Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 249, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 18 October 1913 — Page 2

HER FIRST BERRIES

By SUSANNA GLENN. Anthony Owen trusted devoutly that he had succeded In covering his tracks behind him. Who would think of his coming to this old retreat where he used to hide and work before success had begun to smile in his direction. “This certainly looks first rate," Anthony acknowledged, looking over the the tiny garden from the back porch. “I cannot see that the place has changed at all in the past ten years ■except that those trees along the border have responded to the mulching we gave them.” ‘‘lt’s all just the same, sir,” agreed the owner, “only that I’ve rented the cottage back of you, at last. That place has been a dead loss to me these ten years back, and I was ftighty pleased when this young woman came and took a notion to it. I suppose you would rather have it empty, but Miss Carson seems a quiet little person and not over neighborly so far, so I reckon you'll get along all right.” During the week that followed, Owen enjoyed himself with a thoroughness that increased whenever he thought of his Aunt Harriet. “I’ll show her,” he said at such moments, ‘‘that there is a limit even to her generalship in my affairs.” The little woman in the adjoining garden he, first began noticing because she so completely ignored him. “She’s trying to clean up that garden herself,” he discovered one day. “Pity olcLJones could not do it for her —he •would not dare impose on a man that way.” _ _ _ “But I would not let Mr. Jones fix it,” she explained when he at last vouchsafed his opinion of Jones, neighborly fashion, across the dividing hedge. “I wished to do it myself. Do you think I have improved It at alir “You have certainly done wonders. But you’re not pruning those roses right—you will ruin them that way. Here, let me show you.”

There was a little green gate In the hedge which opened upon disused hinges. “They need spraying and a mulch/* was his verdict, upon closer examination of the straggling roses. ‘Tit lend you some books on gardening if you care for them.’* When Owen returned to his own garden an hour later, he carried a very pleasant impression of a girl with a perfectly natural manner, rather plain of face, and wearing a print dress well suited to her occupation of digging in the dark soil. “Now there,” he soliloquized in deep satisfaction, “is a girl one might enjoy having for a She seems unusually intelligent and sensible.” Beyond a doubt Ruth Carson proved to be a good neighbor. She read the garden books with avidity, relied with a flattering confidence upon her neighbor’s opinion on all garden topics, and worked with that abandon born of real love of all growing things. "I think you deserve a special treat for what you have done for my garden," one sultry afternoon, bringing into the delipidated arbor where they had been resting, dishes of some tempting frozen concoction. “These are the first berries from my vines and I made the cream myself, so do not dare criticise it!” “All —surely you do not mean you turned the crank?” For the answer she opened her hand, showing the blisters on the pink palm. “You"' should not have done it,” he objected, impatiently. “Why did you not call me?” “Indeed I should not trouble you in any such way," she retorted, with a formality that angered him unreasonably. “What is there about this Ruth Carson that seems different from other girls?” he questioned himself daily. For be it known that Anthony Owen, in spite of his fine height and intellectual achievements, was an extremely bashful man. “She doesn’t demand attentions like the girls Aunt Harriet is bo fond of bringing out for my benefit.” And he grinned broadly at thought of Aunt Harriet and her delayed matrimonial schemes. “For I shall have to go home after a while and face the music,” he admitted reluctantly. "Mr. Owen,” said his neighbor as they sat in her garden enjoying the roses that had responded to their united efforts at restoration, “I’ve been wondering about you—you seem so strong, so full of life, and yet you go out bo little. I cannot understand why you are contented to your tiny garden.” -it

