Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 235, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 October 1912 — Page 3

HEREXTRA SESSION

'Teacher Cynthia Breaks in the New Pupil.

By A. MARIA CRAWFORD.

Bob Lawrence was disturbed. He struck savagely with his cane at the 'tender flowers along the country road. He had been promised a degree of ihappiness here and he had failed, as usual, to find it. “Say, mister,? said a small voice, T wish you wouldn’t knock the heads off these flowers. I want about a 'bushel of daisies to decorate our schoolroom tomorrow. Miss Cynthia’s invited the board to hear us speak.” “Cynthia?” questioned Bob, wonderIngly. “Cynthia who?” “She’s just Miss Cynthia, that’s all,” answered jimmy Green. “She’s about z the best looker we ever had in this county. Pa said so, and pa knows.” “Does she teach school?” "You bet she does and we’re learning, too, ’cause we love her so we just Btudy our heads off to see her smile,” said Jimmy boyishly. “You must be Mrs. Collier’s brother, visiting over at Three Oaks. My pa is the gardener there.” a “You’ve guessed right What’s your name?" “Jimmy Green. Green and gardens go together, pa says?’ "Well, they ought to, at any rate. (Now* Jimmy, where do you go to ■oteool?” “I don’t like to tell you ’cause pa said to me, ‘I hope Mrs. Collier’s (brother don’t see Miss Cynthia, Jimmy, for she’s too prettjr not to catch any man who sees her and you’re learning so well at school, I don’t, want you to haye to change teachers? Pa’s right about that. Why, her face is just the color of the apple blossoms over in your sister’s orchard.” Jimmy pondered for a second. “Seems like I ought to answer you civil, you being a stranger here. The schoolhouse is about a quarter of a mile straight down this road. She’s there all right, Miss Cynthia Is. She’s keeping Petie Mur|phy and Tom Vance in to learn their speeches for tomdrrow?” Cynthia! W’hat a train of memories and pleasant dreams the word conjured up for Bob Lawrence, who thanked Jimmy for his information and kept on down the road toward the schoolhouse. This time the wayside flowers were free from his bruising cane. He was thinking—thinking intently of the only girl who had ever stirred any emotion in his heart. She, too, was called Cynthia, and her cheeks werei like the apple blossoms in his sister’s orchard. He had met her almost a year before, a few hours out from Liverpool. She had been touring the continent with a very wealthy aunt. The girl’s beauty had attracted him at once, and later her superb health had been added to her list of other charms. She was the only woman on’board, so the steward had told him, who did not miss a meal.

The last night out there had been a moon. Lawrence recalled how eagerly he had waited lor her on deck while she went for a wrap after dinner. They had stood together watching the moonlight on the phosphorescent waves and listening to the soft strains of a Hungarian waltz. His love for her, none the less Intense because of Its short duration, had stirred him mightily, and he had spoken of that love and asked her to marry him. “No,” she had answered, forcing back his arms, “it is not.possible. We belong to different worlds.” “What difference would that make, if It were true?” he had demanded. “What do you mean by different worlds?" “You have money,” she had told him. “I belong to the broken down aristocracy of the south. I work for my living. Aunt Lydia took me for this trip because I was her brother's child and she was sorry for my poverty." He remembered with bitterness how he had begged, stormed and argued, but all to no purpose, for Cynthia had remained deaf to bls entreaties, protesting that his people would be disappointed.When they landed, although he had tried to find out where she lived and follow her, she evaded him. His pride stirred then, and he had turned to his work determined to forget the girl, but In that, too, he had failed. The following spring his sister wrote to him. “Your letters sound as if you were blue, so leave your affaire —they are too enormous for a young man, anyway—and come to visit ine for ten days. The fishing is fine near here, and you can count on mending your depressed spirits.” A voice, young and vehement, broke into his meditation. “Yes’m, I’ll do my best Both of up will, won’t we, TomF Lawrence looked about him. There was the schoolhouse, and out the door rushed the two scholars who had been kept Im to learn their speeches. He watched them out of sight, wondering what excuse he offer to the country teacher if he dared go to the door just to look at her because her name was Cyuthla. He heard a sound that made him listen intently. The pretty school teacher was crying. Lawrence walked quietly to the door. Over by a win-’ dow, her profile turned to him, stood the girl of Jimmy Green’s .dreams, and, incidentally, of his 6wn. “Cynthia’” he called. “Why, It’s you,* said Cynthia, making a futile attempt to efface all signs of tears. "Will you—will you come taF ' , “ .

