Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 95, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 22 April 1915 — Page 2

WANTS A HELMET; GETS IT FOR HER

Belgian’s Love Story Shows Old Feminine Spur to Carnage Surviving. TROPHY FROM SLAIN FOE Belgian Chauffeur Had No Deal re for Trenches, Willing to Serve Country Elsewhere, Till Louise Marie Spoke. By EDGAR A. MOWRER. (Correspondent Chicago Daily Newa.) Paris. —“bore can only say what it wants by the language of life, action, song, sacrifice, raviahmenL death and the great panorama of creation.” —Edward Carpenter. Love of women is playing its part in thia war, just as it has always done. “Take me to Dunkerque," I said, brandishing my pass. The Belgian chauffeur did not look at IL “What are you going to do there? It does not make any difference to me so long as you have'a pass. And if you haven't the sentinels on the road between here and there’ll have you out quick enough. I’ve got to get some oil for my lamp. It’s getting dark. Come back in ten minutes and we start." Had Fled From Antwerp. A quarter of an hour later I was sitting beside the chauffeur on the front seat of the taxicab with my baggage inside, while the two cylinder motor ehugged along the international highway from Fumes. Belgium, to Dunkerque, in France. “Where are you from?” I asked after a while. The evening mists were Mowing in from the North sea, muffling the deserted fields in layer after layer. “Antwerp.” "What is your trade?” “Driving a car. That is, I used tp be a taxi driver, but now I’m in the ponce, or was before the war. That’s how I can get such good speed out of thia old two-lunger. Of course I had a better car than this at the beginning, but it got left when the ‘bodies’ came into Antwerp. I escaped in this one.” Red, Cross Painted on Car. “You’re in the sanitary services, I suppose,” I hazarded, referring to the red cross largely painted on the glass front I "Yes and no. You see, we haven’t enough cars. Sometimes I transport wounded and sometimes I bring hack nails; just anything. You’d better get out your pass. There’s the frontier and the first control just ahead, And say. I don’t know the password—only up till noon today. I forgot to ask for it at Furnes. But don’t worry, I won’t have any trouble.” Faster motor cars than ours, great limousines and roadsters full of French and Belgian officers raced by in the dark with few lights showing. We were forced to stop some distance from the military post at the French frontier and wait our turn to go through the narrow “S” formed by barricades erected in the road. Buriy Sergeant Quiets Down. “Passes, your passes, please,” cried a burly sergeant of French territorials, shining a light in our faces. He examined mine and handed it back. _L "Where is yours?” he demanded of the former taxi driver. “I haven’t any,” replied my companion, “but don’t look at me like that! It’s a beautiful thing, isn’t it, territorials like you who've never looked a rifle barrel in the eye having the right to stop men like me who haven't missed a fight for three months ? Can't you see my friend here is on a special mission and mustn’t be delayed?” The sergeant was wavering. “Why haven’t you the password?" he asked finally. "Now, that’s a fine question,” spluttered the Belgian, sitting up straight. "I only left Dunkerque this morning. I had the password then, all right—up till noon—‘Carlo’ for the French and ‘Gaston* for the Belgians. But when I got to Furnes, where I expected to stay a little while, here I found I had to take this gentleman back to Dunkerque. Fine chance I had to get a password.” “You can go on,” grunted the sergeant at last, and with much grinding of clutches and brakes we moved slowly beyond the flare of the sentinel's lantern. Colonel Shows His Authority. The scene was repeated at three other controls. It is unforgettable—the lanterns, the reflections In the canal which borders the road, the faces, the darkness, the excessively cold wind blowing in the mists from the sea. At the third control we were about to enter the “S” when there was a clatter of hoofs add flying stones and a voice sliced the darkness: • “Get back there, I tell you, and wait your turn.” In an instant a grizzled French infantry colonel was upon us. His horse suddenly kicked, champed and pawed the earth. “Get back, I say,” the officer cried. “Not a carriage will pass until my men come through.” “We saw no men, but there was no use trying to argue with the colonel, who would have taken the tongue out of us if we had dared to protest. In three minutes We were the head ot a > quarter of a mile of waiting autos. Borne of the first arrivals tried to push . t by, but the old colonel, who had reined

