¶ IN ITS issue of March 15, 1932, Maclean's published a
list of bank accounts that had been forgotten by Canadian depositors. It was compiled for us by Grant Dexter, who, after many weeks of painstaking checking with the latest returns, now conveys the joyful announcement that as a result of the article readers of this magazine, their relatives or friends, have recovered $278,765.80 in cash.
On page thirteen of this issue (shattering once and for all the superstition that thirteen is an unlucky number) we publish another list of deposits which, because of what to us are unaccountable lapses on the part of their owners, have been listed as “lost” since 1926 and 1927. If the result equals that of last year, it will mean that Maclean's has put back into circulation about half a million dollars. In the United States it took an election, a new president and a vote of Congress to loosen up the currency. In Canada two opposition parties, 1,347 economists and 250,000 after-dinner speakers have so far failed to loosen thirty cents. And here wc are adding a cool half million to the spending power of the population! The World Economic Conference ought to ta switched from London to 481 University Avenue.
Our New Serial and Horace
if HORACE, the composing rcxnn messenger, has ^ just been in.
“This illustrator chap Clymer,” said Horace. “Is he fast?”
Wc looked aghast and explained that Clymer is a young married man, uuict and shy.
“Aw, I mean does he paint fast?" said Horace. “What I mean is, how long is he going to ta turning in the pictures for the rest of that new serial, ‘Czar's Gold'? You see I read the first two installments, and I'm kind of itching to find out what happens next.”
“That's one swell yarn,” said Horace. “It’s so swell that I wonder how you came to buy it." (Horace is like that.) “And that Rooshun girl, Vera Con Constant —say it's a wonder to me how those Rooshuns can pronounce their own names—she's an eyeful, she is. Mark my words, that feller they call the Blotxly Baron, and the Chink, General What’s-his-name—they're bad eggs, both of them. But I'll tat that Stacey Horton will walk all over them. Just you mark my words.”
You can mark Horace's words by turning to page five, where begins Rotart Welles Ritchies newest novel, “Czar's Gold.” We consider it has everything a good adventure tale ought to have and then a little more.
Those New Hats
(T ANOTHER FEATURE of this issue that ap^ pealed to Horace enormously is the article “My Hat!' on page eight, in which Dora Sanders trims with ridicule some of the latest modes in feminine headgear. It isn't that Horace agrees with Miss Sanders, because it seems that Horace has a girl who looks as cute as anything in a hat like a gravy-bait. His satisfaction comes in contemplating what may happen to us. “Boy, oh boy, "he said with a glint of triumph in his eye,“if I was you I'd be getting so far away from the office that it would take six months to deliver a post-card. You’ve been getting away with murder lately, but you won't get away with that." We dismissed Horace with .1 wave of the hand signifying calm indifference, but after office hours we sneaked downstairs and added to the article an editor's note stating that of course we'd ta only too glad to receive and publish a certam number of opposing views.
We thought it tatter to do this than to go with J. D. M. Gray on his transatlantic flight via the northern route. On page fifteen Gray tells us why he thinks a commercial and air-mail line between Great Britain and Canada, via Iceland, Greenland and Labrador is feasible and could be profitable. He also gives some interesting facts concerning the activities of the United States air lines in these areas.
Roosevelt and Sleepy Webster (f WHATEVER ERRORS President Roosevelt may ^ make, and he admits that he may make some, his policy of getting things done has captured public fancy on the other side of the line, and on this side too. At the time of the conversations with the prime ministers of Britain and Canada, Grattan O’Leary had a personal interview with Mr. Roosevelt. On page nine he presents his impressions of the president and of the man, and outlines the steps he has taken, in what is really an incredibly short space of time, to restore the confidence of his nation.
In direct contrast to Mr. Roosevelt, consider Sleepy Wehster. As John W. Todd’s typist remarked, “It's got me why a swell girl like Martha Todd should bother about a guy like that. Of all the dumb things in plusfours, that Webster is the last in line.” Nevertheless, Sleepy led Martha to the altar, and, strange to relate, John W. Todd himself, in person, gave them his blessing. Beverley CXven reveals all the extraordinary reasons on page eighteen.
(f CAPTAIN THOMAS was little more than forty ^ when he took command of the liner Jason. After twenty years of hard and diligent devotion to duty, reward was his. His career was assured. And on board with him was his daughter, Janice, a girl to be proud of. Then a glimpse of a man’s face revived the past he thought he had obliterated. For twenty years. Captain Thomas had lived under “False Colors." That is the situation around which Captain Dingle has woven the stirring sea yarn on page sixteen.
More stir in matters nautical will be found on page twenty-four. It will ta recalled that in our April ist issue Frederick William Wallace, in an article entitled “Should We Own Ships?” stood by the Canadian Government Merchant Marine. Since then, a number of Maritime Province readers have taken vigorous issue with Mr. Wallace. Wc have therefore elected O. F. MacKenzie as leader of the opposition, and his views are presented in this issue.
(f “HELL'S GENERAL STAFF” is the title of ^ another powerful article by Lieut.-Colonel George A. Drew dealing with the munitions traffic. It will appear in Maclean's June 15.
A woman thought her baby was going to fall out of the cradle. She rushed to it, tripped over the rocker, knocked a flowerpot out of the window and laid low a passing iceman. Her husband, rushing to the iceman’s assistance, slipped on the broken ice and broke his ankle. This is one of many odd accidents reported to Canadian insurance companies. Beverley Owen will offer a whole string of them in “Watch Your Step.” R. T. L.'s sketch will be of Agnes Macphail, and there will ta other articles to entertain and edify.
A stirring South Sea Islands story, “In Praise of a Trader,” by J. C. Peters; “Moon of My Delight," a breezy love story by F. B. Watt; “Blanc-Mange,” a robust story of the lumber camps and the boxing ring, by John C. Nelson; the final story in E. Phillips Oppenheim's series of detective series, “Uncle Hiram Saves the Situation," and another installment of “Czar's Gold” will supply variety enough for anybody.
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