Daily Bulletin - 21.10.1940, Blaðsíða 3

DAILY BULLETIN
3
search was virtually hopeless.
We were drenched to the skin
when we gave up and rejoined
the convoy. Our detectors had
not picked up a trace of the U-
boat. We found twenty six
survivors from the freighter,
but five were missing and pre-
sumed killed by the torpedo
explosion.
(To be concluded to-morrow).
Greedy Spaniel “Bitten”
Attacking Steak Bone.
When a “bone” bites a dog,
that’s news. At least Humane
Officer Wilfred Goss of Fort
Wayne, Indiana, thought so
when he was called to the home
of Loren Gilmore to rescue the
family’s cocker spaniel.
In its enthusiasm to attack a
steak bone, the spaniel had
thrust the whole lower jaw
through a hole in the bone and
it had caught behind the ani-
mal’s teeth. After trying pliers,
pincers, and a veterinarian to no
avail, the officer took the be-
wildered dog to a blacksmith
shop, where the bone was
removed.
Canadian Rifle Regiment
Knows No “Attention”.
Moving of the British Colum-
bia Regiment, Duke of Con-
naught’s Own Rifles, from
historic Beatty Street Armories
to new wartime quarters out-
side Vancouver has focused at-
tention on some of the unusual
customs of the unit.
Officers of the regiment wear
no lapel medals. They carry
green and black whistle cords
as a reminder of the uniforms
of Englands’ famous old Rifle
Brigade. The regiment has no
flags, battle honors being re-
corded on cap badges.
The commands “slope arms”
and “fix bayonets” are un-
known to men of the British
Columbia Regiment. They carry
swords, and on command affix
them to their long rifles. Nor
will the men come to “atten-
tion”. To get this stance, a B.C.
regiment officer must command
his men: “Stand to your front!
Rifles!”
Hollywood
Film Shop.
Cary Grant was about to take
a bath for Frank Lloyd when a
serious expression covered his
face.
“But they didn’t take baths
in Colonial days,” said Grant.
The shock of that blasphemy
against the cleanliness of the
Colonial fathers muted some 100
tongues. That many men and
women had been working for
hours preparing the bath scene
for Frank Lloyd’s production of
“The Howards of Virginia.”
“I’ve heard rumors,” admitt-
ed Lloyd, “that was the case.
But we’ll check it.”
He called loudly for a man
named “Twitchell.” A grayhair-
ed fellow came in the run.
Twitchell’s business is hunting
up trivia. He knows all that can
be told of early American
customs.
“Well,” hedged Twitchell, as
the question was put to him,
“there’s no use bringing up old
scandals, is there?”
“Quit stalling,” said Lloyd.
“Did they take baths?”
“Wed,” said Twitched, “the
boys used to head for the near-
est river, look carefully to see
that there were no ladies around
and then dunked themselves al
fresco style. I’d say they bathed
every month or so, depending on
the weather.
“There is one encouraging
thing,” Twitched said. “The
English bathed less often. Some
of them thought that excessive
bathing — every month or so
— was a mark of decadence.”
“Maybe there isn’t any proof
for bathing in a tub,” said
Lloyd, “but Cary takes a bath
in this picture, proof or no
proof.”
Twitched, after entertaining
the cast with stories about Co-
lonial days, gave one horrified
look as Cary prepared to take
his historically unauthenticated
bath and hastened away to read
more books to verify his judg-
ment that bath tubs didn’t exist
until after the Revolutionary
War, although Grant was bath-
ing in a wooden wash tub.