Evening Republican, Volume 15, Number 12, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 14 January 1911 — Page 3

Soule’s Great Run

By WILLIAM G. KIRSCHBAUM

Fairfield was fdotball crazy. Everybody In town .discussed tbe approaching game between the Singletons and the local college eleven. Fbr weeks the townspeople''* had talked of nothing else, and every maiden in the place was sure to be a spectator, wearing the college color. Old Sam Jones, the leading dry-goods merchant, had done a rushing business in the sale of blue ribbons and other trimmings of that color, and it is no wonder when a movement was started fdr- a general suspension of business for* that afternoon, that he readily responded. The Singletonß represented a rivai college, a few miles north of Fairfield. For years Fairfield had boasted of its college, one’ of the best in the Old Bay State, and her citizens took commendable pride in everything undertaken by faculty of that institution. And there was nothing slow in the personnel of that faculty. The professors might be gray with age, but they were not ancient in their views. They were abreast of the times and had adopted a very liberal policy, which appealed not only to the students, but to the parents. It yras a popular institution with every one in town, and the morrow bade! fair to be a gala day in its history. Much was expected of the Fairfield eleven. The Singletons had faced the best teams in the Interscholastic league, winning in every game; while the Fairfield eleven had been equally successful. The championship rested on the morrow’s game And fortune favored the blues, inasmuch as a lucky drawing earlier in the season had named Fairfield as the scene of the great contest. This suited the Falrfielders, for it was only a few months back that the Singletons had marched off the Fairfield grounds victors in the closing game of the baseball season. And there was not a ball crank in town who was not anxious for revenge. Line Soule was responsible for that defeat, and he knew it as well as anybody. With the score 3to 3, his muff of an easy fly in short left, gave Singleton the winning run, for < Fred Browne, who was on third base, dashed for the home plate as he saw the ball drop out of Line’s mitt. Before leaving Fairfield that evening the Singleton’s painted the little tQwn crimson. The rough house play of the victors that evening will never be forgotten and that defeat was never mentioned except with thoughts of revenge. Line Soule felt it keenly, and no one thought of alluding to that misplay in his presence. As the football season approached he was as determined as when the season had progressed he as the right halfback had performed wonders on the gridiron. His playing had been the talk of every club in the league. “He’s the man to lay for,” “Put in your interference on his end,” and similar advice was given the Singletons before the contest. The night before the great game the Falrfielders met in the gymnasium and talked over plans for the morrow. Then the brawny youths wended their way to their quarters. Line Soule headed straight for the town, and some of bis comrades thought he had taken offense because of an accidental allusion to the defeat ot last summer. Binxie, the little quarterback, who roomed with Line, gazed on his pal making strides for the center, and then in a voice more emphatic than grammatical, .begged him to come back. “Come, old man, cut it out. Let’s turn in; we’ll be better for it in the morning," was his logical advice. “AH right Binxie, I’ll be with you in an-hour; you need not worry about .me. I’ll be in that game tomorrow, never fear. But I must go down town,” was Line’s reply. He walked until he reached a neat cottage on the main street. As he ascended the steps It was evident he was no stranger. It was the home of 'Duncan Butler, one of the professors of Fairfield college. A bright-eyed girl answered the bell, and when Line entered the reception room his greeting was: “Lida, I want you to go to the game tomorrow.” “Oh, Line, 1 do so want to go,” she said, “but I had better not; you know 1f it hadn’t been for me last summer you would never have let that horrid Fted Browne- make that run, and I mean to stay at home.” *T know, Lida, the boys think I had my eyes on yeu Instead of the ball that afternoon, and that is just why I want you to go tomorrow,” he urged. ”1$ it best. Line?** she asked. “Yes,” was the quick reply, “i want you to be on the field. I want to show the boys that you were not responsible for that muff. I mean to redeem myself tomorrow, and you are the girl to see me do it I want the boys to know that I can play as good a game here as I do away from home. Will you be therer With a reluctant "Yes” Lida Butler promised to accompany her mother, and Line Soule went home happy. As he retraced his steps to his rooms several of the Mlows were on the watch for his return. He had been gone a short time, and it needed no prophet to tell where he had been. £U» face was wreathed in smiles. \

