THIS WEIRD commercial interlude began literally with a breeze—a quisling breeze that wafted through the open window of our Gopher Gap teacherage dining room, a frigid reminiscence of bygone snows. I sneezed. “You’re getting another touch of ’flu, Holloway,” Marcia cautioned me with wifely solicitude.By ROBERT COMSTOCK
THE coalition Government of British Columbia met its first test of public confidence the other day and lost. In the provincial riding of Salmon Arm, safely Conservative for twenty years, the Conservative candidate of the coalition was defeated by the C.C.F. candidate by a large majority.
TUCKED away on one of the inside pages of the morning paper the other day was an item that rated Page One for every mother or father in Canada, for every Canadian who loves his country. It was the report of a war job we haven’t done, a battle we haven’t won, a failure on the major front of health.By W. BRUCE MacKINNON
I WAS very much interested in Beverley Baxter’s article, “Should we hate the Germans?” (Dec. 1). We know there are the two classes: first, the “faddists and idealists,” and second, the “hate brigade.” I cannot agree with the idea that Nazism is not the German people.
THE FACTORY whistles blow—midshift— and Canada’s million-odd war workers take time out for lunch. A million pairs of feet quick march from the production line to the cafeteria line-up or lunch rooms where the clatter of knives and forks and dishes replaces the whir of machines and the clang-clang of plowshares being beaten into armaments.By HELEN G. CAMPBELL
AS THE end of the year 1942 approaches the British people are permitting themselves the unaccustomed luxury of being rather angry. True to the British character which is essentially paradoxical this bout of anger synchronizes with the first ringing of the church bells since 1940, the magnificent victory in Egypt, and the tremendous Anglo-American coup in Africa which, in one bold stroke, hurled the Axis powers from the offensive to the defensive.By Beverly Baxter's
NORAH McCARTHY is a pretty nineteenyear-old girl from North Bay, Ont., who makes almost as much money as the Prime Minister—and draws larger audiences than most prime ministers are fortunate enough to attract. Until May 7, 1942, Norah’s net earnings were a basketful of medals won for amateur figure skating.By THELMA LECOCQ
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