Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 39, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 15 February 1915 — Page 3

MONTH WITH THE GERMAN ARMY AS DESCRIBED BY AN AMERICAN

Efficiency of the Kaiser’s Great Fighting Machine Wins His Ad-3 miration— Pass, “Too Good to Be True,” Gives Writer an interesting Four Weeks Behind Teuton Lines In Belgium—Arrested and Escorted to Holland Border.

By C. LEROY BALDRIDGE.

(Correspondent Chicago Post.) Amsterdam. —The German occupation of Antwerp had already become a matter of routine when I arrived from Rosendaal. In five days the new city government had adapted itself perfectly to the burgomaster’s offices and was working smoothly. It had even instituted a regular motor bus service to Brussels. But finding a certain cheese merchant who owned a wobbly-kneed animal, too hopeless to be requisitioned, and who said he didn’t care where he went with it, I chose to go that way. We found a war-sw,ept road to the capital; on either side rich growing fields plowed with trenches; tattered remnants of villages and scattered graves. The way was jammed with homeless people carrying their belongings in carts, wheelbarrows, baby buggies—ever fleeing. At Brussels, through the courtesy of Brand Whitlock and the kommandantur, a certain amount of bluff and phenomenal luck, I obtained a pass to travel anywhere within the German lines in Belgium. Moreover it worked —for three weeks. Tries to Go Through Lines to Paris. Thus armed, I decided to attempt the impossible, and go through to Paris, in which I was encouraged by a French Red Cross nurse who was taken prisoner when the city surrendered, and who had a similar ambition. But not even my: freshly stamped papers would tempt any cabman or chauffeur to start with us. There was nothing for it but to walk. During two days we saw little of way except occasional sentries and speeding military automobiles of that famous greenish-gray which blends so well with distance. Peasants were already replanting crops on tor' of trenches and gathering beets, stolidly taking it all as a matter of course. Mme. Lottin, the French nurse, had been named by my Brussels landlord “le Grenadier;’’ and she was. We made 45 kilometers a day. But at Namur she found an opportunity of reaching Paris through Holland, so I proceeded along the Meuse to Dinant, town of terrible memories. This seems the most terribly picturesque city in Belgium. Its jagged walls and falling chimneys rise up hopelessly from heaps of debris in the midst of all that majestic natural grandeur along the two banks of the river. There is the Grotto where 800 women and children crouched in the darkness while the battle ebbed back and forth above them for two days; and the sidewalk near the water where hundr- d» of civilians were said to. have been lined up c.nd shot. Gets Lift In a Supply Wagon. From Dinant a military supply wagon gave me a .lift to Givet, France. But here for the first time my pass was not sufficient, and I narrowly escaped arrest. Walking by way of Fl'drennes I arrived at Thuln. On high ground near the clock tower I stood by a Belgian trench, with the country -spread out maplike all around, while an eye-wit-ness explained graphically about the siege; how the Germans came down under continuous fire, where they built a bridge; how the allies were forced back from point to point and the climax of bayonet charges on the hills behind. And he told me how in the midst of the fight a French officer turned mad and ran frothing at the mquth about the street, terrifying the few people who had remained hid in cellarß. . I advised my guide to practice up on his English to be ready for the curious American tourists of a few years hence. For none will miss Thuin. At the Hotel de Ville a newsboy was crying his papers. Thinking these ■were newspapers he carried under his arm, I bought one. It was an official death list, an«j sold at a penny. By this time my heavy United States army shoes were worn thin. Again I tried to rent some ~ind of vehicle* but not one remained in the city. Finally, however, I was offered a bicycle for 100 francs, which the owner had taken to pieces and hid from the Germans. So, secreting ourselves that night in a basement room, we reconstructed this machine. Btopped at Maubeuge. At Maubeuge, France, a soldier who could talk English was kind enough to explain that, though he had orders to shoot on sight any civilian riding a bicycle, he would be gentle and merely arrest me. Fortunately, the officer in charge had been in the Philippines for 20 years and considered himself almost an American. But I must return to Brussels, he said, and after much difficulty procured a pass for me "mit fahrrad.” I decided to take the long way back. One noon I stopped at a little “estaminet” It was half demolished and had been rechristened, for over thd door was a newly painted sign: “Case de la Battaille de Quatre Bras.” - - Wttbiir. several soldiers were drinking. But one: sat alone, holding the inn-keeper’s little girl in his lap. He stroked her hair and sobbed, declaring

