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Original scanned October 1, 2002. Reduced print - for full-sized print, see Davis Box 163, Folder 12 

[[underlined]] District Affairs [[/underlined]]
Large Field Bidding for Camalier Post 
By Richard L. Lyon
[image - head shot photo of man, captioned LYONS]]

LOCAL POLS are starting to make winter buck on the [[??]] District Commissioner Derby.

At the end of May, Commissioner Renah F. Camalier's three-year term runs out. Meanwhile, there will be as much guessing - and bad guessing - on who will win his place as on the Kentucky Derby, which takes place about the same time.

One bet looks good. Camalier won't be reappointed.

A Democratic hangover from the Truman Administration, Commissioner Camalier made no friends at the White House by refusing to resign when the Administration changed in 1953. The White House is still sore about it.

Camalier was asked point blank by a White House emissary to quit early in 1953, so President Eisenhower could make two new appointments. He refused. One report is he would have accepted a judgeship, but none was available.

CAMALIER WANTS one more term badly. He wants to follow through on the health and welfare projects he has made his principal job. He feels it would take a new man half his term to learn the city's needs.

But barring some remarkable maeuver, there'll be a new face at the District Building. And because of that, candidates' hats are already dropping into the ring. Some are old standbys, but there are some new ones.

One new one is that of former Sen. Harry P. Cain, a one-term Republican from the State of Washington, who lost his post in 1952. He then took a job on the Subversive Activities Control Board here.

Cain was mayor of Tacoma at 34, and he took a lively interest in District Affairs while on the Senate District Committee. His name has been mentioned by friends who reportedly learned he would be available for appointment as a District Commissioner.

ONE TROUBLE with Cain's candidacy - and it should be a fatal one - is that he doesn't meet the one legal requirement for the job - residence in the District of Columbia.

The District Code says the two civilian members of the Board of Commissioners must have been "actual residents of the District for three years next before their appointment and have, during that period, claimed residence nowhere else."

Cain must have claimed residence in the State of Washington while representing it in the Senate as recently as two years ago.

Another new name suggested for Camalier's post is William N. McLeod, Jr., longtime clerk of the House District Committee. Although he is a Democrat, McLeod gets along with Republicans well enough to have held onto his committee job these last two years. A South Carolinian, age 47, he knows a lot of people, including Presidential Assistant Sherman Adams.

CLOSER TO HOME, the list of possible entries includes Raymond Dickey and Francis J. Kane.

Dickey, counsel for the United States Information Agency, was in the running two years ago when Samuel Spencer replaced F. Joseph Donohue as chairman of the Board of Commissioners.

Kane, president of the Board of Trade and head of a transfer company, was mentioned for the job Donohue got in 1952.

District Budget Officer Walter L. Fowler has always wanted the job. A long-time city official, he has forgot more about the District government than most Commissioners ever learn. But he was opposed by some in 1952 as a penny-pincher, and he was criticized by Negro groups. His strongest supporter then was Senate District Committee Chairman Francis Case (R-S. Dak.), who is leaving the committee.

Some District medical circles would prefer a doctor for the post, as one of Camalier's big jobs is supervising public health and hospitals. And there also has been a suggestion for appointment of a Negro member.

The list will grow and change before Derby Day.

[[underlined]] Virginia Affairs [[/underlined]]
Present Political Air Is Pro-Stevenson
By Benjamin Muse
[[image - head shot photo of man, captioned MUSE]]

RELATIONS BETWEEN the Democratic Party of Virginia and the national Democratic Party are more cordial just now than they had been for many years. In fact, nothing like the present [[??]] and light has been noted since the early years of the New Deal.

To be sure, there is no Democratic Administration in Washington to criticize. It is notable, however, that the wide recognition of Adlai Stevenson as the national Party leader and the probably 1956 candidate for President has aroused no anti-Stevenson talk among Virginia Democrats, many of whom deserted Stevenson for General Eisenhower in 1952.

