Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 150, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 25 June 1915 — Page 3

to assisted by the writen reports of subordinate commanders serving under him. ▲ dispatch has to describe in detail every action fought, irrespective of Its magnitude, and also to treat of gallant or meritorious conduct of individuals or units. 1 To compose a dispatch is Ha* from simple, and many officers are quite unable to draw one up in proper form. They either become prolix or else fail to give adequate information. The dispatches of Sir John French, however, are models of what such reports should be. Most of the clerical work in the field is carried out by a special branch of the headquarters staff under the supervision of a Deputy Adjutant General. This officer is responsible for, among other matters, giving early notice of the prospective requirements of the troops in the firing line, the notification of casualties, the registration of prisoners of war, the custody of court-martial returns and documents and transmission of war diaries. In attending to all this quite an army of soldier clerks Is wanted.

LIKES CAKES FRIED WITH BOOT GREASE

German Soldiers in Trenchss Dig Kitchen Where Fires Bum Day and Night. Berlin. German soldiers in the trenches have discovered a new delicacy. According to a letter written by the cook off a company, the human moles prefer potato pancakes to any other dish the kitchen is able to furnish. They are bound to have their “puff; ers,” as they call them, and they are willing to forego the pleasure of chewing embalmed beef as long as they may enjoy the crisp flapjacks, consisting of mashed potatoes and something which tastes almost like lard. But, while potatoes are plentiful, three is sometimes a scarcity of lard. j So it takes the inventive genius of a’ cook to find substitutes for lard. One,' day when the whole company was) clamoring for potato pancakes and not ( a chunk of lard could be found for miles around, not even with the help of! a military searchlight, the cook espied > an orderly sergeant dealing out tallow for greasing the boots. “Halt!” the cook commanded, seizing the tallow. There were protests on the part of the soldiers. Boots should be well greased when the trenches are half filled with water. “Do you want dry feet or potato pancakes?” the cook demanded. “Give us potato pancakes, never mind our feet,” the answer came In unison. So the cooks firied flapjacks in the grease that was destined for boots. “How did they taste?” asked the captain after the last of the cakes had disappeared. “Fine,” every soldier answered, licking his Augers and rubbing the spot where the sipker had disappeared. . This particular company built a shel-‘ ter entirely under ground. It is about; 13 feet square and 10 feet deep. The roof consists of several layers of planks, earth and straw. It will protect the Inhabitants against anything but 21-centimeter shells. The trenches of the »French and the Germans in this section are about 100 yards apart. The villages in the rear of the German trenches have been entlrly demolished by French shells. The Germans have to £dlg their way In whenever they want to find anything to eat in the cellars of deserted farmhouses, now entirely In ruins. Still they find occasionally large quantities of wine and canned goods.

Freaks of Bullets

London—A sapper In the Royal engineers tells the story of an extraordinary escape which one of his- comrades experienced. A bullet took his cap off and cut a groove through his hair, without injuring the scalp, in such a manner that it looked as though he had carefully parted his hair down the center. This is but another illustration of the tricks that bullets play at times. It is doubtful, however, if any soldier in the present campaign has had such a marvelous escape as Lieut. A. C. Johnson, the Hants County cricketer, who relates how, shortly before he .was slightly wounded, a shell hit the 'wall six inches above his head, while shortly afterwards a bullet hit the ground half a yard in front of him, bounded up and hit him on the body, bruising his ribs. Then a bullet hit him over the heart, but was spent before reaching him, and when in the hospital he picked it out of his lefthand breast pocket and sent it home to his wife. A charmed life, too, seems to be borne by a private of the Manchester regiment, who relates how, while smoking a cigaret in the trenches a bullet took the cigaret out of his mouth, while another cut the crown oft hie leaving the peak still sticking on his head. And it is characteristic of the humor of “Tommy," even-when the fire is hottest, than when a bullet took oft the top of a tin of bully beef which another private had in his hand, he looked sit it, coolly turned round, m grist a bow in the direction of the enemy and thanked them for saving him the trouble of finding a tin opener.

•Tommy" Leave; Voice at Home Tupnrinn-—There used to be an old semi-military song in which the phrase “Leave me a photograph —don’t forget a photograph," occurred frequently. It was supposed to be sung'by a soldier's sweetheart who was seeing him off t» the wars. New, however, the British soldiers have discovered a new kind of souvenir tQ leave behind than with their loved ones—a talking machine record Of their voices.

