Decatur Democrat, Volume 50, Number 26, Decatur, Adams County, 30 August 1906 — Page 6

..................... ....» ' THE SMOKE j of DECISION 1 . By Frank B. Wells ■: CopyrioW. ISO®, by P. C. Eastment “Move on there!” Bondell pulled heavily at his cigar In studied abstraction of the limb of the law. The policeman advanced a Btep nearer, bellowing hoarsely: “I tell you to get a move on you! You’ve been obstructing travel on this corner for a quarter of an hour. Now”— “See here!” the bundle of obstinacy Waved the emblem of authority into silence. “I’m going to stand here till Pve finished this cigar. You might as well rest on that.” The policeman made a move for the man’s collar. “I’ll give you an illustration of the way this city keeps its streets navigable!” he roared. Bondell smiled grimly and stepped out of range of the policeman’s muscular arm. Suddenly he became confidential. “A young sprig asked my permission to marry my daughter just a few minutes ago, and I’ve sent him around the corner on an errand.” “Well?” “Well, if he gets back before I finish thia cigar he can have the girl. If dTi 0 Bi Vj j I rM y \ / ■',S , / By “HOLD ON, SIR!” DEMANDED THE OFFICER “WHAT’S UP ?” he fails to show up in time he doesn’t get her. That’s the long and short of ft.” The policeman surveyed Bondell with mute astonishment. “It occurs to me,” he said, “that you have a rather fickle grasp of human destiny. What kind of an errand did you send this young fellow on?” “Not much of anything. Just told him to go down and ask the Stillmans for quotations. They’re gone today and the office is closed. It hadn’t ought to take him long to find that out.” “Now, see here,” exclaimed the bluecoat, “that ain’t fair! If that young man is any good he will hunt all over the Empire State before»he will come back to you without the information you wanted. You will have time to grow baldheaded smoking cigars before you set your optics on him again. That’s my opinion.” “You might as well go about your business,” retorted Bondell. “This is my affair, not yours. I like to see a young man act promptly, and I’m giving him this for a test. He’s good enough for the most part.” “He is, is he? Did you ever see him before?” “Os course I have. He is one of my clerks. I’m a broker.” “Oh,” sighed the officer. “I supposed by. your actions that be was some stranger you had picked up on the street. You are more intelligent than I thought you were.” “Now clear out!” blustered the broker. “Give me any more of your impudence and I’ll report you.” “You will, eh? Not till you’ve got through with that cigar, I presume. By the way, you ain’t puffin’ as fast as you might, seems to me.” The officer wandered down to the nekt "block ruminating. At the turn of file corner he met a young man dashing breathlessly along the walk. He promptly laid a heavy hand on th« young man’s shoulder. ‘ ’ “Hold on, sir!” demanded the officer. “What’s up?” “Nothing-nothing. Don’t detain me. Tm going in an awful hurry!” struggled the youth. “How do you know you are?” asked the 'policeman mildly. “How do I—you blamed fool!” “There—none of that! I’ll pull you to,” threatened the officer. “I beg your pardon,” the young man pleaded, “but you don’t understand how important it is for me to lose no time.” “How do you know I don’t?” “Because—because—why, there’s a man waiting for me up at the next corner. I have an important dispatch. The'man is an old crank, and I’ve kept him waiting half an hour already. He’ll give me fits.” “I don’t believe a word of this stuff,” solemnly declared the policeman. “You haven’t got any important dispatches.” “I have!” The youth glared at the officer like a wild animal. “Then let me see ’em,” the policeman demanded. ...