Virginia Democratic leaders are uttering little criticism even of Republicans (except McCarthy). They have long been friendly to President Eisenhower.

THIS LACK OF an outlet for their natural talent for fulmination may have had something to do with the amount of vitriol that has been poured out in Virginia upon the United States Supreme Court since the latter's decision against school segregation. The high court has replaced former President Truman as the chief target for the blasts of Virginia politicians.

In addition to the current absence of controversy, a positive [[??]] has been taking place in a quiet way between some Virginia and national Democratic Party leaders. The most active promoters of the newfound harmony have been two Virginia Democrats who slugged away at each other through a fierce contest for the Governorship in the Democratic primary of 1949: Former Gov. John S. Battle and the anti-organization leader, Francis Pickens Miller.

An early olive branch from the Democratic National Committee was the appointment of Battle, hero of the successful rebellion against the so-called "loyalty pledge" at the 1952 Democratic National Convention, to serve on the special committee to recommend rules for the 1956 national convention. 

Battle has found his associates on the committee  surprisingly congenial, and he is convinced that the issue of a "loyalty pledge" is dead and buried.

AFTER HIS SPECTACULAR fight against the requirement of a pledge of Party loyalty, Battle proved in fact a loyal supporter of the Party's nominee in the 1952 campaign.

He represented Virginia Democrats at the recent sessions of the national committee in New Orleans, carrying proxies from the State's national committeeman and committeewoman. In the election of a national chairman, he cast the Virginia vote for pro-Stevenson Paul M. Butler.

"Everybody there seemed earnest in their desire to get together and put down any difference" Battle said on his return.

Francis Pickens Miller is a leader of the liberal Virginia Democrats who have always felt at home in the national Party - even in Fair Deal days.

Collaborating with Steve Mitchell, he was instrumental in bringing the former national chairman together on occasion with Virginia's Lieut. Gov. A. E. B. Stephens, State Senator Harry Stuart and others.

THE COLD REALITY of some national issues, as the Taft-Hartley Act, are rocks in the road leading to the next presidential campaign which could wreck the present structure of good will. In 1952, Virginia Democrats discarded Russell buttons in wrath when Georgia's Sen. Richard Russell suggested the possibility of amending Taft-Hartley.

The Richmond News Leader last week, in an editorial entitled, "The Honeymoon Can't Last," went all the way and plugged for a third party. Looking toward 1956, the Richmond newspaper gloomily predicted:

"The forces led by Hubert Humphrey, of Minnesota, and Paul Douglas, of Illinois, and Governor Harriman, of New York, will compel the nomination of a ticket to THEIR liking - and the South be damned."

The supremely influential Sen. Harry F. Byrd has had not a word to say about either Party harmony or Adlai Stevenson (whom he repudiated in 1952).

Nevertheless, the present mood of Virginia Democrats toward a Stevenson-dominated national Party is significantly friendly.

[[underlined]] Maryland Affairs [[/underlined]]
State Democrats in Party Doghouse
By Roger B. Farquhar
[[image - head shot photo of man, captioned FARQUHAR]]

IF MARYLAND Democratic leaders are unhappy over their failure in the recent State election campaign, they needn't seek to cry on the shoulder of the Democratic National Committee. The State Democratic leadership is so deep in the doghouse with the national leadership that it may take years to get out

It isn't that the national party leaders aren't aware that the best of candidates can lose, the way Dr. H. C. Byrd and former Gov. W. Preston Lane, Jr., lost to Gov. Theodore R. McKeldin. The feeling stems mainly from the fact that the State Democratic leaders welshed on their agreement to kick in their stipulated share of funds to the national party coffers.

In addition, the national leaders know the State Democratic ranks have been demoralized by intraparty bickering.

