10
WANDERERS
THE OTHER HALF
By John Worby
(Dent, 8. d.j
W
LOOSE END
Jy Neal Burman (Burker, 78, 6d.}
HEN they were very young bath John Worby. and Neal Harman determined that they would see the world-but John Worby wanted to see the underworld as well.
"One half of the world doesn't know how the other half lives," he reminds us on the title page, and then proceeds to make quite certain that the gaps in our knowledge are filled. An orphanage boy," no one seems to have liked young John. He was knocked, if not from pillar to post, from foster-parents to foster-parents, unul on a farm in Canada, no finally rebelled and took to the rond.
Then onward his life was largely among gangelers and griddlers, hoboer and swag women, bulls and spivar all of which terms the interested wik fnd defined in an admirably explana- tory glossary.
From Canada. Jalin Worby (aged sixteen) crossed the border into the United States as "nephew" to n de- generate American cher, From him John stole a 60-dollar bill, which Another hoho, in turn, promptly stole from him,
☆
But that was only a mild beginning. Before he was deported back to Britain, thila surpring young mau had, in his own curiofushion, thoroughly ox- plared the seamy skle of the United States: alternating between Jall, jump-- ing Freight trains, lazing in "La hobo' paradise" and jail again.
It is an enthralling, if sometimes sor- did, story, Int John Worby han keen. an much of the "other half" in lits Twenty-five years that to pick up Loose End in na refreshing as % sum-. mer shower.
Mr. Harman had a home life, but it was us unfortunate an Mr. Worby's orphanage existence. Frustrated as n child, he becaine perilously near what the Colonel Bilmps would call a soelai
Dall
*
Ite, too, gravitated to the United Blaten (though armed with a letter of eredit for £200), and 'he, ton, soon found himself in the company of gang- sters, though they were not the braid that Mr. Worby knew.
Pertips It 13 Mr. Harman's capacity for good writing that smoothes over the ugly corner. Certainly he de scribes a long series of alarms and ex- cursions with an easy-going objec tivity not common to the
liney."
And, whether he is hiding from gun- men on New York teniement roofs or making hims. In Burma or trapping lions in Africa, he retains a sense of humour that makes this more thanı Just another entertaining book.
9. E. R. W.
THE HONGKONG TELEGRAPH. WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 24,
BOOKS
OF THE WEEK
Edited by Roger Pippett
W
PEASANTRY
FAMINE
By Liam O'Flaherty (Goliqncs, 88, td.)”
HEREVER he is Mr. O'Flaherty is always worth latening to, always a broth of a boy. But, on his own ground, ho`la much more than that: ha. becomes, in the best sense of the word, sensational. One of the really significant authors of our time.
Take this long and terrible story, perhaps the most ambitious he has written. A family of peasants in a little Irish valley is caught by the famine of the Hungry Fortles of last century. But "caught" is not Mr. O'Flaherty's real right word....
THE SHAME OF IT ALL
THE PACE OF THE ON
"K
Dy Marjorie Juta (Cónstable, 103, GIÍ.)
'ROOJEN” we used to call him in days that one is 'still ashamed to remen1- ber: the ugly, old man with the fringe-beard and the Ill-fitting top hat was the theme of countles jokes, the source of endless fun for British patriotism,
br
Except in the dark days" tween Magersfontein and Paardeburg, when amusement turned to anger.
and defent had to be excused by charging "Kraofer" and his Borrs with every viiialty conceivable.
Bo loaihsome were we I was n schoolboy of those days) that eren Kipling had to rebuke us for "killing Kriger with our mouths,” But wr went gaily on. Exquisitely funny we were.
The slame of it all comes back u ono rends Marjorie Juta's The Pace of
12
the Oz, which is the story of Paul Kruger's fo-the first full-length Ille of him in Engilsin.
Nine years old was young Paul Kruger when his family, with all their possesalons in the ox-wagons, act out from the farm near Colesberg, where they had lived for a century, on the Great Trek,, to and new land where they might settle-free from the rule of tho British.
Who was right and who was wrong in the quarrels and controversics of those days ar what indeed was "right."
what "wrong" are today matters for the hatarini. And Miss Juta is no detached historian but an enthusiastic
ographer, Dut let that pass.
