WE NAMED HIM CALLES'

Messrs. Arthur Brisbane and William Randolph Hearst, who long have danced up and down the columns wearing the leering mask of the British war lord and the awful face of the Japanese warrior-samurai, have stopped scaring the children with stories of the air fleets to pass in the night. With several heartfelt sighs of relief King George and the Mikado learn that William Randolph and all the little pitch pipes in the great Hearst organ are now braying towards Mexico.

In a series of daily exposures of the innards of international machinations, it has been disclosed that the recent anti-American drive in Nicaragua had its inception under Mexican auspices. This received as little attention in extra-Hearstian circles as did the revelation that the Calles government was adopting Soviet methods in such details as the president's addressing his aides as "comrade". But the last accusation, that Calles paid a Maine lawyer $10,000 to investigate British mine conditions during a strike in order to insure the judicious expenditure of $100,000 which he planned to give in the name of the Seviet, has been fiatly denied by both the lawyer and President Calles' aide. It was claimed by the Mexican government that the documents printed in the Hearst papers were offered to Calles for $25,000, but that he declined to be blackmalled.

The Hearst sleuths have either done very excellent work in uncovering such a wasp's nest as the German plottings in Mexico in 1916, or they have followed a cold trail to a mare's nest. There is a wide gulf between what is acceptable to journalism and what is recorded by history. And the identity of this episode, no matter which way it turns, cannot help but prove again that verification is the divining rod.