Evening Republican, Volume 14, Number 216, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 10 September 1910 — Page 3

THEPRICEWEPAYTOCONQUFRTAEAIR

You are a thousand feet in , the air. Your engine Is working evenly find your seasoned propellers ■are beating the air with an even roar that half deafens you. The wind of

■the open spaces sings in your ears. The wide wipgs are lifting you, steadily higher and higher in great sweeping circles as you climb the air ladder toward the zenith. The world lies ■spread out beneath you like a colored tnap. You feel as free as the birds if the air; you long to measure your '4peed with the eagles. Suddenly there is a crashing explosion behind and beneath you, and the •wide and steady planes seem to ■crumple up like a sick crow’s wings. The earth seems to leap up to meet you, and the rushing gale of air seems to tear the breath from your lungs. Your senses reel as the tremendous l>ull of gravity hurls you and your broken machine and coughing engine to the earth. Earth and sky seem to ruh together in an awful burst of flame, -and blackness and blessed oblivion ■blot out the clouds and the good green ■earth for you forever. , It must be in some Wch manner that the aviator dies, "there is but little evidence of the feelings that riot through the human brain when .dropped from the clouds to the earth beneath. Few men survive a fall of tany height, in spite of the number who are meeting with accidents in itheir efforts ty master the air. In eplte of the danger, which is admittedly great, the craze for the aerotplane and the sport of aviation is eteadily growing. Yet ten years ago ithe heavier-than-air flyers were mere chimeras of a scientific brain. On the seventeenth day of December, 1903, a thin-faced man hurled himnelf out into the air from a sandy hilleide down in North Carolina. The first of the wind riders in the world’s history made a long, gliding flight in a biplane 6n the hill slope near Kitty Hawk. Wilbur Wright was the first of the bird men to rise superior to the air. Five years later the brother of the first man to fly was trying out a new and powerful aeroplane under the direction of the offlcers of the United States army. On a September afternoon the strange new machine rose in full flight, carrying Lieutenant Selfridge as a passenger. Orville Wright was at the steering wheel. A guy wire was snapped by a whirling propeller, the great wings crumpled up, the mass of debris shot to the earth, and Selfridge, the first of a long line of martyrs to aviation, was dead at Fort Meyer. Since that September afternoon, less than two years ago, 23 men have given up their lives to conquer the elastic and yet stable element —the air. Within one week this summer eight aviators and dirigible balloonists have been killed. Some notable things have been accomplished by the earnest students and the more foolhardy of the new school of exhibition flyerß, but the price of success and mastery has been over a score of lives. Some of the men still in the game of flight haye been dangerously injured time after time. Several of the nations of the world are beginning to wake up to the danger of inexperienced and irresponsible persons making flights. Austria has passed laws regulating attempts of her citizens to conquer the air. Russia has put the ban on the owning of machines by irresponsible persons, but it is generally understood that this is because of her fear of the new distance annihilators in the hands of nihilists and the radical reds. In the United States a few folk are beginning to wonder how long it will be until something has to be done to stop the growing death roll among pioneers at the air. Aviators and aviation were openly condemned a few days ago by i Influential Journal of Cleveland, C—o. "To Those Who Exalt Themselves," the article was headed, and the following reactionary ideas were expressed: “The craze for dirigible balloons and airships should be legally restricted. It is unthinkable that the Creator intended that man should ioihablt the air or fly like the birds. He Would have furnished him with wings. iThe numerous deaths that have occurred from attempts to fly should warn man that his habitation and homo is the earth.” But in spite of warnings, published and spoken, the craze for aviation remains unchecked. A thousand inventors are working in their shops, Ann in the belief that they are in sight of the final secret that will wrest the mastery of the upper air spaces from the birds and place it in the hand* of

“wing riders.” The blue vault of heaven is fretted by thousands of roaring propellers and shifting planes. “The bird men” are dreaming dreams of cross-continent flights. The more imaginative of them catch glimpses Of visions of transatlantic trips, faster than the flight of the frigate bird. It tmay happen the hour of trial comes in the very midst of an apparent success. Engines may be working perfectly and even beat. The • roar of the spinning propellers may be droning a song of conofldence and security. Then something snaps; a guy wire parts like a stretched fiddle string, the roar of the engine breaks and sputters, or the big planes crumple because of some unguessed weakness. Then comes that terrible rush of air a& the machine, engine, rent planes and tangle of bent and broken framework bears the aviator to a terrible death.

