Board. Indeed, 
no Smith Act prisoner has
been granted parole.
This past year held out great
Hopes for mankind of peace on
Earth and good will toward men.
But to my husband and me, the
Christmas season has brought new
cruelty which shocks the souls of
all men of good will.
The Social Security Administration 
has terminated old age insurance 
payments to us, leaving us
with nothing. They do this after
having accepted my husband's contributions 
since the inception of Social 
Security in 1936. I am 70 years
of age and my husband's checks
were my only means of support.
Now the greatest killer of all to
a man with heart disease — anxiety
and worry — has struck. I fear that
great anxiety and constant worry
over my situation, with no means of
livelihooh, will spell the end of my
husband.
Today the entire Smith Act is
being reviewed in the courts and by
public opinion. I fervently hope that
all decent and humane people will
support the petition to President
Eisenhower of 46 outstanding Americans 
for amnesty for all Smith Act
prisoners. Among the signers were
Mrs. Eleanor Roosevelt. Mr. Norman 
Thomas and Professor Henry
Steele Commager. They called the
attention of the President to the
"noticeable trend to reaffirm the
basic democratic traditions of our
country" and to the several elderly
and sick among the Smith Act prisoners. 

I ask all within reach of my voice
— what does it avail our great nation 
to keep a man, 74 and ill, in
prison for his ideas? How does taking 
away a pension, rightfully theirs
from an aged and sick couple, appear 
to the American people and

the people of the world? I know in
my heart you will agree with me
that it can bring only shame and
disgrace to our nation's good name
and honor.
Please write to President Eisenhower. 
The White House, Washington, 
D. C., urging him to rescind
the tyrannical act of the Social Security 
Board and to grant immediate 
amnesty to my husband. I
would deeply appreciate a copy of

your letter to the President.
Sincerely,
MRS. J. MINDEL.
P. S. — Today's mail even brings
the astounding demand from the
Social Security Board that I pay
them back $939.90.

CITES PLIGHT OF
IMPRISONED MATE
Mr. Raymond Tisby
Editor The Memphis World
164 Beale Avenue
Memphis 3 Tennessee
Dear Mr. Tisby.
This comes to express thanks for
the publicity your newspaper gave
to my recent appointment as executive 
secretary of Abe Scharff YMCA
Mr. W. C. (Bill) Weathers, circulation 
manager for the Memphis
World, and I have had occasion to
work closely as board members at
the "Y" and even longer in a number 
of other organizations designed
to promote community progress. It
is gratifying to have his continued
interest as a board member as I
assume responsibility for administrative 
direction of the "Y" program. 
It will be equally reassuring
to know that I have the full support
of your great newspaper, which
among the three now in operation,
had the distinction of having actually 
participated in the formation
of the YMCA program among our
people.
I could not close without adding
Another word of commendation to
You Mr. Mose Newsum, and your
associates in founding a local press
club Such is not only needed here
but should serve to stimulate a
higher standard of interpretative
journalism at a time when it is
needed most at this "Crossroad" in
the field of human relations.
Cordially yours,
LEWIS O. SWINGLER
2854 Bronx Park East
Bronx 67, New York
January, 1956.
Dear Friend,
I am Rebecca Mindel, wife of
Jacob Mindel who is now serving a
Two year prison sentence under the
Smith Act, since January 1955.
It is the dawn of a new year and
My husband, a Marxist scholar, 74
years old, and ill with heart disease
and complicated chronic stomach
disease, fairs another year behind
prison bars. Not having been charged 
with any over act, he is imprisoned 
for his ideas of peace and amity 
among all nations.
In September 1955, after one-third
of his sentence was served, he was
denied parole Neither age nor illness 
moved the Parole Board. Indeed, 
no Smith Act prisoner has
been granted parole.
This past year held out great
Hopes for mankind of peace on
Earth and good will toward men.
But to my husband and me, the
Christmas season has brought new
cruelty which shocks the souls of
all men of good will.
The Social Security Administration 
has terminated old age insurance 
payments to us, leaving us
with nothing. They do this after
having accepted my husband's contributions 
since the inception of Social 
Security in 1936. I am 70 years
of age and my husband's checks
were my only means of support.
Now the greatest killer of all to
a man with heart disease — anxiety
and worry — has struck. I fear that
great anxiety and constant worry
over my situation, with no means of
livelihooh, will spell the end of my
husband.
Today the entire Smith Act is
being reviewed in the courts and by
public opinion. I fervently hope that
all decent and humane people will
support the petition to President
Eisenhower of 46 outstanding Americans 
for amnesty for all Smith Act
prisoners. Among the signers were
Mrs. Eleanor Roosevelt. Mr. Norman 
Thomas and Professor Henry
Steele Commager. They called the
attention of the President to the
"noticeable trend to reaffirm the
basic democratic traditions of our
country" and to the several elderly
and sick among the Smith Act prisoners. 

