SEEN
and
ardund the
NATIONAL
CAPITAL
By Carter Field ^
Washington. — There is more then
a possibility that the wages and
hours bill will go over until the
next session of congress The prob
ability right along has been that it
would be enacted, in some form,
but the difficulties are great, the
lines of thought which must be rec
onciled are wide apart, and the
number of men in both houses who
would like to see the thing put over
is very large.
It includes the new chairman of
the house labor committee, Mary
T. Norton of ersey City, who suc
ceeded to the chairmanship on the
death of William P. Connery of
Massachusetts.
If it were not for the Supreme
court enlargement bill fight in the
senate, the situation might be dif
ferent. But all house members know
that the senate is not going to have
much time this session to fool with
the wages and hours bill, and they
know perfectly well that the senate
is not going to rush through any
bill which the house may agree on
without extensive debate.
The thought of the house, there
fore, is that if they do a tremendous
Job, surrender principles and opin
ions in compromises to get some
thing through and perhaps put them
selves on record on things which
may prove very embarrassing later
—the whole thing may be wasted.
The senate Just might decide not
to take the bill up this session.
The house members know that the
wages and hours regulation bill is
a subject on which there will be
widely varied opinions back in their
districts, with more than a prob
ability that there may be consid
erable numbers of their constitu
ents to whom it just Is the most Im
portant measure on which congress
will vote. By the same token, some
one of these groups may be so
outraged by ttfeir congressman’s
vote on this bill that they will be
Inclined to vote against him at the
next primary and election regard
less of anything else he may have
done or failed to do.
Danger Multiplied
There is always the possibility of
this sort of thing on any controver
sial legislation. But in the wages
and hours measure this danger is
multiplied. It is a thing which
touches the lives and pocketbooks,
In one way or another, of a far
larger proportion of people than
the average measure. In fact, there
Is probably more selfish interest in
it than any other legislation which
congress is called upon to consider
at this session.
Voters ought to be equally inter
, ested in a tax bill, for of course
every one’s pocketbook is affected
by that, but there is quite a large
percentage of voters who do not
believe that their pocketbooks ore
affected by a tax bill.
In the case of this wages and
hours bill it is not the outright op
ponents of the measure who threat
en to postpone action on It As a
matter of fact, the number of out
right opponents is so small as to
be futile against the steam-roller
tactics possible, especially in the
house. It is just people who do not
want to take any unnecessary
chance, if they are sure that taking
the chance at this time will do no
particular good.
Moreover, there are a lot of mem
bers of the house who think that the
sensible thing for them to do while
the senate is wrangling over the
Supreme court enlargement bill is
to take a nice long recess, with a
gentlemen’s agreement that noth
ing will be done and no roll calls
forced before a certain day That
would give a lot of them a chance
to go home, or to the seashore,
or perhaps even to Europe.
Deep, Dark Stuff
Two Jobs are going on under the
surface at Capitol Hill while the
senate engages in a debate on the
merits and demerits—or at least
that Is what the debate is supposed
to be about—of the Supreme court
enlargement bill.
One of these is an attempt to com
promise that measure itself. One
of the compromises being talked
about might easily be acceptable
to most of the opponents of the
measure—but the administration is
not ready to accept that yet. It may
never accept it for the odds would
seem to favor the administration’s
being able to break the filibuster if
it continues to press for such a con
summation. with no regard what
ever for consequences.
The other Job is determining, tn
private conferences between sen
ators and representatives, the fate
of several other important meas
ures. which, under the stringent
rules being enforced in the effort
to break the cloture, cannot be
discussed seriously on the Boor. That
is, under the strict letter of the
rules it cannot. Actually no attempt
has ever been made, during past
filibusters, to enforce the rule that
a speaker must confine himself to
the subject
The answer is simple. It would
not make any difference. Filibust
ers are not broken because those
taking part in them run out of
things to say. They are broken for
two reasons. Sometimes the physi
cal strain on the participants be
comes too great They give out
physically—not for lack of ideas.
The other is when the country be
comes aroused against the endless
talking, shows plainly that its sym
pathies are the other way. and
thereby deprives the filibusters of
an incentive to go on.
