Evening Republican, Volume 15, Number 262, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 November 1911 — Page 3

HAPPENINGS IN THE CITILS

Chicago Has a Port of Missing Men

CHICAGO. —From the Graham ft Morton dock, at the foot of Wabash avenue, three men walked into the Chicago river the other morning. Four policemen wearily fished them out and left them to dry on the wharf. These three men are dally associates of the followiitg distinguished persons: . Jj. -'h A brother of a former, president's law partner. A son of . a millionaire brewer. A brother of a stock exchange operator. A brother of a Chicago police officer, . v ' Some day one of these four men may decide to take a promenade in the water and perhaps the police will get them out, and perhaps they won’t. For the four distinguished persons, as well as the three undistinguished ones, only “wharf rats” and their deaths would probably trouble the city as little as their near-deaths troubled the officers who rescued the three. . V There is a story called “The Port of; Missing Men.” O. Burke, dock superintendent for Graham ft Morton, thinks he knows where the port t is.

Steals to Win Honors in Fraternity

NEW YORK.—Richard Pacharz, selfconfessed embezzler, who had donated most of the $6,000 he stole t# the lodge of which he was the chief officer, and contributed the remainder to various charitable enterprises, met clemency on every hand when he was arraigned before Judge Swann. The court suspended sentence and the young man’s employers—from whom he had stolen—offered him his old place as confidential bookkeeper and cashier. It was a remarkable case of Its kind. During the eight years previous to his arrest, Pacharz had been employed by Darnet Bros. When the thefts were discovered the bookkeeper pleaded guilty. In making his plea he amazed the court by proclaiming that he had Spent every dollar of the stolen money in donations to the order to which he belonged and its charities. Not a dollar of the plunder had he spent on himself or his little family. _ % “My trouble,” said the young man, “is due entirely to a mad ambition for fraternal honors. <lt was the one great joy •of my life .to attain high rank in the lodge, so I stole money to make donations and give parties and

Trimmed by Strangers in Poker Game

YONKERS, N. Y.—When William Morton, who la 76 years old, came out of his little trance and felt hlkself over he realised It was no idle dream that he had been pnt back 6600 by his love for poker and his confidence In human nature. His belief that it was all going out and nothing coming in was strengthened when he read the following note: "Never try to trim a wise one. It not only does not benefit a man of your years, but it has been tried by thousands before you, and the verdict of time is that it can't be done. . "Publicity would be very bad on your credit with your banker, and we feel therefore that we can trust yob to swallow your anger and keep this afternoon’s sport to yourself." So that this Information might not get lost in the shuffle, it was placed

Guest ‘Jollies’ Waiter to Save Tips

S ALINA, KAN.—In the breach of promise suit of Miss Alice Bowes agdinst N. W. Sly, some Inside facta about how a traveling man may invarihbly get the best there is on the bill of fare at a hotel were made public. Miss Bowqs was a waitress in a Topeka hotel. Sly, formerly a Union Pacific conductor, and now a claim agent for that road, frequently stopped at the hotel where the plaintiff was employed. He "Jollied" her freely and she thought he was trying to marry her. ,Sly says he was merely trying to get the best there was in the house to eat The Jury took the girl's side of the question and gave her a verdict for 610,000. The girt says that Sly made love to .her and Induced her to go with him on Several trips, and wrote her many effusive letters. She could ndt produce {any of these letters. Though this statement was met by a denial from Sly ithat he ever wrote to her, she says i the letters were so warm she destroy- * icd them as fast as they arrived. Sly ; stood pat on a clear denial of every and insisted the whole ■vsaiQidr?*. • ’ wrh-.. J*-F t *

