Four
THE MILL WHISTLE
March 15, 1943
jne
MILL WHISTLE
Issued Every Two Weeks By and For the Employees of
MARSHALL FIELD & COMPANY
MANUFACTURING DIVISION
SPRAY, North Carolina. J. U. NEWMAN, JR., Editor.
HONOR: Recently word came from the top man in Washington
that motorists in this country would be placed on their honor; that
this was to be their sole guide in whether or not to use automobiles
for pleasure driving. Much as we hate to say it there has been a fifty
percent increase in driving since that announcement appeared in the
papers. Have we no honor? That’s the same as asking us if we have
any sense. Certainly we pride ourselves on our honor, as well as
sense, and most of us will get sore as a boil if someone accused us of
being without honor. Sure we’ve got it. We honor our parents, our
country, and right now we honor our service men above nearly every
thing else. We honor men and women whom we know are good and
noble, who worked unceasingly for what they believe to be right. We
honor other people and other things.
But how about personal honor.? that’s a horse of two other
colors. Sometimes when you are trying to impress something on
someone you say: “On my honor that’s true’’, or words to that effect.
Did you ever stop to ask yourself exactly what your honor is? Now’s
a good time to try it. Are you, on your honor, using your car and the
precious gas and tires, only when absolutely necessary? Are you
buying all the stamps and bonds you possibly can? Did you give the
Red Cross all you could afford? Are you doing your job the very best
you can? Are you trying to get more than your share of the things
that are becoming scarce?
Honor. That’s a funny thing, brothers. It’s the thing we have
to live with when we’re alone. Something like conscience. We all
know we wouldn’t trust a man without honor any further than we
could toss him by his left ear. In that case, knowing ourselves forty
times as well as anyone else knows us, can we trust our own selves?
Here’s what we think we’re talking about. (We’re none too sure).
Let’s say that twenty-five families live on a certain street here in
town and that each family owns an auto. When the ban on pleasure
driving was announced, were we not all afraid the cops would check
on us and take away our gas books? So we did no more pleasure
driving. We were afraid one of our neighbors might report it, or
something like that. That is fear, not honor.
Now the ban on pleasure driving is lifted and we are on our honor
not to drive except when necessary. So one of the twenty-five fami
lies on our street say to themselves: “So-and-So was driving his car
yesterday. Why can’t we? We’re allowed so much gas and we might
as well get some use from it.’’ So out comes the car and the family
piles in for a three gallon Sunday cruise. Next door neighbors notice.
“Why can’t we, too?” and so on down the line. So called “honor
driving” isn’t to be thought of. As long as the other fellow is doing
it why can’t we? Honor—oh, that’s a word in the dictionary under
the letter H.
What to do? Being totally without knowledge of what honor
means we couldn’t venture to suggest. That, brothers, is something
that is entirely up to you. If you have a sense of honor, if you feel it
is smarter to “put something over on Uncle Sam”, then it is you who
m.ust live with yourself. Nobody else wants to. If you feel that in
obeying that impulse to take a little drive you are not using gas that
may be terribly needed in Africa or Australia l^te this summer, why
go to it. On the other hand we have all seen the. enormous amounts
of foodstuff, gas, rubber and other things our boys need. Have we
any assurance that the need vvill be less acute this fall, or next winter?
Couldn’t we trust in our honor enough to realize that war is a terribly
uncertain thing and that there is always the chance that every ounce
of everything we can save will be eventually needed, and badly?
TOOTS
From the General Office
By Howard Sheffield
John Geer and Joe Ragsdale are go
ing.in for Victory Gardening on a very
extensive basis. They are combining
their energy and latent talents into the
making of one big Victory Garden. Joe
is going to figure cost and production.
When interviewed, Joe stated that he
already knows how much production
they will get from their garden—-he
says that on each package it plainly
states how much that can be produced, .
so it is merely a matter of multiplica
tion. If Joe is right then Secretary of
Agriculture, Wickard, is away off the
beam. John is going to see that the
production that Joe has set up his bud
get does not go into the Red.. Your
correspondent knows nothing about
farming, but it seems to him that John
has asked for a big job. We are all
aware of John’s excessive energy but
we are afraid that he is not going to
find knocking weeds out of a garden
as much fun as knocking a little white
ball down the fairway (In his case,
into the rough.) John is also, on the
side, going to raise his own meat. He
and Carl Banks have gone into a part
nership on this project. Carl says that
it is going to cost practically nothing to
raise the pigs. They plan to feed them
on the scraps from their tables. How ^
can this be—with the food rationing,
I can’t find enough scraps from my
table to keep one Fox Terrier alive.
We understand that John and Carl are
already having their troubles, one of the
pigs fell and broke a leg—wonder if
the poor thing was too weak to stand?
If everything works out as the two
farmers predict, there will be no danger
of any one going hungry in the Tri-
Cities, next summer.
The following items were sent to me
through the mails. The note was signed
“John Powell’s Washing Machine”. It
gives a fellow the creeps to be getting
mail from a washing machine, but with
news so scarce I am glad to use all that
is sent in:
JUST IMAGINE
Carl Von Dreele without his pipe.
Joe Ragsdale Still for five minutes.
C. C. Campbell wearing a Red Wig.
Mr. Pitcher driving a muddy car.
J. H. Ripple with enough yarn.
Howard Sheffield in a bad humor.
Earl Brown without his (Robt. Burns)
cigar.
Mr. or Mrs. Washing Machine, I ap
preciate the compliment you paid me.
But Mrs. Sheffield says “You should do
our wash for a few weeks and you will
find that you have been badly disil
lusioned regarding my husband’s good
humor”—