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34 WINNETKA TALK May 26, 1928 W beautifying spots in the respective com- INNETKA TALK munities that are now somewhat bare and SHORE LINES ISSUED SATURDAY OF EACH WEEK by LLOYD HOLLISTER, INC. 564 Lincoln Ave., Winnetka, Ill Chicago office: 6 N. Michigan Ave. Tel. State 6326 Telephone........... Winnetka 2000 or Wilmette 4300 SUBSCRIPTION PRICE.............. $2.00 A YEAR All communications must be accompanied by the name and address of the writer. Articles for pub- lication must reach the editor by Thursday noon to insure appearance in current issue. Resolutions of condolence, cards of thanks, obitu- aries, notices of entertainments or other affairs where an admittance charge is published, will be charged at regular advertising rates. ODE How sleep the brave who sink to rest By all their country's wishes blest! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their ballowed mold, She there shall find a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung, By forms unseen their dirge is sung; T here Honour comes, a pilgrim grey, To bless the turf that wraps their clay; And Freedom shall awhile repair To dwell a weeping hermit there. --WILLIAM COLLINS Next Wednesday is Memorial Day. It used to be called Decoration Day, but that was an inappropriate name, suggesting as it did an occasion when soldiers' graves were merely to be beautified by G flowers. The deeper significance of the day did not appear in this former name. No person who had not been told would have guessed that May 30 was dedicated to the memory of Ameri- ca's fighting patriots. But the meaning of the term Memorial Day is obvious. It is a memorial to those of our soldiers who have died and been laid to rest not in a cemetery but in a mem- orial garden. The name of the day calls on every one of us to remember with grati- tude those who fought for our freedom from oppression. Flowers have come to be the accepted language of our gratitude on Memorial Day. Their fragrance and beauty are a token of our sincere thankfulness. The mounds under which the soldiers are sleep- ing their last long sleep lose on this one day of the year their sober mantle of green and take on a fresh loveliness such as only living flowers possess. _ As the great war fades into history there is increasing need for every American citi- zen, present and future, to revive in loving memory the deeds of our veterans, dead and living. The children especially should be taught the sacredness of Memorial Day. Memorial Day, May 30 Every year in our North Shore towns a certain May day is set aside as a garden market day. The day this year is-Saturday, May 26, in both Annual Garden Wilmette and Win- Mark netka. Such a day arkets was held in Evans- ton on Saturday, May 19. Not only flowers are displayed and sold at these garden markets, but also foods of various kinds, pottery and glassware, gar- den equipment, and balloons. Luncheon is served, and arrangements are made for spending all day at the market. As usual the proceeds will be used in unattractive. For example, the funds re- sulting from last year's garden market in Winnetka have gone far towards rendering the grounds around the public library pleasing to the eye of the passer-by. Of all the big voting percentages heaped up in the recent April primaries Kenilworth piled up the biggest--83%. In 1926 Kenil- worth's percentage was 47, only a \ittle more than half of the 1928 showing. Doubtless the domi- nant cause of this recent tremendous vote was the indignation of the North Shore citizens against the Crowe-Thompson po- litical ring. The events leading up to and occurring immediately before the day of the primaries aroused the voters to a pitch of hostility against graft and crime that swept even the most indifferent to the polls. But there was another powerful cause of the record vote, namely, the ac- tivity of the Local Leagues of Women Voters. No one who has in the past few years become acquainted with the activity of these leagues. their high ambitions, their thoroughness, their persistence, their pa- tience, their skill, can doubt that they had much to do with rolling up such a big pri- mary vote. Kenilworth came first with a record of 83% of her voters at the primary polls. Win- netka came second with a percentage of 81. Having won this contest, Kenilworth re- ceived the Izaak Walton American flag. If this village receives the flag in the fall elec- tions she will keep it permanently. There is every indication of a great crowd at the polls. May the best village win! Big Voting Percentages President Mason of the University of Chicago resigns as head of that institution to become head of the