The Charlotte News

Tuesday, December 5, 1939


Site Ed. Note: "Please!" brings to mind that in these months after the war began, the editorial column of The News would also contain occasional pleas for clothing and toys for children abroad either torn from their possessions by bombs, or boxed out from acquisition of them by scarcity, the necessities being sent first to the men at the front. As we have suggested once somewhere before in this space, those pleas may have resulted in some ocean-crossing gift from Charlotte which later produced inspiration to an infant, who then went on to inspire others--some say, the entire world--with his music and poems, and all for the better. We don't know, of course, but remember it and think upon it next when you have occasion to lend a hand to someone, even someone unseen and unknown far away from you, whether torn from the ordinary links to daily existence by war, nature's vicious turns, or just some wayfaring straggler on the road ripped from the moorings by the unpredictable forces of daily life. You may by it, giving it for good measure a little blessing, Irish or aught, with a wee tad song mellow, on its journey from here to there, whether by train, knight's mail or, better, seaboat, for all you may know in guessing, ne'er perish the thought, inspire the next Longfellow, in his turning sans peer so fair, such as when in his light sail of letters, he wrote:

The day is done, and the darkness
Falls from the wings of Night,
As a feather is wafted downward
From an eagle in his flight.

I see the lights of the village
Gleam through the rain and the mist,
And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me
That my soul cannot resist:

A feeling of sadness and longing,
That is not akin to pain,
And resembles sorrow only
As the mist resembles the rain.

Come, read to me some poem,
Some simple and heartfelt lay,
That shall soothe this restless feeling,
And banish the thoughts of day.

Not from the grand old masters,
Not from the bards sublime,
Whose distant footsteps echo
Through the corridors of Time.

For, like strains of martial music,
Their mighty thoughts suggest
Life's endless toil and endeavor;
And to-night I long for rest.

Read from some humbler poet,
Whose songs gushed from his heart,
As showers from the clouds of summer,
Or tears from the eyelids start;

Who, through long days of labor,
And nights devoid of ease,
Still heard in his soul the music
Of wonderful melodies.

Such songs have power to quiet
The restless pulse of care,
And come like the benediction
That follows after prayer.

Then read from the treasured volume
The poem of thy choice,
And lend to the rhyme of the poet
The beauty of thy voice.

And the night shall be filled with music
And the cares, that infest the day,
Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away.

Stalin's Bombs

By Heywood Broun

Hitler's magnetic mine is a weapon both wonderful and fearsome, but Stalin's magnetic new device seems even more amazing. The pure scientists of the Soviet have invented the class-conscious bomb. It is well-known, of course, that Josef in Moscow is animated only by his love for the toilers in all countries. Repeatedly he has declared himself a friend of peace and the patron of the proletariat in every land. When it became necessary for him to protect his empire against the menace of the fiendish Finns, a dilemma was laid upon his doorstep.

To casual commentators who are all confused, it did appear that the preliminary steps were modeled precisely after the precedents set by the Nazis in the case of Poland. There was the furious drive of the controlled press and radio. The people were worked up into a lather. The border "incident" came in precisely on cue, and the attack was made without formal declaration of war or any warning.


As in the case of Hitler's invasion of Poland, the expeditionary force was in action for several hours before the folk back home received the information that blows were being rained upon the perfidious imperialists who had stubbornly refused the kind Russian offer to partition the little nation. But here the resemblance ended.

It is true that the bombs dropped by the Soviet fliers did wreck schools and hospitals and fall into public square and residential quarters. But, unlike the blood shed by the Nazis in Poland, each Russian bomb was discriminate. By delicate device every missile was made in such a manner that it would not explode unless it fell on the neighborhood of a landlord or some rich exploiter. And naturally, it would also blow the head off any member of the bourgeoise if he had happened to be addicted beyond hope to his middle-class point of view. But for the worker and the peasant, the class-conscious bomb brings no threat at all, but only a short life of Stalin and some caviar on black bread.


Neutral observers, all in the pay of Chamberlain, have reported that when the rain of death came suddenly to Helsinki there were some among the dismembered, dead, and maimed who looked very much like workers and peasants. They said that the only release which Josef Stalin had brought to the toilers was the release of death and demolition.

But this is no more than propaganda of those old enemies of Stalin and Coughlin--the international bankers. The man who looked like the peasant to the biased correspondent in reality was a kulak who would have to be liquidated sooner or later. The dead toiler was in actuality a Trotskyite deserving of death.


As for the dismembered, even if any mistake was made in the mechanism of the class-conscious bomb, it can easily be remedied. It will merely be necessary for a few of the comrades to fly over those streets or fields where the detonations were most terrific and cry out to the bones and shattered bodies, "Workers of the world, unite!"

After all, if their arms and legs are gone so are their chains. The whole thing has been a neat surgical operation. "Underneath the red star flag communize them with a Krag." Much blood has been spilled, and more still to be shed.

Wet grounds will prevent the Olympic games. But it is the peace of Stalin. It passes understanding.


We Want To Make Sure No Child's Stocking Goes Empty

Hang up your stockings all in a row,
And he'll fill them up from top to the toe.

Indeed he will not--not for a great number of children, at any rate, who ordinarily we call underprivileged but whom at Christmas time we call simply forgotten.

There's an unforgivable sadness in the word. You know how it was when you were children--the joy of looking forward to Christmas, the excitement of hanging your stockings from the mantel over the fireplace, the thrill of finding them stuffed, literally from top to toe, when you came rushing downstairs on Christmas morning.

You know how it is with you and your own children, how for weeks ahead you plan and scheme to give them a joyous Christmas, how you hide away their presents, how you want them to have everything possible. You are experiencing, you see, that most wonderful of all happiness--the happiness of making others happy. But can you safely limit it to your own small family circle? If one child is forgotten, is that not an offense to be charged up to the whole adult body of us, and therefore a subtraction from our happiness?

