“Heaven would lose all its charms for me if I thought should meet nobody there but Americans and foreigners,” cried Manuel Quezon, President of the Philippine Senate, as little brown men beat their palms in approbation last week. Once before he had said: “I would rather have a government run like hell by Filipinos than one run like heaven by Americans.”
A siren screeched in the U. S. Treasury Building in Washington. Timid clerks rushed into the corridors, craned quaking necks. Assistant Secretary of the Treasury Dewey was irked. He had ordered all employes to remain in their offices when the burglar siren sounded, so that guns could sweep the corridors clear of thugs, bandits, etc. Last week’s screech was only a test case.
In Georgia, on the road between Swainsboro and Soperton, a small car bounced along, one night last week. Three men with white sacks over their heads stopped that car, dragged its driver from the wheel, beat him into insensibility with stout pine boards. He, Editor H. M. Flanders of the Soperton News, had written an editorial attacking bootleggers. Several years ago, he had been shot and wounded for a similar editorial.
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