“I—that la, the message is verbal,* explained the other. “I told you you hadn’t got any dispatches. You didn’t even see the parties you were ordered to see.” The young man began to turn pale. “How in thunder did you find out all about my affairs?” he gasped. “I just know. That’s enough,” asserted the officer grimly. “And I know another thing—you don’t want to see that old chap up there on the corner.” “But I do; I must,” protested the youth, making an effort to tear away from the officer’s grasp. “No, You don’t. He sent you down here on a fool errand. He knew that none of the Stillmans were in the city. You want to marry his daughter, and he wants you to marry her, but he’s got it in his head that if you didn’t get back by the time he had finished a cigar he wouldn’t give his consent He’s got through with the cigar. Now, of course, you don’t want to see him.” The youth stood wrapped in bewilderment “Heavens!” he exclaimed at length. “What am I going to do?” “Well. I’ll tell you if you want me to,” replied the policeman. “Then tell me.” “Do you really want to marry this girl?” “Yes.” “Does she want to marry you?” “I—she—said she did.” . “All right Do you know where she is?” “I do.” “How long would it take you to have the matter straightened out ceremony performed, and all that?” The young man calculated rapidly. “Two hours would be sufficient,” h« announced. “Then get about it quick. I’ll tend to the old man.” The policeman turned and sauntered back to where Bondell was still standing. “Have you seen your man yet?” the officer inquired. “No!” the broker thundered. “He won’t get the girl, you can bank on that.” “How was he dressed?” asked the officer. “Light brown suit, blue tie, black derby hat”— “Then it was he. Great heavens!” broke in the policeman. “Was what? Tell me!” exclaimed Bondell. “He was run over by an automobile a few minutes ago and taken to the hospital.” “My God! And I was to blame! Which hospital?” the broker asked frantically. “I’m sorry,” replied the officer, “but I can’t tell you. If you want to see him you’ll have to make the circuit of them all.” Late that night Bondell returned to his home after a fruitless search for the unfortunate lover. As he was mounting the steps a cab halted at the curb. “Papa,” came a wee voice, “Henry and I have been married tonight, and you’ll forgive your own little girl, won’t you?” The broker staggered down the steps with arms outstretched. “God bless you both!” he exclaimed fervently. Wild Beads of New York City. As a matter of fact, it is not very generally known that wild trout may be taken and wild game killed within the corporate limits of New York city. Certainly I have found but few that seemed to know that foxes, and not always foxes bred for the purpose, but the genuine wild Reynard, are chased on Staten Island. The city limits are very extended. A good slice is taken off Westchester county at the north, the whole of one end of Long Island at the east, while Staten Island entire is included at the south. There are wooded districts within these boundaries—brushy hills and swampy thickets—some of them well nigh inaccessible. There are fresh water streams and lakes, and there are vast areas of salt water; also there are wide set meadows or marsh lands where the waters of ocean and bay and sound swept long ago and where salt creeks and inlets still make and ebb with the tide. Such haunts as these are ideal, and the creatures that have held them against three centuries of civilization are not to be easily driven away.—Albert Bigelow Paine in Metropolitan. The Hardest Blow. An artist who has attained fame and an income was telling sdme friends of his, early struggles. “I had spent eight weeks on the picture,” he said, “and had put my very soul into it, and we were penniless. My wife was hungry and in rags, the baby was sickly and I was discouraged. I hawked that picture about town desperately, only to bring it home that night. No one would have it” “I suppose that was the hardest blow of your life,” suggested a sympathetic friend. “Oh, no, it wasn’t, either. I could stand that I knew I was right But next day I went out to answer every promising advertisement. The last on the list read, ‘Dishwasher wanted.’ “I felt secure of that, so saved it tor the last. But when I applied the greasy proprietor of the restaurant looked'me' over with a critical eye. “ ‘Ah, yes,’ he said, ‘and what experience as a dishwasher have you had?* i “Os course I hadn’t any, and he would not take me. I’ve never forgiven him for that awful jolt to my pride.” t I The Reform Fell Throuffh. The Man—Now, look here, Helen, , we’re going to run this household on a 3 more methodical system. Everything , in its place, so that we will know ? where everything is kept. _ His M ife—Oh, bow nice! Now, let’s ; begin with your late hours, dear. I should dearly like to know where they are kqpt,--Lippincott's Magazine.