SOLDIERS' CLOTHES BIG WAR PROBLEM

France Has Had Difficulty In Supply- - log Her 4,000,000 Men. *•*•«&■*— Paris. —When France comes to add up the cost of the present war one of the principal items will be found to be the money paid out for the uniforms, underwear and shoes of her soldiers. Nearly 4,000,000 men are under arms, and campaign conditions lead to a wear and tear of clothing far In excess of that which prevails In ordinary tactics. The beginning of hostilities found the government lamentably short of uniforms. Successive regimes In the war department had been a little too economical, and the stock was barely sufficient to clothe the men who responded to the first mobilization call. There were very few uniforms for the Territorials and none for the new elaeses of 1914 and 1915. It was necessary to set an army of tailors to work on an overtime basis and scour the world for cloth with which to keep them busy turning out these much needed uniforms. According to the figures prepared by a competent authority, the army needs nob lees than 100,090 meters of cloth per day, whereas the normal production of French mills before the war war 4;000 meters About 50,000 pairs of shoes peTCmy are required, while ehirts and drawers take 16,000,900 meters of material per month. Haversacks and belts mast be replaced to the tune of .more than a million per month. At least a million and a half new canq> utensils are needed every month.

TOMMY IS WRITER OF "MOIST" LETTER

With Water, Water Everywhere, Private Longs for a Nice Hot Bath. London. —'‘Same what an ..American would on this bit from the pen of a British private now at the front: “I had the most miserable time in my life two nights ago; we went into some reserve trenches, which are 2 feet wide and 2 feet 6 inches deep; they are covered with straw and mud and sticks so as to be hidden; there is no room even to sit up and they are absolutely dark; it began raining like blazes In the middle of the night and went on incessantly; the water came pouring in, and finally, after lying soaked to ike skin In about 3 inches of mud and water, we had the order to evacuate them. It really was perfectly awful; we had nothing to change into, as our packs with a spare shirt and socks In were full of mud and water. How I longed for a hot bath and some whisky and a nice warm bed. “We were sent into an old bulletriddled barn and had three sows, some little pigs and a goat as bed-fellows, ljut it was absolutely Paradise to what we had just been experiencing. “Last night we left at 7 o’clock and got to bed at 1:20 in the morning. It was raining the whole day and our kits seemed like lead; It is awfully heqvy at the best of times, but when one’s blanket and coat Is soaked it is too awful to carry with a rifle and 200 rounds of ammunition.”

SOLDIERS WEARING HIDES OF SHEEP

Flarea and Close Battles at Ona Point —-Sidelights on tha Great War. Paris, France —Six months of living in the open has almost turned the soldiers into brutes, 0b far as their appearance goes. Most of the French soldiers, owing to their coetome, have the appearance of primitive men. Uniforms are caked with mud and tattered beyond recognition. Coats have been stripped of brass buttons and gay braid. Undressed hides of sheep, worn with the skin side out to shed rain, are tied on the backs of the men with thongs. Beards are long and unkempt The Germans in the opposite trenches are in like condition. Near Pont-a-Mousson savage fighting has continued almost daily. While siege conditions prevail at most points along the battle line, there the French and Germans have had close battles with bayonet against bayonet, revolver against revolver and sometimes fist against fist A few days ago a French officer shot a German so close at hand that the Revolver he used was stained with small spatterings of blood from Us enemy’s wound.

Crown Prince Helps Carry Mail

Berlin, Germany. —The popularity of the German Crown Prince is immeasurably Increased by such Incidents as are related by a correspondent in the following extract from the Vosslche Zeitung: “Our Crown Prince Is the darling of all the soldiers. His straightforward, light hearted mien conquers all hearts, and It is a pleasure to see how he is greeted by his troops. One little episode may Interest you. While we were on the way to the trenches an automobile came and could get no farther, owing to the mad in the road. Two soldiers passed by, heavily laden with postal bags. The Crown Prince ordered them to give some of the sacks to ns to cafry, and he himself and Us adjutant picked np another. You cannot <TTin ar l "» the cheering that broke out from the men when we marched Into the trenches, the Crown Pgaee & t our head. *The Crown Prince has brought us the post himself!’ they shouted, and crowded around hi” to such an extent that I was compelled to shoulder my way through. Not only our troops, hut the French populace Eke him."