I ask all within reach of my voice
— what does it avail our great nation 
to keep a man, 74 and ill, in
prison for his ideas? How does taking 
away a pension, rightfully theirs
from an aged and sick couple, appear 
to the American people and

the people of the world? I know in
my heart you will agree with me
that it can bring only shame and
disgrace to our nation's good name
and honor.
Please write to President Eisenhower. 
The White House, Washington, 
D. C., urging him to rescind
the tyrannical act of the Social Security 
Board and to grant immediate 
amnesty to my husband. I
would deeply appreciate a copy of

your letter to the President.
Sincerely,
MRS. J. MINDEL.
P. S. — Today's mail even brings
the astounding demand from the
Social Security Board that I pay
them back $939.90.

MARRIAGE for THREE
Business reverses had forced Adam
Laird to sell the home which he had
built in Kennerly, Missouri, for Ann
his bride. Unhappy in the small apartment 
to which the Lairds had moved.
Ann found solace in volunteer work at
the local hospital. Here she met Dr.
Alexander, a not-too-happily married
man of great charm, with whom she
could very easily fall in love. Adam
too had found new diversion in the
dark, dynamic person o[ Linda VanSant, 
a nurse on the hospital staff. The
Lairds marital relations became badly
strained until they found, a new interest 
in building a new home together. 
But Linda VanSant soon dispelled 
their hope of peace in that small
haven. Ann in quiet rage, watched
helplessly as Linda pursued her husband 
scheming for his time and attention. 

LINDA got the samples of materials 
for the new house, and their
plans went on. The greenish teabox 
paper for the big living room,
with a definitely Chinese print for
the hall. And the downstairs bedroom. 

