Senator Norris Honored at Final Dinne Mrs. Franklin 0. Roosevelt and Senator George W. Norris of Nebras ka are shown looking at the bast of Senator Norris which was presented to him by Mrs. Roosevelt. The presentation took place after the senator made his final speech as a member of congress daring the dinner held in his honor in New York. Governor Charles Edison is seated on the left of the bust. The theme of Senator Norris’ speech was what mav >-nme after the war. LEAVES :: OF ijLAUREL :; Rv :: el via GRAHAM MELTON Outstanding poems select ed, in cooperation with the nation’s poetry editors, for special mention in a review of todays Muse. NEW YORK, N. Y.—This time last year we were all talking1 a bout the Philippines, Manilla, Corregidor, Bataan. We were still in the shock Btage of this war; full of outrage, impatience, ignorance- We simp ly .could not understand how those half-pint supposedly not-such-a much J«ips could hit big Uncle Sam, and with such telling blows! Now, though we are sure we will eventually win this war, we aro not so cocky nor so ignorant of many military facts. Nor do we, any longer, underate our ad versaries. And that means we have come a long way. We are not so guilty of superficial arm-| ehair criticism and we are more willing to take individual initi- ! ative toward helping to win our| war. With the accent on “our.” I got started thinking about all | this after just receiving—the first authentic report—word that a good friend of mine is not dead but was taken prisoner by the Japs when we lost Corregidor so many months ago. What his condition is, or where he is interned remains a mystery. And I scarcely know (after some of the reports I’ve had of Jap treatment) whether to rejoice of to feel anguish at his being alive. The world and its monster war moves so fast and so bewildering ly these days that we lose thought of what has gone before. But Baatan is one of the handful of great dramatic battle moments in history. That’s not my feeble op inion but the consensus of histor ians and military wise men. Quite a while back I made a note to write some sort of me morial to Bataan and Corregidor, but I never have. For a number of reasons, but mainly because my poor mind balks at the size of the task. Again, I came across a poem, 'by a famous writer, wherein he said all the things J have wanted to say—only better. BATAAN FALLS Bataan . . . Bataan. Bataan falls! Bataan. Like the tramp of feet on the road of doom, like the bomVer’s roair-lil