Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 184, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 14 August 1918 — Page 3

Winter-Killing of the Hedge

By JANE OSBORNS

(Copyright, 19M, by the McClure New®aper Syndicate.) Forty years from now the old residents of Rosevale will still be alluding, no doubt, to “the year the hedges win-ter-killed.” Perhaps by that time there will be a little uncertainty in the minds of some as to Just which Good Friday 11 was that the United States “got’into the war," and just how long that war lasted. They will have forgotten that old Peter Conkling— Rosevale’s millionaire —didn’t subscribe a cent to the Liberty loan and that Judge Robert Pritchard subscribed ten thousand, and that somebody’s neighbor probably poisoned somebody’s cat and that the doctor’s widow had set her cap most openly for said Peter Conklin. All these things will have been forgotten forty years from now, but not the winter-killing of the hedge. That is the sort of landmark in the flight of time that we somehow always remember even when we forget affairs of larger at more personal interest. “It was the coldest winter on record,” some octogenarians will say, “and I remember how the hedge twelve feet high that had been growing ten or a dozen years between Judge Pritchard’s place and the old Marden place was winter-killed, roots and branches.” That this particular luxurious growth of privet had been entirely blighted as the'effect of the unwonted cold weather last winter neither Judge Pritchard nor Hester Marden realized till weeks after the usual time for its buds to be bursting under the warmth of April sunshine. And It was after other Rosevallans, whose leks luxurious hedges had also been blighted, had come to the realization that the only thing to do to save what life might remain in the roots of their hedges was to amputate all the dead branches above,- that Hester on her side of the thick network of dead twigs and branches and Judge Robert Pritchard, hidden on his side, realized one warm spring evening that the old hedge would have to go. The hedge had been planted on the Marden side of the dividing line, so it was obviously up to Hester to have it cut down, although its branches had long since . spread many feet over into the Pritchard domain. Hester hesitated several days after she had purchased the last pair of hedge-clips in the Rosevale hardware store before giving her order to the gardener-by-the-day to begin the amputation. It seemed like desecration to her; she could not make it seem other than unloyal and traitorous to. the memory of poor old Aunt Bethiah. Still Aunt Bethiah would np| have wanted to let the hedge remain as it was. Hester was sure of it. She planned an overnight trip to the large nearby city for the days when the cutting down operation was to take place and, after having cast a contrite look at the old painting of Aunt Bethiah that still hupg over the marble mantelpiece in the old “front parlor,” made up her mind to give the order. There would have to be a first time lg that unhedged garden, Hester assumed herself. Even Aunt Bethiah could not object to her thirty-year-old niece going into her own garden under the circumstances. So as soon as-she had eaten her solitary dinner on the day she returned from the city She left the table and descended into the old garden. The sun was still warm and golden and the wood thrushes somewhere in the'Prltchard shrubbery were just beginning their long evening song. Hester tried not to see the change till she was actually in the garden. Then a strange sense of freedom and emancipation came over her. Already the plants and growing tidings in her garden had profited by the increase of air and sunshine that the passing of the hedge had allowed. The columbines and tulips were out earlier than usual and it seemed to Hester as if their colors were deeper find gayer than ill the old days when they were hedged in by the twelve-foot privet. And it was as if a new world had been opened and discovered to her when she first permitted her to wander beyond the line where the privet had once been placed, over there in the fairy land of light green leaves and foliage where the wjjod thrushes sang. She had not seen that realm for ten years, not since the -day the high board fence was taken down, and in consequence of that she was hurried away by Aunt Bethiah to be gone until the newly planted privet should have taken its place. Could it be that all these years that fairyland of leaves and blossoms had been there just beyond the privet? Hester was wondertog. '