Adam wondered about that. A
printed wall paper on the ceiling,
plain brown walls, with window
draperies and bedspreads of the
print in cotton poplin. "You'd have
to have modern furniture!" Linda
told him. "The bleached kind, pale
ivory."
Adam and Ann's bedroom had
cherry furniture, good replicas of
early American.
"With a double bed!" said Ann
jutting her round soft chin.
Adam and Linda laughed at her,
as older people laugh at a child's
inadvertent humor.
"Put your old-fashioned stuff up
in the guest bedroom," Linda advised. 
"What with a white bath up
there . ." That white bath had
been a subject of some conflict;
Ann wanted it, Linda laughed at
it. "It might be amusing to fix
a period guest room in such an
ultra-modern house."
"Ha, ha!" said Ann in a hollow
tone, walking away from the other
two. This was one of the few
times that she'd agreed to go to
the lake with Adam and Linda,
and she wished she had stayed at
home. She might be old-fashioned
—she was! She'd use her oldfashioned 
furniture, too. As far as
she was concerned, Linda's bedroom 
would be the guest room of
that house! Ann didn't want to
sleep under modernistic flowers
splashed upon the ceiling!
Since Ann continued to call the
downstairs bedroom "Linda's
room," Adam could scarcely be
blamed for thinking of it in that
manner. It was only a short step,
then, to thinking of the whole
house as Linda's; so many of her
ideas had gone into it, and were
evident in any glance about.
It was a still shorter step to
imagine that it was her house and
Adam's! How pleasant such a
joint ownership might be!
This was as far as Adam would
go. He had married Ann, and that
was that! A man's thoughts and
imaginings—Well, sometimes they
got out of control, but when it
came to putting those notions into
action—
He was seeing a lot of Linda,
and thinking almost constantly
about her, in ever more intimate
and specific detail. He frequently
had to pull himself up short about
those details!
Especially after what happened
the night when the picnic place
opened for use. The hospital association 
made an affair of the
opening. The old men were brought
out, and supper was cooked for
them. Dr. Alexander made a hilarious 
speech. It was lots of fun.
But, of course, it had taken work
to get ready for such an occasion,
and it took some more to clear up
after it.
The patients were taken back
to the hospital. Dr. Alexander collected 
his wife and the dishes and
things she'd brought; doing this,
he surprised Ann in a widemouthed 
yawn; he suggested that
she drive back into town with them
and let them drop her off at her
home.
Adam had the hospital dishes
and equipment already loaded into
the pick-up. Van Sant could go
back with him and that way they'd
all get to bed before midnight.
It was a sensible plan, but for
one reason and another Adam
didn't get away from the lakeside
as quickly as one might expect.
The fire must be doused, and a
last check made. Certainly the
project must start with an example
of tidiness.
Flashlight in hand, he went out
on the short pier, back among the
tables. Linda leaned against a
tree, waiting for him, and looking
at the moon.
"Put out the light," she said
softly, "and look at it, Adam. The
lacy way those branches are
against it . . ."
He extinguished the big bull'seye, 
and stood close beside her to
secure the effect she mentioned.
With scarcely a movement one
could detect, Linda was leaning
against Adam instead of the tree.
In a gesture that was almost a reflex, 
Adam's arm went around her
shoulder, and Linda turned to look
at him. His head went down, hers
went up and back, and they kissed.
After the picnic project was finished, 
there was no excuse for
Adam to see Linda, unless she
made one. Which she did.
On one rainy evening, Linda's
car pulled up even with Adam's
truck on Fillmore, and Linda's
voice called a gay, "Hi!" at the
man who sat with his elbow
crooked upon the window edge.
He waved and grinned, and
would have drive on.
"Adam!" she called. "Wait!"
He pulled to the curb, got out
and leaned into the convertible
which she had stopped behind him.
He didn't get in, rain or no rain.
She appreciated his caution. "A
young and handsome man," she
drawled, "can't be too careful."
That's right, Neither can the
Supe of a hospital run by six hundred 
railroad workers, half of them
living there on Fillmore avenue."
Perhaps she spoke on the spur
of the moment. "That's what
wanted to tell you," she said urgently. 
"I'm resigning from the
hospital."
"Huh?"
She gave him a long, smoldering
look. "You're not surprised?"
"Sure I'm surprised. Why're you
doing it?"
She smiled a little, patiently
"The other night—remember? Out
at the lake? I decided I couldn't

possibly go on, the way things are
here. And if I couldn't go on, I'd
better leave."
Adam was no fool. He knew that
this was an attempt to force the
issue. Before marrying Ann, he'd
had girls try that tactic With
Linda—he stood chewing his lip,
rubbing his big hand along the
edge of the car window, thinking
hard. He was tempted. But, gee
whiz— To break with Ann, to get
into all that such a break would
mean—a divorce, and all the legal
mess, the heartaches— Just because 
he'd worked up a fever over
a woman with green eyes.
He looked up. "What would you
do?" he asked politely. "If you
left Kennerly?"
Cynicism was no part of Adam
Laird, and yet— he thought, watching
the way Linda recovered from
that, or rather the way she did
not need to recover.
"I only went so far as saying
I might leave the hospital," she
told him gayly.
She'd said . . . Well, that would
do. He waited.
"Nursing is my career, of
course," she was explaining in
reasoning way. "But if I'm ever
going to make a break, it should
be just about now."
She was watching him, and he
hoped his face showed nothing, A
man didn't imagine a certain woman 
in his arms as often as he'd
imagined Linda, and then feel
nothing at her decision—or his.
"Oh," he said, as brightly as any
idiot, "you've decided to quit work
and marry Bell!"
He was glad that, what with the
trees and the rain, the light was
too poor for her really to see his
face. He straightened so that he
no longer leaned into the car—
and was glad that he had never
once said a word to Linda about
her appeal to him, her attraction.
"Yes, she said thoughtfully, "I
would marry Theodore—if—
well—" She glanced at him, her
green eyes bright.
It was the time, the chance, to
put in his claim but he didn't.
Adam took off his hat, and put
it on again. "Bell would be awfully 
good to you," he said quietly.
Now Linda let herself show
something of what she was feeling. 
Her lips thinned, and her
hands pounded the wheel rimlightly. 
"Yes," she agreed, "he
be very good to me. He might even
—Adam, would you sell us that
house you're building on Crescent?" 

