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In your issue of March 9, you state that "God Save the King" was probably composed in England by one Henry Carey (1692-1743), although historians are not positive. I am glad that historians are not positive, for both in Belgium and in England I was always led to believe that this convenient tune was composed by John (or Jan) Ball, organist at Antwerp Cathedral. A fact that might be added in support of this is that in Biblical times "God Save the King" was the usual salutation to a monarch (I Sam. 10:24; 2 Kings 11; 12). In any case it would be interesting to know something more about a tune that was adopted by four different nations, without their knowing anything of its origin. Almost as mysterious, and not half so rhythmical as the Peanut Song.
G. ANTOINE MOLLER San Francisco, Calif.
Most authorities now believe that John Bull (not Ball), once widely credited with writing "God Save the King," composed in 1619 an "ayre" which may have influenced Henry Carey when, in 1740, he produced the definitive and largely original composition.—ED.
1931 Highwaymen
Sirs:
In TIME, in Letters, in a recent issue, a liberty-loving American told the 472,000 automobile-owning readers of TIME about the speed trap at Zion, Ill. (Time, March 30). That's the ticket!
Now let other TIME-motorists write of other notorious speed traps ... as warning ... as a hint to avaricious or kluck-minded hick-town officials that motorists can boycott speed trap towns by avoiding them.
To start, I nominate Greenwich, Conn., where insolent speed trap motorcyclists show moist-lipped interest in "what yuh got in that rumble seat?"—and Darien, Conn., where speed cops lurk like coyotes—and Cos Cob, Conn., where the local pastime is nabbing 'em at the unexpected flash of the red light—and Westport, Conn., where a constable in a battered touring car collects $2.40 per "speed" arrest.
The spotlight of publicity, TIME, on these 1931 highwaymen!
J. A. SWANSON New York City
Horticulturist
Sirs:
I notice in the March 30 issue of TIME that G. K. Chesterton claims never to have heard of your good and readable newsmagazine. About 18 miles up the Missouri River from Bismarck, N. D., there lives a man said to be demented. He has a farm of 260 acres practically covered with ditches about three feet deep, in which are planted dead saplings cut from timber across the river. He imagines himself a horticulturist, thinks these dead plantings will take life and give him shade and fruit. He ha? two shacks built of upright timbers. In the abandoned one is a heterogeneous mass of junk— deer skins, antlers, worn-out spades and shovels used in digging ditches (he has been at it for years), files of newspapers since the day of the (-'lister massacre. Even an ancient small job press. All these, covered with dust. As we approached his shack a young married couple preceded us. Soon the owner appeared, walking leisurely toward them. ... As he came nearer I saw he held in his hand a magazine, his finger between the pages where he had been reading—TIME! I engaged him in talk and found him a very intelligent man. He had not been to town for three years. But he knew what was doing in the world, just the same.
O. C. BRANNEN Philadelphia, Pa.