And then camethe voice of Judge Pritchard, who must have been in his garden behind one of his lilac bushes all the time that she was inspecting her own transformed domain. Neither Hester nor Robert said anything very profound or clever or worth remembering that evening when they spoke for the first time in ten years. Each had known from the time they knew that the hedge had to go that their speaking would be the inevitable result. Perhaps that is why Hester had felt so especially guilty when she stood before old Aunt Bethlah’s picture a few minutes before. The spell cast by Aunt Bethlah, was entirely broken when Hester permitted herself to be nrged across that old barrier on the -reuse of looking at some especially

luxurious rose-colored columbines that Judge Pritchard Insisted had been vagrants from her garden and had shown themselves a season or so before. “I knew they were yours,” h% told her,“and that is why I cherished then), z so. I had the gardener nurse them like orchids.” Hester was kneeling over to touch the silky blossoms with her fingers. “I wonder how they dared go through the hedge?” was all she could think of saying, and then her eyes and those of Robert Pritchard met and,both knew that the barrier that had gone down with the hedge could never be replaced. ) After they had seated themselves on the rustic bench under Judge Pritchard’s lilacs, on the excuse of hearing the thrushes’ song, Hester volunteered the suggestion that it really seemed only a day since the last time she had sat on the same bench under the lilacs. And then 1 she wondered whether she had said anything that was too disloyal to the memory of Bethiah Marden, the stern old, aunt who had brought her up and left her all her property. Robert Pritchard answered this by taking Hester’s hand liLhis exactly as he had that last time, ten years before, and that, too, seemed quite natural, though Hester blushed quite as if she had been twenty instead of thirty. “You didn’t go away because you wanted to?” he asked. Hester shook her head. '“Tell me just what happened and then I’ll tell you something you perhaps never knew.” Hester had rehearsed the details of Just what happened on that memorable occasion so often to herself that the recounting_was not difficult. “Well, you see. Aunt Bethiah had ideas of her own about how girls should spend their time and so long as I read poetry and novels and did embroidery in thegarden she was satisfied. But when 1 Improved my time talking to you instead, she was distressed. So long as that high board fence was here she was satisfied. I was quite safe in ths garden. Then the Neighborhood association decided to have all fences down, and though Aunt Bethiah fought it, the association had its way, She planted the hedge and took me off for four years in France —she said she hadintended to take me, anyway, and perhaps she had. I would have liked going better if it had not seemed likt punishment for talking to you those days when the fence was down before we started. It was just about this time of the year, wasn’t it? “And then by the time we came back the hedge was high enough for a protection and you had forgotten al! about your neighbor, and Aunt Bethiah was sure she had done her duty. 1 think the poor old dear died happiei because the hedge was twelve feet high and five feet thick. She used to smile so contentedly when people told her it was the finest hedge in the state. 1 really don’t know why she should have objected so much to our talking.” I was very much to blame,’ Robert Pritchard explained. “I was twenty-five then, and went .about things differently than I would now. You see I made the Neighborhood association vote to have the fences taken down. It was my first attempt at civic Improvement, and no one but Aunt Bethiah suspected my motive. She called at my office and told me hei opinion of me and I got as hot-headec as she was and told her that I wantec to marry you and intended to do it I’d spent the evening here by the lilacs with you then and I knew my heart. 1 didn’t believe the good lady when she told me that you had told her I annoyed you and had asked "to be taken away, so I can’t hold it up against her. I’ve wanted, though, to hear you say that it wasn’t so.”

“And I really think Aunt Bethlab liked you all along—do you believe she Is So very cross because we are sitting here again under the lilac bush?” Judge Pritchard would have liked to Wfjust then that he was entirely indifferent as to whether Aunt Bethiah approved or not —but so completely was he concerned w’ith the realization that he had within his reach the love of the woman of his dreams that he had no thoughts for the other woman who had separated them ten years before. * l

Why We Hear Heart Throbs.

The cause of the sound of nprmal heart < beats has not been definitely ascertained. There are normally two sounds —the’ first, -which is called systolic, is dull and somewhat prolonged; it is followed quickly by the second, called dmstolic, which Is shorter and sharper. A pause follows the second sound. It is supposed that the vibration and closure of the valves between the auricles and ventricles 4$ one of the causes of the first sound; the contraction of the ventricles, or the striking of the heart against the walls of the chest, may be the cause. The second sound Is known to be caused by the vibration' produced by the the semilunar valves.

