HE WALKED away from the plane slowly, almost reluctantly, across the concrete hangar floor toward the office, knowing the same deep satisfaction that marked the end of every flight. The smells of grease and gasoline and of cooling metal were familiar companionable smells, as much a part of it as the first glimpse of the dusty field and the orange checkerboard roofs when he circled for a landing.By HAL G. EVARTS
THE SMELL of coffee and bacon came to him through the half-closed door, so strong that it seemed he could almost touch it. Closer to him, reaching him as he moved between the smooth sheets, was the smell of lavender or rose verbena or whatever it was that women put in their linen closets to make sheets smell that way.By KAY WEBSTER
ON THE last day of September, 1946, Fletcher Markle left Toronto for Hollywood. He was on his way to join Orson Welles as a writer actor of Welles’ Mercury Theatre group, and he had in his pocket a motion picture writing and acting contract from Sir Alexander Korda.By HUGH KEMP
AS FAR as I’m concerned the world’s greatest diplomat is a Canadian named Don Faris. You’ve never heard of him? Few people have. Yet I’ve just returned from China, where I've seen him in action as trouble shooter on a fantastic engineering project involving millions of dollars and millions of lives, and it’s my conviction that Don Faris’ diplomacy is one of the major factors in the completion of it.
IN WASHINGTON an American staff officer said, “No, we don’t think another war is inevitable. For quite a few years it isn't even likely—certainly the Russian people don’t want one, any more than we do. Our only real fear is that the Kremlin might kind of stumbe into a war.”By BLAIR FRASER
IT STARTED as a quiet, evening of bridge. But it almost broke up in a riot when the subject of “masculine superiority” came up. By the time the game was over the husbands and wives weren’t on speaking terms. The men knew that they were superior to women.By GEORGE KISKER
ONCE upon a time, in a land far away across the sea, a warmhearted gentleman with side whiskers picked up his quill pen and wrote letters to several of his friends to wish them a merry Christmas. He dried the ink with a dusting of sand, dispatched his greetings by messenger... and never stopped to consider the consequences of his kindly, impulsive act.By ERIC R. ADAMS
A CRACK skier on a downhill run like the man says— is a thing of beauty and a joy forever. As a breath-taking picture of the human body in motion, the flash on slats has all the precision, grace and freedom of a champ prize fighter, a high-tower diver, or a loping halfback plus the unbeatable backdrop of a brilliant winter sun on a snow-glazed mountain.By LOUIS COCHAND
VERY few Canadians are aware of a crippling, virulent infectious disease, self-administered, which yearly strikes an unknown but increasing number of people from Halifax to Victoria. This disease strikes man and animal alike. In humans it is called undulant fever; in animals it is known as brucellosis, and it occurs the world over wherever there are cattle, sheep, goats or hogs.By M. C. DINBERG
MY JOB FOR the last few years has been to examine and report on the cities of the United States for the Saturday Evening Post, a job that took me 40,000 miles and during which I covered more than a score of the nation’s biggest, and a few of the smaller, cities.By George Sessions Perry
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