Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 193, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 14 August 1913 — Page 3

TEA THAT WAS TEA

And Results It Wrought Were Satisfactory to at Least Two People. I

By ANNA E. BLEY.

“Policy ready yet, Miss Birdsall?" “Ofi, is that you, Bobbie?” Miss Birdsall turned from the typewriter. •Wait a* minute,” running through a bundle of folded policies. “Here it is, "MacDougall & Son—lnsurance Brokers,’ ” she read from the printed sticker at the bottom. "It doesn’t take you long to turn ’em out, Miss Birdsall,” remarked the boy admiringly as he slipped it into this pocket. Louise Birdsall’s lips parted in a cmile. . “What’s in the kettle, Bobbie?” she inquired. "Nothing yet, it’s for tea for the old man.” “Does he like tea?” “Headache, and he’s had an awful Crouch on all morning.” “Poor old gentleman!” exclaimed Miss Birdsall sympathetically. “Where are you going to get the tea?” “At the Peerless.” “At the Peerless!” she ejaculated. "Why, it won’t be fit to drink.” “Can’t help it, nearest place,” and he (picked up the kettle to go. Miss Birdsall glanced at the clock: the other clerks would not return for a quarter of an hour. “Sit down, Bobbie, and I’ll make you some tea that is tea.” She pulled out the lower drawer of the typewriter desk and drew forth a email brass canister, from another recess came a teaspoon. « “Just a second, Bob,” she. laughed, and ran into the tiny dressing room adjoining the large airy office. In a twinkling, she returned, holding up a little blue and white china teapot. “The kettle was boiling, so it didn’t take long to make. By the time you get to the office it will be nicely steeped.” Bobble looked at the gay little teapot doubtfully. “Could you wrap it up?” he suggested. “Why, it is much easier to carry this way.” “I know, but if the fellows in Watkins’iofflce see me go by with a flossy little teapot like that, they’ll guy the life out o’ me.” With quick understanding, Miss Birdsall wrapped the teapot in the ' morning’s newspaper. “Bobble, I want this teapot returned with the tea leaves in it, no wiping out with the office towel. Do you get me, Robert?” "I gotcha,” he replied with a grin. The door slammed and Miss Birdsall settled down to work. The next day at noon a fashionably dressed young man walked into the office of the International Insurance company. Miss Birdsall* rose, her cheeks flushing slightly as she recognized young Mr. MacDougall. “Miss Birdsall?” he Interrogated pleasantly. J “Yes,” she said with quiet dignity. “I am returning the teapot with sincere thanks.” “Pray don’t Mention it. I hope the tea helped Mr. MacDougall’s head.” added: “In fact, he has been a new man ever since.” Miss Birdsall peeped absent-minded-ly inside. “We didn’t wash it out,” he apologized, and then they both laughed gaily, and Miss Birdsall remembered her admonition to Bobbie. With a few desultory remarks, Me MacDougall politely left. “What a delightful person,” thought Miss Birdsall, as she carried the teapot into the dressing room. “Delightful in spite of his money.” During the afternoon she recalled him again and again. Since she had been policy writer for the International she had heard continually of young MacDougall, of his money, of his extravagances, and of the beautiful old house occupied solely by his father and himself. It was therefore a surprise and a pleasure to find him quite natural and extremely agreeable. Two days later, Bobbie came in again at noon. "Nothing ready, Robert,” she called out in a business-like tone. “I’m not after policies.” Then, leaning confidentially over the counter, “Could you let me have some more tea, Miss Birdsall?” t “Why Bobbie—” Miss Birdsall wheeled'about in her chair. "The boss has a terrible headache; been raising Cain all morning.” •’ "Dear me,” murmured Miss Birdsall, “of course.” Rising quickly, she commenced collecting the tea things. While the kettle was boiling, a sudden thought struck her. “What does Mr. MacDougall drink the tea from?” "A. glass.” 1 , v . “Well upon my word!” and forthwith she produced a fragile teacup and saucer. From some nook in her desk, she took a lemon and deftly cut three or four slices with her penknife. These she slipped lnto«a clean envelope, together with several cubes of sugar and a teaspoon. “Now, Bobbie,” she warned after the tea was made, “carry these things carefully and tell old Mr. MacDougall that I hope the tea will cure his headache.” “I’ll tell him.” promised the boy, with a mischievous smile on his freckled face. The following day he brought back “Gee, Miss Birdsall.” he confided.