tn hia horse and sat Immobile beside the barricade, greeted the audacious ones with such a fury of oaths that the boldest were cowed and obediently fell in behind us. But where were his men? A minute parsed; perhaps two. Then we heard a'tramping sound, dulled by distance. It grew louder. The first company wound past the barricade and entered the area of our headlight*Tramp, tramp, tramp, tramp. A regiment on the march stretches out ipto a phenomenally long organism. It was 25 minutes before the last of the four pieces of artillery, which brought up the rear of the 3,500 men, had gone beyond us. Dunkerque and Louise Marie. Despite jockeying op the part of the drivers of faster cars behind us, my chauffeur kept his place in the line and we were The first through the control. As we neared Dunkerque, although he bad said little up to this time, he knocked the ashes from bis pipe. "I'm glad to be going back to Dunkerque," he said. “It’s a fine town. They know how a fellow feels when he has been forced out of his own country. Here in France the women and all are so good to you they make you forget how far It is from home, with their wine and candy and fruit they give you. “A fellow wouldn’t be much without women, anyway. When we get there I'm going to hunt up Louise Marie and take her to dinner. You haven’t an extra silver piece or two, have you? Thanks. Well, 1 suppose you’ve been in love. But It’s mighty funny what a

U. S. WARSHIP IN MEXICAN WATERS

This picture shows the U. S S Georgia, one of the United States warships in Mexican waters. The insert is Rear Admiral Caperton, who is in command of the fleet.

BRING WARM NOTES

Mufflers Start Romances Between Soldiers and Maids. Quaint Replies Received to Missives Enclosed in Articles Sent by College Girls to Wounded in HospitalsNew York. —International romances have been interwoven with the legwarmers and mufflers knit by the maids in the dining room of Whittier hall. Teachers’ college of Columbia university, and every mall that comes from the other side brings warm missives from the soldiers convalescing in the hospitals of England and Scotland. No sooner had the needs of the soldiers in the field become known in this country last autumn than Mrs. Marie Seger, who is in charge of the dining services at Whittier hall, devised a scheme to improve the few leisure minutes the waitresses had and also to assist the warriors. With generous contributions of money made by the young woman students, MrsSeger bought a large quantity of gray wool and knitting needles. She gave a quantity to each of the waitresses, hinting that when they had nothing to do—which frequently occurs when some of the girls miss their meals or come late to them —they might knit leg-warmers or mufflers. The waitresses heartily fell in with the idea and the quantity turned out was an excellent tribute to their nimble handiwork and the fine spirit with which they accepted the suggestion. When the goods were being packed for shipment, someone jocosely remarked that they might send along a noth or two to cheer up the soldiers. Mrs. Seger saw no objection to this and half a dozen of the waitresses penned brief notes “to whom our presents are given,” enclosing their names. It was around Christmas that the first shipment was made. Now the thanks of the wounded are coming in with both serious and flippant

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER,. IND.

difference it makes. Here I wm up to a week ago without any desire at all to go Into the trenches. 1 didn’t envy the infantry; seemed to me foolish to go and get killed when you could serve your country just as well doing something else. “Then, one night, down in Dunkerque here, I met Louise Marie. We liked each other from the start. Say, I felt more like a man that evening than I have since the dirty German crew entered Antwerp. After we’d had dinner I asked her what I could do for her to show I had feelings, too. The little beauty (she isn’t really beautiful) said she was crazy for a Prusco’s helmet. Wasn’t Afraid at All. “ ’Louise Marie,’ said L ’l’ll get you one.’ “And I did. I got a chum In the Seventh infantry to change places with me, he in my car and I In the trenches all filled with mud and water, with the ‘boches’ about three hundred yards away. And I was lucky. “That night the Germans attacked. For a time it was hot, but finally they began to retreat. I saw my chance. ’Charge ’em, boys.’ I yelled, and jumped out of the trench and ran forward in the dark, feeling my way until I came to where some German dead were lying. “For a minute I thought I was doing a little one man act, but pretty soon here came our fellows. It was beautiful. Somebody told me our soldiers took a lot of prisoners. Anyhow, Louise Marie has her helmet. The most amazing thing is, I wasn’t afraid at all.”