DKINK WHEN YOU EAT TAKE AS MUCH WATER AS YOU WANT WITH YOUR MEALS. It la Excellent For the Diseation, It la Claimed, aa Neither Gastric Juice Nor Pepsin Work Properly Unless Largely Diluted With Water. How much water should we drink and when should we drink it are questions so simple that at first sight their discussion * seems superfluous. One would naturally answer, “Drink all the water you wish when you are thirsty,” but authorities say, “Drink more than you wish when you are not thirsty,” for they recommend that a gallon or so be drunk between meals, which is more water than we need and the very time the system least demands it. Usually we experience thirst during or directly after eating. Inasmuch as 87 per cent of the whole body is water, which is, of course, being used up every moment, there is ne question that we should drink of this element copiously, but it is a serious question whether we should refrain from water at meals—the time we particularly desire it There is a class of persons, ever growing more numerous, that believes that whatever is is wrong. For the natural and simple they would substitute the artificial and complicated. To drink water while or directly after eating is a natural instinct. Give a dog his dinner, putting a bowl of water near it and observe that he will first eat all he can and then immediately drink. Wild animals look for a stream after feeding. Cage birds will stop pecking at seed to peck at water. Children have a perpetual thirst, and I have seen babies that, unlike young Oliver, have refused to eat more when denied water after every few mouthfuls. It is especially important that babies be given what water they wish and at the time they wish it, which is usually at table. The thinner food is the more easily and thoroughly is it digested; in fact, it cannot be digested until it has been made liquid by the gastric and intestinal juices. Indigestion is caused often by food that has not been sufficiently moistened by the digestive secretions. There are sound physiological reafor our craving water with meals. Water is the solvent that constitutes 95 per cent of the, gastric juice. Now, when one eats a hearty meal and does not drink, the amount of water in the stomach is not sufficient thoroughly to moisten the great quantity of food, and this makes digestion difficult. On the other hand, when enough water is ingested with the food the latter is well moistened and broken up, the digestible particles being then readily acted on by the gastric juice and afterward absorbed. Again, when the partially digested food (chyme) passes into the intestines it is most important that it be very moist, particularly as water is constantly absorbed from the chyle in the large intestine. Bad cases of, constipation are caused by dry chyle remaining in the intestines, where it sets up an inflammation that sometimes proves fatal, dry faeces, of course, resisting peristaltic action. The excrement of persons suffering from constipation is always dry and hard and is a potent cause of appendicitis. The idea that water drinking at meals unduly dilutes the gastric juice is nonsensical/ water being not so palatable that one is apt to drink more than his digestive functions require. As a matter of fact water generally facilitates the digestion of albuminous substances. In this connection Dr. A. Jacobi in his work on “Infant Diet,” page 67, says: “In experiments upon digestion of albumen with gastric juice obtained, from the stomach of animals it was noticed that after a certain time the process began to slacken, but was renewed merely Uy the addition of water. The gastric juice became saturated with the substance 'it had dissolved and ceased to act upon what remained until it had been diluted. In the living stomach this dilution is of even greater importance, for it permits of the im-‘ mediate absorption of the substances soluble in water and which do not require the specific action of the gastric juice.” Neither the gastric juice nor pepsin has any true digestive action 1 unless they be largely diluted with water. ' It goes without saying that it is not the food that is ingested, but that, •which is digested, that does good, and this principle holds good with water, which is practically a food. Now, when one resists the perfectly natural desire to drink while eating he may benot thirsty several hours afterward, but he is advised nevertheless to force himself to drink at that time. But if he drinks then, the water, having no food to mix with it, will go through him, as it were—that is, it will do no good. 'The importance of water to the human economy may be inferred from the' various purposes it subserves. First,' it softens .and dissolves solid fopds, thus facilitating tfieir mastication and .digestion; second, it ipain- . tains a due bulk of blood and the Structures of the body; third, it keeps substances In solution or suspension while moving in the body; fourth, ft supplies elements in the body’s chemical changes; fifth, it makes easy the elimination of waste material; sixth, it discharges superfluous heat by transpiration through the skin and by emission through other outlets, and, seventh, It supplies in a convenient form heat to or abstracts heat from the body. Some of these functions are performed by water in its liquid state and others in a state of vapor. Have you indigestion? Try water instead of drugs with your food.— G. Elliot Flint in New York World.