War Demand for Shoddy.

The process of reclaiming wool from all sorts of rags has become a task of increasing magnitude since the plac'lng of the government’s big orders for army clothing, special machinery being employed to reduce the rags to shreds, wash them, separate the wool from the cotton, etc., Cloth experts claim this reworked wool, or shoddy, is suitable for use in because, a warmer, more closely woven fabric can be produced, if used In the right proportion with virgin wool, says Popular Mechanics. For this reason it is used in army overcoating, but all other uniform cloth is now pure wool, according 1 to government officials.

tm? FVFX’nT. REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER. IN*>.

Resources of the Jordan Valley

THE district of Palestine which contains the greatest possibility of rapid development under a settled government is the basin of the Jordan. Here, in this great and unique chasm and its tributary valleys, we have abundant water, a rich alluvial soil, and a semitropical climate, a_ combination which under scientific direction should produce astonishing results. For centuries the resources of this region have been neglected, writes Dr. E. W. G. Masterman in the Sphere.

In the north, the fertile plain of the Huleh, traversed by the four tributary streams of the Jordan, is capable with little engineering of receiving Irrigation in every part. In some districts, at the head of the valley where this has been done, very striking remits have been obtained. In this district “red” rice is now cultivated. At the further end of the plain lies the marsh and shallow lake of El Huleh. Here probably a good deal of land might be recovered for cultivation by drainage. This was done to some extent a few years ago by deepening the bed of the Jordan a mile or two below the lake, and much marsh land was recovered. To the south and west of the Huleh are splendid corn lands, hence the lake’s second name, Baheiret el Khalt, the “Lake of' the Wheat,” Ip the Huleh valley a- a whole, rice, maize, hemp, and probably cotton could all be profitably cultivated, while other parts might be planted with poplars for timber, apricot and peach orchards, as is done with similar lands around Damascus.

The district of rocky, volcanic hill slopes between the Huleh and the Lake of Galilee Is scarcely likely to afford scope for Irrigation, but in the great descent of the Jordan, 689 feet in nine miles, 'there exists an economical source of power sufficient to produce, If properly utilized, all the electrical energy needed for public and private use for many miles around. To the north of the Lake of Galilee lie the two fertile and easily irrigated plains, El Bataihah—the Jordan delta —and El Ghuwelr, or Gennesaret. Of this latter Josephus writes: “Extending along the Lake of Gennesaret, and bearing also its name, lies a tract of country admirable both for its natural properties and its beauty. Such is the fertility of the soil that it rejects no plant, and accordingly all are here cultivated by the husbandmen; for so genial is the air that It suits every variety. The walnut, which delights beyond other trees In a wintry climate, grows here luxuriantly, together with the palm, which is nourished by the heat; and near to these are figs and olives, to which a milder climate Is assigned.” Fish Supply of Gennesaret

Gennesaret is watered by several - streams, some Of which in the deep valleys through which they emerge support groves of lemons, oranges, and other trees. They also supply a number of mills. With a proper scheme the abundant water reaching this plain might be distributed to every part, and the district be thus restored to a condition at least" as fruitful as that, described by Josephus as existing in Roman times. Jewish colonists have already In parts of the district greatly added to its productiveness. All along the northern shore, where some of the springs feeding the lake are warm, the fishing Is specially good; but, Indeed, the waters of the Huleh, of the Lake of Galilee, and of the Jordan" itself abound in fish _of which the larger varieties are all wholesome and palatable. The fishing industry has not yet been exploited for the benefit of the public. Debouching upon the lake from both east and west are several valleys which in their lower reaches contain streams that can be utilized for Irrigation, and in their higher parts in many Instances contain rapidly descending torrents, even in some places waterfalls, suitable for supplying mechanical power. The greatest of these is the Yarmuk valley, up which the Haifa railway ascends toward Damascus. This is the Helromax of the Greeks, and here shortly before the valley opens into the main Jordan valley there is a group of hot sulphurous springs, amid which lie the ruins of the baths and theater of the Greek settlement of Amatha, a health resort for the great city, Gadara, whose abundant ruins crown the mountains im-

