May 15, 1946

FICTION

The One Who Didn't

GENERAL ARTICLES

Cariboo Comeback

FICTION

Too Much Glamour

The One Who Didn't 1617
FICTION

The One Who Didn't

DARCY TROBRIDGE, ambling downstairs from late morning sleep, paused on the bottom step and peered warily into the front room. At sight of the two women by the parlor fire, his dissipated young face sharpened with appraisal. Never before had he seen even his Aunt Frisbe’s imperious spine attain such a degree of rigidity.
Cariboo Comeback 2021
GENERAL ARTICLES

Cariboo Comeback

I LEANED over the cluttered counter of the "Pole Cat Inn" and asked anxiously for a room. The little Chinese proprietor, who had been running these ramshackle rooms for many years, smiled blandly. “Ho,” he chanted, “loom all full up. Evellybody come to Caliboo now.
Too Much Glamour 1011
FICTION

Too Much Glamour

YOU bore me, Steve," Petey said. She said it just like that, calmly, over the coffee. There were no preliminaries. Steve gazed blankly at her. He’d been telling her about Shanghai before the war, when he’d been flying for the Chinese, and how he chafed now at having to stay in one spot, teaching youngsters how to fly, when there was so much of the world still to be seen.
SCHOOLS FOR CROOKS 67
GENERAL ARTICLES

SCHOOLS FOR CROOKS

THE LAST time anybody took the trouble to count, Edgar Bedard had been in the police courts 45 times and in jail 39 times. When Maurice Gagnon drew his three-year term for burglary he was starting his 60th sentence in jails and prisons. In one 25-year period, an indefatigable confidence man and bandit known to the police of Montreal as The Great Gregory achieved the substantial distinction of serving 13 sentences which officially totalled 25 years and 25 days.
THE FLASHLIGHT 2021
FICTION

THE FLASHLIGHT

THIS day had been the worst since school began, and there had been some pretty bad days for Eddie Turner this year. But today things had been so bad that he didn’t think about the new flashlight until he turned up the old grass-grown, crumbling brick walk that lay between the two maple trees and led up to the side porch of the house.
Will Atomic Energy Fuel The Future? 1819
GENERAL ARTICLES

Will Atomic Energy Fuel The Future?

THE ATOMIC BOMB that blasted Hiroshima also produced the greatest outburst of rosy-hued and fantastic dreaming since Marco Polo returned with his fabulous tales of far Cathay. Such as these: Motor cars will roll from the production line complete with a built-in source of atomic power on which they will run forever, with never a stop at the gas station; “Power pills” will keep planes in the air and ocean liners endlessly plowing the seas, without need to refuel; All industrial production will be geared to atomic energy, which will be almost as free as the air, until everything from homes to baby buggies will be within pocketbook range of the humblest Zulu tribesman.
Will It Rain? 1213
GENERAL ARTICLES

Will It Rain?

PERCHED ON a high stool in a room at Dorval airport a balding, bespectacled gentlemen reflectively rubs his chin as his eyes wander from the whorls and loops on the weather map before him to the window beside his desk. Outside the May sun is shining, the Montreal area is enjoying the finest of spring mornings.
HIGH HATTER 1819
GENERAL ARTICLES

HIGH HATTER

ABOUT THE time the war broke out the fashionable ladies of Brantford, Ont., were looking rather more elegant than usual and feeling very well pleased with themselves. They had discovered a little milliner, a pretty brown-eyed Czech, with the lilting name of Lola Lanyi, who spoke almost no English but who had a way with feathers, flowers and ribbons.
Behind The Iron Curtain 89
GENERAL ARTICLES

Behind The Iron Curtain

BERLIN (By Wireless)ߞEvery road leading out of this shattered capital is commanded by a Russian sentry box. Berlin is a four-power island washed by a Russian sea. North, south, east and west lie the provinces of Saxony, Thuringia, Brandenburg and Mecklenburg—all firmly occupied by the Red Army.
Determined Lady 89
GENERAL ARTICLES

Determined Lady

DOROTHY PATRICK had chosen that day to plant two dozen rosebushes. She had leaped gaily out of bed at seven o'clock, donned the oldest clothes she could find, skipped make-up, and grubbed merrily for three hours. At 11 she looked awful, but felt wonderful.
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