“I am not contented in my own garden, young lady,” he smiled. “But I do not dare go out; you see, I —am in hiding!” "Are you, truly? ißn’t that the strangest thing, for so am I, myself.” "Suppose you let me tell you. It is net really bo bacFfes it sounds. I'm simply hiding from Aunt Harriet. She —you see, she's determined to marry me off!” The girl laughed out merrily. "And you ran away? Is not that rather—not very brave, you know?" "I’m not brave when it comes to girls, though I am not exactly a coward in other respects. I've never cared much for girls, some' way. hfy life has been pretty full of good, hard work, and I never learned the ways women seem to like. 1 never know what to say to them,” he admitted, resignedly. “Bat you have been so nice to me,” aha said, "1 should never dream Wd-

that you were bashful, Mr. Owen. And surely, you cannot remain here forever?” “No, she has found me. out. She threatens to come down here and bring the girl with her If I; do not come home. Is your trouble as serious as that, Miss Carson?” “Oh, much, much worse, I am sure;*’ she answered seriously. “And yet, I ran away fPom the kindest people in the world. I wanted a home so much, a home where I could do things—make beds and wash the dishes and dig in the garden, 4o you understand ?’^ “And you like it?” he inquired. “I love it! But, I too, shall have to go back,” with a sigh. 1 There was silence in the old garden. | Then the man looked at the girl ; triumphantly. “Neither of us need go : back,” he declared. “Why not stay, Ruth ? If you will marry me, you can keep your home, and I will escape Aunt Harriet’s matchmaking. Don’t; you believe we could be very happy here?” He looked about the garden with a sudden realizing sense of what it had come to mean to him. “That might help me out of my difficulty,” she acqnowledged gently, “but how could it help you?” The bashful man reached over and took her hands in his own. “But it would be a great happiness to marry you, Ruth Carson,” he insisted earnestly. /“You have seemed different from the rest I have loved you all this time, and did not know what it means.” “I’m not a suitable wife for you,” she objected, glancing at the pink print of her gown. v That is why I want you, Ruth, because you are natural and sweet.” He endeavored to draw her toward him. “Oh, wait,” she begged. “Wait until I come back,” and she was across the garden in a flash. “I believe she cares —I really believe she cares,” whispered the man, and a vision of an indignant Aunt Harriet troubled him guiltily. Then the door of the cottage reopened and a girl floated back to him, a girl with marvelous hair and lustrous silken draperies. “I couldn’t let you go any farther,” she panted, “without letting you know. I —l am that girl your aunt "''has threatened to bring here.” Her voice choked miserably. “You? But you are not rich and brilliant and beautiful —I mean I had not thought about your being beautiful before!” His voice trailed off as miserably as her own. “Listen,” she came nearer and laid her hand on his arm, a tanned little, hand that he longed to crush in his own. “I came on purpose. I wanted to see how we should get on together. I wanted you because —you are what you .-Are! We can have a little house like this where no one else is ever allowed. If you loved Ruth Carson, why cannot you love Ruth Emerson?” “But —you are rich and all of the things I am afraid of. People will say I married you for your money.” “We shall know better, Tony, dear,” she whispered, slipping shamelessly into his inviting arms, “that is the beautiful part of it” (Copyright, 1913, by the McClure Newspaper Syndicate.) ,

TANGO DUE TO NEURASTHENIA

Explanation of the Apparent “Craze" Thus Made by a Writer in Medical Journal. The dancing epidemic which the country is witnessing recalls in some respects the dancing mania of the middle ages, which has been frequently discussed in the litearture of neurological medicine, remarks a writer in Medical Timeß. The ragtime and turkey trot manias appear to be contagious in much the same way that the medieval manias were. They are also alike in respect to widespread prevalence, the populations of whole continents being affected. These neurotic phenomena have been ascribed to widespread neurasthenia, due to unrest and other pathological social conditions. These and the naive determination to be “amused” that characterized the masses, together with the peculiar influence of a type of "music” which seems to set up characteristic motor reactions, account for the specially sensitized class which may be observed in action day and night almost anywhere in the country. This class illustrates well the principles laid down by M. -Le Bon, that authority on the psychology of the crowd. Then it has been pointed out that many ragtime tunes are versions of negro revival hymns, which perhaps introduces an element of quasi-religious emotionalism and also recalls the interesting fact that dancing has always been connected with religion, especially pagan religion. The Instinct to dance is a very primitive one, and through the dance certain emotions find outlet and expression. There is a normal and an abnormal phase to the subject, however, and we are inclined to think that it is the latter that finds exemplification in ragtime and trotting.

