Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 168, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 17 July 1915 — Page 2

THE PERFECT CURE

By DONALD BLAIR.

Mrs. Sargent patted the silk coverlet in a helpless sort of way and followed the physician into the hall, where she faced him with sorrowful eyes. “Can’t you do anything for the girl, doctor?’’ she whispered. He shook his head. "Not without her help, Mrs. Sargent," he said gravely. "If she had the slightest desire to get better —•” he paused tentatively. “That wretched affair with Ralph Dearing—l can speak freely to you, Doctor Lane, because you know all about ft! Of course, no one outside Of the family knew that they were engaged, ahd Elsie was saved that humiliation, but the shock of his jilting her and the sudden announcement of his marriage to Barbara Kent were too much for the child's sensitive soul. Who can blame her if she has no desire to live?” “Pooh —fiddlesticks!’’ sniffed the bluff doctor, patting Mrs. Sargent on a plump shoulder. "Elsie is young and this is her first love affair it must not be her last; it is our duty to see to that—yes, yours and mine! Before she grieves herself out of the world, you and I, Mrs. Sargent, must endeavor to create a new interest for her— something to make her want to live forever." “What can we do?” asked Elsie’s mother. “I have an idea which I will explain later, and now, good afternoon —and don’t worry!” Early the next morning Mrs. Sargent came into Elsie's sickroom with a troubled face. “Dearie, you are to have a new doctor today,” she announced when the nurse had left the room. “Doctor Lane haw been called to New York and young Doctor Phelps is taking care of his practice. I hope you don't mind.’ Elsie shook her golden head. She didn't mind anything any more not since that awful day when Ralph had called her on the telephone and nervously announced that he had just married Barbara Kent; that she must not mind; he wasn't worth bothering about, anyway. In view of his behavior this last remark was entirely superfluous, but Elsie did mind. She ha 4 just swooned away in the library, and for weeks the doctor and her devoted family had tried to keep her from drifting away into eternity. “It doesn't matter, mother," she whispered, and turned her face to the wall.

At two o’clock that afternoon Doctor Phelps made his first call at the Sargent’s pretty home. He sat down at the bedside, scanned the nurse's report and nodded approval. Then he lifted Elsie’s white little hand and laid his strong, warm fingers on the feeble pulse. Meanwhile he regarded the pale face on the pillow with a queer expression in his cool, gray eyes. The nurse had care that Elsie should look charming. Miss Whelan was middle-aged and still romantic, which might have explained why she had put her patient into her frilliest dressing sacque and her daintiest lace cap. The blue ribbons were no bluer than Elsie’s pathetic eyes. The doctor realized that when the dark lashes lifted and disclosed them. “Feeling better, eh?” breezed Doctor Phelps. Elsie’s eyes widened ever so slightly. She shook her head. ”1 feel about as usual,” she murmured. She didn’t close her eyes again because she was interested in the vision of a tall, broad-shouldered young man, black haired and gray eyed, with suntanned face and hands, who was wearing white flannels. A tennis racquet ■yuH tossed on a chair beside his w hite felt hat. “You don’t look a bit like a doctor!” she said, to her own amazement. “You don’t look a bit like a sick girl,” retorted Doctor Phelps, cheerfully. Elsie was interested. “But I am ill,” she protested. “I am very, very ill —and you ought to know it. Doctor Phelps,” with growing petulence. “That’s the trouble — I don’t see much the matter with you, save that you’re too tired to sit up and eat a lot of nourishing things—and to go down to the club and hold your reputation in the singles—” Elsie sat up In bed, a rose pink waving in her cheeks. “Tennis singles?" she repeated. “Who is entered for the match? Not Myra Hatfield?” The doctor nodded. “Miss Hatfield hnn strong hopes of taking the cup from you. I’m downright sorry, too, Miss Sargent, for they tell me you play a corking game. I'll have to test that heart action.” After he had applied the stethoscope he replaced it in its case and looked very cheerful. “Heart’s all right, Miss Sargent Don’t worry. Miss Hatfield may not carry off the cup after all." “She wouldn’t have a ghost of a chance if I could only get out,” was Elsie’s confident answer. “When does the match come off, Doctor Phelps? Pre lost all track of time.” “Not for eight weeks.” “I wonder—do you think if lam very, very careful t! at I might be well enough to play?* she asked wisttally. “Do you want to?”