HEALTH”AND HABITS. ’ Tissne Income and Expenditure Mast Be Made to Balance. The day must come at some future period of sociological development when the instinct of self preservation will overrule the pernicious habits and customs of the present day fashions and necessity. Men will come to learn that tissue income and expenditure must be adjusted to a better balance if the human machine is to be kept in smoothly working order; that excess of either is a physiological sin which na- . ture will surely avenge either on the individual or on his descendants; that sustained work of the best quality can only be performed when effort is kept well within the margin of accomplishment; that -luxurious idleness and artificial excitement, when carried beyond the limits of u healthy counterpoise to the daily routine of active duty, bring about their neurasthenic nemesis as surely as overstrenuous endeavor, and that the coming generation can be fitted to battle with the increasing com plexities of life only if endowed with bodies that are structurally perfect and with nervous centers capable of producing throughout an average duration of life sufficient energy to enable the machine to perform satisfactorily the work whereto it has been set. A more vigorous public sentiment, fostered by an example of greater self denial and more rigid adherence to simplicity of life on the part of those who set the pace and lead the fashions of the day, would do much to arrest the downhill rush of the multitude: pronounced social disapproval of the immoderate use of alcohol and tobacco and the stern forbidding of both under the age of puberty -would shield the nervous centers from two of their most deadly enemies, and, though it might at first grate against popular feeling, the introduction by the legislature of an enactment whereby some form of compulsory military service was exacted from every healthy young man would materially contribute to the preservation of active minds in vigorous bodies to those who are destined to make or mar the future history of their fatherland.—Guthrie Rankin, M. D n in Detroit News-Tribune. CHILDREN’S GAMES. The game of hare and hounds originated in England about 1640. Leapfrog is mentioned in the works of both Shakespeare and Johnson. The game of hide and seek came from Europe about the beginning of the seventeenth century. 1 Blind man’s buff found its origin with the Greeks, among whom it was often indulged in by adults. Skipping rope is a childish pastime of ancient origin. In place of rope a vine stripped of leaves was originally used. The spinning of tops came from the Greeks. Records show that this kind of fun was in vogue at the time of Virgil. Kite flying is about two centuries old in Europe. Probably it originated in China, where the practice of flying kites is very ancient. The ghme of seeing who can hop the longest on one foot came from the ancient Greeks, among whom it was practiced by the youths for wagers. Cathedral’s Title Chain. * There is one thing in particular in St. Patrick’s cathedral in New York that you cannot see in any other building in the city, if indeed in the country. It is a framed sheet of paper hanging on the wall of the southern entrance that contains the complete chain of title of the property on which the edifice stands from the time it was first sold until the church authorities bought it. The only reason for Its being there so far as any one knows is to put a stop to the old story that the property wta originally purchased by the church for a dollar. To settle this point the chain of title shows how much was paid for it in the beginning, arid froip that point on each change of ownership is accompanied by the price it was sold for. Arabian Snuff. Snuff in Arabia is not used as it Is with us, although one occasionally sees a snuffer, but the snuff is ordinary made into a pill of about the size of . a robin’s egg and is placed between the lower front lip and the teeth. This manner of using snuff is common among the laboring class, and almost every cooly that is met in the street has his lower lip puffed out by a ball of snuff behind it. Arabian snuff is prepared out of the ordinary powdered tobacco, unrefined sugar and potash. Snecsing. • Sneezing is tbe> best brain clearer known. Many persons conclude an attack of faintness or fainting with a violent sneeze. Our ancestors took snuff from a belief in the efficacy of sneezing. But tobacco so taken is in part absorbed into the blood and hurts the system. Tickling the nostrils with a feather or straw will act as well as. taking snuff. Try it when you fed faint It cannot do harm. After the Race. 1 Owner (Irately)—Yes, if you hadn’t 1 stopped to take up that girl in your machine you would have, won the race. You were beaten by a mile. Chauffeur —Well, you know a miss is as good as a mile.—Chicago News. A Mistake. Hewitt—Will you watch my trunk for a minute? Jewett—What do you 1 take ipe for, a chest protector?—New York Press. • ■ > Sour Grapes. Mary —Pa has forbidden you the ’ house. John—l wouldn’t have taken it I anyway with the mortgage he has go* | on It