“I will,” said Lawrence promptly, "Why did you run away from me in New York?” *T—I had to go. I mean , that I had < to come home. I told you enough to make you want to give me up, anyway.% ’That is impossible. I can never ■top wanting you.” “Do you really care for me like that?” she questioned, grave gray eyes on his face. “I love you so that nothing else matters, and yotr—-you put me aside for a mere whim, a fancy,” said Lawrence, the sight of her beauty setting his pulses on fire again. “How can you treat me so?” He dropped into one of the scarred little seats and leaned over on the desk marked with many a jackknife and pencil. “How did you find me—here?” "Jimmy Green showed me the way.” answered Lawrence. Cynthia moved nearer and stood looking down on the bowed black head. “Why were you crying when I came?” asked Lawrence, noticing the motloiL “Because ” Cynthia waited for her heart to quit Its stormy beating, but it would not, and went bravely on—"because I was thinking about you, and I was afraid that I would never see you again." “Cynthia, do you mean that?” Lawrence was up facing her. “Do you mean that and all that it implies? Do you love me?" “Yes,” said Cynthia brokenly, T think that I have always loved you.” “When will you marry me ? Tonight?” •Tomorrow after school,” laughed Cynthia happily. "I have lately come into some money; quite a lot. I am not a pauper ahy more.” “You never were a pauper so long as you yere you.”

“I’m so sorry. Bob. I have to go to a dinner tonight at Mrs. Collier's. Her brother-is coming—I forgot to ask his name—and she is most anxious to have me meet him. She is my best friend, and I can’t disappoint her. Hl ring her up and ask if I can’t take you.” “I’ll have to be there, and Tm going to take you. Now you see flow heartily my family approves of you after all,” laughed Lawrence, holding her close in his arms. T am the expected brother.” * “Why, Bob! Is it possible? Only last week I told her all about you; that is, everything except your name." “Which will soon be yours, too,” promised Lawrence emphatically. “Say, Miss Cynthia,” came a voice from the open door where Jimmy Green stood grinning at them, “ain’t you holding ah extry session today?" “I—l don’t know,” said the embarrassed school teacher. “She has a new pupil, one. that she will have to teach ail her life, and she has just been breaking him in,” answered Lawrence, smiling to see the apple blossom pink of Cynthia’s cheelts turn to crimson. (Copyright, 1912, by Associated Literary - Press.)

HIS ARGUMENT WON ATHEIST

Perhaps Not Strictly Ethical, but It Accomplished What the Rector Set Out to Do. In raising mpney to pay for a new church a preacher sometimes has to shut his eyes to the dollars tossed into the plate or slipped into the duplex envelopes. Dr. Robert Nelson Spencer, rector of Trinity Episcopal church, tells this story about a brother clergyman who once went a bit further: This rector. Dr. Spencer says, was so hard put to it that he decided to solicit funds from an atheist saloonkeeper, who was reputed to be the wealthiest man in the district One day, when the rector and the saloonist, with whom he was well acquainted, met on the street, the churchman put the question good and strong. “I don*t believe in the church; it hurts my business,” retorted the booze merchant, with indignation in his voice. “Now, Tom,” returned the rector. In his most conciliatory manner, “listen to reason. I maintain that If It wasn’t for the church you wouldn’t have a chance in the world. The church Is the pioneer of civilization, and where the beacon of modern enlightenment burns dimly or not at all the saloon is unknown. “Suppose ybu tried to open a *joint’ in darkest Africa.” he went on, with a good imitation of enthusiasm. “What would those cannibals do to yon the first time one of their number got a drink at your bar and appeared before his tribe Intoxicated? Why, sir, they would burn you for a witch; that’s what they would do.” The saloon-keeper, Dr. Spencer says, signed up for SSOO and later joined the church with all his family.—Kansas City Journal

Greatest Novel.