that she was like his own whom he never expected to see again. A train of ten siege guns moved ponderously along the road. Each piece had its ammunition and equipment wagons, and company of soldiers tramping behind; and each was pulled with a large steam traction engine. On the engine boilers were stamped the words: “Made in Leeds, England.” ; The few people remaining In the villages grouped themselves on the high ground, discussing whether the sound of firing were stronger or fainter than in the days before; whether the Germans were retreating or advancing. Killing and Baking. The commissary was at work, killing cattle and hogs, baking bread and sending food to the trenches; ambulance wagons rushed by; wounded who were strong enough came walking to emergency hospitals; and occasionally mid the booming of German guns one heard the long whistle of English shrapneL Meanwhile soldiers marched by always, with their monotonous swinging stride. My pass still worked. And I rode slowly on among scenes which leave in the mind a nightmare of horror; a red vision of machine guns and dead men in bundles; and a feeling more of disgust than admiration for the cold business efficiency with which it is accomplished. At Roujers tyo men of the cycle corps offered to take me to the firing line, and we rode to Westroosebeke. There the gray men lorded and fired, loaded-and fired, never saw the enemy and were hauled back wounded and dead. Some 300 yards in front were the trenches. There other gray men thrust in their “clips of five” and shot at other men’s heads in other trenches. All around the men fell quickly like targets in a shooting gallery. Shells broke and left small clean-white clouds hanging in the sky till the wind waved them away I sat on a railing with a group of privates—several college boys, one professor—by a cottage used as a Red Cross station. We talked of many things, and there was wine—Belgian wine—and there were lots of good cigars—Belgian cigars. These men were resting. They had been out in the trenches and soon were going back. One had seen four classmates killed. Occasionally the sound of shrapnel would turn from whistling into a screech, and then all' would duck instinctively, grin at each other and wonder where It would break. A game, and an interesting (me. Twenty feet away a shot struck, splintered a tree and left-the top half to fall, in yellow smoke, across the road. “Too Good to Be Teue.” This, I felt, was quite near enough. But two of my new friends Insisted upon getting permission to visit the trenches with me. We saw an officer. “How did you get here?" he glared. Then, turning to the soldiers: “Put him under arrest!" “Isn’t my pass good?” I asked. “Too good to be true,” said he. My friends of the bicycle corps, now with loaded guns, one in front, one behind, took me on a day’s ride to Thielt. Here 4 I was stripped and searched and kept with a guard for several days. Then by two armed chauffeurs and a special messenger I was conducted to Ghent. My automobile belonged to a general’s staff and great was my conceit when at our approach all soldierß stiffened to a salute. From Ghent another

GERMANY’S FLAG AT ANTWERP

Hoisting the German flag on Fort Stabrouck at Amwera.

THE EVENING REWBLKSAN, RENSSELAER, IND.

machine returned me at last to Brussels for further examination. 1 was left ont on parole, however, and after a week, at the instigation of the American consul, moat of my papers and sketches, which had previously been taken from me, were returned and I was escorted to the Holland border. My officer hosts assured me thattthey were most happy to have made my acquaintance, but that really all artists were “verboten."

VAGRANT ON TURN OF CARD

Gambler Was SBB,OOO Ahead Whan Single Turn of Card Took All and Hs Became a Tramp. San Francisco. Jambs Parkhill, one-time owner of a $200,000 bank roll and the Bank Exchange faro bank, Deadwood, S. D., who has the reputar tion of making the largest wager on the turn of a single card ever risked ir. the Klondike region, stood before Judge Deasey, tattered, unshaven and broke, charged with vagrancy. It was in 1898 that Parkhill sat in a poker game with "Red” Macintosh, Bill Richards and Frank Hull, all big money men in the Klondike. They were playing in the Park Train saloon, and Parkhill, who stood $68,000 ahead of the game, bantered Hull for a $50,000 wager on the turn of a card. Hull was game. The stakes were put up. Hull, who had the first turn, turned a queen, and Parkhill lost his $50,000 on a seven spot. He told the court that he had toured the world since then, but his life had been a game of ups and downs, with about seven downs to one up. He was begging when arrested. When freed by Judge Deasey he said he would get out of town as quickly as he could.

