TOM SAWYER FORBIDDEN

Evening Post, Volume CXXV, Issue 17, 21 January 1938, Page 14

TOM SAWYER FORBIDDEN

Tom. Sawyer was always up to mis-. chief, but Mark Twain's chronicle of his 'adventures has not generally been regarded as a demoralising influence, says the "Manchester Guardian." Many, vijili; therefore, be surprised to learn that it has;recently been removed from all public libraries and schools in the State .of: Rio de Janeiro as;part of a Government campaign against "subversive"' and '"Communist" literature. It appears, however, that Brazil is not the first .country to make Tom Sawyer the victim of a censorship, for it is now recalled that even in "the land of the free" itself he .has . at. various times been forbidden. When the book was first published the public library of Concord, Massachusetts, rejected it on the ground that Tom was a liar and, on one occasion at least, was guilty of profanity. The Denver Public Library, too, made a similar ruling, and the Brooklyn Library excluded Tom from the children's rooms though allowing adult readers to associate with him. Now that Brazil has issued its warning, how long will it be, one wonders, before the eyes of the German authorities are opened to the moral infection lurking- in this ostensibly innocent volume?

fog had rolled up and we could scarcely see out my window.. In five minutes it was as black as midnight, only worse, for at night you can at least see your feet when you look down, or your hand held out in front of you. You could not see a thing.. Not a trace of the houses or trees, not even the kerb.1 It was as if a concrete wall had suddenly been built across the window, and everything was.pitch dark. I can imagine if such a thing happened to you out there, you'd be all on your knees, thinking; the; end of the world had come.

It was the worst fog London has had for fifteen years, but a patchy fog. In parts of Kensington, while we at Hampstead were submerged, they had clear sunshine. In other districts there was a slight mist, but on the whole it was fairly widespread. In the city it was a complete black-out.

Lured by ,the morning sunshine, numbers of people took the family for a run in the car before '.facing the turkey: ait dinner, and1 were caught suddenly miles from home. All around London and in the1 country, of cars were abandohed'on1 the roadsides. Visibility was nil, drivers had no sense of direction, and it was dangerous to move; so they left their cars and cautiously, on foot, groped ,their way to the nearest underground stations, for these trains were not so badly affected. Thousands of turkeys and Christmas dinners were ruined, waiting for friends arid relatives who never arrived. Some did get to their destination hours late, but on every railway station were cold, hungry, and disconsolate people who had missed their train through delay in the fog. Telephones, * which serve cheap greeting calls, were inundated with urgent messages by people lost or delayed in the fog, trying to notify their home or their hosts. Buses, which, normally stop at 4 p.m. on Christmas Day, could not move in some parts, while in others: they crawled at snail's pace, the conductor walking ahead with a flare to light the way.

Those from: fogbound areas had great difficulty in convincing: people in districts less affected .how utterly impossible it was to keep their appointment. Still, it.was better f,ar that this should.happen on Christmas Day that} the; eve of the holiday./. It would have•.,been . disastrous, to trade, and most people who were going away had taken their departure some time on Christmas Eve. To many it brought no inconvenience; they just settled down to "a quiet, restful, well-fed day at home, and ■ the children had their hew toys to amuse them,

The big event of Christmas afternoon was the King's broadcast at 3 p.m., which was admirable, and though his Majesty-does not wish to Continue this custom every year, I believe the wish of his people throughout the world may convince him of their desire for it to become part of the regular Christmas Day tradition. When he had finished we stood for "God Save the King" and drank a royal toast.

When the King broadcasts he usually likes to "have the specialist, Dr. Bogue (an Australian), beside him, as it gives him, confidence. For many years Dr. Logue has been working with the King in an effort to,-:remove the slight hesitancy in his speech, and though the newspaper said that Dr. Logue was not at Sandringham this year, I know he was. He went up in the' morning, had lunch with the King and Queen and the Royal family, and afterwards they all played "Ring-a-ring7a-rosy" with the two little Princesses, and he had tea with them before returning to his own home for,'a late (Christmas dinner. But to return to the. fog. I had two friends coming over from Kensington for tea in the afternoon, but when I saw how utterly impossible it was, I rang them up about 3.30, but got no reply. About 5 o'clock they rang me. Apparently they had left home before I called them, left in bright sunshine, but when they turned into Marylebone Road, it was just like running into a stone wall. Suddenly they came upon it, just a solid mass. The driver of the car said that in all her 17 years' experience of motoring she had never had such a terrifying experience. She could hear the muffled noise of cars and'tsuses around her, but could see

station, and so arrive at my destination in time for the turkey and pudding. When I came home ' towards ■midnight, it was much clearer, but it rolled- up, again; on Sunday (Boxing Day), though not quite so ;dense.- As one person remarked,.. we had Christmas night nearly all day, and another jestingly said that the first course at most Christmas dinners was "peasoup." For it certainly was a peasouper, or "London particular," as many call this brand of fog.

-. I-think it was at its worst about two o'clock. There is. a .road junction under my; window! and at times I could hear the warning note of a motor horn, but see no car. However, when they got immediately -in front' of my window, I.could dimly see what' looked like a lighted cigarette, a pinpdint of brightness, which was in truth the headlights full on. It was obvious every motorist who came along was in trouble; probably some of those who had gone out for a run before dinner, and were determined to make port if possible. From watching these tiny glimmers of light, I could see 'that they were now on the footpath, now turning tip the drive to a house, backing out, trying again. ' From the, shouts I gathered that one passenger had got out and was trying to find the kerb, and direct the. driver. At one time two cars, coming from different directions, met here, and there was a pleasant interchange. They backed and dodged, and manoeuvred, now up against a tree, now backing into the lamppost; it was a case of feeling the way. However, they all eventually disappeared, swallowed up in the fog.

There is always one .delivery by the postman on Christmas morning, and how they got around I don't know, but in the early afternoon the last stragglers of the, Christmas mail were thrust into my box, and these: heroes of Christmas completed their gigantic task. It was all sorted and delivered, and only the torn, damaged, and parcel whose address had been lost, remained in the office. , And - among them were many of fat turkey, undelivered and unclaimed. So perhaps a tin of pork and beans was rushed up to fill the gap, unless the Bird was destined to be a surprise. '

I. heard one amusing story about the departing crowds from Waterloo station. •An enterprising old lady, who had no faith in the magic of porters, or who was not. chancing the loss of her luggage, came on to the packed station trundling her heavy suitcase on a child's home-made scooter. .Two porters, seeing her, as they pushed their barrows piled with luggage, stopped and laughed. One said to the other: "Bring me my sledge, mate, I'm going 'ome."