Walter Reed Hospital in Washington last week discharged a distinguished one-night patient. Army doctors who gave him a thorough examination found General Hugh S. Johnson physically fit. It was well, because the NRAdministrator had strenuous work ahead. Two short, husky old Irishmen were limbering up to meet him next day.
They came with their shillelaghs—florid-faced Thomas Francis McMahon swinging the threat of a cotton textile strike and pug-nosed Michael Francis Tighe brandishing what looked dangerously like a steel strike. If either or both landed a good stiff wallop with their clubs. General...
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