TO AID VICTIMS OF QUAKE

Mrs. Philip van Valkenburgh, the $10,000,000 widow, has gone to Italy to aid the victims of the earthquakes. She is shown here in one of her “Made in America” gowns.

Aeroplane Hit Many Times.

Berlin. —The wings of the aeroplane of Lieutenant Kaspar, who has made daring flights for the Germans over Calais, Dover and Paris, contain more than four hundred bullet holes, yet he has never been brought down by the enemy.

Wireless Detective.

London. —The British government has a wireless detective. It is a radio plant erected at Cromer for the sole purpose of locating a German sending station that has been causing the British much annoyance.

MATTER OF TEMPER

By LOUISE DRISCOLL.

(Copyright*) Elsworth pushed the Httle electric button and turned to look again about the neighborhood. A long line of hrownstone houses stretched on either side of the way, little pointed bay windows displaying a variety efcheap net or Nottingham lace curtains. The street had never been fashionable. Numerous ash barrels stood quite frankly on the sidewalk and the mistress of the house, as a rule, answered the bell. A maid admitted Elsworth, regarding him with th© indifference born of long service in a lodging house. “Madam win be right down,” she said, and left him standing in the narrow parlor. He recognized some of the furniture. There was a rocking chair he had chosen himself. He felt a little pain creep into his throat as he looked at it. It was as though the inanimate thing had* risen to strike him. And there was the piano. So Rose had kept the piano. It showed the effect of having been moved more times than was good for it. There was an air of disorder in the room, little wads Of dust lay on the floor against the wall, where the rug didn’t meet the baseboard. The table was overlaid with a light cloud of dust. An impulse to run away seized him, a new fear joining the old repugnance; but he conquered both and rose to greet her, looking quiet, only his eyes were tense. Rose had come in carelessly. She supposed he was looking for roqms. “Well, of all things!” she said, and sat down suddenly; and then: “I suppose you’re looking for rooms? Ain’t it funny?” Elsworth found his voice. “Why, no,” he said. He found it was not easy to tell her the truth. “You see—l was looking for you. . I met Sara Walton in London last month. She told me about you. All you had been doing these last years. The time you were on the stage—ln the store —keeping boarders —” She interrupted him. “You didn’t think I was living on what you sent, did you?” she inquired tartly. “I sent all I could," he protested, “and as long as I knew how to reach you; but after Desborough died I couldn’t find out where you were. I have more money now. My last book really paid—you find it hard to believe that?” he smiled for the first time. She refused to meet his jest. “I got along,” she said sullenly. He felt very awkward. Rose hadn’t Changed. He laaghed uneasily. “We made rather a mess of things, Rose,” he said. She flashed another look at him without making any answer, 90 he rfpoke again: “It was rather a shock to meet Sara as I did. She brought it all back to me so vividly. She set me wondering how much of it could have been helped. I know I was wrong a good deal of the time. I want to be fair about that.”

“You haven't changed a bit,” she declared hotly. “You just sit there and talk; and you’ll sit there and talk all night, if I’ll let yon.” Elsworth was slightly offended. It Was all ridiculously like the past they had both dropped. “I only wanted to make the thing clear,” he told her; “if we could talk it over quietly, we might both feel better.” • Rose shook herself impatiently. “What’s the use of talking it over?” she exclaimed. “Who wants to talk it over? I’ve got along all right and you look as though you had." People are good to me—l’m that kind. You got notice of the divorce, didn’t you?” “Yes I—yes,” 1 —yes,” he said, “from Dakota. Yes. To tell you the truth —I confess —I didn’t pay much attention to it. I’ve never thought of marrying again, and I was so busy with my book —•” Rose sniffed audibly. “I can believe that,” she remarked with some asperity. “Perhaps I gave too much attention' to my work,” he confessed. “I can see that now. At first It was with the idea of making more money—you always needed money, Rose.” He was very uncomfortable. “What ground did you give for divorce?” he asked with a pew curiosity as he reviewed their life together. “Nonsupport and extreme cruelty,” -replied Rose glibly. He laughed involuntarily, and Rose stiffened perceptibly, half insulted. Then he rose, and paced the little parlor; twice and three times he went before he stopped in front pf her chair. “Of-course that’s all nonsense,” he said. “You know that as well as I do. I gave you more than I could afford, and you didn’t know what cruelty was. I probably did spend too much time over' my work. You needed a lot of things I never thought of. I don’t blame you for being dissatisfied. I was so tired of quarrels and worried with debts that I wasn’t really sorry when I found, you’d gone. We may as well be honest about that. I just went into my work a little harder and left the country before long. “I sent you money through Desborough as long as I could. After he died I couldn’t seem to reach you.” “Ob; ~rgbr t&mrySm saldT ways do. I’m the Bind people look' out for. I got paid pretty well in the chorus because I’m pretty, and they