“Do I?” She smiled adorably. “Then you can —that’s all there la to it. You can do anything you like If you only want to hard enough. Think that over, Miss Sargent.” He held her hand in his warm clasp for a moment, smiled down into her eyes, picked up his hat and racquet and disappeared with the nurse into the hall. Elsie gated after him, conscious of an acute pang of jealousy that Myra Hatfield could play tennis with Doctor Phelps while she, the woman champion of her club, had to lie tn bed. A sudden terror smote her that she might die after all. She had so earnestly prayed for death In those first horrible days. “Oh, I don't want to die!” she cried suddenly. And Miss Whelan ran back to hold her hands and assure her that the doctor had promised Mrs. Sargent that Elsie would be running around the garden in a fortnight. “And you know doctors don’t make rash promises. Miss Elsie,’’ admonished Miss Whelan kindly. *T am so glad," said Elsie quietly. Then, “What is that?" she asked as the purring of a motor fell on the summer air “That’s the doctor’s car. He’s going down to the club now,” said the nurse as she lifted Elsie to a sitting posture so that she could see the vista of straight road that ran past the house. “You can just see it skimming along now." Elsie looked eagerly at the small, shining car, was amazed at her sense of relief that the doctor was riding alone, and actually blushed because her heart beat faster at the thought of his coming visit the next day. When the little car had disappeared Elsie laid her head on her ruffled pillow and went to sleep with a smile touching her pink lips. The acute Miss Wheland winked at her own reflection In the mirror.

Mrs. Sargent came in and kissed her child’s peaceful face and cried a little on the nurse's broad shoulder. Then she sat down at the bedside while Miss Whelan went out and sent this telegram to Doctor Lane, in New York city: “Working finely. Don’t come home yet!” The next day Elsie was sitting in the window when the doctor arrived. They talked tennis for half an hour and Elsie declared that she felt worlds better and w’anted to talk longer, but the doctor was as wise as he was enthusiastic. and, again sporting his tennis flannels, he went on to the club. Inside of a week Elsie Sargent was downstairs and within the promised fortnight she was rather slowly trying out a new racquet in the tennis court in the Sargent grounds. It was a whole month before Doctor Phelps would permit her to ride down to the clubhouse with him in the shining lit? tie car, and he felt quite as triumphant as Elsie at the tennis match when Miss Sargent still held her place as champion. Mrs. Sargent wept a few tears when she tried to thank Doctor Lane for her child’s life. •’Tut—tut —thank Phelps, if he will let you," he interrupted. “I had hopes, for he is the best fellow In the world, but I hadn’t the slightest idea that everything would come out so well and that—well. Flora Sargent,” said the doctor, with a sudden tenderness in his tones as he laid his hands on the little widow’s shoulders, “if you are truly grateful, promise me one thing.” “Anything you like, Dick.” “Then, if Elsie marries Bert Phelps will you marry me?” “Yes —she won’t need me then.” “Very well, Flora; consider yourself as good as engaged to me!” he said, putting his arm around her. “Look!” Through the window they saw Elsie and the young doctor walking in the garden below. Suddenly they paused and Elsie looked up into Phelps’ compelling eyes. “See?” asked Doctor Lane tenderly. “Yes.” said Mrs. Sargent contentedly. “The cure is perfect” (Copyright, 1915, by the McClure Newspaper Syndicate.)