For the boy Kruger, leading the long span of oxen, the hue was simple enough. His people were seeking free- dom to lead their own lives. They were as the Chosen People flying from Egypt at the command of the Lord.
They found a new home across, the
OUR BRITISH CROSSWORDS
2
110
19
19
$121
·
Voni, and there young Kruger grow Lo manhood. 11o wan stronger even then than his follows. He was swifter of foot than a native runner: a superb horseman: a magnificent shot; a fear-. less llum hunter whose exploits are a
зака
But also he was a serious man, deeply religious, for whom hin Diblo was the direct voice of God, to ke consulted before every decision: a man. of the Cromwelllary stamp. Inevitably he became a lender among his people. At dirty-five he was Commandant- General of the tiny Republic.
The long tragic struggle was only beginning. The exodus hind freed the people. But the new Pharnoh would not let them go. Again the real story is complex: but to Kruger simple. Tho Brith were seeking to destroy, his task was to defend, the freedom of his folk.
Each side passionately believed that It was right. Each side believed in 11s destiny. Cecil Rhodes summed up his
· doctrine. His dream was the "further- ance of the British Empire, the bring- ing of the whole civilised world under British rule." Therefore, as an instal- ment, all South Africa.
11:00
No, the Kilmartins and their neigh- bourn are ruined, starved, beaten and finally overwhelmed. They Gre stricken by Nature-and by their fellow-men. Even the sympathy and
the charity that now sluggishly to- wards. Ultem are' curdled by greed and prejudice and mischianer and incom petence.
There is no hope for the old, al- though they will struggle pitifully to the end. And only a gliminering for the young. If they are miraculoanly fortunate, there may be a ship waiting in the bay: they may escape that way -la America.
Mr. O'Flaherty makes that "mny assume almost unbearable proportions. Tragedy, like the blight itself, alls the sky and blo's out the sun.
Perfectly timed and spaced, mag- nificently sustained and powerfully written that is Famine. The sharp est stone Mr. OTlaherty has shot from his sling for many a day.
R. P.
HERO?
1937.
Belemish Internaitien? Ponzantij
Marlemre,
DIETRICH
• Charles
BOYER
"GARDEN
OF ALLAH
BYNOTED OF Parcading. CHAIZERO
Domini Enjumon, beautiful and wealthy tourist, visiting the di- gerian desert, le alternately at- tracted and frightened by the mysterious Borla Androvsky, whom she meets thore, Her friends, Gount Anicant 避防培 Father Roubior, dislike the man and warn her against him, but she has fallen in love, Dóminé and Doria are married by the reluctant Father Roubler, and go for their honeymoon into the ilcaert.
#
Chapter Five
DAVID O.SELZNICK Spice_shes UNITED SOTIOTA,
where before, but he seemed sati fled with Boris explanation that it was impossibia, After dianer, Do mini, left the two men together and fulfiling her function as hos | toen, was on her way to and how de Trevignade men wore faring an Batouch "entered into the tent with a bottin of liquor for Boria and da Trevignan. It was a raro cordial, he explained, onllod Lagarine.
Domini enw to the soldiers wants, even to the extent of ainging with them. They were a morry lot attor their escape from death, and sho was enjoying herself in their com- pany when, looking up, she saw da Trevignan walking toward them. There was a strange look on his £300.
"Good night, Madame," he said For weeks the enmyan wound it with cold politeness, and then, to way slowly among the sand dunce the sergeant, in a voleo Ike the of the bundless Sahara. No pur cracking of a whip, "Bergeant, re pons, no destination controlled their your mon together. We marcis at Journity. Bone days they would ride | dawn!" And "boforo Domini could along in the palanquin, close to recover from her surprise, he dis each other. On others they would appeared into the night. She look ride or on their homes; away fromed after him a moment, then ran the caravan. When a place appealed toward the tent in which Boris re to them, they would spend a day mained alone. or two there,
She took no heed of the broken One day tiny came to the Tower liqueur bottle and glasses on the of Mogar, a ruin left over from table. Boria was pacing up and Bomoant Saracen civilization. down in the sleeping quarters of tho There were supposed to be gazelles tent, and she ran to him. in the vicinity, and Boris decided to spend a day trying his luck at the net, while Domini rested at donly?” the canip.