~ NEW ENGLAND TAVERNS. " I - ' Rough and Ready Liquor Laws of the Carly Days. In the early settlement of New England taverns were found to be a necessity, arid hence were established bylaw. They were usually under the sanction and surveillance of the town officials, says Mr. Hudson in “Tlie History of Concord, Mass.,” and these officials had to grant, limit or revoke an innholder's license, either as a victualler or a seller of liquors. The keeper of the ordinary might be a deacon, a military officer, a civil official or a deputy to the general court His house was a convenient place for convocations, important or unimportant, and there might be held in it a parish meeting, a military election, a council of clergymen or an assessors’ talk. So important was the ordinary that its affairs, such as the establishment of prices, the limitation of patronage and the quality and quantity of goods to be sold,.were regulated by colonial law. In order) to discourage the use of strong drink at these places it was enacted about 1634 by the colonial court that not over a penny a quart should be charged for all purchased out of mealtimes. It was also ordered that not more than a penny a drink should be charged for any beverage. This was done to make the business of dyamselling unprofitable. At another time it was enacted by law that every innkeeper should sell good beer,, “lest a traveler for want of it might purchase wine.” A law was passed at an early date by which a person appointed for the purpose could join a drinking company at a tavern and countermand any order made by any member of it for a drink in case he believed the member was drinking too much, and be could also direct how much liquor could be drunk. At one time no tavern keeper was allowed to permit guests to remain at his house “tippling in an idle way.” In 1664 a penalty was enacted for rude Binging at inns, and the court also undertook at one time to determine how much a man might drink without being considered drunk. POETRY IN MACHINERY. Glorious Work of the Modern Reaper a Fit Subject For Art. Poetry and art have these many years pictured the labors of men and women in the harvest field. From Ruth, the gleaner, to Millet’s “Reaper” we have read the long, melancholy story of the-toilers gathering with crude, wasteful, inhuman hand tools the crops of the world that the nations might have bread. Rightly understood, these two women, living so far apart, are pathetic monuments to the astounding stupidity that could permit such things when, as we now see, by taking thought a machine can release humanity from such senseless labor. With a singular perversity artists have delighted to paint pictures of foolish toil. Even now the critics tell us that neither the mower, the reaper, the thrashing machine nor the sulky plow is a fit subject for a picture. Never was there a greater blunder. The glory and majesty of our mighty harvests, won for the feeding of the world with so little labor that the vast wheatfields seem lonely, the smoking clouds of chaff and straw blown high in the air from whirring thrashers, the great companies of men and horses marching to the horizon as the plows turn side sweeps of sod to the sun, the gang drills sowing mile long lacelike threads over the brown earth where springs the growing crop—these and a hundred other scenes are fit themes for any poet. . In our fields are no sad multitudes of ill paid, short lived peasants, crushed and bent by the iniquity of the sickle. Why sing the sad song of the reaper when a grand, inspiring epic of the harvesting machine awaits the poet and painter who can see and understand?—Charles Barnard in Reader. Why the Dollar of 1804 la Rare. There are two stories regarding the rarity of the silver dollar of 1804, the most generally accepted one being the one which accounts for the scarcity by saying that they were sent to Africa to pay the soldiers engaged in war be- • tyzeen this country and Tripoli. There were only 19,570 of them coined. Another version of the story which accounts for their rarity is that a vessel bound to China with almost the entire mintage of that year was lost. The former story appears to be the most likely explanation. “See here,” grumbled the inmate of murderers’ row, “ain’t there a law against crool and onusual punishment?” “Yes/’ answered the warden. “An’ ain’t I-L. be hanged n«t Week?” “I’m afraid you — “Then what d’yer mean by sendin’ ' iffie a bunch of story papers to read ' that ain’t got nothin’ but co-tinned ■' stories in ’em?”—Cleveland Leaver. - 1 A Crase Defined. “What do you mean by saying someiing is the latest "craze?” asked the an from abroad who carries a notewk. « “A craze,” answered Miss Cayenne, t “is something that amuses otheb people, but in whieh you yourself do not happen to be interested.”—Washington Star. ! Horticulture. ‘Knlcker—Does your wife have., you water the plants while she is away? Booker—Yes. I just put them under the place where the bathroom floor leaks.— s .New York Sun. j. ' i The truly proud man knows neither superiors nor inferiors.—Hazlitt.