Privation.

"I feel sorry for that baseball pitcher,” said the enthusiastic fan. "Why, he is one of the luckiest men in the world!” "Yeß. But he misses one of the greatest pleasures I know of. He can't sit out in the grand stand and watch himself pitch a game.”—Washington Star.

Provocation.

Charged with using bad language, a woman defendant at the West Hartlepool court said she got excited because the complainant called her Mrs. Pankburst—London Globe.

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER, Tnd7

COAL TRAILER AND BATTERY TRUCK

The accompanying illustration shows an immense electric tractor and trailer, designed at Detroit, Mich., for the purpose of transporting fuel from coal yards to an electric power plant. It may be stated that this trailer is capable of carrying 12 tons of coal and is loaded in the coal yards from a hopper so that the time for loading and unloading is about eight minutes. One round trip is made hourly and two 05 three carloads can be handled per day. The labor for transferring this coal is reduced to a minimum, as but one man is necessary for all the work involved.— Popular Electricity.

MAKES FASTEST TIME

FRENCH TRAIN HOLDS WORLD'S RECORD IN THIS RESPECT. Average Speed of 75 Miles an Hour la Maintained for a Distance of 185 Miles, from Paris to Calais. At this time of the year the most Anglo-Saxon place in France is a railway station in Paris —the Gare du Nord, says a correspondent. But how few of the passengers to the coast realize they travel by the fastest train in the world —at a speed of 75 miles an hour! For an aeroplane this is not remarkable, but here we have a ponderous thing of 400 tons, and which carries 400 passengers. This is certainly an age of speed sensations.

The distance of 185 miles from Paris to Calais is covered in 3 hours 10 minutes. The average for the two daily trains is 57 miles an hour. But there are gradients to be mounted, there are checks at signals to be made up, there are <t junctions that must be passed through cautiously, and curves to be rounded where the speed must drop to below forty. The high average of 57 miles is only kept up by traveling over the long straight reaches of the line, where it Is perfectly safe to do so, at 75 miles an hour, the highest speed allowed by law in France. Describing his ride on the engine on one of these Paris-Calais trains, a journalist compared it to a small earthquake. The floor of the 86-ton engine he said swung from side to side. The thick steel rod to which I was holding quivered and jerked as If it were lose. The needle leapt up the dial in a series of convulsive little jerks. We shot past a local train on another line as a motorcar overtakes a rabbit. We hurtled through tunnels black as a mine, where the roof pressed down on one till eardrums were fit to burst with the din, and where the sweating stoker, Jerking open the whitehot cavern of a furnace, gleamed red as he swung his shovel, like a demon of Hades. At last, the train pulls up alongside the steamer in Calais harbor. It had, taken four tons of coal and 140 cubic feet of water to take us there. Yet none of the passengers even glanced at the new $25,000 engine that had brought them on their homeward way at this wonderful speed.

Blunders in Book Titles.

There ie always, a crop of amusing mistakes concerning titles. Nothing so taxes the ingenuity of the bookseller as these phonetic endeavors to get at the name of a book. Who but a genius could conceive that by “Within or Outside the Pail” was meant "Beyond the Pale,” or that by “The Forgotten Cigar” a customer meant “For God and the Czar!” Even Mr. Bullen would be puzzled by a reference to “Screws of the Cash Lock” for “The Cruise of the Cachelot." Some other amusing blunders are “She Strips to Congo” for “She Stoops to Conquer,” “Hero of the Week” for ‘iHereward the Wake,” “Lined Pockets” for “Lying Prophets,” and “Bad Acre of Greece" for Baedeker’s “Greece.”

Ancient English City.

Leicester, England, where the manufacture of plain and fancy hosiery was introduced In 1680, and is now equaled only by Nottingham, is of great antiquity, though the greater part of the town is modern. Under the name of Ratiscorlon it was an important Roman station. It was also one of the five old Danish burgs, and until 874 was an ecclesiastical see. Its charter of incorporation was obtained from King John, and parliaments were held in the town by Henry V. in. 1414 and Henry VI. in 1426. In the neighborhood of the town are the remains of the abbey of Black Canons, which was founded in 1143.