“the boss says that lemon’s a great stunt.” . - 7- . “I am delighted, Robert.” ’. “Yes, he wants to meet you.” “Meet —me —?” she questioned, her eyes wide open in astonishment “That wasn’t just what he said,” explained Bobbie consulting a slip of paper. “Present my compliments to Miss Birdsall and ask her of she will come up to the office this afternoon so that I may thank her In person,” he repeated glibly. Miss Birdsall gasped. •** “They’re the boss’ orders,” observed Bobbie, with finality. “Well, he isn’t my boss,” expostulated Miss Birdsall indignantly. “When the boss wants a thing, he always gets it” Miss Birdsall reflected. Mr. MacDougall was a very irascible and a very old gentleman. If those were his wishes why should she hesitate to gratify an old man’s whim? “I’ll ask my boss, Bobbie,” she agreed with a faint smile. “All right,” and Bobbie departed promptly. That afternoon she mentioned the matter to the manager. “Old MacDougall,” he mused. “I didn’t know he was back; he’s been in Florida all winter. Certainly, go right over, Miss Birdsall. Ab Miss Birdsall was ushered into the sumptuous private office of MacDougall & Son, she raged inwardly at finding herself in such a position. Young MacDougall came cordially indicated a chair and seated himself comfortably hear her. "Your father —” began Miss Birdsall stiffly, i The young man, usually at his ease, grew red and embarrassed. “Miss Birdsall, I owe you an explanation. I trust you will hear me to the end.” Miss Birdsall moved uneasily. "You see,”. he went on, “I couldn’t explain the matter to you down there, with an office full of gaping clerks, but each time I’ve seen you I’ve thought what awfully good friends we might become if we wre acquainted.”. “Mr. MacDougall,” interrupted Miss Birdsall, rising, “this is simply preposterous.” “Please hear me to the end,” he urged. Miss Birdsall sat down. “We don’t know each other’s friends and there* seemed to be no way in which I could do the thing in the conventional manner till the Heaven-sent tea episode,” he continued more cheerfully. “That young rascal, Bobbie, probably alluded to me as ’the ojd man,’ and you naturally took it to be my father.” Louise Birdsall bit her lips in vexation. Other words of Bobbie’s recurred to her. “He always gets what he wants.” She would show him that the old Birdsall spirit still survived, even if she had been forced to earn her own living. “Mr. MacDougall,” she said, looking him squarely in the eyes, “I have few friends, but these few I value more than anything on earth. A friendship to me is something sacred, not to.be based merely upon a good time. There are some things in this world that money cannot buy.” The young man flushed hotly. “It’s no more than I deserve, Miss Birdsall, but I’m not the selfish brute I’m painted. I’m lonely, miserably lonely. I have money, a house —not a home—and a vast following of fawning creatures who are pleased to term themselves my friends; it was you, and the tea, I suppose, that made me realize how little I have,” he finished lamely. They were quiet for a moment; the clickety-click of busy typewriters in the office beyond came faintly through the closed door. Young MacDougall sat, chin in hand, looking off into space. Mies Birdsall watched the hurt look upon the strong, handsome features. she thought of the big house, and then it came to her how lonely her own little home would be were it not for the mother always there to welcome her at night and to encourage her when she left in the morning. “I am sorry." i “Don’t,” he begged without turning, ‘Tve been a perfect fool, only I hoped you would understand.” She touched his coat sleeve softly, “I do understand.” (Copyright, 1913, by ths McClurs Newspaper Syndicate.)

Do Not Want the Big Head.

Shoe manufacturers who talk of making changes in the numbering of women’s shoes, so no woman can find out just how big her foot is, are likely to be joined by hat manufacturers who may change the size of men’s hats, so no man can tell JustJiow big his head is. “More and more I notice a disinclination among men to acknowledge that they wear unusually large hats,” said a clerk in a hat store. “There was a time when a head that required a hat of prodigious size was a possession to be proud of, but of late years big heads are unpopular, and <he men who have to ask for rather largfrsixed hats seem ashamed of themselves. “Of course, men will require the same sizes in hats no matter how the numbers run, but it will let them down easy to think that they are able to lop off an eighth of an inch in the circumference of their headgear.”

West Virginis Pottery Industry.

West Virginia mow ranks third in the value of pottery produced, being exceeded by Ohio and New Jersey. West Virginia’s product of chief value in 1912 was white ware, of which it is the second largest producer in the country. The value of the white ware made in 1912 was 12,051,987, an Increase of >131,693 over the figures for 1911. This product is made principally in Hancock county, opposite East Ur erpooL •>

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN. RENSSELAER, IND.

