Judge — October 14, 1922 — page 15: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ughton EDITORIAL Scrapping, But Not of Battleships A if he will search his mind with diligence, will find tucked away in some forgotten corner under cobwebs a memory of the conference we refer to, the one that was to make war too remote took place, treaties w YEAR ago the world was agog with preparation for the fortheoming conference in Washington. ‘The reader, The confere in a spirit of exaltation | (ually ratified by the United Sta It seems like six or seven for further worry. prepare quarter of the and ¢ Senate only six or seven months ago. day the world is not so much agog as aghast with prep- conference—at the And what has become of those % One learns with a shock of surprise—they have heen so long out of mind—that bee: ds Thaly havent ratified them they have never been put in effe om for war, or another moment of writing it is not sure which, treaties. wuse France There has been no scrapping of battleships by us or anyone And (we are told) now that the Near Yeast is fermenting, there may never be. they forgot to invite Kemal to the W he has probably You se hington conference, and whether deliberately or not ditched the whole party. (We are not referring now to the Republican Party, Mr. Hughes. Why so touchy?) Bachelors of Brains {T us suppose for a moment that the gods had granted President’ Hopkins’s wish and only the intellectual aristocracy of the land were clamoring at the gates of Dartmouth College. Would he welcome them? The scene is the campus at Hanover, basking in September and an ivy-clad hall filled with Freshmen gathered for the President's greeting to their class (this is intended to be nol an accurate but a generic picture). Over at one side of the room is an embodiment of Abe Lincoln swapping with another rube who looks strangely like Mark Twa They're chewing tobacco and aiming with marvelous accur at the open window, and they're not paying the slightest atte tion to the President’s address. And who's that roughneck nearby slipping his flask to the hunch around him and roaring out loud in the President's face? Whitman, you say? The boys already call him Walt, and they haven’t known him a day? Gosh, he’s actually reciting something! If you poke your head out of the window on this side you'll see a little group showing shirt slec under the hood of a Rolls Royce. The car evidently belongs toa wealthy student; it bears the initials, G.W., and a coat of s. The ing in nasal undertones. They haven't even bothered to go inside and insult the President, but in registering they gave the names of Wright, Ford and Edison. pricks, and suspenders peering IUs a moth a whole roomful of untamed m. and President Hopkins is wondering how on earth he and his crew 13 He , as at faculty can survive the next four years in their company. does well to wonder. As a matter of fact no colle; present constituted, could possibly control, morally or intellee- tually, a student body composed solely of the aristocracy of brains. faculty resign or become au ate and its One class of the bourgeoisie of Its curriculum would crack and disinteg: nstorms. or two of the aristocracy in a | brains is about all the academic harness can hold. None of the men who bore the famous names we have used attended college. But the colleges have so irreverently attended them. *Tenshun! HE recent de eof the W, listed man need not salute within the confines of a mil; reservation, or wishes to s all the ks of libe The insistence upon the salute everywhere and on Department that an en- 1 officer unless he meets him address him, | carma lity and common sense, all occasions during the War developed the right muscles of 4,000,000 doughboys at the expense of their dis- positions, and soured officers as well. A tendency to open the palm as it descended past the nose crept into the gesture and the jerk downward simply emphasized a muttered epithet. JupGe salutes the solution. T quoting international law to the b shoulder The Limit HE Onward is a low, and very likely a rakish, craft, heavy with Diesel engines, whose talented. skipper re- cently outwitted the Prohibition Navy. He did so by arding officer and training his searchlight on the Union Jack, illicitly flying at his stern, The fact that he was bluffing and that he eseaped amid the applause and horse laughter of the multitude does not prevent » whilom activities nile limit. the incident from throwing into high relief th of the Prohibition Navy beyond the three Wayne B. Whee idment to the nations permitting search and seizure ree-mile limit. Tt is like that amendment to the Bill of Rights he tried so hard to put into effeet, permitting nt, in the home. Juve has since announced to the world an am search and seizure. without a wa is no friend of bootlegging and booze-smuggling. but he believes the integrity of the Bill of Rights and of international law of more importance to America and Americans than the demands of prohibition enforcement. And he rejoices, therefore, that first Great Britain and now the Administra seem inclined to question Mr, Wheeler's authority. If Great Britain is looking for pointers we advise her to om in Washington consult Mr. Lasker, whose ships enjoy such a splendid immunity from the attentions of the All Highest. | ecepted with complacency if only because it puts an end to the hero worship of the Frenchman that like a flood last their mos or behavic they would Have a Smoke, Georges HE result of the Siki-Carpentier encounter may be r swept a large portion of our intelligentsia from Carpentier ¥ r so supernaturally brilliant as a boxe He which champion prize-fighters are not conspicuous, and the novelty of the combination drove some of our nobler fight fans, hungering like Merton for the better things, fairly cuckoo. Now that poor Georges’ fatal beauty and, more important still, the legend of his knightliness, have been so badly mussed by a hard, black fist, it is time to be honest with oursc ther he nor the prize ring should have been so outrag complimented in the thoughts of otherwise sane and intelligent rings. ‘as never so godlike in appearance as ad charm, something fo ad us believe. ously persons. ‘The prize ring, when honestly conducted, is the one modern institution in which brute force, coupled with a primi- tive order of cunning, may still triumph, and as such un- doubtedly it has its place. But as a training school for heroes— why Hollywood, beside it, becomes a super West Point.