No Good Anyway
There is no hint of either of these
things yet. So it would really do
no good for the administration group
to clap down on some time-killing
speaker with a demand that he stop
discussing, for example, the wages
and hours bill.
For that is one of the things
that is being talked about under
the surface more than anything else.
So far no accord has been reached.
Some of the participants in the con
ferences are still worrying about
regional differentials—whether em
ployees can be worked longer hours
and paid smaller wages in the South
than in the North. Others are wor
ried about exemptions, the latest
decision of the administration ap
parently being that there are to be
none.
Then there is always the govern- j
ment reorganization bill. There is
general agreement among congress
men .that President Roosevelt can
have his additional secretaries.
There is a willingness to give him
several other things ho wants. But
the measure is not going to pass
in toto as the President wants it—
far from it.
Just for instance, the army en
gineers are not going to have their
powers even jeopardized, much less
threatened. And that is only one.
There are a lot more. There may
be one more cabinet position, but
not the two more the President
wishes.
But the details of both the gov
ernment reorganization and the
wages and hours bills are still under
discussion — in the cloakrooms, in
offices, and even at parties. That
is usually the rule during some big
filibuster which has reached the
stage, as this has, where no other
business will be permitted by the
side trying to break the talkfest.
And it still looks like an October
adjournment!
Make Up! Not Yet
John L. Lewis and William Green
are not going to kiss and make up
before Christmas, no matter what
authentic sounding gossip you may
hear to that effect. Neither is Frank
lin D. Roosevelt going to repudiate
Lewis, no matter how much he
quotes that “Plague on both your
houses.” Neither is on the cards.
Eventually, the probability is that
the American Federation of Labor
and the Committee for Industrial
Organization will unite. But not for
some time to come. Not this good
year of 1937 It is much too soon.
There is too much face-saving to
be done first, and the time for the
face-saving gestures is not yet.
For either to make any gesture
now would be construed by too many
of their followers as a sign of weak
ness. For Lewis to make the move
would deter certain important unions
which are thinking of jumping the
old organization to one that prom
ises more action. It would cool the
enthusiasm of so many budding
unions about to affiliate with C. I. O.
For Green to make the move
would be construed by too many as
not merely a sign of weakness, but
virtually as a surrender.
But even the die-hards on both
sides know that inevitably some
thing must bring about peace. For
the time being there is considerable
advantage in the present setup—
from the standpoint of organized
labor.
Reminiscence
Actually the present situation Is
reminiscent of the bitterness which
raged, back In the Wilson admin
istration, between the two groups
of women who were fighting for
woman suffrage. In this comparison
the C. 1. O is like the Woman's
party, headed by vibrant Alice Paul,
the American Federation being like
the dignified but rather Ineffective
association headed by Carrie Chap
man Catt. Mrs. Catt's group had
just as many arguments and a great
deal more money, but it was ter- I
ribly sedate. Mrs Catt worried a
great deal about what was the
proper thing to do. Alice Paul kept
the “cause" on the front pages. She
had women picketing the White
House, dropping banners over house
of representatives galleries when
the President was addressing con
gress, always was exciting.
The Woman’s party did things and
put things over. It obtained the sub
mission of the woman suffrage
amendment and its ratification by
three-fourths of the states at a time
when any candid observer will ad
mit that the great majority of the
country did not care two whoops
whether women had the right to
vote or not. It literally heckled the
thing through.
Most people have forgotten how
bitter the feud was between the two
groups of women. Most people twen
ty years hence will have forgotten
the present bitterness between the
Federation and the C. I. O. No
mere difference between the crafl
plan and the one union for each
industry idea is going to keep the
two big organizations apart. But
personalities will, for many months
to come. Though if the feud lasts
until the presidential election in 194(
it will surprise most of the insiders
• Bell Syndicate.—WNU Service.
I A City Under 1
a City !
Railroads Burrow Under New York City.
Travelers Rarely Realize Whirlwind
of Activity in Pennsylvania Station
Prepared by National Geographic Society,
Washington. I). C.—WNU Service.