Hundreds of men have dropped suddenly out of sight. Many of these, according to Mr. Burke, are laboring now along the docks of the Chicago river, unloading boats for 25 cents an hour, and, like the three who nearly drowned, occasionally dropping, or nearly dropping, out of all existence. The casual attitude is the thing which draws the men to the docks. At 3 o’clock every morning a Graham ft Morton steamer in loaded with fruit. The fruit must be moved into warehouses quickly. Two or three hours of working time is as much as can be spared. Two hundred men are .necessary: The two hundred ihen are always there. They begin drifting down to the dock at nightfall, and by midnight they are spread along its length, sleeping the untroubled, sleep of the irresponsible. When the boat comes in they awake and, forming in long lines, transport the cargo, in the manner of a bucket brigade, to the warehouse. When the boat is unloaded they are paid on the spot ’’ Occasionally one of the workers disappears. After a week or two. his fel-low-workers notice that he is gone. They make no inquiries. Perhaps he has fallen into the river, perhaps he has taken a freight train to other countries, perhaps he has quietly resumed his place in a former life. The subject is of small interest to other men. - • •

picnics to the old people and children who lived at the lodge’s home.” Judge Swann could scarcely credit the man’s story, but his probationary officers found that everything Pacharz said was true. When he was arraigned the trustees of PacharzV lodge produced thejr books to show that their officer had contributed $5,000 during the period he was Stealing from his employers. They also verified his other statements about minor charities. Judge Swann replied that he was moved to clemency not by mere sentiment From every possible source he had received the highest praise of the prisoner. His employers had urged clemency and promised to take him back to his old job. His crime was not due to avarice or greed, but to a noble, if misguided, impulse. Thereupon the judge set the prisoner free.

under a brick, which Mr. Morton found in a small valise when he opened it to look for 63,600 he thought he had won in a poker game. According to Mr. Morton he met a few days ago a man frpm whom he won 63,000 playing poker. After the man had given an “I. O. U.” for the money he told Mr. Morton of another man from whom be could win a lot of money. Mr. Morton was told the other man played a strictly cash game and that he had better provide himself with 6600. Mr. Morton did so and the trio went to a nice, clean, vacant lot outside the town and began to play. It was a table stakes game, and each of the men put up 6600 in real money before starting. Mr. Morton bet 6100 and prayed fervently that his opponent would raise him. He did. , "Raise you 6400," he said, and Mr. Merton promptly "called” him. The other fellow said he had a flush, and Mr. Morton drew down the pot. showing his hand. Then his best friend produced a valise, into which he placed all the money in the pot Next heloffered to redeem his "I O. U.” and put into the valise what he said was 53,000 in cash. •

trouble came from |Mlss Bowes' Inability to differentiate between hunger and heartache. During his many years’ work as a railroad man Sly took liberties with his personal locomotive and mads many a flying switch on a lunch counter sandwich and cup of coffee. Trying to keep up steam on tough steak and cold apple pie Anally bad tyi effect and by the time be quit eating his meals in rag-time from the top of a stool his stomach was laid np for repairs and to get something he could eat at hotel#necessltated some kindly attention from the waitresses. He ■ags he was kind to all of them, for by. that method he obtained better service. In regard to Miss Bowes, he says he didn’t treat her any differently from the others.

A fad for fancy bags Is developing at such a rate that we may expect it to become a furore by the time the holidays arrive. These bags have every claim 4 to popularity and are a, pleasing change from the leather bags which have been so universally worn for many years. They are made of all sorts of materials, especially millinery fabrics, arid “a bag to match the hat” is the latest word from fashion centers. The most brilliant embroideries, heavy laces, gold and silver ndts, velvet, satin, silk and tapestries, fancy bands and braids, linen, hand embroidery and brocaded ribbons provide materials from which these' bags are made. They vary in shape from perfectly round to square. Nearly all of them are made on the model of an envelope' and the flap fastens with a cord loop over a covered button. Gold and silver laces, nets and cord play a conspicuous part in their construction and the tarnißhed effects are more effective then the bright gold. These bags are not difficult to make. As holiday gifts they will without doubt be in excellent demand. A foundation is cut from canvas or a heavy rice-net, and consists in the majority of cases of a single strip two and a half times as long as the finished bag. This foundation strip is covered with a thin sheet ot wadding and with the materials with which the bag is to be covered and lined. Plain Jr ,

SMART WRAPS FOR THE FALL

Many and Varied Are the Varieties Been From Heavy Polo to Dainty Jacket. Nowadays the wrap Is the thing for a coat of some sort is worn on almost eyery occasion, and many and varied are the varieties Been from the heavy polo coat worn last season and the gay-striped blazer to the dainty little jacket of silk worn over the lingerie frock. Thus it behooves the wdman who must count the pennies if she wishes to be well dressed to look out for fashions which may be made at home, for so great a number of wraps come high. One little mantle for evenings which seems to be designed especially for this very woman was seen the 6ther day. It was a graceful affair of broadcloth cut on the inevitable kimono lines with little or no slope to the side seams, making the coat hang straight and loose, the sleeves were short and the front of the coat was several inches longer than the back. The entire coat was finished in marabou, this furnishing the only trimming, a lining of Inexpensive silk made the wrap slip off and on easily while tassele formed the fastenings at the bust line.

