I Clean Comics That Will Amuse Both Old and Young THE FEATHERHEADS .JSlSSt. Nailed Down' vJELL— I UESD6P OUE WELL—LET ME TELL You ONE THIN®/ I'M NOT 601M& T& SlT IDLY BY WHILE 1 YOU whoa! take IT EASY f DOMY FLY OFF THE HANDLE— 7/ By C M. PAYNE SWATTER POP— One Fellah Take* Time Out to Think N AW W+|feKI ASLEEP -I MS.VE.1t (© Th* Bell •syndl icate, Inc.) MESCAL IKE Br S. L. HUNTLEY How Awful by a L Huntley, Trad* Hark Rtf. U* B. Pat. Offle*) FINNEY OF THE FORCE AJSLVSi^ Deep Stuff 1 ITS ABOUT MV SMlLLlS t“ I OoM'T KMOW HOW TO BRIM® HIM C _ UP— r ME Good womiM — l Ol'M "A MARRIED MOM AM’ ALL THAT BUT 01 CAM-r TfeLL VEX m/hut t 'Do ABOUT VER r ~7 CMILDREM I I CAMT Nou OFFICER— 5 WW WILLIE CRAWLED DOWN \N THAT HOLE AND » THOUGHT SOU'D KNOW TO BRlMfr UP/ ADAMSON’S ADVENTURES—A Midnight Snack By O. JACOBSSON r .. ■-> V Our Pet Peeve pgg% (Tj’tOIMO V* tbfe A . S*IL W i »2Li Musical. “Is Jones musical?” “I should say he is. When he’s out he blows his own trumpet and at home he plays second fiddle."— Stray Stories Magazine. A Selfish Constituency. "Are you going to send your con gressman back to Washington?” “No,” replied Farmer Comtossel. “We’ve found out that he’s such good company that we’ve decided to keep him home.” Jane ran into her brother Bill’s room late at night “Bill,” she whispered, “ think I hear burglars. Are you awake?” With'his head under the covers. Bill answered "No!” Mistress —Help! Your master’s drawer has been rifled. Servant—I didn’t do it Nona of my keys fit it LOST By GLUYAS WILLIAMS rt£B Wr UR6E ■»« MOKOT-MEWtUD. MWKRSOtffflfWE Hi* nudwc SOHSWH Wf* OPTDSfcRS ANP ■ftSMABWIHP * Block <*1W» HUM MOWSOWr nwro in “U pisftxcc, «U4 MMSUF SUES MfttUftMM, i m crrmPuKuror wwl ou* MO i MON* 81 iu. i»m A Mill L . 0»ff KtEP OP Witt K M «w». tw m tfiFurr mshc a.i GOtflSoMTWNM EKH (DRlffR t> itt WWM4 HE'S OflCTW MfS. f££ft VOW lOHt t/MK'H(*W • mmtarimm Mm iMwmnwMM, AMD ROSHtJ 16 hEir jaUSBULSU I Blooded Horses Are Revered is Kentucky. Prepared by National Geographic Society. Washington, D. 0.—WNU Service. SOME 40,000 acres of land, much of it magnificent virgin forest, will be included in the Mammoth Cave National park In Kentucky, n the long struggle to establish this national park, Mau rice H. Thatcher, for many years United States representative from Kentucky, was a prime mover. Discovered in 1803, Mammoth Cave was considered the largest national cavern in America until the exploration of the Carlsbad caverns in New Mexico. The un derground passages are of re markable extent, probably under mining the entire area of the pro posed park development. Almost every dweller in the neighborhood has a cave of his own, to which he seeks to attract visitors. Underground rivers in which swim eyeless fish are a weird fea ture of the caves. Besides these there are vast stalactites and sta lagmites, the best of which are seen in the part of the cavern reached through the Now En trance. A “frozen Niagara” of salmon-colored rock and a stalac tite, which, when illuminated by an electric light placed behind it, shadows the perfectly molded form of a beautiful woman stepping down as if to bathe in the sub terranean river, are unique. There are onyx caves and crys tal caves; one might profitably pass weeks going through them all. It was in one of these that Floyd Collins met his death. Beyond Mammoth Cave to the west winds the beautiful Green river known as one of the deepest fresh water streams in the coun try. In this neighborhood was shed the first Kentucky blood of the Civ il war, when Granville Allen was shot Families were torn asunder by the difference of allegiance. Few states knew the horror of Civ il war as did Kentucky. To un derstand what war meant to the border people, one needs only to be reminded that Jefferson Davis was bom near Hopkinsville, not far from Bowling Green, and that Abraham Lincoln was bom near Hodgenville, a few miles to the north. Birthplace of Lincoln. At Hodgenville, a stately memo-, rial shelters the humble log cabin in which Lincoln was born. Sim plicity marks the place as it marked the great soul it fostered. Visitors pause for a drink from the Lincoln spring. Memories of Lincoln linger in the very air between Hodgenville and Bardstown. To Knob creek the Lincoln family moved before young Abraham was two years old. and there they lived until he was eight. His earliest recollections, he wrote, were of Knob creek, and how he was saved from drowning there by the quick aid of a chum, Not much chance of drowning in the creek now; it is little more than a rivulet If there is a house in the world worthy to inspire music, it is “My Old Kentucky Home," near Bards town. While a guest in the house, then owned by his kinsfolk, the Rowan family, Stephen Collins'Fos ter composed that deathless bal lad, “My Old Kentucky Home.” He wrote the music, it is said, at a desk in the wide hall, the sun streaming through the door open ing toward the slave quarters. That selfsame desk still stands in its wonted place, the most pre cious of Kentucky’s furniture rel ics. Even without the Foster tradi tion. the home would be priceless. . It makes no attempt at ostentation, but it is peopled with ghosts at the fine old South.