put me In the front row. But I couldn’t learn to dance, so I couldn’t get in the next show. Then I went in Oppershatn’s and sold lace for a while till they put me In the millinery to show off hats. Then I had a friend who had a boarding house and she wanted me to come with her, so I did and stayed until she died. We did pretty good, but since then I’ve only kept lodgers because I wasn’t going to bother to try to suit people with meals.” Elsworth stood looking at the rocking chair. It seemed to understand him better than she did. After a minute he came back to her. "There is one thing, Rose, I’ve got to know,” he said. “Sara said —the child—was that true? Was there a child. Rose?” Rose’s eyes went wide with a look that flashed deep into his soul. She clenched her little hands and opened them befores he spoke. “That was soon over. It was born dead,” she said. “When?” “It was eight months after I left I didn’t know till I’d gone. Then it was too late. I went to a hospital. It was bom dead. It was a girl. I didn’t think I had to tell you.” “How you must have hated me,” he said. Rose moved uneasily. “Oh, I don’t hate you now,” she assured him. “I’m like that. I get over things.” Elsworth paced the floor and came back to her again. “Will you try it again, Rose?” he said gently. "I was very wrong. I wish you’d try it again.” Rose edged away from him, shrinking. “Oh, no!” she said. “Oh —no — no! It’s foo late. You’re all right I’m not mad at you. Only—” The door bell rang briskly three times. A sudden change crept into Rose’s manner, a shade of anxiety came into her blue eyes. “You better go,” she urged. “You’re all right. I’m not your kind. It was a mistake always. You’d be sorry. I wish you would go.” She pushed him gently out of the room. It was impossible to mistake her sincerity in wishing him to leave. At the door he passed a portly, redfaced man of prosperous appearance who vouchsafed him a civil nod and entered as one who knew the place.' Elsworth hardly saw him, but stood for a minute looking back at the house before he went on down the shabby street. He had no regret for what he left, but his breath came unevenly because he thought he felt a little hand laid on his heart. The prosperous gentleman gave Rose a cordial greeting. “Got a new lodger?” he inquired. “No,” said Rose. ‘He’s not going to stay. I’m awful sorry I’m not ready —I hadn’t finished dressing.” “That’s all right,” he said indulgently. “You run along and get ready. I’ll wait. And, say—don’t take any more lodgers, anyway. We better get married Vight away. There ain’t no use waiting as I can see. I don’t want you working so hard.” Rose looked at him real affection. “You’re awful good.” she said.

GOOD RESULTS OF ACCIDENTS

Some of tho Mott Valuable Discoveries Have Been Brought About by Chance. How to make starch from com .(maize) was discovered accidentally by Thomas Kingsford, a mechanic. One day he threw a mess of com meal mush into the garbage pail. His wife emptied some lye into the same pail and in the morning when he emptied the pail he was astonished to And a small quantity of starch at the bottom. Thomas Bolsover, a Sheffield mechanic, was mending the handle of a knife made of copper and silver. He saw these metals fuse together and the idea of silver plating was bom in his mind. He laid a thin plate of silver on a heavier one of copper and heated them till the edge of the silver began to melt. He took them from the fire, let them cool slightly, then rolled and hammered them to the desired thickness. This was the origin of “Sheffield plate,” all of which was made in this way until electroplating was invented. Cornelius Dubbel left a bottle of aqua regia (a mixture of nitric and muriatic acids) on a shelf. It felf over; the acid ran down over a win dow and dropped into a bottle containing an extract of cochineal. This turned to a vivid scarlet. Dubbel found that the acid had dissolved some of the tin of the window casing and the combination had produced a new color. A few experiments added the most brilliant color to the list of dyes.

Polish That Brings Out Natural Tint.