FORMER Democratic National Committee Chairman Stephen A. Mitchell hinted last spring at the national party resentment toward Maryland Democratic leaders when he told them to their faces:

"You have acquired something of a reputation for . . . arguing among yourselves to the point of snatching defeat from the jaws of victory." 

It has been learned that Mitchell, just before he stepped down from the national chairmanship, was tempted to publicly express his disapproval of the Maryland Democratid "old guard" leadership and its dismal performance in recent years. When the time came, however, he decided against it, not wishing to bow out on a sour note.

But the feeling around national Democratic headquarters int Free State Democrats may have a long wait before they can again become members in good standing at the national Democratic family.

IN 1952, the Democratic National Committee set up a quota system - state by state - for contributions to the national campaign fund, and Maryland's responsibility to the kitty for 1953 and 1954 was $13,000 each of the two years. 

According to a national Democratic leaer, the State party organization fell short of its commitment by about $13,000. Without pulling any punches, this official said the Maryland showing was the poorest of any state in country.

"We even credited the Maryland quota with contributions made silently to the national committee from wealthy Marylanders who maintain addresses in Washington," he lamented. "And still they bogged down miserably."

Only two areas chalked up a worse record, the official went on. He identified those as the Virgin Islands and Hawaii.

Another sore point with the national party officials is their claim that the Maryland Democrats agreed to pay about $500 for transportation and other expenses in connection with the speech of Maine's Governor-elect Edmund S. Muskie when he appeared at a Democratic fund-raising dinner in Baltimore during the Maryland campaign. The Free Staters reneged on that, the party official claimed, and the national committee may be stuck with the bill.

IN ADDITION, it is claimed, Maryland probably has the poorest attendance record of any state at National Democratic Committee meetings in the past two and a half years. In fact, one official says, the Maryland committee members haven't attended one meeting during that period

One official recently said that Marylanders "haven't done a thing money-wise, organization-wise, or interest-wise, but they want to get in on all the benefits and all the assistance they can get."

Maryland Democrats can justifiably claim they are broke. In fact, when they [[??]] their required statement of expenditures after the campaign, they listed a deficit of $32,838. But they also listed $156,378 as having been contributed - and spent - and it would be somewhat surprising if the national committee didn't wonder why a little of this seemingly generous fund didn't find its way into the national party treasury.

It is popular among old guard Maryland Democrats to lay most of their troubles at the door of George P. Maloney, anti-organization Democrat who twice tried valiantly but vainly for the Governorship and once unsuccessfully sought to become United States Senator from Maryland.

The Baltimore contractor, because of his vigorous primary campaigns against organization faithfuls, has been termed a "party wrecker" by the old guard. At least one national Democratic figure, however, thinks the Maryland trouble goes somewhat deeper and the best interests of the party would be served if the old guard, recognizing its past failures, stepped aside in favor of younger leaders.
[[end columns 1 and 2]]
[[begin column 3]]
[[headline cut off]]
Silence About Diet Helps Weight Loss
By Nate Haseltine
Staff Reporter

A PHILADELPHIA physician would add something new to diet and other regimen prescribed for obese patients who really want to lose weight. He advises his patients not to talk about their treatment.
[[box]] The Laboratory Casebook [[/box]]

Such "unobtrusiveness," he reported in GP, publication of the American Academy of General Practice, apparently helped a group of 27 patients to lose weight they had been unable to shed under former dieting programs.

Even when that poundage attracts notice, the patients are advised to clam up as much as possible. They may admit being under treatment for obesity, wrote Dr. Jacob J. Cohen, but shouldn't go into the boring details.

TALKING ABOUT one's diet is double-edged, Dr. Cohen said. First, it so bores the listeners that even the well meaning friends are likely to discourage the dieter, if only to shut him up. Second, just talking about food creates a stronger craving for it.

The doctor reported he tested his theory of unobtrusiveness on overweight patients who had not benefitted by conventional dieting programs. Their histories had shown them least likely to respond to weight-control measures.

