Evening star., 1943-04-02

Henry McLemore. guns and uni
forms, No one has to be told wnen
he crosses from Northern Ireland
into Southern Ireland, even though
his knowledge of geography be as
limited as that Of backward chip
munk. His nose and stomach will
tell him because the crossing of tls
dividing line is the signal for the
dining car chefs to start cooking
such items as lamb and pork chops
and sirioin steaks and the aroma Of
these delicacies as it swirls through
the coaches is proof positive that
! the land of De Valera has been
reached.
When a traveller sees fresh,
creamy butter and platters of eggs
and reads a menu that doesn't list
either cabbage or Brussels sprouts
he doesn't need a compass. sextant
or guide to tell him what part I
Ireland he is in. The purring Of
his stomach is better than any map
I'm afraid l made pig of myself.
All I needed to double for Diamond
jim Brady after the meal I ordered
was diamond horseshoe stickpin
and a picture of Lilliap Russell IN
my wallet.
City Has No Rackout.
They say the scenery in South
ern Ireland is very beautiful, but all
l saw Of it as the train rolled along
was the CraCkly, crispv edges of
chops, the warm, red heart Of
steak and the rolling hillsides Of
| onions and the valleys of butter.
could have gone right past the
Grand Canyon, the Tai Mahal and
Lana Turner taking sunbath with
| out noticing any of them.
| If you arrive in Dublin after
! nightfall, the difference between a
| city at war and city at peace is
| tremendous. There is no blackout
in Dublin and the few lights that
are dlnmed are that way because
Of the shortage of electric power.
No owl released in the bright sun Of
, midday could have been more
Shocked, startled and lost than
was in the blazing lights OF Dublin.
My first thought was, What a
/ needless extravaganza!
I was not at home in lights. !
actually longed for moment to be
| back in the dark to which nv eyes
! have become accustomed and to
grope my way about. This vas in.
| deed. strange world. I could read
the street signs, see fellow pedes.
trians and not have to stumble out
Of their way.
But it was not until I got In a
taxi and started for my hotel that
actually became alarmed. The
headlights of approaching cars
frightened me and I ached for the
peace and security of the pitch
| darkness in London Psychologists,
psychlatrists or some one of their
breed will have a Job on their
| hands after this war is over renov-
Ing the fear of light from those
people who have been living in the
warning countries. Even after as
short time as l have been in war
blackouts, had to force myself not
TO pull the curtains in my rooms.
Military Uniforms Missing.
l haven't seen a uniform in Dub
lin save those worn by doormen.
messengers or policemen. After
London and Belfast, particularly
London where civilian clothes even
on girls is the exception, Dublin
seems to be peopled by strange
race. One becomes so accustomed
to khaki in one form or another
that blues, grays, pin-stripes. chalk
stripes and tWeeds astound the eys
and the shop windows, especially
those of grocers fascinate the new
conner to Dublin.
Pyramids of oranges, lemons and
peaIS-real oneS-StaCkS Of canned
goods of all descriptions and drug.
store displays of cosmetics that Lon.
| don women haven't seen for years.
| There Is even a rumor that nvlon
stockings may be purchased here
and there are candy stores whose
bins are filled with fudge, choco-
lates and real honest st-to-goodness
two, three or five pound boxes OF
assorted candies. 1t is enough to
make man turn smuggler.
But more of that in another story
which have tentatively titled How
Nearly Got Across the Border
With Lemon" or Crime Doesn't
Pay
CDiStributed by McNaught Syndicate, IncD