scientific research work sponsored by the Rockefeller Foundation. Naturally he is enthusias- tic about the possibilities involved in his new work. Backed by a fund of over $600,000,000 to expend on undertakings whose sole object is the benefiting of humanity, how can any- one connected with this important organi- zation be other than enthusiastic and hope- ful? The statement of the aim and the ac- tivities of the Rockefeller Institution tempts one to imagine what would happen to this vast sum of money if it were placed where politicians instead of scientists could lay their hands upon it. What would the crowd defeated at the April primaries have done if placed within reaching distance of $600,000,000?7 The answer is easy. And yet both politicians and scientists are human beings with much the same physical equipment. As children they prob- ably looked much alike. The difference very likely began after they had completed their high school courses. When manhood was reached what a gap there was between the two groups. In aims how diametrically opposed! We dream of the day when politics will be so scientific that money will be regarded as only a means of achieving social welfare. Science and Politics Remember that Poppy Day comes next Monday, May 28. Pay well for your poppy and remember the veterans, your comrades. IL N'Y A PAS LA MORTE For those who are not with us here to-day We wreathe in flowers the dust whence they Have been reclaimed. He is not dead Whom we have known. 0, do not think he lies asleep In deep moist earth, But forward gone to new life Glorified, immeasurable rebirth. The things he did we do, So grown a part of us. We often think The things he thought about and said. He is not with us here, But O, he is not dead. --Rebecca Anthony Have One on the House, Boys Mr. Yellowley's more or less alert minions swooped down upon the north shore last Saturday night shortly after some particularly vigilant villager had dispatched word to the effect that there were strange goin's on in the new store just opened by Al Wolff and his partner Ernie Griffis. Arriving in due time, after greeting a few dozen of the beer flat dwellers on the north side (just by way of bolstering their annoyed spirits) the expert testers charged with a solid, albeit slightly wavering front and there, right in the middle of their new store, in full view of all who chanced to pass that way, they found Al and Ernie opening a brand new keg of ten- penny nails. Women in Politics And while were in the mood, mention should be made of the Northwestern co-eds who are determined to beat friend Al (not Wolff) by elect- ing Nick (not the Greek nor Longworth), thereby effecting a simple scheme of keeping the wet banner waving high and with the same stroke save the Repyblican party. Add--Politics It is not improbable that the G. O. P. will employ the Flood Control weapon in their effort to trounce friend Al Fil an' Me Go Fishin' I got a letter the other day From my friend Phil who wrote to say That rummagin' 'round through a lot o' junk, Stored away in a box er some old trunk Up in the attic where it orin't to be, He'd found his tackle an' thought of me. Now Phil only writes 'bout once a year An' when he writes twice I get an idear That he's workin' too hard; an' I know about What he's hintin' at; so I ask him out To spend a few days--just what he's wishin', Aw we spend the time at restin' an fishin'. We light our pipes, an' I call my dog Aw set out fer the crick where a fallen log Is stickin' 'way out in the midst of the stream, Aw' bass aw crappies jest glisten an' gleam In that heavenly mixture of sun an' shadder, An' we fish "bout as hard as if we had ter. Er perhaps we all git in my old boat, Push her out in the stream an' let 'er float, Fast er slow er how she will So long's I cn smoke an' jest set still; Phil in one end aw' my dog in the other; Me at the oars, aw' no room fer another. Phil aw' my dog are 'nough fer me When fishin' er huntin', for they don't be Allus talkin' er barkin', when we're out 'Less there's somethin' worth talkin' er barkin' about; There's many a thing said better in smoke Than the finest words that's ever been spoke. Aw I jest set an' smoke aw' fish, An' maybe doze, an' almost wish That nothin'll bite--an' nothin' does 'Cept an ornery skecter with an ornery buzz; Aw' I wake up an' see the sun has set, Aw it's time to go home, an' we do, you bet. --D. K. Grant The Old Plug ventures the guess that the folks who bet on Dowagiac in the recent Churchill Downs canter must have been armed with Michi- gan bankrolls. Come to think of it, D. K., it is most time for Fil"s vacation. He ain't had none since the first o' May, or thereabout. --MIQUE.