He put the patients on specific diets [[??]] as nearly as possible to their food likes and yet within a 1200 to 1300 calories-a-day limit. Many who had failed on similar calorie restrictions complained that the dieting wouldn't work because it was too easy on them.

Such complaints, said Dr. Cohen, gave him good opportunity to indoctrinated the patients with "the importance of unobtrusiveness, the essential feature of the regimen."

EACH PATIENT, he reported in the December issue of GP, was shown how flaunting his treatment in public intensified his craving for forbidden foods and as the same time drove his friends, bored by the constant talk of diet, to tempt him to abandon his overadvertised regimen, then ridiculing him when he did so.

"Avoidance of this trap, it was explained, dictated the only specific taboo of the regimen: Don't talk about the treatment," Dr. Cohen stated.

The doctor also prescribed appetite-cutting drugs [[?]] sulfates to help his patients. He gave the drugs some credit for the final results, but said they were apparently better than could have been attained without the don't-talk admonition.

His results. Of the 27 patients, 12 who were under treatment from 4 to 13 weeks had an average of more than 14 pounds each. For the other 15, under treatment for from 13 to 39 weeks, the average weight loss was 17.3 pounds.

If this is something to brag about, the patients shouldn't do the boasting, according to Dr. Cohen's theory on unobtrusiveness.
* * *
Nature Duplicated

AFTER YEARS of research, the make-up of crude, of tree-grown rubber dually has been duplicated by a team of chemists at the B. F. Goodrich Research Center, Brecksville, Ohio, it was announced recently by William S. Richardson, president of Goodrich-Gulf Chemicals, Inc., of New York.

The new, man-made rubber has not yet been named, though patent applications have been filed for it. It is made from different materials than those used in GR-S synthetic rubber, and it cannot be produced in Government-owned synthetic rubber plants as they are now operated.

The chemically built "natural" rubber will cost substantially more than synthetic rubber, and more than the tree-grown product produced at the more efficient rubber plantations, Richardson said.

The United States, the world's largest buyer of natural rubber, has had to import every pound used from the Far East, South America, or Africa. Discovery of how to make the natural product chemically could make this country self-sufficient should the future supply be cut off, Richardson said.

G.R.M. rubber, a wartime development, is considered better for many uses than tree-grown and the new man-made rubber. But, except for the cost, crude rubber is preferred over synthetic rubber for truck and airplane tires, into which goes about 50 percent of the total annual tonnage of new rubber consumed in the United States.

Synthetic (GR-S) rubber in tires under heavy loads generate more heat than crude rubber, it freezes at higher temperatures, and in its uncured state is not as tacky (sticky) as crude rubber. In all tests to date, the company official said, the new man-made rubber has the same physical qualities of crude rubber.

[[underlined]] The Naturalist [[/underlined]]
Birds Vary in Choice Of Lodging at Night
By Irston R. Barnes
President, Audubon Society of the District of Columbia

WHERE DO birds sleep? How do they manage to survive the long and stormy winter nights.

Of course, birds are very warm-blooded creatures, clothed with the best insulation. Nevertheless, some do seek shelter, and where and how they sleep interests many bird watchers.

The specific examples I offer here are the result of chance observations. I have often thought that I should like to investigate each variety of bird systematically. John Muir wrote that one of the pleasures of being abroad in a storm is the discovery of how birds cope with the elements.

WATERFOWL OFTEN spend much of the night hunting, but when they sleep, they repair to their chosen element--dabbling ducks to the river bank or marsh, the bay and maritime ducks to the open water where they sleep in large [[??]]

The gulls and terns seem never to sleep on the water. Instead they choose an island or isolated stretch of beach, where they sleep with others of their kind or in mixed companies of several species. Cormorants are more aquatic than most ducks, but they prefer to sleep in social groups on an island.