Entering his room, Binxie sat in the lounging chair awaiting his arrival. It didn’t take long for the two to get to bed, but before sleep closed their eyes 1 Line had told his chum what had taken, hiin down town, adding, "I’ll show that crowd a trick tomorrow they won’t soon forget.” The next day dawned bright aW clear. The air was crisp and cool, and long before the noon hour the little place was in holiday dress. What business had to bo done was accomplished in the morning, and with the ringing of the old town bell at 12, business was at a standstill. The midday incoming trains had brought hundreds of strangers, many from other school towns whp were aanxious to see the rivals clash on the gridiron. The Singletons were the favorites, and their black and gold banners seemed to be without end^ The Singletons were the last to arrive bn the field, and as if to insult the denizens of Fairfield they brought with them a band from Boston. To the tune of “The Good Old Summer Time,” just by way of a suggestion of a former visit, they marched to the grounds. Amid hisses and cheers the Singletons and their band entered the enclosure playing this tune. The Fairfields were nettled at the proceeding, and with a deep drawn sigh of relief, that immense throng which had filled every space outside of the playing ground, awaited the result of the contest. The Singletons were Imbued with confidence, and after a short concert in the center of the field, during which they surrounded the musicians and joined in the chorus of a popular air, they entered into preliminary practice. Just then the Fairflelds ran in upon the lined playing space and the loyal residents of the little town stood up in their seats and cheered their favorites to the echo. The blues did not care to limber up. They had done this on the college field, and when Oapt. Soule lost the toss and had to kick facing the sun, the Fairfieldera thought they were in hard luck. Tho Singletons started in on the aggressive, and worked up the field, yard by With every down it was a clear gain. Their line bucking piaj was marvelous. Not once did Fairfield get the ball, and after ten nrinutes of this sort of play, just to make things pleasant, Fred Browne, who was on the left end, scored a touchdown. The cheers which greeted this play were deafening, but failure in kicking for goal cooled the ardor of Singleton’s friends. Then came that great run wbioh astonished every one on the field. The Fairfielders got possession of the ban in their own territory, twenty yards from the goal line, and on the snap Binxie passed it to Line, who made a move as if to dash around the right end. The Singletons were looking for this and had planned for great tackling. Instead of completing a right end play Line crossed to the left, as if by magic, hurdling Singleton’s left tackle and guard like so many fences and running down the whole length of the field, and placing the ball behind his opponents’ posts for a touch down. It was the most remarkable run ever seen on this football field. . The cheers were deafening. As he dashed down the field, Line recognise ed just one voice of encouragement from the Fairfield quarter, and as Lida Butler waved her small' blue banner, he jumped completely over Fred Browne and made for the goal line. Eaton, the fullback, scored the goal, and with the score 6 to 6 the Singletons attemptetd to retrieve their fortunes, but it was no use. The first half ended 6 to 5, and In the last period Line Soule again executed a dashing play after breaking through Singleton’s center. Outfootlng his rivals who failed to down him, he added a second touchdown to the soore. The yells from Singleton on the kick phased little Jenkins, who tried for goal, and with the score 11 to 5 and with three minutes to finish the game the Fairfielders held their opponents down, winning the greatest game of football ever seen in the old Massachusetts town. And It was all due to the marvelous mn of Line Soule, who had the encouragement of the girl, credited with having been the cause of defeat during the summer.

Boy Understood the Situation.

“Little boy, don't you know you are in great danger on that thin ice?” "How, sir?” ' * "Well, you might break through and get wet. and even if you don't break through your parents would undoubtedly punish you severely if they knew you went on the pond.” "You alfi't no gnesser. mister; if I, break through an’ get wet I'll be a hero at home an’ get all the sympathy and good things in the house.”

Aluminum Instead of Copper.