BUILDING RAIL ROAD THROUCH BRAZIL

BUILDING a railroad through the jungles of western Brazil a strenuous and often highly dangerous task, calling for nerves and muscles of steel, the patience of Job, and the best engineering skill, as the constructors of the Madeira and Mamore line will tell you. This railroad will link up the series of cataracts and rapids on the Madeira and Mamore rivers, the most important affluents of the mighty amazon and Madeira rivers below the Madeira falls with the 2,500 miles of navigation in Bolivia above these falls, thereby providing a quicker and cheaper rqute, via Para, for the transport to Europe of valuable exports. A. W. Chester, an American civilengineer who has had considerable experience in railroad work in tropical countries, returned from the Madeira region recently, after working almost a year with the survey corps of t%e M. & M. He was ordered home by the doctor in charge of the hospital after a severe attack Of black water fever, and was told that to return would mean death. “Surveying down there is a pretty hard job,” says Mr. Chester. “The line follows the river bank, never going more than 10 to 15 miles away from it. '

Monkeys Good Food. “In a party are usually 10 to 12 Americans, two men for each job, so that the work is not likely to be held up by sickness, and about 50 natives. It is not possible to use more than that number of natives, for their business in cutting away jungle, and any more would be superfluous. Sometimes the supplies are not forthcoming. I have been up there for a month at a time with no supplies coming up, and we had to live on beans and crushed mahioca root, which looks something like a radish and dried makes a sort of meal. Then you can shoot monkeys, which make good food, especially the little fellows a trifle smaller than rabbits. If they are not cooked whole you can eat them, otherwise you get the feeling that you are a sort of cannibal. Monkey meat tastes something like squirrel. “They you have wild pig and deer, and there is the tapir, or anteater, which Is edible. They also have a beast about the size of a cow, but which swims in the water, and which they call the anter down there. Its meat is like beef. Then there is a wild turkey that is absolutely black, with red comb, which has an excellent flavor. There is another bird that they call the jachoo, which is about the size of a hen, is the color of a partridge and has a big bill, but is rather tough. “Well, when the trail is cut the next thing is to make, a camp and then you cut trails around in different directions. Exploring the country down there is like feeling in the dark. You cannot get on a hilltop and look around. The heat is intense in the Jungle. There is no sun and the fellows come out of the woods after a few weeks as white as a sheet The long walks are the' worst feature ibout'the work. “One great annoyance in the jungle is that you, are apt to run out of tobacco. You can drink a little liquor, In fact, the doctors tell*you it Is beneficial if not indulged in to excess, but if you drink much it is far worse than in this country, in these surveying parties you have to wear a heavy flannel shirt all the time; if you don’t you will catch a very hard cold. None of the carries is ever attacked by Indians, though there have been cases in which one or two men have gone out from camp and never been heard off. Sometimes their bones are found long afterward with an arrow beside them.” Afraid of Guns. Tire savages of this region fight with bamboo-headed spears and poisoned arrows, the latter propelled by a powerful bow seven feet long. The arrowheads, of bone, are dipped in snake venom, and inflict a mortal wound. The venom is said to be procured by boiling snakes’ beads to extract it from the glands, and evaporating the solution to almost dryness. The Indians are, however, afraid of anything that will shoot, consequently the constructors of the Madeira and Mammore line always carried a revol-