ALTHOUGH it celebrated
A its twenty-fifth anniver
sary in 1935, the Pennsyl
vania station in New York
still is the largest in the
world.
Walk around it and you
have tramped half a mile,
with no more sight of train or
track than you would encoun
ter about the Vatican or the
Louvre.
The station really is an eight-acre
platform, with a mammoth super
structure, bridging the Manhattan
mouths of two tunnels. Some trains
run through these tunnels for seven
miles, from New Jersey to Long
Island, under the Hudson and East
rivers, pausing beneath the station,
but never emerging into the day
light or night glow of New York
city.
Northbound trains pass the most
complex traffic corner in the world, i
for above the train tunnel, at Her
ald square, in the order named, are
the Sixth avenue subway, the Hud
son-Manhattan tubes, the street-lev
el bus lines and the Sixth avenue
elevated. Imagine an airplane over
head, and it would be perfectly
feasible for six vehicles to pass that
intersection at one time.
Half Million Tickets a Month.
It takes a staff of 76 men to sell
tickets at Pennsylvania station. In
a normal month they sold 553,204
tickets for $1,595,280.60. The months
of Easter, Christmas and Labor day
raise that volume by a third or
more.
Printed tickets ready for sale,
150,000,000 of them, are stored in a
room where they are guarded like
notes in the United States treasury.
Some of these tinted, water
marked slips are worth a hundred
dollars and more when stamped.
Beside each seller’s grilled win
dow is a rack from which he flicks
out tickets with familiar noncha
lance. These racks are mounted
on wheels and have folding fronts
and locks.
Each seller has his own rack and
key. When he goes off duty, he
rolls his rack back of the line,
locks it, and deposits the key in
the cashier’s safe. The tickets are
charged out to him and he must
return the unsold quota and the
money for those he sold.
Selling Tickets Is Final Step.
The station cashier’s office is like
a bank. You may have noticed that
when you pay for meals on a dining
car you always receive crisp, new
bills in change. The cashier must
have on hand these ’’fresh" bills
for stewards. Some $3,000 in
"ones” are enough five days of the
week, but on Saturdays, Sundays,
and holidays he must have a stock
of $7,000 or $8,000 in ones alone.
Selling tickets, however, is only
the final step in series of events.
"When does the next train leave
for Topeka, Kan.?" “What connec
tions do I make for Chicago?”
"What is the fare?"
Only a small fraction of such
questions are asked in person at
the conspicuous information booths.
Normally 20 clerks are on duty at
a time answering some 700 tele
phone calls an hour.
The peak of this year’s inquiries
exceeded 1,100 in one hour before
Labor day. Forty-four clerks work
in shifts to dispense information.
If you watch the smooth operation
of the soundproof telephone room
not once will you see a clerk con
sult a timetable. They are too
cumbersome and tell too little.
Foolish Questions Come Often.
Instead, the information chief
works with card-index experts to
compile all information about sched
ules of all railroad, airplane, and
bus lines and all fares on visible
card files.
One file gives name of all im
portant golf clubs on Long Island
and the nearest railroad station to
each club.
It takes poise, tact, resourceful
ness, to answer some questions. As
examples:
“Do I have a berth all to myself
or do I have to share it?"
“What hotels in Washington have
swimming pools?”
“My husband left last night on the
B. and O. Where is he going?”
"Have you any hay fever fares to
New Hampshire?”
These ’Phones ARE Busy.
“What time do I get a train to go
to Mr. Abram Walker’s funeral at
Toms Ferry?"
“Should I dress and undress in
my berth or in the men’s room?”
When you reserve a ticket by
telephone you call one of the busi
est telephone numbers in New York
city. In addition to outside lines,
130 branch ticket offices in Manhat
tan, Brooklyn and Newark are con
nected with the central reservation
bureau by private wires.
In a spacious gallery from 15 to
20 clerks sit before a series of aper
tures like old-time village post-office
boxes, except that these cases are
mounted to move along a track
from clerk to clerk.
In the boxes are piled the reser
vation cards, the kind the Puilman
conductor always is Angering just
before the train leaves; in each
pigeonhole are marked-up cards for
60 days ahead.