The hydro-electric commission of Ontario, who have charge at the construction and operation of the electrie power transmission system from Niagara falls, have decided to use aluminum Instead of copper wires, and have ordered 1.560,000 pounds of aluminum wire. .

ART THOU LONELY?

Art thou lonely. Little Heart? If, because I think thou art. - I have Joy as will as sorrow. Do I play the selfish part? Nay, for I would have thee borrow Balm from my own lonely heart. * - '. - ’■» We are youthful, and we dream Things world-weary people deem Foolish, and If we should tell them They would frown—or smile!—and seem Only anxious to dispel them: ■ r But we two must have our dream. Tho’ they- cannot understand— Heart and soul and mind and hand, Busied, with important matters— -. Tho* for sympathy, a bland ' Tolerant smile they give, that shatters Dreams they do not understand. Then to me. Dear Lonely Heart, Bring thy dreams of life and art. And In dreaming them together Joy and peace we miss apart . * Will be ours in goodly mother; Come, Dear Little Lonely Heart! - - - —Shaemas O’Sheet.

A FIGURATIVE CUPID.

He met her In the gloaming and walked with her a while; She straightway struck his fancy and swayed him with her smile; She pierced him with her glances, he hung upon her speech, And, finding them together, Love elevated each. He magnified her graces' and thereby made her glad, _ ! : She sweetly placed within him the girlish trust she had; She gripped his heart and held him a willing captive there, Be drew a promise from her before she was aware.

He met her In the gloaming and also in the street; With pretty pouts she swayed him and brought him to her feet; They rose, at midnight, sadly from where they long had sat; He kissed her on the doorstep and let It go at that. —Chicago Record-Herald.

A PRIVATE VIEW.

Sweet music e’er to me appeals And often do I rave about It. Tet I would' much rather do without it. Philosophers do I revere And I am awestruck at their power, But nathlerfs do I hate to hear My wife expounding Schopenhauer. In poesy do I delight And I pay much attention to It, But when my friends their verses write I wonder just what makes them do it. Finance to me’s no mystery. Trade’s not a subject that’s above me, But why do people come to me To try to borrow money of me? life’s laden with so many woes. To most It’s empty of attraction; On every side -toe notice those Who view It with dissatisfaction. And yet (through all the day and night Deep thought to it I have been giving) I notice they all hold on tight And all of them Insist on living!

THE MAGIC MIRROR.

The magic mirror nakes not nor unmakes ; Charms none to sleep, nor any from It wakes— It only giveth back ‘the thing it takes. ’Tls but the heart’s own cheer that makes It glad. And one’s own bitterness will drive him mad; It needeth not that other help he had. Dame Fortune maketh none to risfc or fall; To him that hath not doth no portion call; To him that hath is freely given all. They see themselves who look In Fortune's face; Unto the sad Is sadness heaven's grace; And to the souls that love Is love’s embrace.

MY GARDEN.

O my Garden, full of roses. Red as passion and as sweet. Falling net whan summer closes, Lasting on through cold and heat! O my Garden, full of lilies. White as peace, and very tall. In your midst ray heart so still is I can hear the least leaf fall! O my Garden, full of singing From the birds that house therein, Sweet notes down the sweet day ringing Till the nightingales begin! O my Garden, where such shade is, O my Garden, bright with sun, O my loveliest of Ladles, Of all Gardens sweetest one!

A DECK OF CARDS.

A deck of cards has many hearts But never falls In love: It has, I’m told, at times, cold hands That never wear a glove: Although the deck Is often cut, Tou never hear It squeal: It ne’er complains whene’er It gets A downright shameful deal. To draw a card, a pencil you Will never need at all; A hand of cards don’t visit, though It sometimes gets a call; To hold one’s temper In a game Is very litle use. For If you pick a two-spot up. You're sure to raise the deuce. —Smart Set.

GOOD NIGHT.

Good night! Good night! Ah, good tbs night! That wrapa thee In Its sliver light! Good night! No night Is good for me That does not hold a thought of thea. Good night! Good night! Bo every night as sweat As that which made our love complete. Till that last night when death shall be One brief "good night" for thee and me. Good night!