“The Water of Eternal Youth."

The beauties of the Austrian court steed' a lotion which was so effectual in keeping the face smooth and free from wrinkles, even in the aged, that they named it the "water of eternal • youth.” Some one has recently divulged the secret of this wonderful, though excessively simple, wrinkle lotion, which in her gratitude she has simdubbed as a preserver of youth: One ounce 4 pure saxolite (powdered), dissolved in a halfpint of witch hasel —that's all there is to it Any woman can get these ingredients at her drug store, put them together, and use the solution with entire safety. To bathe the face in the same brings Immediate results, even'in the case of the deeper wrinkles and furrows. This is also effective for hanging cheeks and double chin. — Home Queen.

Stenclling.

This work is done simply by going over the opening in the pattern with a soft brush dipped in dissolved dye. Care must be taken to prevent the dye from running under the edge of the pattern. To prevent stenciling from fading,try this plan: After the stenciling is done dip clean white cloths in salt water. Place the work between the wet cloths and press till dry with a hot flatiron.

Guipure Lace Again.

The revival of White lace for gowns has brought about the use of guipure, which is one of the . best of the heavy laoea. It is used in its original light ten color, and effective Empire gowns of It are made over black mousselise, which is hemstitched wherever It shows, and is touched off with narrow velvet ribbon. •

Fancy Bags

or figured taffeta or plain satin is the usual lining fabric. Small pockets are shirred or sewed on plain, on the lining. Allowing for the flap, the remainder of the covered strip is turned up to form the bag, and the sides slipstitched or machine stitched together. The flap is fastened down with a loop made of cord sewed to the flap. This slips over a button made by covering a button'mold with a bit of the material used in the bag. On some bags clasps are used such as those that fasten gloves.. All are suspended with silk or tinßel cords,' which are long enough in nearly all cases to be worn over the shoulder. It is the fashion just now to knot the cord and carry the bag by it, in the hand. Hand crocheted bags are very popular, also others made of heavy laces. They are lined with silk and suspended by crocheted cords finished with tassels. Crocheted balls decorate the bottoms of many of them. They are drawn up at the top with the cord. Embroidered motifs, in silk of many brilliant colors, decorate velvet bags and cools are applied as a part of the decoration, in many cases. But the, most popular of all decorations are those made of bands of tinsel with woven-in figures of colored silk. Tinsel or silk tassels, borders of fur, chenille and silk fringes and the fashionable trimming of* small balls, all are requisitioned in the making of the fancy bag.

DASHING COSTUME

Calling gown of dahlia crepe ds chine, with 1830 yoke of coarse ecru lace edged with folds of dahlia ottoman silk. Belt of dahlia silk fastened with enameled buttons.

A Handy Gift.

An inexpensive gift for the woman who sews or embroiders is a book made of stiff cardboard backs, four by ten Inches, and covered with heavy silk or an art linen in dull colors. Embroider across the upper face the word "Silk.” Run this in a diagonal dlre<sioa and put a little spray of flowers around it. On the back cover work the recipient’s monogram or her three initials in a corded outline. Inside the covers are a dosen man 11a envelopes, arranged with the flap to the outer edge of the book, that are destined to hdld as many colors of silk. The make and number of the silk Is to be marked on the outside of the envelopes. Three holes are cut through the covers and also in the envelopes; ribbon is run through these holes and tied at the back in small bOWS.

The book is fastened together with a cord or ribbon to match.