"What is the greatest novel?" Is a question that admits of almost as many answers as there are types of mind. “Ten Thousand a Year,” “Don Quixote,” "William Meister,” "Tristram Shandy,” "The Cloister and the Hearth,” “The Scarlet Lett?*,” “Ivanhoe,” “On the Heights,” "Rbbert Elsmere.” “Looking Backward," and a hundred others are great novels, and each one of them is the "greatest novel" to somebody. It all depends upon the temper of soul and cast of mlnfl in the particular individual. The novel produces the greatest impression upon you and gives you the greatest all-round satisfaction is for you the “greatest novel.” It might pot be the greatest to another.

ACROSS THE ANDES

OF the passengers who started from Buenos Aires for Valparaiso on the Trans-Andean express on Tuesday, May 7 last, more than 10 per cent, were frozen or starved to death and dl suffered tortures that could be equaled only on a voyage in search of he pole, ' Charles Sriber, Jr., of New York was me of those passengers. Today he is trying to recuperate at the home of ais father in the White mountains. His hands and face are still in a terrible condition from frostbi|e; he is almost a nervous wreck. The Trans-Andean express leaves Buenos Aires every Tuesday in winter. At 9:30 a. m. on May 7 MrBcriber waved goodby to his friends from the window of the “dormitorio,” as the sleeping cars are called. He had with him in his berth a heavy overcoat, several blankets, woolen shirts and a poncho. The last he borrowed for the trip from Frank Rutter, an American tariff expert who had recently come across the mountains and reported that it was a bitterly cold Journey. The cars of the Trans-Andean railroad are unheated. They are cars that have outlived their usefulness in England and been shipped to Argentina to earn a few more dividends. Leaving Buenos Aires I noticed, almost at once, the lowering temperature, and finally, when 12 hours out, I donned my heavy overcoat, Charles Sriber, Jr., says. The icy air seemed to penetrate even my heavy undergarments, coat and all, so after passing Mendoza, 14 hours out of Buenos Aiyes, I slipped my borrowed puncho on over my heavy coat and this gave me a slight sense of comfort, but was extremely tiring, as the poncho itself weighed close to 15 pounds. There were 16 of us in the firstclass compartments, two Americans, six Englishmen, five Germans and three Chileans. The latter were well protected from the cold, but the majority of the others were unprepared for such cold weather and suffered accordingly. Twenty-four hours after leaving Buenos Aires our train came to a stop with a bump, and the 16 of us rolled out of our bunks and began asking what the trouble was. Train Was Burled In Bnow. At daylight iwe looked out of the small windows, at the wildest winter scene that any' Of us had ever gazed upon. Nothing in sight but a wilderness of snow —snow so highly banked about the front of the train that for an instant I thought it was an illusion. The engine was buried in snow to the very middle of the boiler. The cab of the engine was hidden from, view, and the sound of escaping steam was an added horror to that caused by the ghastliness of the Immense snowbanks looming up in the slowly dissipating darkness of the Andes morning- . . Thirteen meters deep was the exact measurement of the snow on the level, with drifts as high as the Singer building. We were led from the train by the conductor, an Argentine, and post haste to the Hotel Olinda Vista (beautiful view), where, the conductor informed us, vre would be well taken care of. We were.