Preparing Roadbed

ver. “If you carry a' gun,” says Mr. Chester, “the probability is that you will neyer have to use it, but if you don’t carry one the Carapunas will get you sure.” The Carapunas do not show themselves in the white men’s vicinity except when they come out on the river bank to meet the rubber batalaos coming down the river. These batalaos are wooden craft covered with an awning of palm branches, and can be taken all the way from Bolivia down within 15 miles of Porto Velho, where are the falls of San Antonio. Here the Indians have to get out and shove or pull the boat through the stones on one side. The. Indians sell skins, mostly in exchange for cartridges. These they string about their necks, not to have ready for üße, because they don’t use firearms, but as ornaments. Snakes and gigantic spiders are the terror of the jungle railroad man. “When you are working in the jungle,” said one of them, “you always awake with a feeling of uncertainty in the morning. Of course, a surveying party simply has to hew its path as it goes along, and your camp is usually in a clearing just big enough to contain it. About it is a thick wall of trees, vines, and undergrowth that a man cannot pierce without the aid of an ax, which, of course, are filled with every manner of creeping thing. “When you awake in the morning, for instance, you may see a playful snake wrapped around the pole overhead, giving every appearance of selecting the proper point from which to drop into your month. You may feel something soft and clammy rub up against your ear, and when you grab at it to fling it away, you find it is a lizard. Or perhaps a scorpion may be playing with your hair. “Then, when you have decided to get up and reach for your boots, you are apt to find that a big tarantula has made up his mind that one of them would make a comfortable house, and has put himself and his legs in there so cozily and nice that you hate to disturb him. We caught one of these horrors and killed him and measured him, and, without stretching him at all, It was eight inches from the' tip of his starboard leg to those he carried on the port side. Perhaps your other shoe has been appropriated by a family of giant centipedes, which abound in large quantities. “As for snakes, the Garden of Eden wasn’t in it at all. Some of the big ones, the anacondas, are as big around as your body, and it was not infrequent that some of our men in chopping away at what they thought were giant roots or vines found they had taken a hack Instead of a big snake, and then there was some scampering. One of these big fellows killed by the men of our party measured 28 feet. You never see the sun when you are in a Brazilian jungle, but there is something going on, even if it is only crawling.”

HAD AROUSED HER CURIOSITY

Small Girl Wanted Painter to Divulge Secret She Evidently Considered of Importance. A certain painter in New York, though he is still a young man, and looks younger, has a way of winning prizes at National academy exhibits and such. Also he has a studio near Central park. The other day he went into the park with the sort of paraphernalia artists use when they go sketching. He picked out a place to suit him, set up his workshop, and fell to very earnestly. Presently he was aware of something behind him —something with bright eyes. He looked up. There stood a smartly dressed young lady, aged five or ther% abouts. She was frankly interested in what he was dning and met his gaze without embarrassment “Do you mind if a little girl looks over your shoulder?" she said. “Not If she is a good little girl,” replied the artist politely—and went on with his painting. It was some time before he looked up again. The young lady of five was still there. She caught his eye and bent toward him with an eager, coaxing smile. “What do the naughty little girls say to you?” she whispered.—New York Evening Post

HAPPENINGS IN THE CITIES

Philadelphia Rooster Defies Mandate of Court

PHILADELPHIA, PA.—With a covey of five hens and an ample supply of cracked corn and plenty of water, a white bantam rooster strutted around the yard of Charles L. Tull’s home, 2218 North Twelfth street, the other day, and openly defied the mandate of the common pleas court The diminutive fowl did not know or did not give a rap what the court ordered, for the rooster, despite an injunction issued by Judge McMichael against the owner of the bird, got up at his usual hour, mounted the fence and proceeded to serenade the neighbora by crowing at the break of day. Mr. Tull is the proud owner of the rooster. He—Mr. Tull—rwas out of the city with his wife, and when a clerk in the office of P. A. Wildermuth, the plaintiff in the case, tried to serve Mr. Tull with the Injunction it was found that the owner of the obnoxious fowl was in Atlantic City. Members of the Civic club are deeply interested in Mr. Wildermuth’s attempt to eliminate what he considers unnecessary noises. Mrs. Owen

Umpity Boom! Boom! Then the Turtle Let Go

MSW YORK. —Any boy from the lx weet, where creek is just plain “crick,” and where turtles are as thick as June bugs, could have told Daniel Holmes that the bow end of a snapping turtle is no place to loaf around, especially when the weather’s clear. Daniel comes from Coney Island, though, and anybody'll tell you they know more about soft shell crabs down there than they do about snapping turtles, Coney island being a snapping turtle’s idea of no kind of a place to inhabit Be that as it may, however, there arrived at Frederick Brencke’s fish market at West First street and Sheepshead bay road, Coney island, two of the biggest man-eating turtles Coney ever saw. One weighed 380 pounds and the other 256. The big one evidently made up his mind he 'wasn’t going to be soup. Holmes’ hands fascinated him and he waited his chance. He didn’t have to wait long. Holmes' fingers were soon carelessly straying in the neighborhood of the turtle's chin, and it just reached out and took hold. ' Holmes yelled. The snapping turtle had a firm grip, however.