Borne men never nee kind words if (toere’s a dub body.

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER, IND.

DEATH WEB WOVEN BY MACHINE GUNS

Thought of Doty and Peril Surge Together in Mind of Soldier Under Fire« TRIES HARD VO THINK OF FIGHT \ o Barbed Wire Halts Charge of the French in Face of Deadly Leaden Hail. Palis.—Gripping in its intensity la the narration by a corporal of French line infantry and published in-The Figaro of an assault on a German trench delivered by his regiment It was the regiment’s first experience under fire, and the writer describes In a most Interesting manner his sensations. “And now we are in the thick of the battle,” he writes. “It is the first time and we are nervous; a bit uncertain and hesitant The bullets seem by crossing their Inflexible trajectories through the trees and into the shrubbery to be weaving an invisible net into which w# hurl ourselves head first, like fish Into a trawl net. “How can one find the opening In the net weaved by those Indefatigable sewing machines, the rapid-fire guns? I am envious of the crocodile and rhinocerous. Never before have I felt myself so vulnerable. “The thought of duty and Of peril .surge together through my mind and I try to think of nothing but the combat. All my section to the left of the wood have fallen Jlat on their faces iff the grass. “It is the section of the Sergeant Major. The men in the grass are firing Incessantly while he Is studying the terrain. Suddenly the Sergeant Major leaps up and turn his face toward me. ‘Cease firing,’ he cries, and dashes for the woods followed by his men. I shout ‘Cease firing, forward!’ and we dash ahead, bent forward, In the narrow spaces through she trees Into the hail of bullets. “A ‘halt’ brings us flat on the ground again. Maurice, the Quartermaster, Is beside me. ‘Hot work, old man,’ he grins. The man next to me drags himself on his elbows, groaning. A red stain appears on his blouse and on the grass beside him. One more dash brings us on the line—a few poor chaps are left stretched out —and we begin methodically emptying our cartridge boxes. The trees re-echo the reports; the wounded are crying; here and there grotesquely sprawling bodies mark the men who have paid the price. “Tired of crawling because I have to do so, I jump to my feet and cry in my turn, ‘Forward!’ Everyone follows me. By my side are the Sergeant Major and another Sergeant. “ ‘Ta, ta, ta, ta, ta, ta’ —the machine guns. We fall to the ground once more. What a sprinkling! To lift one’s head means death. Where is the Quartermaster? He is lying back there, his waxen face upturned. Where is my squad? I do not know any of the men beside me! My piece is so hot it burns my hands. “ ‘Fix bayonets!' The order runs down the line. The bayonets rattle. I tug at mine—l have forgotten how to adjust it! At last my clumsy fingers fix it right. My blood Is beating through my arteries with hammerlike blows. I am hot, my mouth is dry, so dry, and I swallow with difficulty. “Bullets are snipping past the trees. The German guns and our own ‘7s’ are roaring. “My ears are ringing. I cannot hear an order. Every now and then some one swears and drops behind. The wood is filled with the wells of the wounded. Each minute is an eternity. And now I have beside me the Turcos. How did they get there? What torture to be able to see nothing ahead. Will this damnable thicket never end? “ ‘Forward, forward.* And now w# can hear the enemy’s fusillade and through the pauses hoarse voices shouting commands. Our line creeps on, gaining ground always, in the midst of shouts, curses, lamentations, the of the wounded, stumbling now and then over inert bodies from which the iife is pouring out. “‘Ta, ta, ta, ta, ta!’ The machine guns again, and we fall flat once more to get out of the deadly hail of the •coffee mills.’ But some fall limply, mute, without stretching out their arms, and making breaks In the chain. “At last the clearing! Some 40 yards away we can vaguely see the German trenches, fringed with flashes and glittering bayonets. And as we do, we feel ourselves brought up short For a second we hesitate, without even firing, when the cry goes dowqthe line: ‘The wire; the harbed Wire!* “For a width of 20 yards an Impassable weave of wire, fronted by trunks of. chopped-down trees, bars our path, an obstacle against which our foremost men have dashed and are hanging riddled. “Oome back; come back!” the voices shout from all sides. And hack we go, 30 seconds to return over the ground that it took 20 minutes — 20 centuries —to advance over. “And there in our trenches, where our wounded comrades are groaning; drunk with rage, white with emotion and fury, we fire, fire, fire blindly Into that accursed, wood until the commandant himself, bareheaded, comes running up, shouting *Cesse fire! Cease firel* _ _ ■

