I WHO'S NEWS I THIS WEEK... By Lemuel F. Parton vwvvvtvivvvvvvvvivvivvr Spanish Onion Peddler’s Epio Story Is Recounted NEW YORK.—As an itin erant onion peddler, Juan March used to tie up his daily earnings in his shirt tail. He pretty nearly had Spain that way, too, at the start of his war against the 1 republic, which he bankrolls and more or less personally conducts from Rome, where, according to today’s dis d patches, he is now in resi dence. Foreign correspond ents put the. finger on Mr. March as the main financial spark plug of the war, both in its origin and continuance. Blasco Ibanez is pretty tame reading after even a cursory look at Senor March’s career. He is a financial genius, one of the richest men in the world, who never saw the inside of a schoolhouse—that is, as a pupil. At the agfe of forty, he had a string of twelve banks, steam ship line's, newspapers, beautiful estates and Hispana cars, and he couldn’t read or write a word—al ways signing his name with a'big X. Born in the Island of Majorca, of desperately poor parents, he was a sack carrier In a corn merchant’s shop, and then an itinerant peddler. His parents were members of an ’ obscure Jewish sect known as “Chu etas.” He went to Africa, as a la borer, and became a grower of to bacco. In the years that followed, Juan „ March was trailed, jailed, hounded and persecuted by national and in ternational police around the Medi terranean as a smuggler. His biographers say that, if the international struggle for control of ths Mediterranean should eventual ly require a more detailed knowl edge of coves and inlets than Italian naval maps now supply, Senor March can supply it. He has per sonally explored them in the dark of the moon, say current news ac counts, and could smell his way in to any of them blindfolded. The money rolled in. In the post war years, Senor March was back in Spain, investing many millions \ in vast areas of land which made ** him one of Spain’s most imposing grandees, traveling with an entour age of generals and flunkies in His pana limousines. His was the build up of Primo de Rivera as dictator. Quite a few years before the over throw of Alfonso, the drive for the break-up of big land holdings was gaining momentum, and Senor March, combating it, became the most powerful and resourceful con tender for fascism in Spain. The republic jailed him for eight een months, Details of his release are obscure, but, when the jtiil doors 'swung outward, the real troubles of t the republic began. According to dispatches of last August and Sep tember, Senor March’s bank in Palma, on Majorca, was the finan cial mainspring of revolution, and Palma was the entrepot not only , of planes, cannon and munitions but of the African Riffs, being landed on a coast which he knew from Gibraltar to Istanbul. A lot of blood has flowed under the bridge since he peddled onions, but, at fifty-seven, there probably isn’t an onion or a cannon peddled around the Mediterranean that he doesn’t know about.. • • * Low-DoWn on Kipling. Frederic f, van de water, a good reporter who became an author, snapped into the old-time routine when he saw that Kipling story lying around loose in Vermont • ' His published account of why Kip ling left America, after his thunder ing row with his brother-in-law, looks like the Freudian key to the poet’s impassioned .dislike for this country. That passage in his memoirs about the hallowed peace of Can ada and the hell-hole just over an invisible line seems to require some such explanation. His rancor, in this connection, always has suggest ed some most unhappy experience here. Mr. Van De Water fills us in, and the story is still good after forty years, One can be more char itable toward Kipling, after learn ing of his troubles with the report ers. * Mr. Van De Water is a good choice to cover the literary beat. He is a grandson of Marion Har land, the novelist, who was Mary Virginia Hawes Terhune. Her chil . dren are Albert Payson Terhune, Christine Terhune Herrick and Vir ginia Terhune Van De Water, all well-known writers. Educated at New York university and Columbia, Mr. Van De Water was a reporter and. editor on several New York newspapers and later a New York literary critic. He is the author of seventeen nov els and a vast deal of critical writ ing, taking time out for fishing with the slightest provocation. He has a summer home in Vermont and that’s liow he came to run down the r Kipling story. . • Consolidated News Feature*. - WNU Service. J{ Few | Lillie ( -S^es ABSENT-MINDED The university professor, re nowned for his absent-mindedness, was also a pretty good sport, and he never minded joining with his students in their various pastimes. One day he sat down with some of them for a quiet game of cards. It was agreed that each player should start by putting a pound note in the "kitty,” and all put in their stakes with the exception of the professor. Absent-minded or not, the stu dents were not going to let him get away with that, and so they began to argue among themselves as to which of them it was who had not paid. The professor listened for a mo ment, and then quickly withdrew one of the notes from the "kitty.” “If you gentlemen are going to start quarreling already,” he said, "I’m taking my money back.” REDUCED INCOME "Uncle Mose, your first wife tells me that you are three months be hind with your alimony.” “Yes, Judge, ah reckon dat am so. But you see it’s dis way: Dat second wife of mine ain’t turned out t’ be the worker that I thought she was gwine t’ be.” Asking Too Mnch "May I borrow your pen, Bob?” "Certainly.” "I’d like you to post this letter as you go to lunch, will you?” "All right.” “Want to lend me a stamp, old chap?” “Yes, if you want one.” "Much obliged. By the way, what’s your girl’s address?”—The Beehive. No Need for Hurry - For years he had been terribly henpecked. One morning at break fast he said to his wife: “My dear, I had a queer dream last night. I thought I saw another man running off with you.” “Indeed!” said his wife. "And, what did you say to him?” "I asked him why he was run ning.” Amiable The shopper was on her way out after leaving her list of groceries to be delivered. Suddenly she turned and said, coldly: “Never mind the cranberries, Mr. Dugan. I see the cat is sleeping on them.” "Bless you, ma’am! She won’t mind me waking her up!” Strategy "Billy, did you take your codliver oil?” "Yes, mum. It didn’t taste so nasty this morning.” Mother (ruspiciously)—Oh, are you sure you took it? “Yes, mum. I couldn’t find a spoon, so I took it on a fork.” THAT MYSTERIOUS KEY Visitor—I’m sure I have the key to your unfortunate position, my poor man. Prisoner—I sure hope 'twill fit the lock to this cell, sir! Skeptical Porkers Judge—Do you consider this de fendant a reliable man? Has he a good reputation for truth and verac ity? Witness—Well, to be honest with you, your honor, that man has to get somebody else to call his hogs at feeding time. They won’t be lieve him. Fruitless Search Mrs. Higgs—’Erbert’s got very keen on gardening since he got his allotment. Mrs. Simon—Is that so? Mrs. Higgs—Yus, 'e bought one of them ’cyclopaedias, and I caught *im .looking all through the o’s to see ’ow to grow ’ops. Head Work “Are you the head of your house?” inquired the visiting relative. “I am,” answered Mr. Meekton. “How do you know? Vou have little to say.” “True. But a voice is located in the throat. The intelligent listening is done with the ears.” UNCOMMON AMERICANS •-•--• By Elmo © W«tern Scott Watson N