Boy Dresses Up as Girl “So He Can Be Good”

pHICAGO.— Nobody wants Roy Wise V baum, seven years old. Even the Jewish Home for the Friendless, East Ftfty-thlrd and Ellie avenue, went back on him the other day. The superintendent says Roy is incorrigible. Roy got to thinking over his past deeds and decided to reform. There was no use running away because everyone knew "that Roy Wisebaum.” "Gee, I wish I was a girl,” he told one of his playmates. “Maybe I wouldn’t be so bad, and maybe somebody would like me.” An hour later Roy was missing from the home. About the same time Sergeant Thomas Fitzgerald of the Hyde Park police station heard a small voice inquire:

“Say-When John” Is Sure One Lucky Fisherman

CLEVELAND, O. —Is there anybody who lost a watch in Rocky river at 13 minutes after 3 o’clock. “Say-When John,” Nelse Peterson’s trusty lieutenant on the Cleveland Yacht club’s island at the mouth of the river, is asking that question of everybody he meets ofi Billy White’s corner, “up the hilt" John didn’t feel strong enough to work the other day, so he dug over an acre or two of ground for half a pint of worms and went fishing. It was an Important expedition because he was to try out officially a fishhook which his brother had sent him from Norway. John dropped his hook in the current of Rocky river. Immediately something grabbed it and started upstream with it. John jumped into the water and after herculean efforts snaked a thirty-pound (inspected scales) carp ashore. ' The catch was too heavy to carry hams intact, so John drew his knife and opened the fish's vest. Inside

Wister eaid she was in sympathy with his efforts, and that, since all roosters are a nuisance in * thickly settled community, the court is right in directing' the owner to either put a muffler on the chicken or send him to the country for the summer. If the rooster crows after Mr, Tull is served with the injunction he may be held in contempt of court Mr. Wit dermuth says he will see that the papers are property presented, and that he will back up hie determination to put the rooster out of business by having a court officer take Mr. Tull into custody Just as soon as the injunction Is violated. The cause celebre has suddenly leaped into fame in the neighborhood. Neighbors who never before looked over a fence or peeped through a hole in the wall have developed a wonderful curiosity to take a look at the subject of the controversy. A woman of unusually heavy build snatched a board from a fence when she tried to gaze into Mr. Tull’s back yard. The children have also been boosting each other to see the rooster and his five .barnyard companions. Mrs. Imogene B. Oakley, head of • special committee appointed by the Civic club to do away with unnecessary noises, declared a law should be passed to prevent roosters from crowing early in the morning. “Mr. Wildermuth was right in asking the court to suppress the nul sance," she said.

"Gee, and it's a clear day, too,” sympathetically remarked an innocent bystander. i “What d’you mean, a cleft, dayr yelled Holmes, trying in vain to choke the turtle. “A snapping turtle never lets go till it thunders,” said the innocent bystander. “Pray for -rain, then," begged Holmes, hopping on the other foot and pulling harder. How long Holmes would have re-’ malned attached to the turtle no one can eay, but the innocent bystander had the forethought to stop a passing band and hammer mightily on the bass drum. Instantly the deluded turtle let go. Holmes’ bitten hand was dressed at the Coney Island hospital.

"Please, can I get a bed for the night?” The sergeant glanced over his desk and saw a'llttle girl standing there with gingham dress and straw hat. "What is your ngme?" be asked. "I’m Tillie Spabn, and I’m lost," replied the girl. Sergeant Fitzgerald turned the girl over to the matron, Mrs. Minnie Muir, and notified all stations to try to locate her mother. Presently Mrs. Muir came downstairs. "That's a fine little girt you liavs up there,” said Fitzgerald. "Yes, she's a fine little girl—only she’s a boy, and a very bad one at that,” replied Mrs. Muir. "He’s Roy Wisebaum, and it’s the fourth time he’s been here. I just caught him pouring all my sugar out of the window." The home was notified, but the authorities had had enough of Roy. Two small boys brought him his clothes. Where Roy got the girl’s clothes is not known. Roy was turned over to a juvenils court officer. “It ain’t no use trying to be good,” he said.

the stomach he found a watch in perfect condition, the hand* stopped at 13 'minute* after 3 o’clock. At first he didn't know whether to part with th* watch. He was offered 15 for it and refused to sell. Later, however, he was taken with a terrible case of stomach cramps after eating some of the carp. This, taken in connection with th* fact that the fish was caught on Friday and that the watch stopped at IS minutes after 3 o’clock, has convinced him that the tim*p'ece is soaked with bad luck. Now he is looking for the owner or th* man who offered him tW five.