replies to the notes of the girls. Some of the letters from the soldiers are written in Glasgow, some in Edinburg, but most of them are from St. Andrew’s hospital, Dundee. Most of the knit goods containing the letters were distributed there, hence the interesting notes. One of them read: Dear Fannie : Your note came just in time to make me change my mind. When I got shot on the Alsne I was reported dead. My old girl, hearing of this, up and married a lad that was not man enough to go to war. First I wanted to eat a big enough bullet to make me croak. Then I got mad because I thought if she didn’t care for any more of a man than she married she must have thought I was a fine snicker, too. So now, I want to write to you a lot; Send me your picture when you write again. JOHN Another read: “Dear Maggie : From your name I think you are Irish. From your wit I know you are. From your tone I know you are a nice girl. lam Irish and I am married, but I am going to hunt up a nice Irish lad for you and make him write. And I will make him tell the truth, too. “PATRICK .” Still another, brief but explicit, ran: Dear Jennie : I would like tc marry you, but have two Scotch lassies and three laddies in their kilt# awaiting me home. What’s more, there’s a wee wife, and then sometimes I drink too much Scotch, and nice girts like you can’t beat me like my wife can. SANDY No engagement rings have been received as yet, but then all sorts of romances are woven around Whittier hall, and the maids -now are talking of trips abroad to hunt up their soldier boys when the war is over.

Nelsons Are Barred.

Flushing, N. Y. —“No more Nelsons taken as boarders,” is the sign posted by Mrs. S. S. Nelson, who says she has five (not related).

Walk Far for Job.

New York.—John O’Day walked from Butte, Mont., to Brooklyn in hopes of finding a job. He was dia appointed

BUYING OLD BOOKS

By WALTER JOSEPH DELANEY.

“On this of all days!” sighed John Pembroke, manager of the antiquarian bookshop of William Abercrombie. He had looked forward to this day as a red letter one in the calendar — as the day, In fact, when he was to ask his circumspect, hard-headed employer for the hand of his daughter, Jessie, whom he had loved in secret ever since he had secured his present position and had surreptitiously courted for the past six months. Mr. Abercrombie has been away for two weeks inspecting a famous private library which a client wished to buy. He had left John in full charge of the bookshop. Business had been good and John felt proud over it and had counted on his report placing his gruff, practical-mind-ed employer in good humor. Then he intended to tell him outright that Jessie and himself were engaged. Late the evening previous, however, John had received a note from Jessie that disturbed him and completely discouraged all his ambitious plans. It ran: “I don’t know why, but papa Is in a dreadful temper. It is something about the old Spectator set of books you bought.” And now John worried and chilled, and tried to guess out where he could possibly have been wrong in the purchase in question as he was summoned to the private office of his employer. Mr. Abercrombie’s brow was like a thundercloud. He had the Spectaftor set in question on his desk. As John entered he pointed at the volumes with an angry stabbing finger. “You bought that trash I understand?” he growled out. “Why, yes, sir,” admitted John. “Arid paid six hundred dollars for it?’’ “That was the price, sir.” “Well, you have been swindled. The set is a copy—a rank forgery. To an old expert like myself, such a bare-faced imposition, seems impossible. I have just this to say: the set would not sell for ten dollars and

He Gave His Name as Professor Marsh.

I shall expect you to make up my money you have so recklessly squandered.” John’s heart sank fast and deep. He knew that discussion was useless. Six hundred dollars! Why, even if the old man favored his suit concerning Jessie, that would put off all idea of a speedy wedding. “I beg to say—” began John, but the old tyrant waved all explanations aside. John could have reminded him that a standing order had been with the house for the very set in question. The books looked genuine. John had even submitted them to a very good authority. The dictum of his employer, however, was final. “It should be a lesson to you,” observed the old man gruffly. “It would be a very wise and shrewd man who could play such a swindling trick on me!” John had a hasty talk with Jessie, who decided that the momentous question at issue should be postponed until the six hundred dollars was made up. So, John showed no sullenness or resentment to the arbitrary ultimatum of his hard-headed employer, but went cheerfully about his duties as usual, willing to abide a better condition of affairs. One day there came into the bookshop a veritable old fossil, so far as long straggly white beard and oldfashioned goggles and clothes were concerned. When he announced himself as the president of a newly instituted college in far-away Alberta, the bookseller never doubted his word, for he looked the antiquated pedagogue complete. He gave his name as Professor Marsh and' stated that the college trustees had set apart five thousand dollars to buy a library. For a week he inspected the shelves of the bookstore and its catalogues, writing down a list of innumerable volumes and their prices, and old Abercrombie nibbed his hands quite jovially at the prospects of making a big sale with broad profits. ; i ? Several times the/old professor had