A superior polish that is said to have been kept always on hand a century ago in the best households is a simple mixture and is made so inexpensively at home that it can be used as freely to keep the hardwood floors'in order as for polishing furniture,-says the Washington Herald. A quart of turpentine may be used and added, cut into fine pieces, a quarter of a pound of the beeswax —the old yellow variety. It will take several days to dissolve the wax, but a little shaking at intervals will shorten the time. When it Is ready to use it will be of the consistency of cream, and should be utoed sparingly and rubbed in well with an old piece of flannel. If used lavishly as one is tempted to do with things that are cheap, it will look smeary. The luster from this polish is beat*, tiful and enduring. Every time it is used it seems to enrich and bring ont the natural tints of the grain.

CONTACT WITH GOD

Peace and iey in the Consciousness That He Abides With Us. -And they constrained him, saying— Abide with us.”—Lake 14:29. The two disciples on the way to Em mans were full of confusion, disappointment and despair. The stranger who joined them and taught them the meaning of the Scriptures, brought a sense of order Into their chaotic minds and a feeling of mingled peace and hope into their sorrowing hearts. As they reached the door of their home they felt that they could not allow the companionship to terminate abruptly. If he had told them so much he might tell them more; if he had brought comfort he might bring them joy. So they bade him enter and abide, in order that they might carry the chance companionship into an intimate friendship. They had seen but a glimpse and felt but a touch of his extraordinary personality and they wanted more. Under the constraint he entered and revealed himself without reserve—their Savior. Is it not true that our lives are incoherent and futile and disappointing? Ia it not also true that there have been times when our hearts hava burned as we have come in contact with sacred things? We have known a little of God, and a little of Jesus Christ; perhaps if we could establish a more permanent relationship, if we could have a consciousness that God really abides with us, all the unsatisfactoriness and all , the frustration might pass away and we should hava peace and joy. Life's Vicissitudes. Every life is marked by great unevenness. We have wonderful elevations and deep depressions, moments of splendor and hours of sordid commonplaceness, dashes of divinity and periods of brutishness. Occasionally we are breathed upon by the spirit of inspiration, when we see clearly and resolve nobly, bat only to pass again into the twilight and to be torn once more by Irresolution. When we rise to our best we concede it to be religion, the influence of God upon our hearts and minds; If only it were constant we might be saints and heroes. How can these exceptional experiences be made normal? By a more sustained intimacy with Jesus Christ Our contact with him has been too casual and accidental. We have not invited him to abide with us, but have been content with the passing glimpse. If the fugitive episode can be changed into a permanent relationship, if we can come more completely under the spell of his controlling and compelling personality, we can always be at our best, and life will be satisfactory. Many have had but a glimpse of Christ’s character. We have seen it loom up out of the mists of history, easily distinguishable from every other human object, but we have never given ourselves up p> a* careful and thoughtful study of the, kind of being he mast have been. What we have seen has interested us, but it has not influenced ns to any great degree. Many have had only a glimpse of his teaching. All of ns know a few of the wonderful words that fell from his lips, because they have. become proverbs of common speech; but few of us have studied his axioms and parables and conversations aa an adequate revelation of God for human need; fewer still have deliberately tried to apply the principles that he uttered to every phase of living, private, domestic, social, commercial and political. Men and women -will find if they wish to find that the irregularities and disappointments and discrepancies of their lives are the result of an incomplete, indeed, a very partial knowledge of God. We have some truth, W* have come under his dominion occasionally, he has lifted us now and then, here and there, to great heights, but he has not held ns there. In order to carry onr lives to a consistently high elevation, to establish our hopes as convictions and our Ideals as accomplishments we need to pray the prayer of the two disciples: “Lord, abide with us.”

Get Ready.

It is a great thing to be prepared, not only to die, but 'also to live. The prizes of life —the higher, if not always the lower material prizes—go to the man who is there, and who is there as a prepared man. The best advice, then, that can be given to a young man or woman is this: “Be ready!” But no one can be ready, without getting ready, and to get ready, for any great task, at any rate, is a matter of time, perhaps also of much toll and severe sacrifice. Often we fail to achieve the best results because we do not take time to get ready, our zeal springing up like the squash, instead of hardening into fiber like the oak. The best values in life come high and come hard. But how vast are the rewards that are insured for the man who is ready in the day of his chance, only God and the angels can estimate.

Doubt and Unbelief.

Christ never failed to distinguish between doubt and unbelief. Doubt Is can’t believe, unbelief is won’t behave.. Doubt-is- honesty unbelief-is. obstinacy. Doubt is looking for lights unbelief is content with darkness^— Henry Drummond. -:rv