The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1941-04-03
Cumberlander Receives Stirring
Article From A Friend
In War-TOrn England


Of Englishmen today historians
will doubtless say, centuries hence
This was their finest hour"
Why historians will crafty this
hope of Winston Churchill can be
perhaps no better illustrated than
by an editorial which appeared re-
Gently in the Manchester Guardian
one of Britain's great newspapers.
A copy of the editorial was re-
ceived the other day by Carl L. Reed
manager of the export department of
the Kelly Springfield Tire company
at Cumberland. 1t was sent by a
Manchester friend, Arnold Gastrell
whom Reed has visited and with
whom he has travelled
Living Literature
The editorial, in beautiful, stirring
language, sums up the spirit that is
England. Propaganda? Perhaps,
but it is great living literature and
depicts a humanity of which all may
be proud.
Enthusiastically, perhaps, Gastrell
appends to the copy only the words,
Hope you are keeping fit and well. F."
That from a man who is living in
bomb-shattered Manchester!
"Do you remember Manchester :?
The rain, the SCOT, the business men
with bowler hats and their neatly
rolled umbrellas, and the trans. Do
you remember those narrow little
alley-ways, paved with rough cobbles
and perpetually running with muddy
water, which were so proudly and
SO mistakenly called streets?
"And the heavy wagons with great
wooden wheels and thick curved
shafts, and the patient might of the
huge shire horses that pulled them
so willingly and SO tirelessly through
the endless maze of smoke-stained
buildings round Shudehill? Do you
remember the grim majesty of the
office blocks and the ponderous acti-
witty of the warehouses the dark
beauty of the Cathedral and the
darker CLEAN of the river?
Warm Hearts
Remember M anch e ter? Of
course you do. Dear, dirty, old Man
chester, sitting stolidly in its smoke
and its rain, with an expression of
grim determination and a heart as
warm as the taprooms of the little
taverns which nestle down together
in the SHAMELESS.
Manchester, the curse of the
Minister of Health, the despair of
the architect, the salvation of the
umbrella trade.
every self-respecting Manchester
man carries an umbrella. In the
Midlands and the South, an umbrella
is a cumbersome necessity, some
thing to be carried furtively under
the arm and deposited with joy at
the merest suspicion of sunshine. In
Yorkshire it is luxury, in Oxford an
affectation, in Edinburg an impossi-
bility.
mot so in Manchester. The Man
chester man carries his umbrella with
the pride and the courtliness of a
dandy. When he has just sold his
quota of cotton he goes marching
down Piccadilly with the air of a
drum major, swinging his umbrella
and whistling. When he is in tight
corner he stands at his bus stop with
it planted firmly between his feet
and his hands crossed decisively over
the handle. One can almost see the
words, "They shall not pass" picked
out on the building behind him.
Rain Persistent
"But when it is raining, the UNI
brella really reaches it's finest hour,
or rather day, for Manchester rain
is VIGOROUSLY persistent. The streets
become black, shining mass of UNI
brellas, and your business man hur-
ries through the struggling crowd on
his way to the bus with incredible
speed and agility. The Londoner in
crowd with an open umbrella is like
a parachutist who lands in the sea
the Manchester man is a second
Blondin.
Hold on to your memories, then,
if you treasure the Manchester that
was. Hold fast to the old sights
and the old ways, the smoke and the
rain and strong tide of commercial
life. On the night of Sunday, Deem
Der %, they came to Manchester.
"When they came to Manchester
it was dark and very still. The city
was sleeping, somewhat ftfully, in
the peace Of the early evening. In
the chucrhes, the benedictions had
been pronounced and the people sent
on their way
1.-THE drone was very distant and
very quiet, but menacing. The watch
ers got ready and waited in a tense
silence. Looking down from their
roof-tops, they could see the dim
outlines of the Cathedral, the hotels,
the great station, and on up the
quiet lengths of Deansgate and Mar
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