THE WORTH OF A WOMAN.

Whatever the wage of the world may be At the close of the tolling day. For a task too slight for the world to sea. As It measures men's work for pay.. He Is rich In the tribute -of rarer lands That reckons world's wage abovela the touch of a woman who understands In the thought of a woman's low*. —Charlotte Louise Rudyard, In Harper's Baser. »

-S. Weir Mitchell.

AS PHILOSOPHER SEES IT

Few races are won in a walk. ▲ right fight is half the battle. -i. ' ! j •. K'i . <*"l. •' v ' A word to the overwise is lost. Too many loose ends will land yvu In a tight place. If you have nothing to hide, nothing will come out. You can 16ve a fat man and still not want to hold him. You really can’t judge a man by the creases in his trousers, If the coat fits, wear it; if it doesn’t, take it to your tailor. Most tramps look well-fed because they don’t over-eat, and use plain food. When a girl gives you a lock of her hair nowadays, you can never feel quite sure. Many a youngster, in order to have a proper dressing up, has first to get a dressing down. Sometimes the brightest scholar in the school goes to work later in life for the so-called “thick-head.” If you are using religion for a cloak, the sooner you invest in a new suit of clothes the better it will be for all concerned. Some folks will tell you that, if they have got anything to say about you, they Will say it to your face; but you Will notice that they never say it.

WHIMSIES.

Tell the truth and shame the —family. Mind the pennies and your son will spend the dollars. Of two -evils choose the one least likely to be found out. One dimple carries more conviction 'than a dozen diatribes. It is easy to love your neighbor as yourself if she is pretty. A chauffeur may be described as a man who takes life easily. Riches have wings. Hence the multitude of millionaire aviators. The ocean is Inevitably treacherous, being always full of craft. Society has always a generous "come in” for a generous income. Many a woman has dro vned her honor in the pure water of an enormous solitaire.

SUNFLOWER PHILOSOPHY

We have noticed that mosti successful men have no Bide Issues. : Every man, like every corporation, thinks he is entitled to special privileges. If a man chooses to wear side whiskers he should abide by the consequences. The price quotations on alienated affections are usually a good deal above par value. For several months after her wedding day the average woman feels highly offended if her husband forgets to kiss her when he leaves home in the morning; but, after she has been married awhile, neglect of her husband to get up a bucket of coal before he goes to work in the morning is what makes her mad.—Atchison (Kan.) Globe.

DECISIONS FROM THE BENCH

Fame awaits the inventor of the feeless telephone. About the only people who never try to break into society are burglars. The person who likes to make it the hottest for you is pretty sure to be your coal dealer. When it comes to “scrapping’’ with the tongue, women are said to be unable to hold their own. The man who speaks of a red-head-ed girl as the one with the auburn locks generally has not only the poetic sense, but also good sense. The straphanger can usually be depended upon to stand up for the street ear company.—Judge.

TAKE HEED.

If anyone remains modest under blame be assured he Is so.—Jean Paul. Do not say all that you know, but always know what you say.—Claudine. Occasional depression no one can avoid, ‘ but ill temper everybody.-*-Feuch tersieben. No man can possibly improve in any company for Which he has not respect enough to be under some degree of restraint —Chesterfield.