HOW TO BOIL FRUIT

Royal Bociety Prints Series of Useful Food pamphlets ' The ' Royal' Borocmtnrsl society “la publishing a series of useful short pamphlets dealing with the care of food.. The following are their Instructions for bottling fruit, which is now plentiful and cheap. Choose wide mouthed bottles, and clean them thoroughly. Pick jnst ripe fruit clean and dry. Place in bottles. Apples and pears should be sliced in quarters, plums and damsons put In whole. Fill the bottles with fresh water. Stand them up to their necks In water In a fish kettle or open boiler. The bottles must be open. 81owly raise the water to the boll, and let It boil for twenty minutes or half an hour. Take out the bottles singly, and without the smallest delay tie the mouths with clean bladder whilst the water In the bottles Is at boiling heat. If corks are used Instead of bladders scald them first. Insert them and seal the tops with sealing or bottle wax. Remember to boil the water gradually. Store the bottles In any cool place. Blackberries can be preserved with a smaller quantity of sugar than other fruit. —Tit Bits.

The Greatest Soldier

A little while ago I stood by the grave of the old Napoleon—a magnificent tomb of gilt and gold, fit almost for a dead deity-j-and gazed upon the sarcophagus of rare and nameless marble, where rest at last the ashes of that restless man. I leaned ever the balustrade and thought about the career of the greatest soldier of the modern world. I saw him walking upon the banks of the Seine, contemplating I saw him at Toulon—l saw him putting down the mob in the streets of Par'd —I saw him at the head of the army of Italy—l saw him crossing the bridge of Lodi with the tri-color in his hand — I saw him In Egypt In the shadows of the pyramids—l saw him conquer the Alps and mingle the eagles of France with the eagles of the crags. I saw him at Marengo—at Ulm and Austerlitz. I saw him in Russia, where the Infantry of the snow and the cavalry of the wild blast scattered his legions like winter’s withered leaves. I sqw him at Leipslc In defeat and disaster — driven by a million bayonets hack upon Paris—clutched like a wild beast — banished to Elba. I saw him escape and retake an empire by the force of his genius. I saw him upon the frightful field of Waterloo, where Chance and Fate combined to wreck the fortunes of their former king. And I saw him at St. Helena, with his hands crossed behind him, gazing out upon the sad and solemn sea. I thought of the orphans and widows he had made —of the tears that had been shed for his glory, and of the only woman who ever loved him, pushed from his heart by the cold hand of ambition. And I said I would rather have been a French peasant and worn wooden shoes. I would rather have lived In a hut with a vine growing over the door, and the grapes growing purple in the kisses of the autumn sun. I would rather have been that poor peasant with my loving wife by my side, knitting as the day died out of the sky—l would rather have been that man and gone down to the tongueless dust than to have been that Imperial impersonation of force and murder, known as Napoleon the Great —From Robert G. Ingersoll’e “The Liberty of Man, Women and Child.”

How Eggs Built a Church

Several years ago there was a produce dealer In southern Kansas who handled quantities of eggs. In the same town there was a struggling minister of the gospel trying to build UP his little flock of worshipers into a good-sized congregation. They had a poor little church and no organ or music of any kind except the choir. Times were hard and the young minister was almost discouraged. It was in the early part of March. The grass was green and the hens were laying many eggs, and the produce dealer bought them all. They were very cheap at that time. The dealer had Just made a shipment of three cars to New York City when a fierce blizzard started all over the country, but the eggs managed to get to New York, and the wise dealer ordered them held, knowing that there was bound to be a shortage on account of all the railroads being blockaded with snow. When the price in New York reached 60 cents per dozen he ordered them sold and had for a profit about $14,000. It was easy 1 oney and he presented the entire profit to the little church. Today there Is a large house of worship standing on a hill in the town that was built from the profits of three cars of eggs. “It is an ill wind that blows nobody any good.”