Needs of “First Offender.”

I have seen very many first offenders and talked to them before they got into the hands of pleaders and others, and my experience tells me that a man who has committed his first offense is very like a man who has caught his first attack of serious Illness. He is afraid not so much of the results as of the thing Itself. Sin has caught him and he is afraid of sin. He wants protection and help and cure. He does not want to hide anything; his first need is confession to some understanding ear. Many, many such confessions have I heard in the old days. That is the result of the first offense. —Free* the Atlantic. * (

IMPRESSING NEED OF CAUTION

Western Railroad Has Set Forth Some Suggestions for Consideration of Employes. Here is a list of safety precepts prepared by the welfare men of a western line and which are deemed useful for reproduction on bulletin boards, pay envelopes and other printed matter to further the cause of accident prevention: “It is the chance takers who make widows and orphans. “It is better to cause a delay than an accident. Speed must always give way to safety. “What the men and management want and need is safety and regularity. “Every employe should appoint himself a committee of one to prevent one accident and if this was done we would wipe out the accidents. “Every employe should report promptly to his superintendent, foreman, to some member of the safety committee or other proper person every unsafe condition or method so that the same could be remedied. ''What Is needed is more safety men as well as safety things. “It takes less time to prevent an accident than it does to make a report of one.”

Getting a Line on Robert.

The president of a large manufacturing concern decided a little while ago to start his son in the business, letting him begin at the bottom. After the boy’s first day in the factory, his father asked: “Well, Robert, what did you learn today?” “Oh, there’s nothing much to learn in that place,” the young man airily replied. The father looked worried, but he refrained from giving expression to his disappointment. After Robert’s second day at the works the father asked: 4 “Well, what did you learn today?” “Oh, I learned a good many things,” the young man answered. At the end of the third day the father again asked: • “Well, Robert, what did you learn today?” “Gee, dad,” the boy replied, "I never can learn that business.” Then the delighted father clapped a hand upon his son’s shoulder and said: “Robert, you’re all right. I guess you’ll be able to take hold of things when I have to let go, but you had me worried at the start.”—Chicago Rec-ord-Herald.

Bram and His Freedom.

It Is the testimony of Warden Moyer of the Federal prison at Atlanta that Thomas M. C. Bram, who has served 17 years of a life sentence, has been during that time a power for good in the institution. Few men who have served a long sentence leave the institution with expressions and sentiments like those of bram. This is what he says: “The first thing that I am going to buy is a bunch of flowers, and I’m going to send them to Warden Moyer. He has been kind to me. Then I am going to get me a room and go into it by myself and have a good cry. I’ve gat to have that cry before I realize it’s true. Then I’ll want to pray a little. And after that I want work.” “Flowers, self-communion, prayer* then work.” This is ajprogram that commands respect. If there are more such prisoners who can be as warmly endorsed by the prison officials there should be more paroles.—Boston Globe.

Cost of War.

"Wars have become very dear,” said M. Theodoroff, the Bulgarian minister of finance, to a Sofia correspondent of the Manchester Guardian. “To maintain our armieß in ttta field costs us between £IOO,OOO and a day. Since the beginning of hostilities we have lost 30,000 soldiers by battle or sickness, which means 30,000 families to care for. The pensions to the dependents of the dead alone will mean an annual expense of £160,000. Then during the war we have contracted debts and made requisitions which must be paid for. Our rifles, our guns, our whole military equipment is worn out, and must be replaced.”

Lone Celebrity.

“So this is home condng week in Hodgevllle f” "Yes, but the only man who ever succeeded in putting this town on the map won't be here." "Unavoidably detained.” “Yes. He’s in the penitentiary. Birmingham Age-World.

