U.S.A_ - John Dos Passos [179]
400
NEWSREEL XXXVIII C'est la lutte finale
402
DAUGHTER
404
NEWSREEL XXXIX spectacle of ruined villages and tor- tured earth 418
The Camera Eye (41) arent you coming to the an-
archist picnic
419
NEWSREEL XL Criminal in Pyjamas Saws Bars
421
JOE HILL
421
BEN COMPTON
423
NEWSREEL XLI in British Colonial Office quarters
452
The Camera Eye (42) four hours we casuals pile up scrapiron 453
-vii-NEWSREEL XLII it was a gala day for Seattle
455
PAUL
BUNNYAN
456
RICHARD
ELLSWORTH 46
SAVAGE
1
NEWSREEL
XLIII the
placards
borne by the
radicals
466
THE BODY
OF AN
AMERICAN 467
-viii-NEWSREEL XX
Oh the infantree the infantree
With the dirt behind their ears.
ARMIES CLASH AT VERDUN IN GLOBE'S
GREATEST BATTLE
150,000 MEN AND WOMEN PARADE
but another question and a very important one is raised. The New York Stock Exchange is today the only free securities market in the world. If it maintains that position it is sure to become perhaps the world's greatest center for the marketing of BRITISH FLEET
SENT TO SEIZE
GOLDEN HORN
The cavalree artilleree
And the goddamned engineers
Will never beat the infantree
In eleven thousand years
TURKS FLEE BEFORE TOMMIES AT
GALLIPOLI
when they return home what wil our war veterans think of the American who babbles about some vague new order, while dabbling in the sand of shoal water? From his weak fol y they who have lived through the spectacle wil recal the vast new No Man's Land of Europe reeking with murder and the lust of rapine, aflame with the fires of revolution STRIKING WAITERS ASK AID OF WOMEN
Oh the oak and the ash and the weeping willow tree And green grows the grass in North Amerikee
coincident with a position of that kind wil be the bringing from abroad of vast quantities of money for the purposes of maintaining balances in this country
-3- When I think of the flag which our ships carry, the only touch of color about them, the only thing that moves as if it had a settled spirit in their solid structure; it seems to me I see alternate strips of parchment upon which are written the rights of liberty and justice and strips of blood spilt to vindi- cate these, rights, and then, --in the corner a prediction of the blue serene' into which every nation may swim which stands for these things.
Oh we'll nail Old Glory to the top of the pole
And we'll all reenlist in the pig's a --h --
JOE WILLIAMS
Joe Wil iams put on the secondhand suit and dropped his uniform, with a cobblestone wrapped up in it, off the edge of the dock into the muddy water of the basin. It was noon. There was nobody around. He felt bad when he found he didn't have the cigarbox with him. Back in the shed he found it where he'd left it. It was a box that had once held Flor de Mayo cigars he'd bought when he was drunk in Guantanamo. In the box under the gold-paper lace were Janey's high school graduation picture, a snapshot of Alec with his motorcycle, a picture with the signatures of the coach and al the players of the whole highschool junior team that he was captain of al in base-bal clothes, an old pink almost faded snapshot of his Dad's tug, the Mary B. Sullivan, taken, off the Virginia Capes with a ful rigged ship in tow, an undressed post-card picture of a girl named Antoinette he'd been with in Vil efranche, some safetyrazor blades, a postcard photo of himself and two other guys, al gobs in white suits, taken against the background of a moorish arch in Malaga,
-4-a bunch of foreign stamps, a package of Merry Widows, and ten little pink and red shel s he'd picked up on the beach at Santiago. With the box tucked right under his arm, feeling crummy in the baggy civies, he walked slowly out to the beacon and watched the fleet in formation steaming down the River Plate. The day was overcast; the lean cruisers soon blurred into their trailing smoke-smudges. Joe stopped looking at them and watched a rusty tramp come in. She had a heavy list to port and you could see the hul below the waterline green and slimy with weed. There was a blue and white Greek