The shorebirds lead a most exposed existence on wind-swept beaches in all kinds of weather, although taking advantage of any bit of shelter, if there is a wind, they sleep in the lee of a curving shore or sand dune or crouch behind a stone, a piece of driftwood or a clump of seaweed.

The exact pattern of the wind around a bunch of grass or seaweed may be outlined [[??]] by the tapering parts of plovers behind it. While they are naturally gregarious, I have frequently have found plovers and sandpipers sleeping behind pieces of debris barely big enough to serve as a wind break for only one or two birds.

MANY BIRDS PREFER to sleep in large companies. Crow [[??]] are ordinarily located in a heavy wood, and they sometimes number hundreds of thousands of birds.

Many different species of heron will gather nightly - great blue herons, American and snowy egrets, Louisiana and little blue herons. And if one or both of the night herons join the company, the roost is never without occupants, for the night shift goes out to forage as the diurnal herons come in at dusk.

The winter sleeping habits of the red-wings, grackles and cowbirds are responsible for some remarkable concentrations. Unlike the starlings that flock to the city at night, these three complaining of daytime gleanings in the fields choose the marsh at night, gathering in vast numbers that defy counting.

For example, red wings, grackles and cowbirds can be watched passing north across the Sassafras river in the late afternoon. In ribbons 300 yards wide, they wing over for more than an hour, a host that must exceed a million.

Woodpeckers pass the winter night in comparative comfort, sleeping singly or in family groups in their cavities. Other hole-nesting birds - chickadees, titmice, nuthatches, bluebirds - also sleep inside. As many as eight bluebirds have been counted [[??]] from a single hole.

THE BIRDS of the field and wood face severe conditions. They commonly seek out ravines and other sheltered nests in winter, they are not scattered generally throughout the wood. The old-fashioned stone walls are favorite shelters, especially for quail and small hedgerow birds.

Where there are ruffed grouse, one often sees the single snowshoe mark where a bird has plunged beneath fresh snow for the night. We found one goldfinch that found both shelter and warmth in the footprint of a cow in some fresh dung.

Weed patches are favorite winter shelters for both birds and small mammals, perhaps because such spots are warmed by the decaying organic materials that [[??]] there.

Other birds seek thick evergreens at night, or they crouch beneath an overhanging branch. Honeysuckle, Douglas boughs give good shelter. Our song sparrows at home regularly choose a bramble thicket, which gives them no shelter from the elements, but it assures that they will be aroused if a prowler tries to attack them.

Watch the birds as they leave your feeder at dusk and discover, if you can, where they go to spend the night.

[[end column 4]]
[[start column 5]]

[[image - photo of man wearing hat]] 
[[underlined]] Country Livin' [[/underlined]]
Chicken-Raising Scribe Put His Eggs in Wrong Basket
By Aubrey Groves
The Squire of Grigsby Hill

[[image - photo of many eggs, with chicks emerging from some]]
[[credit]] By [[??]] [[??]], Staff Photographer [[/credit]]
[[caption]] Newly hatched chicks are immediately "sexed" (assorted according to gender.) The pullets sell for high prices, the cockerels for much less. [[/caption]]

THE POULTRY INDUSTRY, staggering for the second year under the weight of price-depressing surpluses, needn't worry about L. T. Easley, Jr., any more. The Associated Press' 14-karat wordsmith hereafter will stick to his typewriter. "Tex" has "had it" as far as chickens are concerned!

The story started early this year, when Easley, en route home from a poker soiree or some other such [[??]] activity, happened to tune his car radio to WCKY, which [[??]] the airwaves just across the river from Cincinnati.

"Just think of it," spieled the announcer. "Two hundred baby chicks for just $5.85. That's less that 3 cents apiece!"

There was a touch of spring in the air. Somehow it took Easley back in memory to one or two boyhood vacations spent on a farm. Now he's bought a little weekend place of his own, a 75-year-old log cabin on 8 acres not far from Short Hill Mountain, Va., across the Potomac from Harper's Ferry.