He almost laughed aloud. It had
always been "Linda's house," any
way — He'd jump at the chance
to sell it!
"You think Bell would be in a
mind to buy such a house?" he
asked, careful not to sound eager.
Linda's smile was dazzling it
didn't show a thing. "He'll be in
the mind," she drawled, Silkily,
meaningly.
"I guess he would at that," said
Adam briskly. "Though he does
have the reputation of being tight
with his money." Let Bell buy the
house, he was thinking. Then all
the people in these houses on Fillmore 
would know why he talked
so long one evening with Miss Van
Sant.
()

SYNOPSIS
Business reverses had forced Adam
Laird to sell the home which he had
built in Kennerly, Missouri, for Ann
his bride. Unhappy in the small apartment 
to which the Lairds had moved.
Ann found solace in volunteer work at
the local hospital. Here she met Dr.
Alexander, a not-too-happily married
man of great charm, with whom she
could very easily fall in love. Adam
too had found new diversion in the
dark, dynamic person o[ Linda VanSant, 
a nurse on the hospital staff. The
Lairds marital relations became badly
strained until they found, a new interest 
in building a new home together. 
But Linda VanSant soon dispelled 
their hope of peace in that small
haven. Ann in quiet rage, watched
helplessly as Linda pursued her husband 
scheming for his time and attention. 

LINDA got the samples of materials 
for the new house, and their
plans went on. The greenish teabox 
paper for the big living room,
with a definitely Chinese print for
the hall. And the downstairs bedroom. 

Adam wondered about that. A
printed wall paper on the ceiling,
plain brown walls, with window
draperies and bedspreads of the
print in cotton poplin. "You'd have
to have modern furniture!" Linda
told him. "The bleached kind, pale
ivory."
Adam and Ann's bedroom had
cherry furniture, good replicas of
early American.
"With a double bed!" said Ann
jutting her round soft chin.
Adam and Linda laughed at her,
as older people laugh at a child's
inadvertent humor.
"Put your old-fashioned stuff up
in the guest bedroom," Linda advised. 
"What with a white bath up
there . ." That white bath had
been a subject of some conflict;
Ann wanted it, Linda laughed at
it. "It might be amusing to fix
a period guest room in such an
ultra-modern house."
"Ha, ha!" said Ann in a hollow
tone, walking away from the other
two. This was one of the few
times that she'd agreed to go to
the lake with Adam and Linda,
and she wished she had stayed at
home. She might be old-fashioned
—she was! She'd use her oldfashioned 
furniture, too. As far as
she was concerned, Linda's bedroom 
would be the guest room of
that house! Ann didn't want to
sleep under modernistic flowers
splashed upon the ceiling!
Since Ann continued to call the
downstairs bedroom "Linda's
room," Adam could scarcely be
blamed for thinking of it in that
manner. It was only a short step,
then, to thinking of the whole
house as Linda's; so many of her
ideas had gone into it, and were
evident in any glance about.
It was a still shorter step to
imagine that it was her house and
Adam's! How pleasant such a
joint ownership might be!
This was as far as Adam would
go. He had married Ann, and that
was that! A man's thoughts and
imaginings—Well, sometimes they
got out of control, but when it
came to putting those notions into
action—
He was seeing a lot of Linda,
and thinking almost constantly
about her, in ever more intimate
and specific detail. He frequently
had to pull himself up short about
those details!
Especially after what happened
the night when the picnic place
opened for use. The hospital association 
made an affair of the
opening. The old men were brought
out, and supper was cooked for
them. Dr. Alexander made a hilarious 
speech. It was lots of fun.
But, of course, it had taken work
to get ready for such an occasion,
and it took some more to clear up
after it.
The patients were taken back
to the hospital. Dr. Alexander collected 
his wife and the dishes and
things she'd brought; doing this,
he surprised Ann in a widemouthed 
yawn; he suggested that
she drive back into town with them
and let them drop her off at her
home.
Adam had the hospital dishes
and equipment already loaded into
the pick-up. Van Sant could go
back with him and that way they'd
all get to bed before midnight.
It was a sensible plan, but for
one reason and another Adam
didn't get away from the lakeside
as quickly as one might expect.
The fire must be doused, and a
last check made. Certainly the
project must start with an example
of tidiness.
Flashlight in hand, he went out
on the short pier, back among the
tables. Linda leaned against a
tree, waiting for him, and looking
at the moon.
"Put out the light," she said
softly, "and look at it, Adam. The
lacy way those branches are
against it . . ."
He extinguished the big bull'seye, 
and stood close beside her to
secure the effect she mentioned.
With scarcely a movement one
could detect, Linda was leaning
against Adam instead of the tree.
In a gesture that was almost a reflex, 
Adam's arm went around her
shoulder, and Linda turned to look
at him. His head went down, hers
went up and back, and they kissed.
After the picnic project was finished, 
there was no excuse for
Adam to see Linda, unless she
made one. Which she did.
On one rainy evening, Linda's
car pulled up even with Adam's
truck on Fillmore, and Linda's
voice called a gay, "Hi!" at the
man who sat with his elbow
crooked upon the window edge.
He waved and grinned, and
would have drive on.
"Adam!" she called. "Wait!"
He pulled to the curb, got out
and leaned into the convertible
which she had stopped behind him.
He didn't get in, rain or no rain.
She appreciated his caution. "A
young and handsome man," she
drawled, "can't be too careful."
That's right, Neither can the
Supe of a hospital run by six hundred 
railroad workers, half of them
living there on Fillmore avenue."
Perhaps she spoke on the spur
of the moment. "That's what
wanted to tell you," she said urgently. 
"I'm resigning from the
hospital."
"Huh?"
She gave him a long, smoldering
look. "You're not surprised?"
"Sure I'm surprised. Why're you
doing it?"
She smiled a little, patiently
"The other night—remember? Out
at the lake? I decided I couldn't