* In Bardstown is St Joseph's ca thedral, in which are displayed several original paintings by great masters. They are believed to have been a gift to the church by Louis Philippe. Not far from the town is Geth semane, a retreat of Trappist monks, one of two such monaster ies in the United States. Louisville, the city 'of George Rogers Clark, comes next on your itinerary, northwestward over 'an excellent highway. It was there that the doughty soldier ended his days in bitterness over the ingrati tude of die nation he had spent his all to aid. At Iiouisville, too, are the home and tomb of President Zachary Taylor, “Old Rough and Ready." His daughter Knox was wooed and won by Jefferson Davis, then a young lieutenant in the general's command* To lovers of horse racing, Louis ville is a tnecca when the Kentucky Derby is run at Churchill Downs. Where Baseball Bats Are Made. At the Louisville Slugger factory, baseball bats for roahy of the fa mous players are hand-turned by skilled workmen. The second growth ash comes to the factory in rough billets. These billets are rounded and laid on racks to sea son for 17 months before they are made into bats. Because ball play ers are particular about the weight and balance of their bats, each step in the shaping of the sluggers re quires the utmost care. Special orders are prepared by hand work- < era. Thousands of bats, however, are made by machinery. From Louisville it is a pleasant trip to Frankfort, the hill-encircled 1 capital of Kentucky. The old ^ Statehouse, now a museum, is an architectural gem of pure Greek design. Within it is a self-support ing circular stairway, one of the few remaining. The new State house is a splendid structure, with a magnificent rotunda under the vaulted dome. It is strangely fitting that Daniel Boone is buried in the cemetery overlooking the capital of the state he helped win from the wilderness. From the path around his tomb * one looks down to the broad valley of the beautiful Kentucky river. The heart of the Blue Grass is the home of the thoroughbred. To one who has striven futilely, baffled by crab grass, to encourage a J lawn, the sight of those blue-grass pastures brings mixed feelings. One does not feel outraged to see splendid horses browsing on such lawns, but one is hard put to es cape taking affront rt cows and sheep feeding in the velvety car pets. Horses in the Blue Grass are monarchs of the earth. On some of the famous (arms the huge cir- , cular stables house quarter-mile exercise tracks floored with tan bark. The thoroughbred is nurtured more carefully than a baby-show contender. A few hours after he is born he is fitted with a halter, that he may become used to the equip- ' ment He is permitted out of doors only when conditions are exactly right If he scratches his silky skin, he is plastered with antisep tic and put in a hospital. He drinks only from his own special bucket and his diet would be the despair of a French chef. The owner of one farm cut by a highway has a tunnel under the road through which his thorough breds may be led without danger from passing automobiles. There is a thrill in visiting the stable that housed Man-o’-War, Golden Broom, Crusader, and Mars. Lexington b Charming. In itself Lexington has a wealth of charm as well as historic inter est The University of Kentucky is there, its mellow old buildings scat tered over a shady campus. In the study room at the College of Engi neering, heavy tables, with tops fashioned of thick sections of a ven erable sycamore tree that once grew on the campus, are treasured relics covered with carved names of alumni. Another fine educational institu tion in Lexington is Transylvania college, the first school for higher education west of the Alleghenies. There Jefferson Davis and Henry 1 Clay were once students. The li brary of this school contains thou sands of volumes so rare that scholars from all over the world come to consult them. Ashland, restored home of Henry Clay, stands on the outskirts of the city. On the walk behind the house the magnetic orator and statesman used to pace back and forth planning his speeches. Through the perfect green of the Blue Grass country you may drive to High Bridge, where a railroad bridge 317 feet above the water , spans the Kentucky. Crossing the river, on a ferry, you approach old Shakertown, once the home of a 1 strange sect who believe in celi bacy and the coming of the millen nium. Another place of Interest in a swing south of Lexington is the old fort at Harrodsburg, where George Rogers Clark planned his campaigns. The fort has been re stored and is open as a museum. At Berea college you see the re markable results of vocational education brought to mountain whites. One cannot escape a feel ing of humility at sight of fee in dustry of these students.

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