Fifteen pesos a day (a peso equals 40 cents American) was the charge we were asked to pay in advance. The first-class passengers paid a day each and were assigned to rooms, two, three and four to a room. My only roommate was a Mr. Christy of a New York life insurance company, the only other American on the train. . ~ For the 15 pesos a day we received bread, eggs and coffee twice a day. The immigrants scoured the few houses in Puenta Del Incas, as the town was called, and soon exhausted the supply of food. The eggs at our hostelry soon gave out and coffee and rolls —rolls as hard as Madeira wood —became the thrice-a-day menu. Aft-

er the fourth day the rolls passed into oblivion and coffee became the sole article on the bill. By noon on Sunday several of the German immigrants came to the hotel as a delegation from the hundred odd second and third class passengers and demanded that they be taken in. The proprietor of the hotel said, he had no more food, but that he would accommodate them with beds on the floor for 6 pesos a day. The immigrants left in anger and returned an hour later. I acted as interpreter. My knowledge of Spanish, Portuguese, German, etc., came in very handy, and in order to get even with Hotel Man 1 charged him 15 pesos a day for acting as interpreter, which he willingly paid, as I was the only man on the train speaking Spanish and English and he needed me. In fact, he spoke hardly ten words in the day to his guests without my assistance. The committee from the station asked me to tell the proprietor of the hotel that unless they were allowed the freedom of the house they would burn it to the ground. Incidentally they called him hog-dog and othei complimentarv names. ‘ Nearly Burned the Hotel. The landlord dismissed the committee and said his rates never changed, and sure enough at 8 o’clock that night the entire front of the hotel wag discovered in flames, and it required the combined efforts of all the guests to extinguish it, which we did by means of the snow and several bucket brigades. On the evening of Monday, our fifth day, I was asked to call upon the conductor of the train and inquire if anything in the way of a relief train wat coming. My call upon this functionary was useless; he was so crippled with rheumatism that he would not utter a word save oaths and waved me away from his bunk in the sleep er. Repairing to the station I saw the poor immigrants huddled together endeavoring to keep warm. Two had died during the bitter cold of the previous night, and the entire crowd of them looked emaciated and hungry Learning where the telegraph op erator lived, I dragged that worth) from his drunken bed. It was now 1 o’clock and steadily growing colder A high wind was blowing and the fine particles of snow almost blinded me The operator accompanied me-to his booth in an outbuilding near the sta tion and after confessing to me that he had not sent a word to Buenot Aires about the plight of the train, he transmitted a message which I dictat ed< I told him I was a Marconi mar in the employ of the road and under stood the various codes. This un doujjtedly impressed him, for in replj to my message, which read: “Train snowbound, Puenta del In cas. Passengers freezing, starving Send aid immediately. C. Sriber.”

I got this reply: _ "Rushing train with supplies. Hug gins.” This is all I remember. I know thal it was far below zero and that mj hands and ears were cold and stiff When next I awoke I was lying it my room at the hotel with Mr. Christj and several Engllshmen working ovej me. They say I collapsed shortly aft er leaving the station and that wher I did not return by 9 o’clock Christ) organized a search party to rescue me thinking I had been attacked by th< Immigrants. They found me lying face up in a snowbank almost frozei to deathWe finally arrived back tn Buenot Aires, where Mr. Reichenbach cablet my firm and I received word to fetun immediately.

' Seven men and five babies perishei on the trip. Two Germans tried tt walk from Puenta del Incas to Mendo za and were frozen. Several immi grants died from exposure while liv ing at the railroad station. Five babiei died on the return trip, and upon th« arrival of the passengers at Buenot Aires not one received any part of th* rare back.