Customs of Betrothal

, There are many curious betrothal customs in Germany that are found in no place else in the world. As soon as a German girl is betrothed she is addressed as “bride” by her fiance. The betrothal Is a more serious affair than in England, and is not so easily broken. Immediately upon the betrothal the lovers exchange rings, which, If the course of true love runs smooth, are to be worn ever afterwards. The woman wears her betrothal ring on the third finger of her left hand untO she is married, and then it is transferred to the third finger of her right hand. The »««" continues to wear his ring Just as the Wife wore hers when she was a bride. —Tit Bits. '«

No man ever lived long enough to do all the things his wife wanted him to dO- , ,r. . ■ -

Shocking the Lady

An American visitor to London, who possessed a vivid imagination, was speaking to An English lady whose knowledge of America Was Tory limited. “I suppose,” the lady remarked, shuddering, “it is common enough over there to see two or three lynching! every day?” “Oh, quite!” the American agreed wearily. “Apd I suppose you have seen people lynched!” she suggested. “Yes, oh, yes!" he assured her brightly. "The last lynching I was at was just before I sailed. I was dining with some friends at a restaurant In New York, when the waiter brought us some pudding that we didn’t like.- After we had tasted it we decided to hang the waiter, so we strung him up to one of the chandeliers.” The lady gazed at him in horror. “And do you mean to tell me,” she gasped, “that you took part in this horrible crime?” “No,” the American replied, "I was not present at the actual hanging.” “You had gone for the police, hope?” she said severely. “Well, not exactly,” the American explained. “I was too busy in the kitchen!” “Busy?” she asked. “Doing what?" “Shooting the cook!” he seriously replied.

The Hand Laundry's Failure

The hungry tramp told his tale. He touched the kind heart of the lady of the house. He ate the food she gave him and started wearily on his way. “And how,” said she, sympathetically, “did the hand laundry you were managing come to fail on you?” He glanced round, it might be as if he suspected the dog were within call. Then, passing out and closing the gate, he said: “She quit and went home to her mother."

A Sure Sign

"Oh, yes, Martha sings In the choir and she has the best voice of anyone in it,” boasted Martha’s aunt, who may not have known much about music, but who certainly knew all about choirs. “Isn’t that boasting just a little?” gently inquired her husband. “No, it ain’t,” retorted Martha’s Mint. “I know she’s the best singer in the lot, because no one else in the choir will speak to her!” -

Easily Recognized

“This,” remarked the simple-looking young man, “is my photograph with my two French poodles. You recognize me, eh?” “I think so,” said Mrs. Cayenne. “You are the one with the hat on, are you not?”

Couldn't Believe It

“I was outspoken in my sentiments at the club this afternoon,” said Mrs. Garrulous to her husband the other evening. With a look of astonishment he replied: "I can’t believe it, my dear. Who outspoke you?”

MAKING A STIR.

Crabshaw—What do you want a new skirt for, my dear? The one you have looks all right. Mrs. Crabshaw —It might do for ordinary wear, but not for Sunday. Unless a silk is new it doesn’t rustle as you walk up the aisle.

A Backwoods Product

Mrs. de Style—l never saw snch a countrified thing as that Mrs. Neighbor. Mr. de Style—What’s the matter with her? Mrs. de Style—She always dresses according to the weather.

Pat's Load

Mike —Hello, Pat. Phwat be ye workin' at now? Pat (with a hod of bricks on his shoulder)— Kape away from fuminst thot ladder. Ol’m carryin’ knockout drops.

A Sweet Girl

"She is dearer to me than ever.” "Keeping up with the price of sugar, eh?”

Ail It Means

Miss Romance—When an opal, a present from one we dearly love, loses its lustre, what is it a sign of? Mr. Hardhead (in the jewelry line) It’s a sign that the opal has split.

Bridget's Mistake

"Now, see here, Bridget, did you shake well before taking this medicine, aa.it says on the bottle?” *Sure, mum, I should say so; 1 had a-chill. I did.” .