When wireless telegraphy was Invented it was but a year or so until the country was filled with amateurs) all busily working on new theories of transferring messages. As soon as the Wrights, Farman, Bleriot, Panlhan and Curtiss and others had demonstrated that a heavier-than-air machine could actually remain in the air, in a thousand barns, warehouses and back-yard woodsheds all over the civilized world men and boys began to try to build for themselves machines in which to spurn the solid earth. Hysterically, the science of aviation has been taken up, and with a few more improvements the death roll will grow to even greater proportions. So far most of the men who have met death have been veteran aviators. Delagrange, Le Blon, Ferber, Lefebvre and Rolls were all well-known and Internationally famous in the air fields: But the moment came that found them helpless despite their skill. With the rpultlplylng of factories where the cheap fliers can be constructed will come a rush of amateurs into the ranks of the aviators. More deaths are bound to follow when these man birds have bought for themselves machines and stajt in to perfect themselves in the art of flight. The list of deaths is bound to grow as soon as the means of flight Is brought within reach of the average purse. A shower of would-be aviators from the clouds to the “too solid earth” will further demonstrate that the mastery of the air must be bought with human life.

An analysis of the accidents of the past two years shows that death comes in a dozen shapes to the daring aviator. The aeroplane Is a pitifully new thing, and even the veterans of the air are not always able to detect In their machines the lurking weaknesses. The first of the aeroplane accidents that resulted fatally was caused by the guy wire df one of the planes being placed too near the propeller blades. Selfridge died in this accident and Orville Wright was terribly Injured. It was months before he again took up the problem of aerial flights. It was a year later before death took his toll again from the ranks of the air workers. On the seventh of September, 1909, two men, the foremost aviators in their respective countries, met their deaths. Rossi was engaged in testing a machine of his own invention near Rome, and after a few shqrt and successful flights at a low altitude he tilted his planes upward at a considerable angle and shot into the air for an ambitious trial. He had barely reached a height of CO feet till some of the intricate machinery gave way and he was dashed to death. M. Lefebvre, a well-known aeronaut of France, was killed on the same day while soaring above- .Tuvlssy in a Wright biplane. Two weeks later the pride of the Frenchmen in aeronautics, Capt Louis Ferdinand Ferber, a pioneer in the art of flying, was killed In a peculiar accident, one of the many unexplainable Ones that mark the chronology of flight. He was soaring oyer a field near Boulogne, wifefi hi%4mohine ."turned turtle” in the Air. y - \ ; --~e -

It was thought that he had pblnted the plane tips of his flier toward the earth in an effort to make a landing and in some manner the planes were capsized. He was crushed to' death beneath his

heavy motor in the fall. The French have been the heaviest losers In life of any of the natlops interested in aeronautics. Half a score of daring and temperamental Frenchmen have paid wjth their lives the penalty for venturing into the sky spaces on frail machines of silk, aluminum and piano wire. The Germans are the next heaviest losers In life and property. The wrecking of the numerous rigid and semi-rigid dirigibles of the Zeppelin and Parseval types has hit hard the backers of the German idea in aeronautics. The casualties for the year 1909'were terminated by the death of the Spanish aviator, Fernandez, at Nice, on December 6. He was a martyr to the idea Of lightness In aeroplane construction. His death was undoubtedly caused by trying to fly with a motor that was entirely too light for the strain it had to bear during his determined flights. While sweeping in great circles over the aviation grounds of the French city the tiny motor gave way with a splitting crash. The watchers turned their heads aWay while the swift fall lasted. In spite of the warning conveyed in his death, many aviators even yet are sacrificing safety for lightness in their , engines. Delagrange, who was killed in the first week of January, 1910, made the opposing mistake of having an {engine whose weight was too great for his wing area. His planes were not sufficiently large to bear up under the weight of his heavy motor, when under the strain of full flight. Delagrange was the first aviator to carry a passengef* with "him in .his aerial trips. Mrs. Pettier, the first woman passenger in the history of the aeroplane, made a flight with him in July, 1908. . ’