HAD PHONOGRAPHS IN EGYPT

Reports Are That Babylonian Tablet Also Shows That the Wireless Telegraph Was Known. "We think we are a great people,” said the retired army officer, taking off his glasses, "and we feel that we are progressing at a tremendous pace, but here’s a newspaper account saying that the French government has unearthed in Babylonia 45,000 tablets, giving a history In full of the reign of the ancient kings. Here we find for the first time that Babylon, and not Rome, was the real ‘Mother of Laws.’ In those days there was a system of courts and of appeals that even sugested a recall. Sir, this report also states that hr the days of Nebuchadnezzar they had a free rural delivery of mall over every highway in the kingdom. And shades of Grover Cleveland! —It has also been proved beyond a doubt that the Egyptian government In 4,500 B. C., had a perfected system of civil service. There is a record that the first turbine engine was Invented by the Egyptians, and that Archimedes devised this mechanical contrivance by which the fields- could, be watered when the Nile was low. This is the same principle that is used to drive the latest additions to the Cunarders.” What shocked the doughty old American most of all, says the National Magazine, was the information that four thousand years ago the phonograph was used in ancient Egypt, and was in reality only per. fected by Edison in the nineteenth century. There is evidence also of the use of wireless telegraphy before the Christian era, while the Egyptia alphabet has proven to be a scientific key to organized human speech. It is a hard blow to our self-sufficiency to find that the banjo of the southern plantation with its fascinating “thrum” only echoes the musical instruments used by Egyptians in prehistoric times.

Is the Same Old World.

In reviewing Professor Frank Frost Abbott’s new book. “The Common People of Ancient Rome,” a critic says: “It should be something of a corrective to modern conceit to note how little we have advanced since paternalism first became dominant in Rome and since the Roman government prided itself on opening public baths and washhouses for the people. Los Angeles is doing that same thing now and lauds herself as a pioneer in civilization because of ft. Diocletian denounced the rich and their luxuries, attributed to them the high prices of necessaries, In language almost indentlcal with a radical newspaper of today. Plautus tells us of the trusts that were founded to control prices and the trust problem-Avas as much a reality in ancient Rome a* it is today?’

Market for Sharks’ Liver Oil.

It has been proposed to start in Malaysia a small export trade in shark’s liver oil. This oil is refined in Europe and sold as cod liver oil. In October thef*ocean sharks come into the lagoon, between the barrier reef and the atolls, to pair. At this time they can be speared in large numbers by people skilled in catching them. There are several species of thepe sharks »nd they ordinarily run from seven to fifteen feet in length. The girth of an ordinary shark is the same as its length, and afi eleven-foot shark would be eleven feet around the body. The liver of a shark of this size gives about five gallons of oil. The oil brings $73 a ton. The sharkn are found in pairs and the harpooners try to kill the ijnale first, in which case they are able to also spear the female* as it does not desert its mate.

New York Alimony Club.

The Alimony club In New York, a name adopted by a coterie of men who are undergoing imprisonment there for default in payment of allowances to wives from whom they have separated, held a banquet in jail on Christmas day. Twelve sat down to a good repast, two of them having come back for the occasion', after recovering their liberty only two days before. The popular song, "I Wonder Who’s Kissing Her NoW,” was sung during every toast, and “Our Unfortunate Successors” was received hilariously.

Oldest Newspaper.

The “Tching Pao,” which is the official gazette of Peking, and has just celebrated its thousandth anniversary, is the oldest newspaper in the world. Ever since its inception, a copy of each issue has been carefully preserved in the archives of the Peking palace. Accuracy has always been the keynote of his papet. and, In sevder to maintain its high standard, several journalists on its staff in the past paid the penalty of mistakes with their lives. Dismissal, and, at the worst, imprisonment, is the punishment meted out at present

Proud of Pet Swan.

Captain Peacocke, of Los Angeles, whose name might indicate a sympathy with the feathered race, has a pet goose ot the handsome variety known as “Russian swan.” The bird flew upon his land three years ago,, and has become domesticated to such an extent that he follows the captain like a dog and searches in his pockets for popcorn or crackers. When the pockets are empty the “swan” looks disconsolate, like a dog who has received a harsh word when he expected a pleasant one.

