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Show 111 Notes of a Newspaperman? Peter Donald forwards the story about three GIs just back from overseas over-seas who went into the automat and found that the only available table was one that was occupied by a spinsterish female. Wanting a little privacy, they decided to sit down, hoping by means of conversation to make her finish up and leave in a hurry . . . The first GI said: "Boy, life overseas sure was tough. I didn't have a bath in eight months." "Think that's bad?" said the second. sec-ond. "I couldn't even wash my hands In four weeks." "We were so busy," the third added, add-ed, "I couldn't change my underwear under-wear in five months." At that point, the old gal looked up and said: "Would one of you stinkers mind passing the salt?" The government has stopped horse racing in America. We wish it were as easy to stop America's Trojan horses. An American citizen of German Ger-man ancestry was walking down Powell Street, In San Francisco, when he was stopped by a soldier sol-dier who asked: "Can you tell me the way to Chinatown?" . . . He replied: "Yes, of course, it is two blocks over and two blocks to the left, but you don't want to go there because you are a Jap" . . . The soldier replied: re-plied: "And you are a German" . . . The citizen said: "How did you know?" . . . The soldier replied: "I know because I've killed a lot of them the last two months in Italy and I'm on my way home to Seattle" . . . The citizen of German ancestry looked at the uniform of the soldier sol-dier and saw on it a Presidential citation, the Purple Heart and a few other campaign ribbons. Telling this story about him-- him-- self, he said: "Boy, was I embarrassed! em-barrassed! The soldier was of Japanese ancestry and a member mem-ber of the famous 100th Infantry Battalion!" Edward Stettinius, who is certainly certain-ly the most modest and democratic of our Secretaries of State, used to visit the Broadway night clubs occasionally occa-sionally a few years ago. One night he went into the old Paradise with a male companion . . . Headwaiter Albert Berryman scanned them with an appraising and unrecognizing eye . . . "Hello, Albert," said Stettinius, Stettin-ius, "don't you remember me?" "Oh, yes," fibbed Albert (trying to place the man), as he showed him to a none-too-good table. The part I like is that Stettinius (who was then only chairman of U. S. Steel) knew headwaiter Albert, but Albert didn't know him! Ernest Hemingway went to Chicago Chi-cago years ago after working in Kansas City. He had lived in Oak Park, 111., and was an old schoolmate school-mate of Ted Tod's, now working for Warners' ... At the time, Tod was working for the Chicago Herald-Examiner as a reporter, and Hemingway Heming-way hoped Tod would try to get him a job on the paper . . . Tod went in to speak to Frank Carson, the city editor. He told him all about Hemingway Hem-ingway what a good writer he was . . . He said: "He hasn't worked in Chicago, but he knows it, knows names, etc." . . . Carson looked up and ho-humm'd: "Does he know any Chicago coppers?" . . . "No," said Tod . . . "Well, I don't care how good a writer he is," replied Carson. "Our reporters have to know the Chicago coppers" ... So Hemingway Heming-way didn't get the job. Instead he went to Canada worked on a Toronto To-ronto paper and from there started his climb. If it hadn't been for his not knowing know-ing any Chicago policemen, Hemingway Heming-way might still be working on the Chicago paper. All . this talk of what to do with Germany and, of course, it is more than talk, it is a grave, great problem reminds me of this tale . . . An apostle of conciliation once asked the late Georges Clemenceau if his hatred of the Germans was based on knowledge. "Have yon ever been to Germany?" he inquired. in-quired. "No, Monsieur," replied the Tiger, "I have not been to Germany. Ger-many. But twice in my lifetime the Germans have been to France." This isn't as good as the "West-inghouse "West-inghouse I'm westing" gag but it's going the rounds among the icky set and makes me ick: "We're broom-mates. We sweep together. Dust us two." It happened at an army training camp, reports Irving Hoffman. The sergeant had twenty recruits lined up for fatigue duty . . . They were not as energetic as the sergeant thought they should be ... So he tried to cure them . . . "I've got a nice easy job for the laziest man present," he barked. "Will the laziest lazi-est man raise his right hand?" . . Nineteen men raised their right paws . . . "Why don't you raise your hand?" inquired the sergeant of the 20th lad. "Too much trouble," he drawled. |