spoken of a set of books representing the works of an obscure and well-nigh forgotten German savant. These covered some abstruse psychological ideals, and had been a great favorite with him, he said, in his younger days. “You might take a run around and see if you can find any trace of the set,” Mr. Abercombie suggested to John one day. “Profesor Marsh, seems very eager for It and has offered two thousand dollars if we can deliver the commission.” John went the rounds. The volumes were nowhere to be found, in fact very few*of the booksellers had ever heard of them. One afternoon, however, he was met by the manager of a rival book house. "I say, Pembroke," observed this individual, “I think I have located those books. In fact, I have found a man who has a complete set. If I direct you "up against him, what is there in it for me?” “Ten per cent” “All right. I’ll send the man to you.” He appeared the next day, a seedy, hungry-looklng fellow, who suggested the actor on a forced vacation, or the average literary hack. Mr. Abercrombie cast a look of vain pride at his manager as he “turned the fellow outside out,” as he boasted chucklingly after the bargain was made, and beat the price down from fifteen hundred dollars to eleven hundred and fifty dollars. “Follow my tactics,” he observed to John. “Get your order before you buy, as I have done.” The owner of the set of rarities appeared the following morning in a cab. The volumes in question were unloaded, the man was paid his price. Mr. Abercrombie turned up his nose at the books as he looked them over. “A clear profit on a lot of old truck with no real value,” he observed. Professor Marsh did not appear as usual that morning, nor In the afternoon. Mr. Abercrombie began to get uneasy, the next morning anxious. He sent John to the hotel where the erudite college president had been stopping. “Gone, sir, left last night,” reported John upon his return. “You—you don’t mean permanently?” questioned the bookseller, a quaver of suspicion In his voice. “I do,” replied John. "Then—” “I fear you are swindled, sir,” reminded the young manager. “Professor Marsh left with a man precisely answering to the description of the person who sold us the books. It was a well put up game, I fear.” Mr. Abercrombie looked e bored, more, humiliated. He put on his hat and went out to investigate. He was subdued and crestfallen when he returned. Jessie happened to be present when he returned. The bookseller pottered around for a spell. Then he came up to Jessie and John, who were conversing casually. “Ahem!” flustered fee old man, “I believe we will say no more about that money you invested some time since. In fact, we’ll call that transaction square.” “Why, thank you, sir,” spoke John gratefully. “And I would not let anyone of our rivals know how cleverly I was duped.” “Indeed not, sir.” “And —I have eyes, and perhaps I am getting past my usefulness. A 'mistake like this! We had better discuss our business mutually after this—" Jessie was beaming. She nudged her lover. "Speak now!" she whispered. Then John proffered his request. Surely opportunity was knocking at his door, and quite graciously old Abercrombie smiled upon the engaged pair and blessed them. (Copyright, 1915, by W. G. Chapman.)

A WAY TO INDOOR HEALTH

Set of Rule* Given New York Shop Worker* Are Worthy of Much Attention. Suggestions for indoor workers such as bookkeepers, clerks, shopworkers, tailors, shoemakers, stenographers, saleswomen, dressmakers, garmentworkers and milliners are contained in a booklet distributed by the New York health department. They included the following: "You should pay careful attention to fresh air, correct position, proper and sufficient lighting, rest and recreation and finally to food and drink. "Constantly keep the shop wirfdows open. “Spend part of the lunch period outdoors. “Don’t ruin your eyes. Watch for the early signs of eye strain. “Study your job. Often the unhealthy position is merely a- faulty one assumed by you, “If you do hard Indoor work you need at least one hour for lunch and recreation. “Why not ask yout employer if you can use the roof of your building dun ing lunch hours? “The midday meal should be light, but wholesome. “Bracers are harmful —this applies to the use of tea, coffee and alcoholic beverages.” V

Sidestepping Them.