The Charm of a Low Veice

Everyone know* how disagreeable high-pitched, shrieking voice* mo and how charming low, sweet odm, and, considering this, one wonders that more attention la not gfivea to, the auhject from an Educational point es Tlew. **■' ' Americana ahve often been adopted, of haring dlaagreeable voices, and It can not but be admlted that aoma-, times the accusation seems true. The Yankee twang and the naeel drawi pe* collar to many of our communities are certainly not ths loveliest intonations. On the other hand, there are as beau ttful voices to be found right here In America as In the Latin countries, where a soft accent la the rule, not the exception. But the trouble So there are not enough of these beautiful voices. There could be easily enough If only the American woman would take the time and the trouble to cultt-' rate a pleasing quality In her speaking tones. The other day three women were discussing a recent debutante, who, despite lack of great good looks, was carrying all before her In the world of society. "What 1 like Is her voice," said a man of the party; "it reminds me of a purring cat." His simile was correct.’ Her voice was very low pitched and came Yrom the hack of her throat In a soft, husky sound, and its fascination was undeni* able. Take Sarah Bernhardt, for Instance. The divine sarah earned her title of the greatest living actress ss much from the pure, silvery quality of her voice as from her histrionic powers. This star of the theatrical firmament possesses a speaking voice to dream about, full, sweet, liquid, and one feels one could never tire of listening to her golden words. How great Is the power of the human voice to displease ae well as to please was discovered the other day by a girl Who was suffering froth a bad cold. “I have just made the unpleasant discovery,” she confided to a friend, "that at the present moment I am not wanted by an/ of the members of my family, and do you know why? Because r have a wretched cdld that has turned my voice Into a hoarse croak. It Is not a sniffy cold, and they are not in the least afraid of catching It It Is simply my tones which annoy them. Within the last two days I have been asked quite politely If I Would mind not talking, as my .voice gets on their nerves, and quite Impolitely to ‘quit your and by a mare male.” i All wlm ~ ailed elocution or gone in for a profession where the voice plays an important part learn the art of epeaklng at the right pitch and pronouncing their words correctly, and it would be afi Immense advantage if elocution lessons were, made an important part of the education of every young girl. , La Rochefoucauld says: "There Is more eloquence in the tones of the voice than In the choice of words." And, indeed, he proclaims an absolute truth. A charming story of a speaking voice was told the other day—a voice 1 that could not be bought for gold. It belonged te a hard-working little servant girl, a chambermaid la a great house, whose voice was so marvelously sweet as to provoke comment by all who heard her speak. Her mistress particularly admired the quality, and one day sent for the girt' to come and speak to the teacher who was giving the daughters of the house lessons in elocution. "There," she said, want you to teach my daughter to apeak Ilka' that.” 1 “Alas, madam," the teacher responded sadly, "that is impossible.' No man can teach that. Those are neither chest nor throat notes; they come from the heart." i Voices that are naturally harsh, me-, tallic or nasal can be greatly proved by private stuffr. Speaking ami ercises at the piano are a wonderful help. | Not only la It difficult to speak properly, but it Is even more difficult to whisper correctly. A whisper Is often merely a husky croak or quite inaudible. The secret of a clear whisper! is to drop the voice as low as possible and to speak with the lips, the lip movement helping to convey nearly as much as the actual sound.

The Strength of Shrapnel

Shrapnel, says the American Machinist, is really a flying cannon, which shoots its charge while in flight or explodes on contact Its speed of 600,000 feet per second is produced by a pressure of from 30,000 to 36,000 lbs. per square inch from the powder that expels it from the gun. Its bursting charge exerts a pressure of from 80,000 to 26,000 pounds per square Inch. The metal of its ease has a tensilo strength of 186,000 pounds to the square Inch and an elastic limit of 110,000 pounds per square Inch.

Color Fish with Chemicals

Striking results are said to have been obtained In coloring lire flsh artificially to suit the fancies of esthetio admirers of the piscatorial race. This follows the example of floriculturists, who, by means of chemicals, have caased roses, carnations and violets to take cm many bisarre hues, the experiments with fish have been carried on in Sicily, carp being used for the most part. Fiat chalk, iron and peat are introduced Into the water where the flsh are kept, and then they receive another chemical bath containing iron and tin.

Bacon—“l gave my wife a rainbow hire when I left home this morning.” Egbert— " What la toe world is a ralpbow kisar gsaott r -“One that follows a storm.”