The recollection of flocks of white layers feeding on scattered corn, and the memory of big fresh eggs for breakfast, was too much for our hero. Wouldn't it be nice, he ruminated, to have some of his own?

EASLEY'S THOUGHTS were not altogether sentimental. "Think of the profit that can be made," he rationalized to himself. With eggs retailing, as they were then, at 80 cents a dozen, why be a sap and continue paying through the nose?

At first he thought he'd order just a dozen. Seventy-two-year-old Harry Nace, who looks after the Easleys' rural holdings during the week while the master turns out bright prose int he Capitol press galleries, agreed to feed the biddies.

When our entrepreneur got around to ordering, however, he reckoned there was no point in being a mere shoestringer. He put in for the 200, as advertised.

The shipment arrived and the Easleys carted the little chirpers out to the country the very next weekend. And none too soon. It's astonishing what 200 birdies, even baby ones, can do to the atmosphere of even a well-ventilated city home.

"Great Day in the Morning!" exclaimed Nace. "Looks like more than a dozen to me!"

Easley is not the greedy type, just thrifty. Since Easter was approaching, he decided to share his windfall. He took 25 chicks back to town and gave them to neighborhood children. The others, meantime, started eating their heads off on growing mash that set our joyous journalist back more than $5 a hundred pounds.

EACH WEEKEND it was necessary to increase the feed order. Soon the family [[??]] took on the rich odor of ground [[??]], barley and wheat, enriched with pleasant smelling vitamins. 

The mounting feed bill left the light-hearted [[??]] undismayed. In four or five months his flock would be paying big dividends. There'd be nice fresh eggs not only for himself, but to take back to town and sell to less enterprising friends by the [[??]].

He was not feazed even when 17 of the 25 giveaways came back to him. (The time always comes when Easter chicks growing in city apartments lose their welcome.) He just raised his production calculations.

The birdies really blossomed out, with high bright red combs and handsome plumage. Nace started giving the Easleys a quizical kind of look but said nothing to shatter their dream of riches.

TIME CAME for the chickens to start laying, but they didn't. Easley took his problem to Quentin Johnson, an old Indiana boy to hep to things rural. "Come out and have a look; maybe they need a supplemental mash, or some new kind of vitamin," he entreated. Quentin said he would, and did.

The Hoosier gave a whoop when he first glimpsed the flock. They were all roosters. And White Leghorns at that. "Roosters won't lay eggs, no matter what you feed them," he informed his host, now completely crestfallen.

Leghorn hens, of course, are perhaps the most prolific of all layers - if among the smallest. The cockerels are worth very little except that a few are needed to fertilize eggs for hatching. They hardly have enough [[??]] on their bones to be worth the bother of butchering, cleaning and cocking. Commercially, they're a drag on the market.

That's why the hatcheries "sex" the day-old chicks, selling the future layers on for $20 to $25 a hundred. Usually they'll give you the Leghorn roosters if you'll just take them away.

EASLEY PUT 35 of the skinny midgets in his own deep freezer. Others he gave to the country preacher and various members of his flock. The Naces, not prone to look a gift rooster in the gizzard, earned enough to take them through this winter. Easley eventually found other persons willing to accept the remainder as gifts.

Starting to work early on his income tax reports, the chastened journalist got out his feed bills the other night. After allowing the [[?? ?? ??]] for the ones he kept, but not figuring anything for management or labor, he found he was OUT just exactly $38.16 on his poultry venture.

So don't expect to see Easley glowing normally with holiday spirit. If you boast even a smidgen of good will toward men, you won't mention chickens in his presence.

[[underlined]] He Didn't Live to See It [[/underlined]]

Angus' Dream Comes True
By G. V. Ferguson
Editor, Montreal Star
MONTREAL - The Canso Causeway has been completed, but the people of Nova Scotia are thinking today more of their dead leader, Angus L. Macdonald, than they are of the realization of one of his great dreams. This is perhaps an odd subject to present to Washington newspaper readers, few of whom have heard of "Angus L.," and still fewer of the Canso Causeway. But the story is a symbol of  a vital part of Canadian life, and I would like to write of it.