possibly go on, the way things are
here. And if I couldn't go on, I'd
better leave."
Adam was no fool. He knew that
this was an attempt to force the
issue. Before marrying Ann, he'd
had girls try that tactic With
Linda—he stood chewing his lip,
rubbing his big hand along the
edge of the car window, thinking
hard. He was tempted. But, gee
whiz— To break with Ann, to get
into all that such a break would
mean—a divorce, and all the legal
mess, the heartaches— Just because 
he'd worked up a fever over
a woman with green eyes.
He looked up. "What would you
do?" he asked politely. "If you
left Kennerly?"
Cynicism was no part of Adam
Laird, and yet— he thought, watching
the way Linda recovered from
that, or rather the way she did
not need to recover.
"I only went so far as saying
I might leave the hospital," she
told him gayly.
She'd said . . . Well, that would
do. He waited.
"Nursing is my career, of
course," she was explaining in
reasoning way. "But if I'm ever
going to make a break, it should
be just about now."
She was watching him, and he
hoped his face showed nothing, A
man didn't imagine a certain woman 
in his arms as often as he'd
imagined Linda, and then feel
nothing at her decision—or his.
"Oh," he said, as brightly as any
idiot, "you've decided to quit work
and marry Bell!"
He was glad that, what with the
trees and the rain, the light was
too poor for her really to see his
face. He straightened so that he
no longer leaned into the car—
and was glad that he had never
once said a word to Linda about
her appeal to him, her attraction.
"Yes, she said thoughtfully, "I
would marry Theodore—if—
well—" She glanced at him, her
green eyes bright.
It was the time, the chance, to
put in his claim but he didn't.
Adam took off his hat, and put
it on again. "Bell would be awfully 
good to you," he said quietly.
Now Linda let herself show
something of what she was feeling. 
Her lips thinned, and her
hands pounded the wheel rimlightly. 
"Yes," she agreed, "he
be very good to me. He might even
—Adam, would you sell us that
house you're building on Crescent?" 