Lights Govern Conversation.
Before each clerk is a series of
ten red lights and ten green lights.
The green lights denote a ticket
office call; the red lights an outside
call direct from a passenger.
A green lightr flashes.
“Lower ten, K7. 3 p. m. Chicago.
Today. Ticket 7,492. Right.”
\ In very different tone and tempo
is the next response to a red light,
an individual who must have expla
nation of price, type of accommoda
tion, daylight time in summer, and
a “thank you.”
No switchboard operator inter
venes in the 10,000 or sometimes
many more calls that come in daily.
An automatic selector, worked out
with the New York Telephone com
pany engineers, routes these calls
from ten lines out of the selector
room to ten “positions” at the "card
tables” in the reservation bureau.
If one operator is busy, the "se
lector” shunts the call to another,
lighting the red or green signal to
denote its origin. In an average 24
hours 63 clerks are employed in
shifts to make some 8,000 reser
vations for berths, chairs, compart
ments or drawing rooms.
What They Leave on Trains.
Perhaps the high light of "human
interest” in the station is the lost
and found storeroom. There are
stored and ticketed some several
hundred different items.
The articles recently included a
basket of spectacles, skis, two
cats, a bootblack's outfit, books in
six languages, a pair of crutches,
three sets of false teeth, a restive
terrier, dozens of umbrellas, tennis
racquets, more than twoscore wom
en’s coats, piles of gloves, a fresh
sirloin steak (sad harbinger of do
mestic recrimination) and $20,000
worth of bonds about to be returned
by special messenger.
In subterranean corridors, far
below the station tracks, may be
piled hundreds of pigeon crates. As
many as 3,200 crates of homers
have been shipped in a month, as
far as a thousand miles, to be re
leased by baggagemasters for races
back to home lofts.
Other strange shipments come
through the station for baggage or
express cars—baby alligators, pedi
greed chicks, honeybees, game,
thousands of crates of "mail order
eggs” and bullion cargoes accom
panied by 25 or 30 armed men.
Saturday nights from 75 to 80
trucks race with their loads of Sun
day papers to catch the baggage
cars attached to the "paper trains.”
One newspaper’s early Sunday edi
tion goes to press at 9:10 p. m. and
is loaded on a train leaving at 9:50.
If the driver gets held up by a
single traffic light the stationmaster
must hold the train.
Handling the Mail.
Some 150 carloads of mail are
handled in and out of this station ev
ery day. If the sacks were piled
and hauled along platforms passen- ;
gers would not have space to board
trains. They are dropped through
trap doors beside mail cars where
conveyer belts carry them to huge
separating tables.
There men assort the bags as
they pour in and pitch them into
chutes for other belts that run be
neath the street to the city post
office adjoining, or to belts that
connect with outgoing trains.
Around special tracks, to which
passengers are not admitted, where
mail cars await loading, are spy
galleries from which postal inspec
tors, unseen by the workers, may
watch the operation.
Nearly 150,000 sacks of mail a
day, about 1,500 trunks and other'
checked baggage, 2.200 pieces of
hand baggage checked in pa'rcel
rooms and a thousand more pieces
in parcel lockers, from 20,000 to
30,000 pieces of parcel post—these
are some of the operations that
must not obtrude upon passenger
comfort
ADVENTURERS’ CLUB
HEADLINES FROM THE LIVES
OF PEOPLE LIKE YOURSELF!
“ Triple-Barreled Thrill ”
By FLOYD GIBBONS
Famous Headline Hunter
Hello everybody:
Here’s a yarn tha^ packs thrills enough to last
through a whole night. At least, it did for Mrs. Dorothy
Murphy. Many years ago, Dorothy was living on a farm in
the Chestnut Ridge section near the little town of Dover
Plains, N. Y. She set out to drive to the railroad station three
miles away, and before she got back she’d had enough ad
ventures to last a life-time.
That was in February, 1914. Dorothy was just eighteen years old
and going under her maiden name of Dorothy Daily. Her aunt had been
spending two weeks with the family and it was she whom Dorothy drove
to the train on that cold, February evening. Automobiles weren’t so
common then. What Dorothy drove was a surrey, drawn by an old, half
blind horse named Brownie.