The Straits of Canso - usually called the Cut of Canso - is a turbulent channel of swift-moving tidewater which joins the Gulf of St. Lawrence to the broad sweep of the North Atlantic. On the other side lies Cape Breton, politically a segment of Nova Scotia but peopled by a race which owes its chief allegiance to itself.

The history of Cape Breton opens with the advent of European fishermen to the Grand Banks of Newfoundland. On its rocky shores the French built their greatest North American stronghold -- Louisbourg, believed impregnable until it fell to the English General Wells more than two centuries ago.

The people of Cape Breton are the descendants of Highland settlers from Scotland. They live hard and proudly on their Island, and their North American speech has the soft lilting music of the Highlands in it. For many of them, their ancestral Gaelic remains their favorite tongue.

THEIR favorite hero is the [[text cut off]] a politician with the manner of a lofty Highland laird, and a master of English and Gaelic, in both of which he was an orator of the first order.

He was, for years, the undisputed political overlord of Nova Scotia, a loyal member of the Liberal Party but a man who never for a moment forgot that the Nova Scotians he led were men and women ill-satisfied with the bargain they struck in 1867 when they joined the Canadian Confederation.

North American development bypassed Nova Scotia. Its resources were not lavish, its access to continental markets costly. Its chief export for years has been its youth, determined, charming young men and women who have sought elsewhere the opportunities they could not find in the hills and glens of home.

Cape Breton has - by Canadian standards - a big steel and coal business. The [[??]] cuts out far under the sea, the miners bring the coal up to the surface and turn it over there to the iron and steel mills, which keep going and make money, but make it the hard way.

IT HAS BEEN a long-standing dream to bring the Sydney steel mills and mines closer to market by bridging the rough and difficult Cut of Canso. It was a dream shared by "Angus L." who, at last, forced or persuaded the federal governments to undertake the task. A bridge was found to be an engineering impossibility. Angus L. said he would settle for a causeway - a causeway across the straits, with a lift span upon it which would ope to let the shipping through.

The work began some years ago. This week the big diesel trucks duped the last load of rockfill upon the causeway, but the rejoicing of the Cape Bretoners was tempered by the knowledge that Angus L. would not be on hand for the [[text cut off]]

He had promised his people that, when that day came, he would, in full Highland array, lead across the causeway a band of a hundred chosen and kilted pipes, playing the famous pipe music which resounds in the glens of Cape Breton with all the fervor that marked the Highland gatherings of Scotland in the days of Bonnie Prince Charlie.

The official opening will, to be sure, take place next year, but there will be no Angus L. at the speech-making, and the warm-hearted, sentimental Highlanders of Cape Breton will miss him sorely.

IT REMAINS to be seen what benefits the causeway will bring Cape Breton and the rest of Nova Scotia. It will replace an unwieldy rail and ferry which shuttle back and forth across the Cut, causing cumbrous delays in traffic. It will benefit the tourist trade, for Cape Breton is one of the loveliest haunts in North America, now reached by Cabot Trail, named after John Cabot of Venice and Bristol who first sighted its rocky promontories in 1497.

The Cabot Trail circles the lovely Bras d'Or lakes, and the home of Alexander Graham Bell, who won a fortune with his invention of the telephone but whose heart never strayed far from his native Cape Breton.

The causeway will also make access to the coal mines and steel mills a little easier, but these products mostly move from Cape Breton by ship. What the causeway may do is to break down some of the distinctiveness of the region, bring it into closer conformity with the main currents of Canadian and North American thought.

But there would be many, including the famous Angus L. himself, who would deplore conformity and would keep [[remainder of text cut off]]

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