He almost laughed aloud. It had
always been "Linda's house," any
way — He'd jump at the chance
to sell it!
"You think Bell would be in a
mind to buy such a house?" he
asked, careful not to sound eager.
Linda's smile was dazzling it
didn't show a thing. "He'll be in
the mind," she drawled, Silkily,
meaningly.
"I guess he would at that," said
Adam briskly. "Though he does
have the reputation of being tight
with his money." Let Bell buy the
house, he was thinking. Then all
the people in these houses on Fillmore 
would know why he talked
so long one evening with Miss Van
Sant.
()

CHAPTER NINE
Business reverses had forced Adam
Laird to sell the home which he had
built in Kennerly, Missouri, for Ann
his bride. Unhappy in the small apartment 
to which the Lairds had moved.
Ann found solace in volunteer work at
the local hospital. Here she met Dr.
Alexander, a not-too-happily married
man of great charm, with whom she
could very easily fall in love. Adam
too had found new diversion in the
dark, dynamic person o[ Linda VanSant, 
a nurse on the hospital staff. The
Lairds marital relations became badly
strained until they found, a new interest 
in building a new home together. 
But Linda VanSant soon dispelled 
their hope of peace in that small
haven. Ann in quiet rage, watched
helplessly as Linda pursued her husband 
scheming for his time and attention. 

LINDA got the samples of materials 
for the new house, and their
plans went on. The greenish teabox 
paper for the big living room,
with a definitely Chinese print for
the hall. And the downstairs bedroom. 

Adam wondered about that. A
printed wall paper on the ceiling,
plain brown walls, with window
draperies and bedspreads of the
print in cotton poplin. "You'd have
to have modern furniture!" Linda
told him. "The bleached kind, pale
ivory."
Adam and Ann's bedroom had
cherry furniture, good replicas of
early American.
"With a double bed!" said Ann
jutting her round soft chin.
Adam and Linda laughed at her,
as older people laugh at a child's
inadvertent humor.
"Put your old-fashioned stuff up
in the guest bedroom," Linda advised. 
"What with a white bath up
there . ." That white bath had
been a subject of some conflict;
Ann wanted it, Linda laughed at
it. "It might be amusing to fix
a period guest room in such an
ultra-modern house."
"Ha, ha!" said Ann in a hollow
tone, walking away from the other
two. This was one of the few
times that she'd agreed to go to
the lake with Adam and Linda,
and she wished she had stayed at
home. She might be old-fashioned
—she was! She'd use her oldfashioned 
furniture, too. As far as
she was concerned, Linda's bedroom 
would be the guest room of
that house! Ann didn't want to
sleep under modernistic flowers
splashed upon the ceiling!
Since Ann continued to call the
downstairs bedroom "Linda's
room," Adam could scarcely be
blamed for thinking of it in that
manner. It was only a short step,
then, to thinking of the whole
house as Linda's; so many of her
ideas had gone into it, and were
evident in any glance about.
It was a still shorter step to
imagine that it was her house and
Adam's! How pleasant such a
joint ownership might be!
This was as far as Adam would
go. He had married Ann, and that
was that! A man's thoughts and
imaginings—Well, sometimes they
got out of control, but when it
came to putting those notions into
action—
He was seeing a lot of Linda,
and thinking almost constantly
about her, in ever more intimate
and specific detail. He frequently
had to pull himself up short about
those details!
Especially after what happened
the night when the picnic place
opened for use. The hospital association 
made an affair of the
opening. The old men were brought
out, and supper was cooked for
them. Dr. Alexander made a hilarious 
speech. It was lots of fun.
But, of course, it had taken work
to get ready for such an occasion,
and it took some more to clear up
after it.
The patients were taken back
to the hospital. Dr. Alexander collected 
his wife and the dishes and
things she'd brought; doing this,
he surprised Ann in a widemouthed 
yawn; he suggested that
she drive back into town with them
and let them drop her off at her
home.
Adam had the hospital dishes
and equipment already loaded into
the pick-up. Van Sant could go
back with him and that way they'd
all get to bed before midnight.
It was a sensible plan, but for
one reason and another Adam
didn't get away from the lakeside
as quickly as one might expect.
The fire must be doused, and a
last check made. Certainly the
project must start with an example
of tidiness.
Flashlight in hand, he went out
on the short pier, back among the
tables. Linda leaned against a
tree, waiting for him, and looking
at the moon.
"Put out the light," she said
softly, "and look at it, Adam. The
lacy way those branches are
against it . . ."
He extinguished the big bull'seye, 
and stood close beside her to
secure the effect she mentioned.
With scarcely a movement one
could detect, Linda was leaning
against Adam instead of the tree.
In a gesture that was almost a reflex, 
Adam's arm went around her
shoulder, and Linda turned to look
at him. His head went down, hers
went up and back, and they kissed.
After the picnic project was finished, 
there was no excuse for
Adam to see Linda, unless she
made one. Which she did.
On one rainy evening, Linda's
car pulled up even with Adam's
truck on Fillmore, and Linda's
voice called a gay, "Hi!" at the
man who sat with his elbow
crooked upon the window edge.
He waved and grinned, and
would have drive on.
"Adam!" she called. "Wait!"
He pulled to the curb, got out
and leaned into the convertible
which she had stopped behind him.
He didn't get in, rain or no rain.
She appreciated his caution. "A
young and handsome man," she
drawled, "can't be too careful."
That's right, Neither can the
Supe of a hospital run by six hundred 
railroad workers, half of them
living there on Fillmore avenue."
Perhaps she spoke on the spur
of the moment. "That's what
wanted to tell you," she said urgently. 
"I'm resigning from the
hospital."
"Huh?"
She gave him a long, smoldering
look. "You're not surprised?"
"Sure I'm surprised. Why're you
doing it?"
She smiled a little, patiently
"The other night—remember? Out
at the lake? I decided I couldn't