The train pulled out of Dover Plains at 6:45 p. m., and Dor
othy turned the horse around and headed for home. Already it
was dark—a moonless, starless night. The way back lay along
a steep, rough, unfenced country road that climbed for nearly
three miles before it reached Chestnut Ridge. On one side of
it lay thick woods covering an upward slope of the ground, and
on the other was a steep declivity. For part of the distance, that
declivity straightened out into a tall cliff. And there was nothing
* to prevent a carriage from going over it if it approached too
close to its edge.
That was Dorothy’s first thrill—the prospect of driving over that road
in the dark. She hadn’t thought darkness would fall so soon that night,
and she was scared stiff of that cliff. As she drove along, and the
darkness deepened, she couldn’t see her hand before her face, and she
gave Brownie a free rein, hoping that his instincts would keep him on
the road.
Thoughts While Hurtling Through Space.
They were going along the top of that cliff, and all was going well.
And then, all of a sudden, Dorothy felt the wheels slipping over the edge.
Poor, half-blind old Brownie had failed her. He had gone too close to
the edge! The surrey gave a sudden lurch and Dorothy was thrown
out into space!
Says Dorothy: ”1 clutched at the air as it slid past me, like
a drowning man clutches at straws. My hands grabbed some
bushes growing out from the side of the cliff and I hung on
for all I was worth. And there I was, between earth and air, and
with nothing to save me from death on the rocks below but my
precarious hold on those shrubs.”
Dorothy says that time has no meaning under such circumstances.
The minutes seemed like years. Her arms were aching and her head
was swimming. She could hear Brownie and the surrey wandering
"I was afraid I’d grow weak or faint.”
off in the darkness. Evidently the old horse had pulled the surrey back
on the road after she had been thrown out. For a terrible moment she
clung to the bushes, and then her fingers encountered a branch of a
small tree growing along the side of the cliff.
She caught it with one hand—then the other—and drew herself up over
the cliff to safety. She lay on the ground for a while, sick and weak. Then,
having recovered a little, she got up and stumbled to the road.
The Big Thrill Was Yet to Come.
Brownie and the surrey were nowhere in sight. Dorothy started
walking toward home. You’d think she'd had enough adventuring for
one night—but the big thrill hadn’t even started. She had only walked
a few steps when she heard a sound that froze her blood in her veins—the
baying and yelping of dogs.
Dogs don’t sound so dangerous—but Dorothy knew better. A
short time before she had seen the body of a boy who had been
killed and partially eaten by these same dogs. They were wild
animals—descendants of dogs who had run away from their mas
ters to live in the woods and had1 reverted to type. Every once in
a while, in those days, packs of that sort appeared in the woods
in various places throughout the country. And they still do, in
wild, outlying regions. ^
A single dog would run at the sight of a man, but in a pack, and in
the middle of winter when they were half starved, they would attack
almost anyone. Dorothy knew all too well what would happen if this
pack caught up with her. She turned, stumbling, into the woods and
ran until she found a tree.
It was a tree with a low fork of its branches—one she could climb.
She began pulling herself up into it. The yelping of the pack was coming
nearer and nearer. She wasn’t a minute too soon. She had hardly
clambered into the lower branches when they were on the spot, yelping
and snarling at the bottom of the tree.
She Couldn’t Understand Why There Was No Help.
"And there I was,” she says, "perched in the tree while the hunger
maddened brutes howled and snarled below. I still turn sick and cold
all over when I think of that moment. The worst part of it was that I
was afraid I’d grow weak or faint, or so numb from the cold that I’d
fall out. I knew what would happen then.”
Hour after hour Dorothy clung to that tree, wondering why her
folks didn’t miss her and come looking for her. Wondering why
they didn’t realize something was wrong when the horse and
buggy came home without her. She didn’t know that old Brownie,
turning completely around in his struggles to haul the surrey back
on the road, had wandered back to town and was spending the
night in an open horse shed. Her folks thought Dorothy had de
cided to spend the night with relatives in town, as she often did,
so they didn't worry. And all that night, she crouched in the tree
racked by the cold and harried by terrible fears.