After the death of Delagrange, the first few months of 1910 were devoid of fatal accidents. Aviation meetings .were going on late In the winter in America, southern Europe and, in Egypt. It was April in the present year before Le Blon was killed on the Spanish seaeoast at San Sebastian. Le Blon was the idol of the more daring aviators. He had attracted international attention by his remarkable flights at Doncaster, England, late In October of the previous year. He had dared the winds to do their worst in a 16-mile flight on October 19, and on the next day he made a trip that all aviators, even his nervous fellowcountrymen, characterized as foolhardy. A great gale blew up out of the Atlantic on the night of October 18, growing steadily worse through the night of the nineteenth. It was the sort that sweeps the “tight little island” every autumn, a terrific blow that comes roaring up the channel from the Atlantic, sending fishermen and channel shipping scurrying for shelter in some rock-bound harbor.

In the midst of this great gale the Frenchman announced that he was gblng to make a flight. In aeronautical records the flight that he made that day Is set down as being “a foolhardy flight in a great gale.” The death roll has grown rapidly in this, the summer of 1910. On May 13, Michelln was carried by a strong wind against a derrick, and in the fall that followed sustained injuries that caused his death. Eugene Spier was killed at„ San Francisco while practising “glider.” M. Robi met his death in a meet at Stettin. Wachter was killed at Reims. Charles Stewart Rolls, hero of England by reason of his • remarkable flight from Dover to -Calais and return, was killed at Bournemouth through a rudder of his own Invention failing to answer the lever. Kinet, a Belgian, met his death during a r_ecent aviation exhibition in a French town. Eugene Ely, while trying for the third time to make a continuous flight from Winnipeg to Portage la Prairie, fell from a height of several hundred feet and was killed. The dirigibles have been the occasion of nine at the twenty-three deaths of the last two years. On September 26, 1909, the French war balloon, the Republique, on its way to Mendon from the field maneuvers at La Palisse, was destroyed, Bhppossably by a propeller/blade breaking off and ripping open the walls of the craft. Four men were killed in the fall of 400 feet, that followed the utter coljapse of the dirigible. In the destruction 0 f ti, e Erbsloeh, at Lelchlingen, Germany, a few days ago, five men, including the inventor, met their doom.

CASSEROLE COOKING RECIPES

Fish Cooked in This Btyle DeliciousBeats All Kinds of Old Time Hashes and Stows. Beef en casserole.—Take 2 pounds of skirt of beef and cut Into neat pieces. Melt a small piece of butter in the casserole and fry in it two fine-ly-sliced onions and one carrot and turnip out into dice. Move the vegetables to one side and lay the pieces Of meat in the butter and fry for a few minutes on both sides. Sprinkle with salt and, if liked, add a little chopped parsley. Put the cover on closely and place the casserole either on the stove or in the oven for about three hours. Skim well before serving.

Fish cooked en casserole is delicious. Take as many fillets of plaice, haddock or whitifag (In fact almost any kind of fish that is liked) as are required. Season with pepper and salt and spread each with some forcemeat. Roll each piece and place in the casserole, which must be well-buttered. Add half a pint of fish stock (made from the bones and trimmings), sprinkle with chopped parsley, cover closely and cook for about twenty minutes. Another method is to fry three tiny onions in the butter before putting the fish into the oasserole. Then sprinkle with flour, pour in the stock and let It come to the boil. Draw the casserole from the fire and let the fish cook in the sauce for half an hour. These are the recipes for homely casserole cooking. The addition of a few button mushrooms, some highly seasoned forcemeat balls, oysters, peas, etc., will transform a plain dish into one which may grace the table of a king; and when once the art of casserole cooking has been mastered, varieties of flavoring, etc., will suggest themselves to even the most ordinarily ictelllgenced “general,” and the Insipid stews and hashes with which we were wont to be regaled become, happily, things of the past.