possibly go on, the way things are
here. And if I couldn't go on, I'd
better leave."
Adam was no fool. He knew that
this was an attempt to force the
issue. Before marrying Ann, he'd
had girls try that tactic With
Linda—he stood chewing his lip,
rubbing his big hand along the
edge of the car window, thinking
hard. He was tempted. But, gee
whiz— To break with Ann, to get
into all that such a break would
mean—a divorce, and all the legal
mess, the heartaches— Just because 
he'd worked up a fever over
a woman with green eyes.
He looked up. "What would you
do?" he asked politely. "If you
left Kennerly?"
Cynicism was no part of Adam
Laird, and yet— he thought, watching
the way Linda recovered from
that, or rather the way she did
not need to recover.
"I only went so far as saying
I might leave the hospital," she
told him gayly.
She'd said . . . Well, that would
do. He waited.
"Nursing is my career, of
course," she was explaining in
reasoning way. "But if I'm ever
going to make a break, it should
be just about now."
She was watching him, and he
hoped his face showed nothing, A
man didn't imagine a certain woman 
in his arms as often as he'd
imagined Linda, and then feel
nothing at her decision—or his.
"Oh," he said, as brightly as any
idiot, "you've decided to quit work
and marry Bell!"
He was glad that, what with the
trees and the rain, the light was
too poor for her really to see his
face. He straightened so that he
no longer leaned into the car—
and was glad that he had never
once said a word to Linda about
her appeal to him, her attraction.
"Yes, she said thoughtfully, "I
would marry Theodore—if—
well—" She glanced at him, her
green eyes bright.
It was the time, the chance, to
put in his claim but he didn't.
Adam took off his hat, and put
it on again. "Bell would be awfully 
good to you," he said quietly.
Now Linda let herself show
something of what she was feeling. 
Her lips thinned, and her
hands pounded the wheel rimlightly. 
"Yes," she agreed, "he
be very good to me. He might even
—Adam, would you sell us that
house you're building on Crescent?" 

He almost laughed aloud. It had
always been "Linda's house," any
way — He'd jump at the chance
to sell it!
"You think Bell would be in a
mind to buy such a house?" he
asked, careful not to sound eager.
Linda's smile was dazzling it
didn't show a thing. "He'll be in
the mind," she drawled, Silkily,
meaningly.
"I guess he would at that," said
Adam briskly. "Though he does
have the reputation of being tight
with his money." Let Bell buy the
house, he was thinking. Then all
the people in these houses on Fillmore 
would know why he talked
so long one evening with Miss Van
Sant.
()

MY WEEKLY
SERMON
REV. BLAIR T. HUNT,
PASTOR
MISSISSIPPI BLVD. CHRISTIAN
CHURCH, MEMPHIS

TEXT: Read the Beatitudes. —
Matthew 5:2-12.
Happiness is hard to define. It is
a half-way station between contentment 
and ecstasy. There are
many types and grades of happiness.
For example, a man may be happy 
when his mother-in-law leaves
town anther may be happy when
he sits down eats a good meal then
sits by his fire place with his corncob 
pipe and reads the newspaper.
This is animal happiness. Another
may be happy when he sacrifices
for one he loves. This may be called
heavenly happiness. Few very few
people are happy all the time.
Everybody wants to be happy . . .
But there are people who are happy
so seldom and then that seldom is
very brief. Happiness is the universal 
desire of the spirit. That which
we want we try to get.
Some people find happiness in
money, in clothes, in a Cadillac, in
a mansion. Some people find happiness 
in music, some in the face of
a loved one, some in the beauties
of the universe, the fleecy clouds,
the rolling seas, the towering mountains. 