The ONLOOKER

by HENRY HOWLAND

He never told his love: she met him at the door And told him that he ne’er had looked so well before: She said she was so glad he had been pleased to call. And, talking, took his hat and hunj: It in the hall. She’d thought of him all day, she hastened to declare; She led him to a nook and sat beside him there; She deftly smoothed his tie and tucked one corner In, And with her little hand she softly touched his chin. —*> ' She told him she was sure he*d some day make diis mark: The nook in which they sat was all their own, and dark; _ He found her in his arms and vowing to be true: He never told his love —she made U needless to.

What He Wanted.

“Now,” said the celebrated designer, who had been called in by the new billionaire to talk over plans for a $500,000 yacht,” we have come to an understanding concerning the size of the craft, but what about the bulwarks and hatchways?” “Bull works!” exclaimed Mr. Wadhams; “I don’t want no bull works. This ain’t a-goin’ to be no cattle ship, anfi as for hatchways, go! dum it, I don’t want any of ’em aboard. Just you see about a place fer a good big ice box and don’t pay no ’tention to Incubaters or anything of the kind. No chicken on this boat! I want you to understand b’ gosh that I don’t eat nothin’ cheaper’n quail with feathers on now da^s!”

SURE ON ONE POINT.

"Doctor,” she asked, “do you really

poor widow is going to get off a good deal easier than he deserves.”

His Mother's Boy.

"Where did your son get all the experience It must have been necessary for him to acquire before he could write as he does? He must have traveled much and seen many things.” , "No, he has never been much of a traveler, but he’s been married for three years to a woman who could fit any man out with a full set of experiences inside of two weeks."

Inhumanity of Man.

"Ah,” the beautiful girl cried, as she took the roll of manuscript that the hard-looking old fellow with the glasses had handed back. “I don’t believe you have any poetry in your soul!” "No,” he replied, looking at the waste basket. “I suppose I haven't; but If you need any in your business you can find a lot o! it in there.”

As Sure as Fate.

A thousand times I praised him when He wasn’t near To hear. But no one hurried then To tell him of the things I said; One day I dropped, behind his back, A slighting word—- , 'Twas heard— And sre that day had passed, alack! He knew and, passing, turned his head.

Wonders of Motherhood.

"Dear, dear, dear,” said Mrs. Ka Flyppe, "It doesn’t seem as if I could possibly be old enough to have a daughter who is engaged.” "No," replied her kind-hearted friend, “you couldn’t really have been over 26 or 28 when you got married, were you?"

Wonderful Performance.

"Fred made a remarkable record with his automobile last Sunday.” ‘"How many miles did he go?" ■ft don’t know anything abmt tha distance, but he ran the thing nearly all day without hurting anybody oi breaking down once.”

believe there Is a hell where people are roasted forever?” “If there isn’t,” the good man replied, “the fellow who sells a short ton of coal to a

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Net Gain.

“Did your son take anything at college this year?” “He did —the mumps.”

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Stable Locked.

“When did you learn that he was one of the bank’s most trusted employes?” “The day after he absconded with the funds.”

Needle Travels Fifty Years.

L. G. Tlbbals, sixty-one years old, of Norfolk, got a needle in his body more than half a century ago. A doctor (ms just extracted It In two parts fnom Tibbals’ right elbow. It was corroded. In traveling through his body the needle had never given him any trouble until last spring, when he experienced a pricking sensation in the arm when he lifted anything. Recently the elbow beghn to swell.—Winsted (Conn.) Dispatch to the( New York World.

Wayside Advertising. The advertsing manager of a leading French business firm has evolyed an ingenious plan for evading the prohibitive taxes imposed by the law of July 12, 1912, on unsightly billboards disfiguring the countryside. For the long, ugly advertisement boards flanking the railway, which formerly were a blot on the garden city of Paris and its suburbs, a Juvisy firm has now substituted a large bed of flowers in a field adjoining the Orleans line, the design, representing a yellow cow, which Is the trademark of the article in which the firm trades. Thereby it not only circumvents the law, but also provides a more effective advertisement than that offered by the former billboards. The plan has proved so satisfactory that it is expected" that railways in the neighborhood of large French towns will be beautified by similar floral parterres, designed to advertise articles of commerce.

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