The LAUNDRY

When ironing starched clothes, if the iron is dipped quickly into cold war ter each time when taken from the stove the starch will never stick and the clothes iron smooth and so quickly you hardly realize you're started before you’re done. Powdered boracic acid sprinkled on lace yoke or'collar, then laid away for a day or two, then well shaken out, will remove the soil. Fasten firmly at the center of back tape or ribbon, which is run through beading in underwear. This keeps it from being pulled half out or lost entirely in laundering. Linen pieces should never be put through the wringer if you would avoid the little wrinkles that are so hard to press out Small tucks will iron smoother and look better if Ironed on the wrong side. If knit wear, bath towels, etc., when taken from the lines are smoothed with the hands and put on the bars to air, will be ready to put away by the time the bara are needed, for the ironed clothes. To avoid the unsightly fold so often seen on top ot \a sleeve of starched shirt waists, foldlat the seam, iron the upper, then the lower side, not letting the iron within an Inch or two of the edge; then open the sleeve, fold with the unironed part in the center of the sleeve and press carefully.

Delicious Dessert.

Gut even slices of bread not less than one day old, butter and stack three or four high. Heat fruit Juice left from canned fruit or melt a glass of jelly, adding enough water to cover the bread which has been placed in a dish deep enough that the liquid can cover the bread. Havfe the liquid hot and let it stand on bread until thoroughly soaked and then allowed to get cold. Turn bread out on plate and slice like layer ice cream. Serve with plain or whipped cream. When canning fruit it is a good plan to put any surplus Juice in pint cans for this purpose.

Hungarian Goulash.

Cut one pound of good round steak Into inch cubes and add an equal quantity of thinly sliced onion. Put onehalf cup butter into a large sauoepan and when it bubbles put in the meat and onion. Let it brown slightly, then stew slowly for three hours, or until the meat is tender. Do not add water, as the Juice from the meat and onion will make a gravy. One-half hour before it is done add salt, paprika, an<J a little stewed tomato. Be sure to add entire amount of onion. Is none too muoh.

Corn Pudding.

Scrape half a dozen ears of corn, lieat two eggs together, add half a teaspoonful of salt and a tablespoonful trf sugar and mix with the corn kernels. stir in one and a half cupfuls of milk and pour the whole Into a pudding dish. Bake the. mixture two hours and serve as a vegetable.

Water Sponge Cake.

One egg, one-half cup- sugar, onehalf teaspoon lemon juice, three tablespoons cold water, two-thirds cup flour with one even teaspoon baking powder. Beat yolk, add sugar, and heat again; add lemon juice and wa., ter. then flour, lastly the white of egg beaten stiff.

When Women Vote

It was some time after 12. The bell pealed loudly again and again, until at laat Mra. Sturtevant was Jully aroused from the deep slumber into which she had sunk so gratefully, after a most strenuous day. Slipping from the soft warm blankets, she sprang out of her bed, with a fretful exclamation: “Who is it?" she snapped crossly from the window. “It is I, Mrs. Sam Lloyd!" came the answer, In a voioe high, metallic and not a little resentful. “Gracious, let me In, I think I’ve rung about 20 times, and I’m perfectly freezing!” “Don’t waste time asking questions, but get your clothes on, and come along. We must get to work at once.”

Arrived at the hall, all was confusion. Very few men were present, find they seemed rather uncertain, and for the most part undersized, and a decidedly henpecked appearance.