"Boris, what is it? Why did Mon- sleur de Trevignac go away so sud-
"Domin!, do you caro whether ho When he did not return by night is hare or gone? Do you want any-
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124
1 A garter, a cook or a pussyfool
(two words, 4, 6),
Yes, it sounds like 31.
9 This is able to carry one's bag
any distance.
41-Here in Ireland they give a neat
finish to a bad le.
12 To be seen in Irun to-day.
13 Blow! There's Scot mixed up
in it.
14 Look closely at it, in u navvy's
17 You may regard this as evidence
of carelessness.
19 Put in to finish more than once. 20 Bath was the final destination
of this Frenchman.
21 Lone ram (anagram).
Exeter.
23 In the river at Exet
24 The want is very apparent in
the case of a Negro.
20 The Crossworders' pocket-case. 29 Although it might be A.1. with
banks, you won't find this plant
in one.
30 Rock in re idlet.
31. Note the similarity to 6. 32 A very simple, word though i
might be taken as merely neat.
DOWN
2 Tying-wood up in heather. 3 Goes out.
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7 Charneter in "King Henry IV." *
(two words).
8 Can't be passed on.
10 The fool comes up in a sticky
mess.
15 The drink for n lawn tennis
player?
10 The Cockney's arms.
18 Tickle and wind up' after time, 20 A show that always takes the
money in.
22 What could be neater?
25 Unnatural food to find in a
crocodile.
27 If I tell you it's a little island,"
It's all les.
28 The disaster that was due to
the abandonment of the trip.
Yesterday's Solution
DISCREPAN
#DELEN UE FLUENT TOX
Chamberlain, Milner, the rest of them, thought much the siune, if they did not
volco their thoughts frankly. All South Africa must be brought under British rufe. Kruger, as determined, as convinced as they, meant that it should not.
In October, 1000, he left the Trans- vani, a thirty-six years later Halle Selassie was to leave Abyssinin-la appeal to the civilised world to inters vene to save the independence of a tiny State overwhelmed by a powerful neighbour. He met the same fate.
For nearly two years ils Boers fought on: then came the surrender. "Gud does not forsake Hla people, even though it may appear so," said Paul."
He might have returned; but he would not. His wife was dead. Tho Union Jack New in Pretoria. He pre- ferred to nwalt denth in Switzerland. "Born under the British flag, I shall not dle thereunder." But in his last message to his people there was no bitterness.
The future was one which neither Kruger nor Rhodes, nor Milner nor Chamberlain, foresaw, a future which made mockery of their, long struggle for mastery.
Looking back. "how sad and bad and mad it seems." Thero was in alt those protagonists no real wisdom. But in Paul Kriger there was, I not great wisdom, at least a great herole quality. Few 'governing men of our days have been more worthy of respect than "old Kroojer."
W. N. E.
A
MINE IS THE KINGDOM By Jane Gilter
Collies, 8s. Gd.)
NASTY, snuffling, disagree- able, mean, undersized cren- ture, to judge from his por- traits-it is difficult to make a -sympathetic pleture of James I, King of England and Scotland. Impossible to make a romantle hero of him, though you can admit he had his points.
But Miss Oliver has made him her hero, and, nkhough she has not managed to make him likeable, she does make you realise it was not his fault that he was already old and miserable and unhealthy when, at forty, le succeeded Queen Elizabeth and united the two thrones.
He was, as he complained, persecuted even before his birth, when Rizzio was murdered before the
eyes of his mother, Mary, Queen of Boots, Bepn- rated from her, neglected in child- hood, he spent his boyhood in captiv ity while the complicated palities of the lime swirled, about him.
An impotent king, with the Kirk as unruly as the Lords, an unhappy hus- band and a slekly man-he gave his mind to tortuous statecraft, more tor tuous demonology, and still more tor- tuous private revenge.
Miss Oliver has laboured carefully and well to present the man in the making against a background which is in places uncomfortably vivid.
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"We are a French patrol- lost in the desert for three days," he gasped. "Have you waler for us — a bite to eat?" fall, Domini had Batouch light a one to break in upon our lives? torch which abe herself took up on Aren't we happler alone?" the tower in order to direct him to the camp. She waved it back and forth, but heard no answering call Then in the darkness below her she Boomed to see not one, but coveral shadowy forma. Valcen spoke, and they sounded like the voices of mod- men "It's not possiblet it did, 10 must be a light"Fool, shut up,
oge."