“The Rainway." ▲ large, loose fitting coat of white material, having gone through a process of rainproofing, now calls itself a "rainaway,” It goes about quite few tlve in all conditions of rain and slosh, and when it comes home, if it has splashed about in too many puddles, ft can go right into the washtub

Penelope Ponders

Bob bad taken bis dismissal; bis eyes were black with Increasing gloom. Julia, the proud little recipient of bis affections, smiled; but there wav tenderness In ber smile: ’Things nilgbt be entirely different," she continued, “if I didn’t think there was something In that bead of yours that Is worth getting out 1 feel sure that you could make your presence known in the world if you only would —instead, you drift about spending money with every breath." “It is honestly acquired money—and my own.” Bob glowered at her. “T am perfectly well aware of that" Julia said a trifle coldly, “but It you hadn’t been lucky with stocks yoii might have continued to develop your talents and try to do something worth while." Her words were true. Bob Stanley was not of an analytical mind or would have realized that the days* spent In trying bis pen In-the literary field had been strangely happy onfes. He failed to remember that the occasional shafts of lltfit, In the way Of successes, had brightened the days as nothing had brightened them since. “Anyway." Julia went on in a bard little voice. “1 will not marry a man who is wasting bis life as you are. 1C you make yotr name ring, even a little —perhaps I will reconsider my an* swer." » • > With a swift, unexpected movement. Bob caught her Ins his arms. He bent his bead over hers Intending to kiss her, but he released her as suddenly, *and without another word turned and left her. < Well, that was the end—the end of all things. Bob Stanley ambled on and on until hv found that be bad dropped onto one of the benches hi the park. A grim smile twisted bis lips. It was amusing to find bow naturally he had fallen into the way of all loafers, and failures. They all sought out a bench in the park and there, with variable Imaginations, pictured their last miserable hours. Stanley felt that any way out of existence would suit him, whether It be long and torturing, or swift and sure. He found gloomy enjoyment when he first pictured his name In big headlines and that of Julia Stearns figuring la 'the tragic affair. His Imagination carried him on to one line that would stand out in big letters: “Just what was to be expected of a man of Robert Stanley's kind." The man on the bench straightened hlB shoulders and his eyes narrowed with momentary freedom from gloem. “1 'have walked past exactly flvp times," said a voice at his el«ow. “Which route have you decided upon f she Inquired laughingly, seating herself beside him. “1 am sure It will be a pistol—your eyes are so desperately eager to get there." Bob laughed sheepishly and covered the hand'sbe had put on his arm to belle the frivolity of ber words. “Bhe refused me, Penelope.’ he said, and all his past misery returned. “I more than half expected It. Bobby,’ Pjdfxe lope told him. “You see Julia Is ambitious, not only for herself, but for others She wants to be married to a man about whom people will say, *Oh, there’s So-and-so I” “They say that in one tone about me now,” Bob gloomed. Penelope looked tenderly at the artistically handsome bead so appealing in its misery and pondered long and seriously. What would be the best and quickest way to awaken the slumbering genius in blmT It was there in every little quick turn of temperament, In the big loves of his nature, but he was a soul struggling in the dark. He turned toward her unexpectedly and met the pain In her, eyes. "I’ve hurt the very best friend l have In the world!” he cried contritely. "I will do anything you say If you can help me is be worths of Julia —and you." Penelope laughed quickly. “If you won’t buy the pistol, you may come to see me tonight, and we’ti see what la to be done." A dull color swept up to the auburn at his temples. Penelope regretted her words “That was only tor a second," Boh said looking into her eyes; “the strength of the weak la not mine." “The .weakness of strength." corrected Penelope. “Come early tonight and let us get a good start toward making you famous" “1 hope it won’t be Inamous." mattered Bob. His gloom had lightened. He oould more easily picture Julia in his big mansion on the hill because he felt that Penelope would help him. Bob Stanley was of a type of man that requires the help of a woman and m getting it, gets aIL That night when Penelope greeted him on the veranda of ber home be drew her hand close within Us own.' “You are looking unusually beautiful.” he said; “you should always wear those Burns Jonesy things—they make you look like a symbol of purity." Penelope blushed. “1 don’t return from Paris —always." She made him comfortable in the wide swing. “1 want you to bear one or two of my new songs—l never know whether or not they will take until you have told me," she said prettily. While Penelope sang in her deep soothing -ontralto. Bob felt thankful that Julia, too, sang He wouldn't love a woman who couldn't sing to him when he wea tired or when be wanted only music. .