“Both your admirers are going to be at the ball tonight; are you going?” “Not me. The one that can’t dance wants to dance all the time, and the one that can’t talk wants to talk all the time.** ’ ■ ,

HINTS WORTH TRYING

kitchen economies that are OF VALUE. It Is Just Buch Little Things as These That the Wise Hpusewlfe Will Do Well to Keep Always In* Mind. Have you ever tried (if your family is large and your kitchen sink small) using an oval tin foot tub instead of the orthodox round dish pan?” An ordinary tin can with a hole punched in the bottom as a soap* saver, In place of the bought wire ones? Washing the kitchen floor, the surbase and the framework about the sink with lye, at the first appearance of those pests, water bugs or roaches? Be sure to apply the solution with a brush and don’t let it touch the hands. Putting a lump of washing soda over the sink drain and pouring hot water ■over it after each dish washing, in order to keep the pipes from clogging? This will save many a plumber’s billScalding out tin sirup cans (the sort that have fitted tops) and using them to keep such things as rice, barley, hominy, beans, etc.? Drying stale scraps of bread in the oven, mashing them to a meal with a rolling pin, and using them in place of the prepared cracker dust for frying cutlets, oysters and the like? Saving the bits of sage, thyme, etc., in the penny potherb that was not used in soups, drying them and using them later in the stufllng for chicken? Some economical housewives find that by careful selection of these potherbs they can get enough parsley for garnishing of several dishes, and usually the smallest bunches of parsley alone sold in the markets cost from three to fivb cents. Using evaporated fruits- —apples peaches, apricots—in place of the fresh ones for duff, dumplings, pies and brown Betty? Flavoring deviled eggs with a dash of vinegar from sweet pickles and using olive oil Instead of butter? A tiny pickled cucumber chopped fine and mixed with the yolk of the egg is an Improvement. Varying fried or broiled halibut stgak by adding a rich brown gravy? The flour must be very brown (not scorched) for this and a goodly lump of butter is required. And by the way, when browning flour for gravy do it under the flame of the gas oven, using a fork to mix it. Fork-mixed thickening is apt to be smoother than spoonmixed. Some people like a thick gravy with sausage, and this is made by creaming the ordinary essence of the sausage and the flour just as you would butter and flour, seasoning to taste and then thinning to the desired consistency with water. There are others who like a cream gravy with ham, and here you moisten the flour with the ham essence and use milk instead of water.

Creamed Salt Cod With Egg.

Pick the cod to pieces, after soaking it in cold water till soft. Throw off part of the water (it can stand quite a lot of salt when using eggs). Put on a little fresh water and cook. Add sufficient milk to make the required amount of gravy. Thicken with flour mixed with a little cold water or milk. Beat light one or two eggs in a deep bowl. When gravy is thickened turn slowly into egg, beating egg with spoon as you pour, and for a second or two after the gravy is all added. Be sure the gravy is boiling when you start to pour, as this is all the cooking the eggs require. Lastly, add pepper and a little butter.

Saves Eggs.

With eggs so high it is an added expense to use two or so in a batter merely to fry foods in. If you do not wish .to use an egg when frying oysters in deep fat make a batter of floor and cream, adding salt, pepper and a pinch of baking powder. Dip the oysters in this', then in fine cracker dust, again in batter, in dust and fry them in deep fat. The oysters seem even more tender than when cooked in the usual egg batter. This can be used in frying (Croquettes, chops and other foods which require a batter.

Making Salted Almonds.

Pour boiling water over shelled almonds. Let stand until the skins will fall off. Pour over them two teaspoonfuls of good olive oil and one teaspoonful of salt and let stand in a bowl for two hours. Put into a dripping pan and brown in a moderate oven, stirring often.

When You Dam Sock's.

It is a good plan in darning stock-, fugs to hold the darned wool for a minute or two over the spout of a kettle of boiling water. This shrinks the wool, and when the stockings are washed there is no fear of mended parts shrinking away from the surrounding parts. ’

Jellied Apricots.

Wash, soak and stew a pound of aried apricots, keeping them as whole as possible. To the juice add a box of strawberry-flavored jelly powder, pour over the fruit, which should be placed in a wet mold Set in a very cold place to congeal. Serve with

To Rinse Colored Blouses.

One ounce of epsom salts added to • gallon of water makes an excellent Hairing mixture for colored blouses and wash dresses.