DUEL TURNED INTO JOKE

Ridiculous Affair That Made Dueling < Much Less Honorable Than ft J3rte* Was, . In the swashbuckling days of the early part of the nineteenth century th6| dueling hero in France was Marquis Merle de Sainte-Marie, whose affairs of honor were almost incessant. One of these is skid to have been so ridiculous that it helped to set in motion the current of feeling that has since made dueling so much less honorable than it once was. It appears that one day there called upon the marquis one Pierrot d’lsaac, hirngelf a famous duelist. Now, in French,' pierrot means sparrow and merle means blackbird. O’lsaac struck himself on the chest with emphatic dignity. “Marquis,” said he, “I am a Bonapartist and you are a royalist. Moreover, I am the Sparrow and yon are the Blackbird. It seems to me that there is one bird of us too many." "I quite agree with you, monsieur,** politely replied the marquis, “and my choice is pistols, and, as is appropriate for birds of our species, let us fight in the trees!" Pierrot d’lsaac was agreeable to this suggestion, and, as, if it were not a sufficiently ridiculous thing that one man should challenge another because his name was Sparrow and the other Blackbird, the due. was actually fought from trees. The seconds stood on the ground below. V . At a given signal the pistols were fired and there was a rustling among the leaves of one of the chestnut trees. Pierrot d’lsaac came tumbling to the ground “like a ripe chestnut,” as one of Sainte-Marie, in a facetious mood, began to chirp triumphantly, in imitation of the song of the blackbird. D’lsaac waited till he had recovered from his wound and then challenged Sainte-Marie for the chirp. ,■ This time there was nothing amusing abont the encounter. It was fought with swords, and Sainte-Marie was badly wounded. The sparrow had avenged himself on the blackbird.

A Self-Burning Letter.

One unique suggestion coming to the patent Office recently is for a selfburning letter. Though the commissioners tried to keep the process secret the story soon leaked out and the suggestion was offered as a defense to the ardent swain who pours forth bis soul in endearing and eloquent correspondence in a breach of promise suit or in the divorce court helps to swell the alimony and excite popular derision. Love letters have always played a conspicuous part in the affairs of nations, and still more momentous role in the history of hearts, but they generally possess peculiar features that make them “impossible” In cold type. Of course, much depends upon toe eyes that read them, but no matter how romantic the reader, If the eloquence Is not Intended particularly for him or her, the sentiments appear "stilted,” “silly" or “disgustingly senr timental.” Hence the advantage of the self-burning letter; so far as has been lqarned, however, the “novel contrivance" is but a sheet to which a certain brand of very flat match is attached for a suggestion.

Premature Obituaries.

The privilege of reading the laudatory obituary notices which the premature report of their deaths called forth has fallen to many distinguished men. Emir Pasha’s death provided excellent copy for the evening papers long before the sad event took place, and more than once during his Journey across the Dark Continent Stanley was placed among the immortals. No statesman of modern times has dared to imitate the trick of Lord Brougham, who circulated the stogy of his own death simply in order to see in what estimation he was held by the public. Among modern authors Mr. S. Bar-ing-Gould was able to read his own obituary notices when his cousin died at tea. But an equally remarkable case was that of Mr. Justin McCarthy. During the time he was associated with the London Daily News a report of his death was issued one night from Leeds. It reached the office while Mr. McCarthy was writing a leader.

Grasshopper and the Ant.

When the cold weather began the grasshopper called at the home of the ant. “Go right away from here," said the ant. “You needn’t come around begging us for food. All summer while we were laying up our supplies you were dancing as if you hadn’t a care in the world.” "My dear Mrs. Ant," said the grasshopper, making a profound bow, "you mistake the purpose of my call. Knowing that your family has amassed a comfortable fortune, I realised that it is time you should take your rightful place* in society. Ah a master of the terpslchorean art, 1 am prepared to give you instructions in that graceful accomplishment in exchange for board and lodging. How can you expect to mingle with oar best people If you and your daughters are unfamiliar with the newest steps?” And he sent for his trunk that afternoon.

A Condition Deplored,

“Do you think a secret ballot prometes honesty in elections f’ “Can’t say that it does,” replied ths painfully practical politician. “Ths secrecy of It tempts too many men whom you have paid to vote for ro« to go back on their words.’’.

