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...rented ten acres and an old farmhouse near Torrance, Calif., for 27 years grew berries and tomatoes. Genzo retired three years ago, moved into a big, rambling home in Hollywood. There he sat last week, in U.S. clothes but wearing a black skull cap, peacefully smoking a pipe. Two of Genzo's six sons are in the Army. But Son Isamu Horino, 26, is a tough, wiry Nisei boy with a shock of unkempt hair and a stubborn jaw. He never did like the way white citizens treated him. (But he went to school in Japan for a while...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: U.S. At War: Moving Day for Mr. Nisei | 4/6/1942 | See Source »

Music. In Chicago, John and Xenia Cage, tired of the old musical sounds, gave a concert with a beer bottle, a barrel, flower pots, an iron pipe, brake drums, thunder sheets, rattles, dinnerbells and buzzers. Mr. Cage played the piano with his elbows...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Miscellany, Mar. 16, 1942 | 3/16/1942 | See Source »

...with Gaffer Sitherthwick and John Willie Braithwaite in The Spread Eagle and with explaining the mysteries of politics to a delightful collie bitch (who could talk). Then war caught up with Sam. As an auxiliary constable, with the help of an affectionate hound and a length of lead pipe, he caught two Nazi spies; later he felt forced to use his forbidden talent once again, to save England. In the course of that adventure he had to talk to Hitler ("Heil you!" said Sam, "Heil me!" Adolf replied) and, before he could get any sensible action at home...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Books: For Reading Aloud | 3/16/1942 | See Source »

...horrible prospect." Vag was sitting idly in the Widener Reading Room, where he occasionally came to sleep off a hangover. "I suppose in the long run it'll do me good, but it's still a terrible fate to have to contemplate," he cogitated as he pulled out his pipe, lit up, and disregarding the scandalized stares of the surrounding inmates, took in a long drag of the sweet-tasting smoke...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: THE VAGABOND | 3/4/1942 | See Source »

...what they mean by softness," he shouted at the top of his lungs; and the inmates looked up in alarm, each one putting his finger on the page of his book so as not to lose his place. "This," shrieked Vag, almost forgetting his hangover as he dashed his pipe to the floor. "Away, you manifestation of an era of physical and intellectual decadence," he shouted as he stamped on the offending briar. "That's what I am. I'm soft, flabby, weak. Remember Pearl Harbor...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: THE VAGABOND | 3/4/1942 | See Source »

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