By DOROTHY DOUGLAS

When she came out and sank into a low chair at his side it was not unnatural that they should fall Into discussing the latest novels. From that the conversation turned to Penelope's latest trip and the plot she bad thought of while in Paris. It was a splendid story to wprk out and as she narrated the Incidents she bad the pleasure of watdhing Bob Stanley awaken to, first polite, and finally animated interest In the story. "1 wish I could write It," Penelope said and fixed wistful eyes. in which the wisdom was concealed, upont Boh. “If I could write that story—l would win flulia!" Bob remarked. “Fame and Jolla!" laughed Penelope. “1 am sure you are welcome to the plot," she said, “but 1 don’t see bow you can concentrate on anything here—you will be mooning and glooming about Julia." Bob looked Into her wise eyee and laughed. “One summer.” be said pointedly. "your mother asked me to join your camp In the Adirondacks." "We leave next Saturday;" .Penelope kept the triumph well under control. “It would be a splendid opportunity to work." she said, “and 1 will be there always to —give you the atmosphere of Normandy for the story." “Would 1 bother you " Bob asked with tardy modesty. “You are like one of tbe family," Penelope laugbed Frankly. “If yon can stand m» practicing—" “I began to think 1 can stand anything irom you. Penny." ‘That Is your writer's imagination," Penelope suggested. Six weeks later Penelope and Boh strolled through the trail and up to the hotel for mall. The first cheek had arrived. “I suppose It will take at least fifty successes—before Julia will listen to me again?” Boh asked half seriously. “One good novel would get you there quicker than many short stories," Penelope thought "We will put up a lunch and row over to the island this afternoon and talk—novel." Bob laughed. "Yon are a tittle schemer—bolding out bait to me." “You and Julia will both thank: me—later on/’ she made answer. Penelope knew In her heart that Bob Stanley would never again ioee his interest in writing. He bad been awakened now to the full joy of real Inspirational work. ’1 rejoice every day, Bop," Penelope said later on when they had reached the little deserted island, "that Julia refused to marry a nonentity. ,Bhe has really been the means of giving the world another greet writer. I know yon will be that some day." They drafted out tbe llneb of % novel during the day and toward dusk sat down for their tea. “Bob,” Penelope spoke seriously, “I want you to do me a favor." Stanley only looked at her and waited. “Julia refused you when yon were a nonentity—l want her to accept you before you are famous She doesn't love you If she waits—for more." “For more?" T mean,” Penelope said quickly and a little flush colored each cheek, “that 1 have beeh with you ail summer—and have learned that yon are—well, not such a bad specimen—without fams If Julia expects any more—*be doesn’t deserve you and 1 shall write and tell her so!" declared Penelope. “Will you please—for my benefit—leave tonight and propose again to Julia?" Bob laughed. "Why certainly, Penn.” A young moon had lighted the duslt when they returned to the camp. "Wish me success little helper" Boh said as he turned toward the station. “AH the Joy in the world!" Penelope cried from the depths of her heart. When he bad gone she saah into a heap because the light of tbe world had gone and she was blinded to ail save darkness She stood up and listened with bated breath. He was returning “What Is ft. Bob I What has happened?” she cried quickly. She scarcely knew his voice when he spoke. “Nothing, Penelope, except that the whole earth grew dark—without you beside me." He drew a deep breath when she was safe in his arms.

Voyagers to far-away islands often discover rare birds whose species they desire to propagate in their own oountry, but which they are unable to transport without tncurrftag the danger of losing the captive by death on the voyage. In order to introduce the birds into other lands the eggs are taken home and hatched there. But this method is also fraught with more or less risk, as the eggs are quite apt to spoil during the voyage. To prevent this the following course is often pursued Obtain an animal $ Intestine large enough to receive the egg to be carried. Remove all tat from tbe Intestine, then cleanse thoroughly with powdered chalk. Pass the egg Into the Intestine, which must then be tied close to the shell at each dVt^ri, p 2ll vvnen penecuy ary tn« mcasea eggs are placed In a box If grain or seeds. Care must be taken that the box be turned bottom upward occasional/.

Preserve Rare Eggs.