The women were present in goodly number, all dressed In .the dernier erl fashion, or relapsed Into the inocuous desuetude of separate skirts and neat little toques. But all spoke, and generally all spoke at once. Some severe oneß gazed over their austere noses with cold unfeeling pale blue eyes and “laid down the law." Some of the real,, old 'campaigners purred like kittens, with claws softly sheathed, while the newer recruits ranted outright. But ope and all agreed that the East side candidate must be nipped in the bud. Th 4 posters were gotten up In masterly style. Every few minutes some new idea' was added, until almost every woman in the hall could gaze proudly upon the work when It was finished and say ’twaa hers. It remained for Mrs. Sam Lloyd to cap the climax. “Ladies,” she began, In her cool, crisp tones, “there Is one thing more which ought to go Into these posters, something of which my friend, Mrs. John Sturtevant Is well aware, and to which she can Bwear, If necessary.” When the hum of surprised Interest had died away, at a request from the chair, Mrs. Sturtevant rose pale god confused. “I am sure,” she began, darting an angry glance at her friend, which that worthy lady refused to see. “I an) not aware of any Information which would in any way add weight to these posters;” and with an indignant shake of her plumes, she sat down. “Why, Mrs. Sturtevant,” exclaimed uie intrepid one In reproachful tones, “how can you say so? Didn’t you Just tell me on the way down here that your sister had a maid whose husband had run away with an adventuress of the very same name and appearance as this new candidate? Do you mean to toll me that you believe there could be two adventuresses with the same name and appearance running off with people's husbands, and forolng themselves upon the notice of this honorable body?” Allowing a few moments for this unanswerable logic to sink into the plastic minds of her hearers, she continued in a pouting tone: “Really, when so much Is at stake—when we rely upon you to help us at this critical moment, I do not think it quite honorable of you to withhold such valuably information.’’ “We cannot always think of our own personal feelings,” put in the chair, mildly. “But, when it is for the cause, why then really we must sink personal considerations and speak out boldly—nobly for the right” “Oh, if you put it in that way,” began Mrs. Sturtevant, timidly, “I suppose I ought to go in, only it was merely supposition on my part, because the name was the same and the photograph looked so much like the other woman —but I am not absolutely sure—” '

“Better sure than sorry," piped up a thin old voice In the back of the hall, which was soon drowned in the cheers and exclamations. “Of course she's the same one you could tell it by her pictures. You Could tell it by her pictures, if they don’t show depravity! Bigamy, that’s what It is, and she has a hu* band living, too!” , “And perhaps a lot of helpless, abandoned little children!” put in a fussily dressed little woman who sat wttn her feet turned in pigeon-toed, and spoke with a llsp. "Do we want an adventuress and a bigamistr* In large type was suggested, and despite the faint protest -ot Mrs. Sturtevant, who was suddenly being lionized for the first time in her life, the motion was put and carried, and the posters were ready for the printer. • It was with some qualms that she went home In the gray of the morning, la a fine drizzling rain, to snatch a few hours’ sleep before the morning meeting of the ways and means committee. „ -'V r But her Macbeth In the person of Mrs. San Lloyd had “murdered sleep” for her, her eyes glittered with feverish unrest; she had taken cold, and the puffs and braids weighed almost as heavily upon her aching head as the'posters upon her conscience. Just as her head was nodding In her chair, she was awakened by the chatter of the children with their nurse 1 overhead. „ A“Foot little creatures,” she, mur-

By MRS. PERCY OLIVIA SMITH

mured guiltily. She had hardly looked at them, lately. And then she 1 heard the cheery voice of her husband calling to her from the hall: “Awake yet, dearie?" “Awoke?” she repeated, “Why, I’ve been up all night!” “Well, you look it," he laughed, as he came to the door. “You look ten years older since • yesterday. Where were you?” “Mrs. Sam Lloyd—’’ she began. "That woman again,” he growled.! “She will be the death of you.” She flared up at once. “You are* Just like all men—you bate her Just: because she is clever and brilliant,, and can outwit all the political schemers In town!” “Oh, no,” he responded, lightly/ "She is not clever—no woman is clever who can’t interest her ownt husband, and lets him wander like atj lost sheep to all the clubs in town.’ _ “Well, of course,” curmured his. wife. “She is Just a trifle selfish. I’ll admit, but —”