"Boris, you didn't let him soo that you wanted him to go? Aftor his escape from death? It would have been inhuman.”
"Perhaps my love for you might oven make te that, Domini. And it know why it did —–—– would you hate me for it? Could
there's nothing there's a mithing. Domini
you could you hate me for any
Domini called down, “Who is It? "No. I could never hate you -- now. But why don't you share your sorrow with me? Those dark pisos Yau once spoke of -- they can't re- main dark forever."
Who are you?"
The sound of Domint's voice seemed to act like maglo on the group of men. As she descended the stops of the tower to meet them with the torch still in her hand, they hurried toward her. Flest of tham was a young French officer in the uniform of à Captain of the Spahia. He was evidently young and probably handsome, but his face was covered with a four or five days' beard and ho was vory grimy, Is looked at Domini as if he did not bellovo in hor reality. At last he seemed to realize it was not n dream
“Madame" ho goaned, "It seemed impossible that anyoze – pardon - you must think us crazy. We are a French patrol, Madame, lost in the desert for three dayn. Madame, for give me my men are hungry and oxhausted. Have you water for us
abite to eat?"
• "Of coume,” said Domini. "Over there in the camp."
The men acted as if they could hardly believe their good fortune. The officer Instructed his sergeant, to take the men to the eamp_at onco. Then he turned back to Do mini.
Our love happy." Boris plond- ed. "Can't we leave it as it is?"
Dominini was persistent. “You must tell me '— you must
"No, no, I'll keep your love, I'll keep it!****
12
"Nothing can destroy our love, Boris, But my happincas, our happi- neas -- that is what can never be complete until you give me your truth."
Borta looked at her a moment, sensed the depth of fooling in ber eyes. Then he turned away and walked out into the night,
Do Trovignao and he mon left at dawn. Domini was standing outakin the tent as they passed, but the agonized question in her eyes found no response In the young officer, who looked at her with borror, and he made the sign of the Cross na ho left Domini,
A pall of gloom seemed to have descended over the camp during the days that, followed, Boris was gyldently engaged in a terrible struggle within himook, and Domini watched him, in alience, wondering,
"Madame, will you permit me fearing. my name is de Trevignac."
I am Madame Androvsky, Oh, pardon me, I see my husband com- ing. If you'll excuse me I'll go and meet him. We shall be very happy If you'll dine with us, Monsieur de Trovignas"
“With pleasure, Madame.” Domini told Borks of the visitor's arrival and then summoned Ba- touch in order to prepare as sump" tuous ropast as was possible In the middle of the denart,
Balouch was more than equal to the occasion, producing many arti cles which even: Domsat hnd not known they had with them. He chatted merrily to her as he fixed the table.
Then, one day, Domini heard the sound of horses' hoofs outside and men diemounting. She ran out of the tent to son Count Antearl, ao- companied by his usual retinue, talking to Batouch. He looked dil- forent, she thought. There WAR BOMB- thing sterner and harder about hla mouth, and the usual lightnam was gone from his manner. Neverthe few, he greeted her as affusively us aho did him.
"I hope your finding us isn't no eldental” cho said.
"No. I Intended to find you. was on the way to Amaro mot young Franch officer.”
"Manelnur de Trevignao?" Antoo- ņi nodded. Domini know then that thern won omo deep purpose in **You see, Madamo that's the dif- thin visit, but Antrosí did not seem ference between Hadj and myself. to want to speak of it now. Borks He would never have thought of came up, and the two men shook bringing all these lovely things--| hands, not too cordially, the chairs, the glassware, the silver After dinnor that night, as An- the tables-But I know we would tronl was helping himself to a glave have guesta and so hero you arelor Benedicilno, he mentioned cas In Ben-Mora, people say, Batouch ually, "You know, there's
one is the perfect housewifel' *
Houeur I'm very fond of-I haven't
Do Travignac, shaved and neatly seen it in years. It's called Lagar drassod, looked a different mannino." Boris started at the namo. Everything went smoothly excopt
for the moment of de Travigṇnd'à Introduction to Boris. The officer though the had soon his host some-!
(To do continued.)'
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