TIME'S new series of hidden art masterpieces derives from many sources, including the travels of Associate Editor Alexander Eliot, who has made four thorough explorations of European painting, sculpture and architecture, quests that uncovered many works of genius not listed in the tourist guides. In Spain last year Eliot visited the monastery of Montserrat. After long discussion with the monks, he was admitted to the cloister, a rare privilege. While his wife waited patiently outside, Eliot studied the monastery's art collection, stood entranced before Caravaggio's Saint Jerome. On his return, TIME got permission to reproduce the picture, flew Photographer Eric Schaal from Switzerland to make the copy for this week's Art story.

IN the war on cancer, an army of investigators is engaged in history's biggest campaign against a single group of diseases, intensively studying everything that lives, from man through beasts and birds to mushrooms, molds and the lowly virus that causes a mottling disease in tobacco plants. This week TIME, in its cover story, reports in depth and detail on how this crucial battle is going.

TIME has always taken pride in giving its readers valuable information, but we must admit that there are not many cases like that of Clarence S. Jones, 67, a pharmacist in Philadelphia. Reader Jones told us about it in the following letter:

Sir:

Back on May 3, while seated at the kitchen table, having a midnight snack, I took out my wallet, gave my wife her allowance and noted that I had $50 remaining therein. Came the dawn, and on getting dressed, I was missing one wallet. In a cold sweat my wife and I searched the house; for two solid weeks we searched the house, with no luck. I bought a new wallet, went through all the red tape of new operator's licenses, pass cards, etc.

Then one day while waiting my turn for a fast trim at the barber's, I picked up the June 1 issue of TIME and read the following article in MISCELLANY:

Cache. In Knoxville, Tenn., police discovered that the $150 for which John Maples was searching had fallen through a hole in his pocket into the hollow center of his artificial leg.

I couldn't wait; I rushed out. Reaching home, I unstrapped the contraption that serves as a substitute for my left leg since I had an argument with a germ several years ago and lost, and there in the bottom of the socket, wedged tight, was the wallet.

Coincidentally yours,

"Doc" C. S. JONES 649 S. 52nd Street Philadelphia 43, Pa.

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