HORACE, the composing room messenger, has been in again.
“Well,” said he, holding up a proof of the illustration on page five of this issue, “I guess your goose is cooked this time. You can’t get away with pictures of a big guy socking a lady on the chin. Mark my words.”
“Ah,” we answered, “but the title of the story is “Men Don't Do Such Things.”
A stubborn look came o’er Horace's face. “Did he, or didn't he sock the girl on the chin?” he demanded.
We had to admit that Mr. Glover did smite Mercy Trainor, not only on the chin, but also on a very pert little nose.
“All I can say,” said Horace, “is that I hope the big stiff got what was coming to him.”
“He did,” we pointed out. “The lady had three large-size boxing brothers. Moreover, I think she married him.”
“Oh yeah?" said Horace.
And whether you feel that way about it or not, as Addison Simmons tells the story it all sounds very reasonable.
War Debts—An Answer
RECENTLY, in The Saturday Evening Post and other United States periodicals of wide circulation, there have appeared -articles dealing with war debts, which, with little regard for accuracy in reasoning, fact and perspective, have sought to throw mud at Great Britain. Let it not be thought that these propagandists represent the thought either of the entire press of the United States or of all its thinking citizens and public men. But they do create mischief. And they do make thousands of Canadians boil with indignation. Many have written us urging Maclean's to unlimber. In a case of this sort, Maclean's needs no urging.
On page nine, Lieut.-Colonel George A. Drew, in “The Real War Debt Hoax,” specifically replies to “The Latest War Debt Hoax," a Evening Post article by Samuel Crowther. Colonel Drew's answer is also an effective exposé of the fallacies contained in other specimens of anti-British propaganda.
Ah! Sniff the Salt Air?
HAVING decided on the selection of short stories to be presented in this issue, it was a pleasant surprise to discover that we had incidentally staged a convention of Maritime authors. Benge Atlee, who, having had people murdered in every other place in a house, in his latest Kent Power story at last gets a victim in a bath-tub, is part of Halifax. Martha Banning Thomas, author of “Water Under the Bridge,” lives at Victoria Beach, N.S. And Louis Arthur Cunningham, who developed ‘No Sense of Humor,” has his home at East Riverside, New Brunswick. Both Miss Thomas and Mr. Cunningham operate versatile typewriters. Miss Thomas can, when she wills it, leave the very pleasant young people of whom she usually writes and weave just as fascinating a tale about older folk. And Mr. Cunningham is just as able to transplant himself from the days of ruffles and swords to men in boiled shirts.
Women Without a Country
WE WONDER if for a moment you could manage to pretend that you are a Canadian-born girl happily married to, say, an American civil servant stationed in Canada? Go on—it’s only pretending. Now, what and where are you? Your husband cannot forfeit his American citizenship without losing his job. You are, therefore, under Canadian law, an American. Under American law you are a Canadian, having never lived in the United States. You cannot travel abroad except on your husband’s passport. You can’t vote. In a number of ways you simply don't exist at all. And if you think that is confusing, just turn to page seventeen and let Dora Sanders tell you some of the real mix-ups which result from tangled nationality laws. Our general conclusion is that if you happen to be born above a stable you’re a horse.
Somewhat less complicated than the above puzzles, but by no means easy, are those confronting Hector Charlesworth, Canada’s Radio Commissioner. On page thirteen, through Grant Dexter, Mr. Charlesworth tells Maclean's readers what he hopes ultimately to achieve.
The Unhappy Caricaturist
THE SERIES of three minute character sketches which began in our last issue, and which is continued on page eight with a snapshot of Mr. Meighen, introduces two penetrating pens, those of “R. T. L.” and “Gitano,” the caricaturist. “Gitano” is a young Canadian who has returned to Toronto after a successful stay in New York. The art of caricature has not flourished in Canada. We have always clung to the idea that this is due largely to the fact that many of our public figures are much more sensitive, more overwhelmingly dignified, and less capable of smiling at themselves than are public men in older countries. Therefore it comes as a surprise to find David Low, the internationally famous cartoonist of the London Evening Standard, complaining that “the modern British cartoonist is cursed by tender regard for the sensitive feelings of his subjects almost to the ruin of his art.” After pointing out that he must be careful not to make Mr. Baldwin’s nose too much like a ping pong ball, or not to draw Mr. Thomas wearing a black tie with a white waistcoat, Low says:—“The medium of caricature is a godsend to ambitious politicians for it exhibits personality in an arresting and compelling manner. The cartoonist draws from physical characteristics their spiritual significance, or, reversing the process, suggestions of abstract qualities which could not otherwise be made plain. It is to be expected that in this translation the translator and his subject should not always sec eye to eye. When the subject says, T quite appreciate a good cartoon against myself,’ I feel there must be something the matter with it.”
IN PARTNERSHIP with Colonel Drew, Maclean's was the first publication to place before the world the part played by the armament makers in the sowing of seeds of war. We say “world” advisedly, because The Women’s League of Nations Association has distributed thousands of reprints of “Salesmen of Death” in nearly every country. In our next issue, Francesco Nitti, former premier of Italy, and president of the San Remo Conference of 1920, comes to the support of Colonel Drew with an article, drawn from his own knowledge, on the munitions traffic as a menace to peace. \
In “Show Down or Blow Up?” D. M. Lebourdais investigates the causes of the recent riots in Canadian penitentiaries and examines our whole penal system.
On the stage of fiction, the curtain will rise on a new series of detective stories by E. Phillips Oppenheim, the first of which, “The Killing of Monica Quayle,” introduces Malcolm Gossett, the ex-Detective.
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