As the first streaks of gray appeared in the sky, the dogs slunk off
i through the woods, and when she thought it was safe she came down
and crawled to the road. She couldn’t walk, but a farmer, driving to the
! milk depot, found her in the road and brought her home.
Dorothy says she’s written this story for us other adventurers to read,
but she adds, "Usually, I don’t think of it if I can help it.”
©— WNU Service.
Naming Wall Street
Wall street in New York City
received its name from a wall built
across one end of Manhattan island.
In 1652 Gov. Peter Stuyvesant
built a palisaded wall or stockade
across the southern end of Man
hattan island to protect the little
Dutch colony of New Amsterdam
against a threatened attack by the
British. Wall street received its
name from the fact that it follows
the line of this wall. The last rem
nants of the wall, which contained
gates at what are now Broadway
and Pearl street, were removed
about 1699.
Camels Used in Australia
Camels have been in use in Aus
tralia for nearly a hundred years,
and are found hauling wool to
railway sidings from “out-back sta
tions” in West Australia. Twelve to
fifteen are hitched to a huge truck
An old gold miner from Ballarat
recounted how camels were used tc
pull the stage coaches from Mel
bourne to the mining towns before
the railways were built. The stage
coaches were duplicates of our owr
in the “Deadwood Dick" days. Anc
alongside the driver rode an armec
guard for protection against the out
law “bush rangers.”
Prize Applique Quilt
With Much Variety
Here’s simplicity in needlework
in this gay applique quilt, Grand
mother’s Prize—they’re such easy
patches to apply! If it’s variety
you’re looking for, make this your
choice. There’s the fun of using
so many different materials—the
pleasure of owning so colorful a
quilt that fits into any bedroom.
And if it’s just a pillow you want,
the 8 inch block makes an effec
tive one. Pattern 1458 contains
complete, simple instructions for
cutting, sewing and finishing, to
gether with yardage chart, dia
gram of quilt to help arrange the
blocks for single and double bed
size, and a diagram of block which
serves as a guide for placing the
patches and suggests contrasting
materials.
Send 15 cents in stamps or coins
(coins preferred) for this pattern
to The Sewing Circle Needlecraft
Dept., 82 Eighth Ave., New York,
N. Y.
Please write your name, ad
dress, and pattern number plainly.
Household Helps
Do you know the proper thing to
say when you sit on a wad of chew
ing gum?
If your suit is washable, here is
the correct command—if you want
to get rid of the chewing gum and
not your garment:
“Bring me an egg white, some
soap and some lukewarm water.
Then stand back and watch me
soften the gum with the egg white
—so! And finally wash it complete*
ly away with the soapy water.”
If your suit isn’t washable, the
fabric-saving element is carbon
tetra-chloride, which will remove
all traces of stain.
The authority for these points of
chewing gum etiquette is a new
booklet called “Handy Helps for
Homemakers,” which has been
prepared by a group of home
economics authorities. This book
let is a convenient, compact hand
book of practical remedies for the
most common household problems.
It is divided into four sections:
laundering (which includes not only
stain-removal formulae, but also
detailed advice on the proper way
to wash various fabrics); home
lighting; heating, and cooking.
The writers of the “Handy Helps
for Homemakers” booklet have
confined the chapter on .“Cooking”
to an informative discussion of
meat-selection rules, suggestions
for improving actual cooking tech
nique and a summary of the merits
and problems of home canning.
A copy of the “Handy Helps for
Homemakers” book can be secured
by sending 5 cents to cover postage
and handling to Miss Boyd, 210 S.
Desplaines St., Chicago, 111.—Adv.
Reading a Book
Many times the reading of a
book has made the fortune of a
man—has decided his way in life.
—Emerson.
--
lillais OLASSisli/oHotlRS
——— , ' " '■ ' " — - - *
WNU—U30—37
___________________
Classified
Advertising
Have you
anything around the
house you would like
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classified ad. The cost
is only a few cents and
there are probably a
lot of folks looking
for just whatever it
is you no longer have
use for.
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