Tribune: All about Tencho-Setsu. "Nippon forces capture hill north of Imphal." Why keep up the charade?

"Malacañan Open to People." Granddad Laurel explains to his children ... er, his countrymen:

Someday one of your sons — who knows — may also become President and live here in Malacañan. Your leader, being one of your race, understands all of you. He welcomes you to the Palace at all times.

A piece of fabric suitable for a shirt or dress was given as a souvenir for the visitors, including the many who came to complain that they loaded their rice on the train only to have it confiscated because it was "contrary to current railroad regulations."

This afternoon, a large transport caught fire in Pier 7. American prisoners working inside were not in the area where the fire started. It burned for only two hours but my informant says the damage was serious. One excited Japanese bailed out so fast that he missed the order to stop at the bottom of the gangplank. He got ten slaps for his deafness.

The Japanese re-operated on Teodoro the Great in Sternberg. They told him the catgut the PGH sewed him up with was probably ABACA — so that's what the poor people have to take. He was well cared for.

Two more Metro-Constabulary men were shot to death today in Schaer's district.

The tires and wheels stolen from our Japanese neighbor — worth a mere P25,000 today if not more — are still missing. The new Japanese truck in which they used to ride downtown perched on easy chairs like aristocratic sightseers is just rotting away in the garage. It reminds me of the case of the late Garriz. One day after a refreshing cold shower, he dozed off on the porch covered only by a blanket. He woke up to find his wife berating him for his nudity. Someone stole his blanket! During a melee around a streetcar stop, another fellow reported his eyeglasses were stolen off his face. So anything can happen these days — and does.