Sooner or later in our chase for
happiness, we find ourselves deceived, 
happiness is something we can't
buy. We can't pursue it for its sake
alone, it must be a by product.
At last we discover that the only
people who are really happy are
those who are not thinking of happines 
at all but who have lost them
selves in something great and glo
rious 
and noble. Lose yourself, bury
yourself in some great cause of
righteousness, and you will find
happiness is yours.
Jesus the Christ said: "Except a
corn of wheat bury itself in the
Ground and die it abideth alone:
But if it buries itself and die, it
bringeth forth much fruit."
The great trouble in life we substatute 
the pursuit of happiness for
the pursuit of holiness. Holiness is
man's total response to God and 
fellowman. Man's quality of 
must square with God and man.
Jesus Christ summed it all up in
his beatitudes especially when he
said: "Blessed are those that do
hunger and thirst after righteousness 
for they shall be filled," yes
filled with happiness. Thus filled we
can genuinely sing "I'm Happy With
Jesus Alone."

(SERMONETTE)
REV. BLAIR T. HUNT,
PASTOR
MISSISSIPPI BLVD. CHRISTIAN
CHURCH, MEMPHIS

TEXT: Read the Beatitudes. —
Matthew 5:2-12.
Happiness is hard to define. It is
a half-way station between contentment 
and ecstasy. There are
many types and grades of happiness.
For example, a man may be happy 
when his mother-in-law leaves
town anther may be happy when
he sits down eats a good meal then
sits by his fire place with his corncob 
pipe and reads the newspaper.
This is animal happiness. Another
may be happy when he sacrifices
for one he loves. This may be called
heavenly happiness. Few very few
people are happy all the time.
Everybody wants to be happy . . .
But there are people who are happy
so seldom and then that seldom is
very brief. Happiness is the universal 
desire of the spirit. That which
we want we try to get.
Some people find happiness in
money, in clothes, in a Cadillac, in
a mansion. Some people find happiness 
in music, some in the face of
a loved one, some in the beauties
of the universe, the fleecy clouds,
the rolling seas, the towering mountains. 

Sooner or later in our chase for
happiness, we find ourselves deceived, 
happiness is something we can't
buy. We can't pursue it for its sake
alone, it must be a by product.
At last we discover that the only
people who are really happy are
those who are not thinking of happines 
at all but who have lost them
selves in something great and glo
rious 
and noble. Lose yourself, bury
yourself in some great cause of
righteousness, and you will find
happiness is yours.
Jesus the Christ said: "Except a
corn of wheat bury itself in the
Ground and die it abideth alone:
But if it buries itself and die, it
bringeth forth much fruit."
The great trouble in life we substatute 
the pursuit of happiness for
the pursuit of holiness. Holiness is
man's total response to God and 
fellowman. Man's quality of 
must square with God and man.
Jesus Christ summed it all up in
his beatitudes especially when he
said: "Blessed are those that do
hunger and thirst after righteousness 
for they shall be filled," yes
filled with happiness. Thus filled we
can genuinely sing "I'm Happy With
Jesus Alone."

Jackson College

Moyne College, introduced Dr. Reddix 
and in his introductory remarks
described contemporary times as,
"The Era of the Great Misunderstanding 
when all the ills of society
are being blamed on the Negro."
Prof. E. L. Washburn, general
chairman of the Metropolitan Brotherhood 
organization, presided. The
Rev. S. A. Owen is church pastor.

ABSENTEE VOTERS.
Th Pentagon is making plans
a greater proportion of absentee
voters in the armed forces to participate 
in next year's presidential
election than ever before. There
are 3,000,000 potential absentee voters, 
including civilians, and the
figure for G. I's is the largest in
peace-time history.