BANKS LN A FIRE CITI THE PRESSING NEED OF MONEY IN A STRICKEN COMMUNITY. Experience of a Chicago Financial House In 1871—Greed of Depositors and How It Showed Itself—Aa Unexpected Proposition. Whenever a great fire devastates a large city the first effort of those concerned with,the work of restoration is to get the banks open so that the press ing needs of a homeless population may be cared for. At such times business is done on a strictly cash basis, and everything sells at a premium. The consequence is an extraordinary demand for hand to hand money, since the merchant can use the poor man’s dollar to better advantage than the rich man's credit in buying supplies to replenish his flame emptied warehouse. The struggle that ensues to obtain all the cash in sight is full of human interest It has its picturesque features. On Monday, Oct 10, 1871, when all Chicago trudged downtown to see what was left of the city, great crowds besieged the banks. Some men were crying, others talked incoherently, and everybody seemed half dazed. An officer of one of Chicago’s greatest banks, who fought his way through the smoldering embers to the white marble hall which surrounded his vault, gave the following description of what occurred: “Although the iron door of the vault, had been somewhat expanded by heat; I found that the combination, worked perfectly. That reassured me, and after hunting about the debris I fished out one or two iron crowbars and by wedging them in finally opened the vault door. The Inclosure smelled smoky, but I soon found that the cash was all right, and so were our books. That made me feel good, and I got down to work in short order. The first thing I did was to look at the balance sheet and see what pur exact resources were. A glance showed me that by collecting what was due from put of town creditors the bank could pay everything it owed and declare s 10 per cent dividend even if it lost every dollar due from its Chicago clients That was all I wanted to know. “On leaving the vault I saw four men .waiting for me in what hid been the cashier’s office. They were among our largest depositors, and I knew well enough what they wanted. They were of very different types—one a shrewd money lender who had $30,000 to his credit on our books, another was a school treasurer in an outlying district who would have been ruined had w» not been able to pay him $25,000, a third was an out of town banker with $150,000 to the credit of his institution In our bank, and the fourth was a man Who has since become one of Chicago’s greatest capitalists and who had always professed his sincere friendship for me, It was a trying ordeal and one calculat ed to make each of my visitors show the real stuff that was in him. As events proved, this did not take long. “The little money lender grabbed me first. With a strange little wink he forced me one side and said in a half whisper, ‘Do you know low much I have in your bank?’ “I said, ‘Yes, about $30,000.’ “ ‘Well, I will give you $6,000 if you Will give me the cash right away.' “‘I won’t do that,’ said I. ‘Your money is all right, but you will have to wait a week for it until we get in shape again.’ “ ‘What,’ he fairly gasped, ‘do you decline $6,000? That is, a good deal of money in a city that has gone to destruction.’ “I answered no, that I would not, and told him in plain English what I thought of him. I said: ‘I am not knave enough to take your bribe and give you an unfair advantage over the other depositors, and I am not fool enough to do It, because I know as soon as you discover the bank paid its claims within a week you would sue me for the $6,000. Get out of here right away.’ ” “That was the last of him. He took his money when the week was out and kept clear of the bank after that Then the school treasurer came to me with a straightforward story of how his bondsmen were anxious to know how he stood. When I told him that his money was safe and that he would not lose a cent be burst into tears, saying the news was too good to be true.. The eut of town banker was also very nice, saying that he did not care to withdraw his money so long as he knew ft was case. Then the man who has since grown endrmously wealthy accosted me with the remark that he had come down to see how things stood. That gave me a chance to test him, so I said brusquely: ‘You know how things are as well as I do. Can’t you see the position we are in?’ ‘Oh, yes, yes,’ he. answered hastily. ‘I don’t care about the fire. We are all in the same fix. But I want to tenow how you stand personally. Have you plenty of ready cash? You cannot get credit these days, so if you need anything from the grocer’s you. want bard cadi. I brought you a little’— v “With that 'the man threw open his chat, dived down Into his pocket and dragged out a roll of bills as big as hie bands could grasp. Then he straightthem opt and divided them into equal pf les", retaining one himself'And banding me the other. He was dreadfully in earnest, but I told him I could not, accept die money and that 1 thought I could manage without it... He assured me that whatever he had would always be at my disposal. That man has always been one of my best triends.”—New York Post Hla Compliment. “What a lovely morning,” he said. “It is a perfect morning,” she replied. “True,” he said. “I haven’t seen anyfcing this morning that isn’t perfect” And he looked her straight In the facsei.’ . Then she blushed. ... _ J ..