We think so, but in any case the joy and giving unto others is a special privilege in itself. And so we extend to each one of you the opportunity of contributing to The News Empty Stocking Fund. An equivalent in satisfaction is guaranteed to donors, but the important thing is that no child in the City of Charlotte shall hang up his stocking for Christmas Day in vain.

Add Rivers

Georgia Governor Joins Up With The Strong-Arm Boys

Governor Rivers of Georgia has joined the company of Huey Long, Eugene Talmadge and Olin Johnston. He didn't, indeed, bother with calling out the militia; merely, he sent around a couple of strong-arm men to throw W. Linton Miller, Chairman of Georgia's Highway Commission, out of his office, when the latter declined to accept dismissal at his hands on the ground that it was illegal.

As to the merits of this controversy, we have no opinion. The reason the Governor gave for dismissing Miller was that he was attempting to use his job to build up a gubernatorial machine for himself. That, of course, would be political treason to the Governor's own machine--since it is well known that the highway organization constitutes the backbone of any machine in any state. But in addition, there appears to have been a dispute over the Governor's diversion of $2,500,000 from the highway fund to pay the school teachers of the state.

However, the merits of the dispute don't matter. What matters is that Rivers, like his illustrious predecessors in the business, has resorted to extra-legal force in his determination to have his way at once--that this sort of thing is becoming increasingly common in the United States and particularly in the South. If Miller was holding the office illegally, there were plenty of perfectly legal and orderly ways to remove him. If he wasn't, then the move is rank usurpation of power. In no case is it defensible, for it adds up simply to the personal government of one man, rather than government by law.

Death Knell

Communist Party Is Through In This Part Of The World

The Communist Party in the United States may as well prepare to fold up its tent and imitate Longfellow's Arab. Its goose is cooked.

It was pretty well cooked already, after the making of the Russo-Nazi pact and the invasion of Poland. But Browder & Co. could still maintain that Russia had only acted to protect herself and to put a spoke in the German wheel--could and did go on maintaining that Russia's only interest in using her military forces was a quick peace throughout the world. But with the invasion of Finland, all that vanished forever. The only thing the Reds can now do--short of confessing that they have been dopes--is to profess to believe that Finland was actually menacing Russia.

They are already doing just that, but they will find few suckers left to believe them.

The fact probably is that the Communist Party never had any real prospects in the United States. But thousands of people, most of them of superior decency if not of superior hard-headedness, looked on Russia with a kindly eye--not because they were Communist or about to become Communist but because they thought that the Soviet regime was at least an improvement on that of the czars, and because they hoped vaguely that it might work out to a more humane sort of society than the world had hitherto known. All that is gone with the wind. The lunatic fringe is the only field left open to the Reds, and even there they are likely to be none too popular.

Do we think, then, that the Party should be suppressed by law? We do not. That it could be done within the framework of our Bill of Rights is not improbable. The right of free speech certainly includes the right to propagate Marxian notions. But it does not include the right of a foreign power to maintain a conspiratorial "cell" in this country for the creation of chaos and the wrecking of our Government--and there is no longer any reasonable doubt that that is what the Communist Party in the United States is.

Nevertheless, the suppression of anything calling itself a "party" is a dangerous precedent, and such a move is entirely unnecessary. The common sense of the people of the United States may be trusted to insure the decay and ultimate death of Mr. Browder's gang.

Adolf's A Piker

But The Reds Have Their Method In This Madness

The farcical aspect of this war reaches an all-time high when Mr. Molotoff advises the world that Russia will quit the League of Nations if the Finnish protest is heard, on the ground (1) that Russia is not at war with Finland, since she has "settled all questions" with the "Terijoki government"; and (2) that the League secretariat shows a lack of respect for Moscow.

Terijoki is somehow a fitting name. This "government" of course, consists of a handful of Red traitors in Finland who have been set up as a puppet regime behind the Russian lines.

Adolf Hitler seems to have overlooked that. Here he is fuming and sweating in an effort to convince himself, the world, and the British navy that words are more potent than the guns of the latter, when there is a perfectly easy and plain way to victory and peace. All you really have to do is to get Sir Oswald Mosley over behind the German lines and have him set up an "English government" there. Better still, he could use Norman Baillie-Stewart, English army officer convicted of treason, who, they say, is already behind the German lines, serving as a radio announcer. The latter would undoubtedly be willing, not only to make peace but also to sign over the British Empire, which promises to be highly unhealthy for him if it survives.

As for Paris, everyone knows that the quarter out around the great square of the Republic is swarming with Reds, and so it ought to be even easier to get rid of France.

The prize packet here, however, is the plaintive sob over a lack of respect for Moscow. The Red idea of what is entitled to respect seems to be: a government which (1) is headed by a former brigand; (2) has starved to death some 3,000,000 of its helpless subjects in order to sell goods abroad, and (3), after yelling for years for the necessity of a united front to put down aggressors, is presently engaged on the most ruthless and unjustifiable aggression of modern times.

Nevertheless, there is a method in this nonsense. It is designed to, and does, put England on a spot. Naturally enough, she does not want to drive Russia into Hitler's arms, does not want to fight her as Hitler's ally if there is any way to avoid it. And this is in effect neither more nor less than a tacit threat that if she does not halt the League hearing on Finland, does not herself acquiesce in the brazen fiction that the Terijoki stooges speak for Finland, she will be moving straight to the time when she will find Russia lined up against her beside the Nazis.

Framed Edition
[Return to Links-Page by Subject] [Return to Links-Page by Date] [Return to News--Framed Edition]
Links-Date -- Links-Subj.