ntinued from Page 12

'n the labor movement, the
|—& will intensify its disrup-
|: activities designed to either
ture or destroy the trade
ms and to paralyze labor’s
pendent political role.

in the coming federal elec-
i, its policy dictates that the
EY center its fire on the re-
pm tiberals, making more
mous than ever the danger
Tory victory in the elec-
as.
#n the next Parliament, the
i@F is dedicated to the tactic
| forcing the MTiberals and
ies to join in a reactionary
Wlition (assuming that as a
Hult of the CCF campaign the
@use will be split three ways)
7h all that such a coalition
the right implies.
qt seems clear that nothing

less than repudiation of the
CCE by the labor movement
and a resounding defeat of the
CCF at the polls, accompanied
by the election of a powerful
block of LPP, labor and inde-
pendent MP’s, together with
any CCFers who take a pro-
unity position and the reform
Liberals, putting the Tories to
decisive rout, can assure the
achievement of a progressive
Parliament and Government in
the next election.

And it seems that nothing
less than that will force the
leaders of the CCF to change
their disastrous policy. At any
rate, that will be cheaper than
the concentration camps and
rivers of blood that it took for
European Social-Democracy to

jearn the lesson.

.

P.A. Features, December 30—Page 13°

By H. W.

ers’ Social Research

HEN I went to see him yesterday morning, I stared at Mr. Hangers in unabashed

amazement.

“You look like Davey Jones himself after Popeye's given him a

working over,” I exclaimed, “What in the world have you been doing to yourself.”

For he was pale as death,
almost as gaunt, his cheeks fal-
len in, his hands shaking as
he stuffed a charge of shag in-
to his pipe, and he glared at
me malevolently from behind
eyes that looked like two burnt
holes in a blanket.

“Tis the effects of a bit o?
social research,” he said, and
by using both hands managed
to get his pipe between chat-
tering teeth. He puffed slowly
while I held a match for him.

“What d’? you mean, social
research? Been investigating
the incidence of resurrections
in Mountain View Cemetery?
You lool like it!”

“Social research, I said,” he
returned sourly, ‘“There’s noth-
in’ social about Ocean View,
any more than there’s any
ocean, properly speakn’, with-
in view. I been in livelier so-
ciety than that, anyhow, very
live an’ very high. I was seein’
how the other half celebrates
Christmas.”

“Thought you didn’t believe
in Christmas.”

“No moren I believe in
ehosts, banshees, Davey Jones,
an’ other freaks o’ the’imagina-
tion, but that’s no reason why I
shouldn’t tolerate the other
guy’s superstitions so long’s it

don’t mean servin? me up for —

a ritual dinner,” he growled,
“Although it damn near came
to that.”

“ich society, eh?” and I
tried to remember what local
pooh-bahs Mr, Hangers may
have met on a fishing trip.

“No use ye speculatin’, these
were a bunch o’ big shots from
the east I took fishin’ to Camp-
bell River two years ago, an
I wouldn’t give their names
anyhow, for yed only plaster
them all over that -seandal
sheet o? yours. An’ speakin” QO’
that rag, who’d yer artist think
he was drawn’ for me?”

“He was drunk the night I
brought him down here to
sketch you,” I hastily explained,
“snd he got you mixed up with
a movie star we saw the same
night. William Powell,. I think
it was.”

Ts not safe to kid Mr.
Hangers, but he was as dull as
he felt low, for that passed with
no other comment than “The
moustache isn’t the same.”

“What kind of a party was
this?” I asked him.

“All kinds. Gin, rum, Scotch,
Trish, Canadian Rye, an’ Fraser
River Fire Water. It was neat,

mixed, blended, shaken, swiz-
zled, chilled, an’ chased with
beer. In ‘between drinks we

garegled on cocktails.”

“Oh yeah? Half the booze you
mentioned would make Ken—
nedy’s morgues look like liquor
stores!? I retorted, “I’ll bet it
was beer and UDL Rye, and
you couldn’t take it.”

“Seotch, an’ Dewars at that,
yum, everything I said,” he in-
sisted, “You newshounds around
this town are like a deerhound
Grizzly George owned once—

ran with deer so much it could-
n’t smell ’em any longer. Same
way, if ye weren’t half-dizzy all
the time with the big ‘scoops’
handed out to ye on a silver
plate by advertisers, ye could
mebbe smell the real big boot-

’ leggin’? story im this town.”

“Bath-tub gin, eh? I thought
your yarn was too good,” [I
teased.

“Bath-tub gin hell! Every
bottle with the commission’s
seal on it, an’ not a auart cost
more than $15. Three hotels
sold it to us, an’ they weren’t
skidroad joints either, if ye
want to know it—costs.a dime
to phone from their lobbies.
Five taxi men got us bottles,
an’ a restaurant on Pender
Street didn’t seem to go far-
ther than upstairs to find a

erock o? rum. Then we got in a -

joint on Dunsmuir Street, an’
it fairly flowed’
“Where abouts on
muir??? 5
“TJ dunno, but I do know the

flood carried me out to the
steps o’ the YWCA when some

fool pulled the cord of a phoney
toilet tank where the logan-
berry wine was brewin’. Then
there was a regular [League
o”? Nations 0? clubs, an? ye didn’t
need to deposit a permit to buy
a bottle, although they wanted
the permit an four bits for a
one-ounce drink. An’ we wound
up at 9 ack emma Monday in
the office of a big-shot lawyer

Duns-

we collected durin’ the Triot,
an’ he serves us two fingers
apiece o’ Dram Bhui, an’ only
winked when I asked him where:
in hell he got it.” : 9

“J disremember the rest, but)
I woke up in a suite in the Van-
couver Hotel on Wednesday, all,
alone. But my friends underes-,
timated my capacity,” he con-.
eluded with sullen pride.;
“They'd paid the bill up toa)
Thursday night.” i

“So—Vancouver is no des-
ert,” I mused. ;

“Vancouver is Canada’s,
evergreen playground, an’ it,
takes moisture to keep her
green,” he affirmed.. “D’ye
know what I’m wonderin’ ?”

‘What ?.”” =

“Just whether there'll be a
big robbery ‘of a liquor store,
an’ how soon, to cover up that!
stuff, we drank,’ he said mal-= >
iciously. “There’s “‘more’n alco-
hol stinks around those places.”

“T wonder,” I returned, “But,
man, you're in poor shape for,,
New, Years!” :

He grinned painfully, and un-
locked a corner cupboard. Z

“No bloody fear, (
blokes say. What7ll you have? _
Scotch, rye, rum, Jamaica an’,
Demerara, or Fraser River
Fire Water? D’ye think I
wasted opportunity on that re-
search expedition ?”

Just to please him, I had a

“hot rum.

“Been working much overtime lately, Mr.- Schuster?”

as the