Lake of Galilee at Magdala.

mediately to the south. These sulphur springs, as well as those south of Tiberias, also developed in Roman times, and of the ancient Callii'rhoe springs, visited by the dying Herod the Great in hope of cure, in the Wady Zerka Maan, are all undoubtedly valuable assets to the land and should be properly developed. They have, even under the primitive conditions obtaining today, proved of benefit to rheumatic affections, and are visited by the natives at certain seasons. The water of some of these springs reaches a temperature —independent of the season — of 143 degrees Fahrenheit, but all gradations of heat down to the merely pleasantly warm occur. , Immediately south of the .Lake of Galilee is a fairly level plain—once the bottom of the great lake which then filled this valley —which is a good corn land, while nearer the Jordan some of the lower ground can be easily irrigated. How far the whole 60 miles of the Jordan valley between the two lakes is capable of complete irrigation is a question for experts, but I gather from the views of one expert from India who visited Palestine when I was there, that water can he distributed over the greater part. It ■will need, however, a big scheme, which must deal with the valley as a whole. Certain spots are naturally well provided with springs and streams, and have in the past been very well watered, notably the district around Beisan and the Vale of Jezreel to its west, the Wady Fara, running from Nablus to the Jordan, the eastern side of the Jordan around the Wady Zerka (the Jabbok), and the Jericho district, watered at present in a very incomplete way, from Ain es Sultan (Elisha’s fountain) and Ain Duk.

Water Supply In Roman Times. In the Roman era the Jericho plain was also watered from the Wady Kelt by a series of aqueducts, the ruins of which exist today* and’the whole neighborhood must for miles around have been a mass of gardens, orchards, cornfields, and palm groves. In Crusading times sugar was cultivated here, and some ruins are now known as Tawahin es Sukkar, the sugar mills. Even today there are extensive fruit gardens of oranges, lemons, bananas, and dates, and a great deal of wheat and barley is grown on irrigated land in this neighborhood. In the various parts of the Jordan valley may be successfully grown, besides wheat, barley, and maize, dates, bananas, grapes, figs, oranges, lemons, apricots, vegetables, and In all probability rice, cotton, and sugar.

As the northern shore of the Dead sea is approached the soil becomes Increasingly impregnated with salt, and only supports tamarisks, reeds, and other salt-loving plants. The sea is itself a vast storehouse of salt, particularly at Jebel Usdum, where there is a solid mass of crystallized salt rising 100 feet to 150 feet above the Dead sea, of unknown width, and .running for seven miles along the shore. In considering the possibilities of development in the Jordan valley, there are drawbacks which must not be for* gotten. The whole valley is intensely malarious —in the lower, hotter parts all the year blackwater fever and orfental sore (the variety here known as the Jericho boil) are both common. Even apart from this the heat in many parts Is excessive for more than half the year. Both Tiberias and Jericho are delightful—though somewhat enervating—as winter resorts, but In both the heat Is too great to allow of white men undertaking heavy physical exertion there for the six or eight hot months, and It Is quite unfit for the rearing of European children. The only people who seem to stand long residence in the lower Jordan valley are negroes or half negroes (many of the Bedouins here have a negro admixture), and probably It will be necessary to import negro labor from Africa If any great development is to occur here. Those engaged in supervising and developing the land over almost the whole pf the Jordan valley should live in mosquitoproof huts, and their families should live on higher ground, 1,000 feet or more up in the mountains. It should be quite possible to run an electric tramway—with power generated from the Jordan —from the Haifa-Damascus railway station at Es Semakb, at the southern end of the Lake of Galilee, down to the Dead sea*

STRANGELY WEDDED

By JESSIE E. SHERWIN.