KILLING IN BATTLE

’ Lord Tredegar, Who Was In Charge at Balaklava, Explains Soldiers’ . Conscience- Took . Benefit ' at Doubt Himself. In a reference to the charge of the Light Brigade at Balaklava, in which! he took part, -Lord Tredegar has raised the question of the soldier's conscience. Speaking at an anniversary gathering, he said: ‘T give myself the benefit of the doubt that I have no murder on my conscience. lam not certain whether I killed a man in that charge or not.” ‘ , The conscience of the British soldier has apparently the effect of making him extremely reticent on the subject. Hardy ever will an old soldier declare thkt he has killed a man except .n cases where the feeling of avenging Inhumanity was added to the sense of duty In battle. When the Canadian Rifles were in England a few weeks ago they had with them a veteran of the Ninetythird regiment whom the young riflemen sought to “draw” on his fighting exploits. The furthest he ever went was to say: “I’m no’ conscious that ever I killed a Russian, and I was In maist o’ the fights, but I wish I had a sovereign for every one I bayoneted in the Mutiny. There we aye tocht o' Cawnpore.’ Chelsea pensioners and other old soldiers preserved the same attitude when questioned in connection with/ Lord Tredegar’s remark. The Crimean veterans would not go beyond Raying, "1 suppose I most have killed them.* An ex-dragoon who went through both the Crimean and the Mutiny campaigns practically repeated thd remarks of the Ninety-third veteran. ‘T cannot say, he said, “that I eve* killed any one in the Crimea. Bug the Mutiny was different. There w« were going to avenge the murder of women and little children. I was as Secunderabad when we used nothing hut a bayonet. We got them against the wall and killed till we had to gef coolies to pull away the dead so that we could get at the living. As w« left I passed a man lying dead, as f thought, on the grass. “I heard a noise and, looking back saw that he was sitting up and cover* tag me with hia gun. I drove my; bayonet so hard that I had to put myj foot on him to pull It out. I am anl old man and I believe it is wicked, but, I still feel a thrill when I think ofl the way we avenged, our countrywomen. Nor do I feel that I have m murder on my conscience.” Men who were in the earlier Egyj* tlon campaign have the same feeling. They are not prepared to say that) they know they killed an enemy. Thlsl view becomes more marked In thosei who fought with recent campaigns* where the weapons were of long range. 1 South Africa veterans say frankly that it is impossible to tell whether any of their bullets found a billet.

She Wasn’t Taking Chances.

I know one 6f these commercial' beauty models whose likeness is seen, almost everywhere—in cars, in railroad stations, in drug stores, on fences through the country roads, in magazines and newspapers. Nature had! endowed her with a wonderful head of beautiful golden-brown hair, naturally wavy, thick and long. Before slut became a model and white employed as clerk in a wholesale drug business, a customer noticed her hair. She wore it simply. In two braids circling her head. He asked her to pose for an, advertisement of a hair tonic which be had discovered. She posed in a dozen different ways, with her hair down. “But of course,” she told me. “in each pose the artist retouched my face slightly—changed my nose, my chin, my eyes, to make it appear to the public that a number of consumers of this ‘hair-grower’ had testified to Its merits; to prove to the public that ‘Fakertna did it.’ " “And did you like the tonic?” I asked. “Like it?" she sniffed.-“I never tried) it! I think too much of my halrH And then she added: “I never use any of the goods I demonstrate."— Success Magazine.

Mixed Emotions.

A Bostonian tells of a clean, well set-up young Irishman, who formerly saw service In the British navy, but who is now engaged in business at the Hub. 7 '■ “When are you going to get home rule in Ireland, John?” the Bostonian once idly asked. “The only way that we’li get homo rule in ould Ireland.” said the Celt, “will be if BVance—an’ Russia—an* Germany—an’ Austria —an’ maybe Italy—if they would all Join together to give those blackguards of England a rare ouM batin’. That’s the only way, sir,-we’ll get home rule.” Then, as he looked cautiously round, a twinkle of cunning was added to his expression. "An’ ths whole lot of ’em together couldn’t do it, sir. Oh, it's the grand navy we've got!’’—-Up. p! Icott’s. '*■' ..

Willing to Risk It.

Upcie— My dear boy. it’s a fact that the bacilli on paper money have caused many a death before now. JjlephdW—Well, uncle, you might let mo have a few notes. I’m very tired) of llfo. —Fhegsnde Blaeita*;