“No buts about it,” be returned* quick to follow his advantage. "Iff she were a man I know what I’d call her, a ‘Ward Heeler,’ my dear, and f? wouldn’t be surprised if she isn’t pret-r ty well paid In some quarters for her cleverness—not that you’d better repeat this—we don’t want to be up for slander, but between you and me andj the bureau, the fact Is that I have it from pretty good authority.” Mrs. Sturtevant paled visibly, andi a net-work of little lines grew rounds her forehead. ‘Tf a person-j” she stammered, “a. woman, you know, should put some* damaging news in a paper or poster or anything—about any person or candidate, 1 mean—could? they do anything to them —I mean if the person; wasn’t quite sure, but only guessed: it?” John Sturtevant laughed loud and! long. “Tbis Is delicious,” be said, “onlyguessed It? Well, I’m afraid the guesser would have to back up the guesses pretty quick, or go to Jail, if the matter were pushed." “But a woman,” she protested. “Would they send a woman to Jail?" “Would they? Yes, my doar, that Is one of the privileges you have!* “John," she gasped, “I’m afraid Mrs. Lloyd Is all you say. I’m afraid she —that la—don’t laugh, John—l told her about Emma’s husband running away with that awful woman, and she had the same name and looked Just like the pictures of this new candidate, and I wondered if it was the same woman—and then she stood right up in the meeting and |old it — and I had to back it up—l couldn’t get out of it—they. Just colled around me till they had the whole story, and then they put it In the posters.” John Sturtevant paced the floor for a few moments with knit brows, and then drew his troubled wife down on the sofa beside him. “Now, Maud,” he said, wtyh more firmness than he had ever shown. “I want you to tell me Just exactly what these posters say, and Just how far you are into this business.” When she had told him all be frowned contemplatively. “This comes of women meddling in politics!” he exclaimed. Then suddenly a great light shone In his merry blue eyes, and » momentary grin showed a happy thought Then he turned and faced her with a frown. “I don’t See how I’m going to keep you out of Jail,” he muttered, despondently. “Oh, John,” she gasped. “Without beggaring both of uh to pay the costs of keeping It out, of court” he continued, still more despondently. “Oh, John, it was all Mra. Lloyd’s fault—l am sure she will—” “Mra. Sam Lloyd will clear her skirts of this, never fear, and you will be held responsible. Why this woman from the East side is a good respectable woman with more sense In her little finger than'Mrs. Lloyd had In her whole body, her husband is a prominent real'estate man | know him well. The same name—what is it? Amanda Browns are as thick as peas." s “But what shall I do, dear?” aka wailed. “What can I do?” "Leave it to me,” he exclaimed, as though suddenly forming a plan—‘leave it to me. But if I get. you out of this scrape you must promise me to drop the whole business. “1 wiU,” she cried. ‘T’ve been wanting to get out of it all along, i jtud hate politics—l don’t ever want to vote again—and the women are not clever at all,.they are Just a. set of horrid old cats!”

Before the hour set for the postere to appear, a much discomfited Mrs. Sam Lloyd was informed that therewas “nothing doing," for Mr. Sturt evant had put up such a good argument of conversation and cash, that he had readily convinced the printer of the risk he ran in putting out such dubious literature. “But lt*s cheap at the priee," he chuckled, afterwards, as he saw hta wife for the first time in weeks sitting quietly like a queen in her ova home with the children around her. “You are my own once mote," he aaidl “and we’li have no 'more old cats earring you off to committee meetings.’*" v.Xt:;"I don’t want anybody but you. 1 * she sighed, happily, “lust you and tha l children.” s i: ;