(Copyright, MM, Western Newspaper Union.) —Waldron Morse, seventy, worn out, had come to Shell Beach to die. Wilton Revere, thirty, at life’s choicest phase, had come to reconstruct a broken life. Because the one was exhausted in mind and b.ody and the other world-weary, the mutual seriousness of manner and face attracted each to the other. The older man. wheeled along the beach In his invalid chair, looked eagerly for the only sojourner at the famous health resort who attracted him because of his gravely sympathetic ways. was a poise, gravity and clearness about the younger man that led Mr. Morse to accept him as a person he could rely upon. The fact that he seemed to be well versed legally added to Mr. Morse’s ’regard for him. The old man was wealthy, but his affairs had some complex features that disturbed'him, in view of his condition. “All I fear for,” he told-Revere, “is that my daughter Ethel, if left alone iq. the world, would be at the mercy of self-interested persons who would not guard her interests. "ts I could only be sure of living until some pending litigation is settled!” “Cheer up, dear friend!” Revere told him. “Ydu may live for many a year to come.” But the next day Morse was taken fatally ill. He called Revere to his bedside and seemed to rely upon his continued presence as a solace until his daughter, who was living with an aunt in the city! arrived. Revere was fascinated at his first glimpse of the sweet, innocent face of Ethel Morse. He was gent for in urgent haste. Mr. Morse clasped his hand fervently as he sat down by his bedside.

“Revere,” he said, “you have been like a son to me. The doctors say I may live but a few hours. I have learned to esteem you, more, to rely upon you. Oh, my friend, help me to die in peace by consenting to cherish and look after my daughter’s interests.” “I will do all you may wish to benefit her,” assured Revere. “More than that! Revere, I beg of you to do what I suggest. She will have a fortune, she is a wife any man may be proud of. Will you marry her?” Revere was dumbfounded. He got as far as “I dare'not — I am—•” but a spasm of pain overtook Mr. Morse, and Revere had to call for the doctor. An hour later he was sent for again. At a glance he realized that Mr. Morse was dying. By his side was his daughter, pale and benumbed with grief. A stranger in clerical attire sat at a distance. “Revere, it is all arranged,” panted the dying man. “Ethel has consented —she could not deny my last wish. Be kind to her, protect her, make her life happy.” And in the whirl of hurried events the words were spokeft that made Wilton Revere and Ethel Morse husband and wife. He did not intrude upon her until the funeral was over and she started for the hdme of her aunt. As he helped her upon the train, he said, simply, quietly, definitely: “I shall soon be in Chicago, whither I shall remove my office to take up the affairs of the estate, as your father has desired. When any business occasion arises where it Is necessary to consult with you, I will notify you. I would suggest that we keep the marriage secret.” There followed for the wife a strange experience. Only twice in a year Revere came to see her, and then nnly long enough to submit some legal papers, and in the presence of her aunt. Then one day he called at her hdme, to find her alone. “I am about to leave the city permanently,” he said, "having closed up all matters of the estate. I have a confession to make. I am not your husband; that marriage ceremony was Invalid.”

She regarded him with speechless amazement. “I could not deny your father’s wish,” he continued, “and I fancied I saw a way to protect your interests in the way I have without intruding upon you. Two years since I parted from my wife, an unworthy woman, whom I have never seen since, but I am still her legal husband." “Oh, why did you not tell me before!” suddenly breathed forth Ethel. “It was unmanly, it was cruel, for I —l—” She hurried from the room In tears, and Revere left the house in a strange maze of emotion. Could It be possible that she cared for him? And he—oh, that fatal tie, that shut him out of paradise! Hope, doubt, despair were in his thoughts as, a week later, he again called at the home of Ethel. There was a certain plaintive expression in her face that seemed to upbraid him. “I learned only yesterday that my wife died over a year ago in a railroad wreck in Canada. It was previous to my marriage with you. I am sorry if this new complication distresses you.” “Then I am your wife, in reality!” breathed Ethel, a quick glow suffusing her lovely face. Then she seemed to totter, leaned towards him and fainted In his arms.