RECALL OLD RECORDS

AMERICA HAB HAD HORSES OF RARE RENOWN. interesting Comparison of Those of Eighty Years Ago With Jerry M.’s Recent Remarkable Race in Ireland. Carrying 175 pounds and racing over turf, making many jumps, Jerry M., an Irish thoroughbred, covered a distance of four miles in ten mlnutea flat. He is considered the greatest horse In Ireland, and perhaps on the continent,, and in view of the heavy weight carried, Is truly a wonder. But, says a writer in the Horseshoers’ Journal, what about the old warriors of the American turf, those of the ’3os and ’4os going the same route, working at the trotting gait and covering distances in a little slower time. The Dutchman, in May, 1836, on the Centerville (L. I.) course under saddle and at the trotting gait, went four miles in 10:51. The weight carried by the horse is not stated, but judging from~Hiram Woodruff’s scaling of 160 pounds, without saddle, Lt is safe to say that the Dutchman carried nearlyas much weight as Jerry M. did when he won the Liverpool Grand National Steeplechase recently In ten minutes. When It is considered that the Dutchman worked at the trotting gait, the performance is all the greater. Ten minutes and fifty-one seconds for four miles was the best of early days, and the mark was a record for many years for trotters working under saddle. Reduced to miles it means that the average for each was 2:42%. The record for runners for four miles made previous to 1842, was held by Fashion, who won over Boston, a nine-year-old, in, 7:32% or 1:15% for each mile covered. The record was established at Union Course, L. L, in May, 1842, the best previous record for the same distance being held by Eclipse in a race with Henry over the game course in May, 1823, the time being 7:37. The wonderful prowess of Eclipse and other horses of the time was established by the fact that they could repeat the same long distance on the same day, though not in time as fast as the first heat. Eclipse In his race worked under the three In five plan, and each heat was made in time as follows: First heat, 7:37; second heat, 7:49; third heat, 8: 24. This was in 1823, 89 years ago, when blood was put to a test, the four miles route being not an uncommon thing to witness. Tracing the lines of the thoroughbreds back into history, how many times we see the name of Eclipse mentioned; his blood Intermingles with the very select of the present day, and the reason why is easily seen. Time has not bade great changes in the thoroughbred line if the. performances of Eclipse are figured up.

Still, it Seemed Warm.

A Cherryvale merchant came home from the breeze of an electric fan and three iced cakes last night and said peevishly to his wife: “You can certainly get this house good and warm. What do you do to do it?” And the wife replied meekly, as she pushed J>ack the few straggling hairs and nailed them in place with a grinning wire hatpin: “I don’t see why it Is hot; I put a ham on to boil at six o’clock this morning and baked bread, and did a little ironing, and while I had the oven hot I baked a batch of cookies and a couple of pies and heated the water for the children’s baths and scrubbed the floor. But I haven’t had any fire to speak of except to broil a steak and bake some potatoes since five o’clock this afternoon. It seems kind of cool-like to me.” —Cherryvale (Kan.) Journal.

High Prices for Pictures.

I have before me the catalogue. If you went through it with me we should mark the general increase in prices, and we should see how fashion is a particular and powerful factor in some cases. I could show you fine Holbein portraits—" Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk,” with the marked "price £SO 8s; "Martin Luther” and “Lady Gullford,” £3O and £l6 respectively; “Anne Boleyn” and “Calvin," together £2B 7s, and so on. Then we could reflect upon “The Duchess of Milan,” by the same master, which was presented to the National gallery by the National Art Collections Fund at a cast of £72,000. —London Opinion.

Rats and the Plague.

There is a theory that the old brown rats aided the spread of plague in Europe, because the fleas which infest them are more likely to take up their abode on human beings than are the parasites of the rat This is hardly demonstrated beyond the fact that the cessation of plague epidemics in England and western Europe was about coincident with the Norway rat Invasion. It seems to have been proved in California that the gray rats can spread the infection, but if the black rats spread It faster, we may yet be brought to 1 concede some good in the gray Norway rat peat that has heretofore driven out its older brother.

In These Days.

"All the world’s a stage, you know.’ "Yes, but not all the men and women are actors. Some have to sit in front and look at the moving pl* tures.”