To lie there! When her eyes again opened, in her face was that which told Wilton Revere, that she him even as he loved her, and that there was no menace of another parting. _

The Habit of Self-Denial

By REV. ED. F. COOK, D. D. J

Director MiMionarjr Coarse, Moody Bibl® I Xne Chicego

TEXT— It any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up hH cross dally, and follow me.—Luke 9:22.

It requires self-abnegation to follow Christ in the way of everlasting

The self-denial of which 'she Master speaks in the text is not to be thought of as an Impulsive act, or as a spasm of self-forgetfulness, but rather as a habit of life. The self-denial to which he refers is more than unselfishness in meeting emergent demands. It is more than liberality in times of special public need; it is in reality a matter of dally practice. The Master no doubt places special emphasis upon “daily” when he says, “If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up bls cross daily, and follow me.” A self-denial which Is less than a fixed principle of life and less than a daily practice cannot usher a man into the comradeship of Christ in service. If ever we follow him truly it Is in the way which he here describes.

In the day of our nation’s glory and power, with the doors of Christian opportunity wide open in every land, we have failed to enter fully into the Master’s plan for his world. Christ has been too largely shut out of the life of the American people through a gradual yielding to the subtle temptations of great prosperity. We have accepted with Indifference his great commission and have put forth but meager effort to evangelize the nations. The love of luxury and ease has produced such softness and selfindulgence In the churches of America as renders difficult the response to a challenge which demands heroic self-denial and self-abnegating service. The American people have, however, been brought by the exigencies of war to the practice of self-denial, self-sac-rifice and liberality In giving to an extent unprecedented In our history. Splendid has been the response to the nation’s call for men and money. Both are being offered without stint The moving of the American heart in pity for human suffering, and the new evaluation of physical strength and moral power, have led the American people to pour out their wealth In order to feed the'hungry, heal the suffering, comfort the sorrowing, and to equip and protect our soldiers In both moral and physical efficiency. In the awful school of war we are learning lessons of great moral value. The peril is that after the war we may lapse again Into the softness and needless self-indulgence of other days. Weary of self-restraint and self-denial, it will be easy to rush again to the frivolities, and pleasures of the world and to the luxurious living to which the American people have become so accustomed.

In such a return to selfishness, seifindulgence and self-love, there are Imminent perils to our nation and to the cause of Christ Against such a peril our people must be protected. This can best be done by keeping before them the Master’s gfeat world-pro-gram : The enterprise of foreign missions. It alone of all human enterprises carries the full moral equivalent of war. It alone makes a like appeal to that of war—to love, to loyalty, to courage and self-sacrifice. The missionary enterprise alone presents the utmost appeal of love to God. and pf love to our fellow men. It develops as no other obligation or activity the sense of the Fatherhood of God and the consciousness of the brotherhood of man. If we would preserve in the heart of this nation the finest, the noblest, the best products in human character of this great war, we must make of America a great missionary nation, fired with a passion for worldwide service. To this end the churches of America must be held to a vision of the Master’s missionary program for the world. They must be led to see that victory for the allies is but a partial victory and the world-wide peace which the allies demand but a temporary peace, unless we hold the “salient * already driven into heathen darkness, and resolutely drive on to fullest success in the foreign mission enterprise. There is no possible basis of permanent world-peace which does not take account of Christ and his kingdom on earth. It is of supreme Importance, therefore, that we bear with new interest and resolution the Master’s challenge to self-denial. Having learned in war through love of country the meaning of willing self-sacrifice, let us now for love pf, Christ learn the full meaning of following him in sacrificial MtF ,ce * - >231

life, and utmost self-denial to enter,fully with him into his program for the worm. In man’s relation to Jesus Christ selfdenial hi an essential mark of disdplesldp, and a first requisite to reality of spiritual- experience.. In man’s relation to man and to world betterment self-denial is fundamental to all effective ministry of the Gospel.