STREETS THAT ARE CANYONS

Some Thoroughfares of Manhattan Are the Most Highly Congested in the World. Many of the highly congested streets of lower Manhattan meanwhile have a beauty, or at least an impressiveness, peculiarly their own. It is only when one of these canyons is isolated from its surroundings by a photograph that the effect of mass may be fully appreciated. An effect of startling novelty may be had by standing in the middle of one of these streets and looking directly upward. The perspective from this point of view still further exaggerates their height or rather depth. In the Middle Ages it was common to build houses with each floor projecting out beyond the line of the floor below until the cornices of the roofs on either side of the street all but touched. The effect of looking skyward from the middle of a modern New York street is much the same. The sun never penetrates to the pavement at the foot of some of these canyons, which are, therefore in perpetual half shadow, like the bottom of a deep well. The population housed in these buildings is doubtless greater in proportion to the street width than in any other city in the world. It has been estimated that if all the occupants of these office buildings were to leave at the same time they/ would have to stand ten deep in ths street in places. ///v:

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER, IND.

SLUGGERS ARE GOOD AT TRAP SHOOTING

Joe Jackson! The name Inspires the shivers in American league pitchers; it inspires enthusiasm in the American league fan. “Some sweet hitter, that boy," says the fan. When Connie Mack first plucked Joe from the bushes, he wasn’t exactly a green lemon, but he wasn’t ripe for high baseball society. As I recall it, he had two faults; he didn’t wear socks and he was troubled with homesickness, says a writer in an exchange. I do not think Connie would have fired him because of his dislike for hose, but an attack of homesickness caused him to desert, and a deserter is looked upon with about the same favor in big league baseball as he is in the army. After Joe recovered from Bakeritis (new name for aversion to wandering from one’s own fireside), he spent a season in New Orleans, where he made Southern league pitchers’ life so miserable they induced Mr. Somers to yank Joe back into the American league again, and Cleveland has domiciled the sockless sockdolager ever since. He “has. been about half the Cleveland team the last two years; the other half wears socks, doesn’t get homesick and is very do-

BASEBALL STORIES

Zach Wheat’s batting is far below the usual mark. • • • Myers of the Dodgers has developed into a great outfielder. • • • Connie Mack may need pitchers, but he needs about 100,000 fans more. • • • The International league race is getting to be a jam and even Toronto has hopes. * * * George McConnell, the former pitcher of the Yankees, is going well with the Chicago Feds. • • • Dazzy Vance is another Pittsburgh discard who is proving a bear in the Western league again. • « • Buck Herzog can always be depended upon to put up a brilliantly dashing and aggressive game. • • • John Lindsay, recently released by Memphis, has joined the Bloomington team of the Three-1 league. • * • Omaha has released Pitcher Ralph Willis. He pitched good ball last year but could not get started this season. * • • Seeing America is a good idea, but Connie Mack and John McGraw don’t think much of the view from last place. Up to date we have not heard from President Tener in regard to his prediction that this would be the banner year for baseball • • • Dick Egan, secured by the Braves from the Dodgers to cover second base in the absence of Evers, has disappointed Boston fans. Clarence Rowland already has won a title. He is the Beau Brummel of the major league managers, a distinction belonging tq Billy Evans among the arbitrators. • • • There is one team in the National league followers are overlooking. That is the Brooklyn team. It is filled with hard hitters, any one of whom is likely to break up a game.

cile and inoffensive to the other seven clubs in the league. It takes a keen eye and steady nerves to run second to the wonderful Ty Cobb for league batting honors. Joe Jackson has done that several times. There’s a reason. Joe says: “Next to baseball, give me a shotgun. In the field or at the traps, I find great enjoyment in its use." Get the idea, Mr. Wood B. Slugger? It doesn’t pay for a ball player to allow his eye to become dim and his nerves unstrung by a winter of idleness. Shooting keeps eyes in trim, nerves taut, muscles firm. ' Ty Cobb is a trapshooter, and a good one; so is Speaker. Chief Ben. der won his own game recently with a two-base biff; he spent most of his spare time all last winter trapshooting. Bender is some shooter, too. Got 25 straight one time and 22 is easy for him. If the world’s series winners will invest some of their easy money this f”ll in shotguns and will use them throughout the winter, I’ll bet on them to repeat next year. I’ll also bet Joe Jackson is the only trapshooter on the Cleveland team.

SCHEME OF GARRY HERRMANN

Chairman of National Baseball Commission Would Reduce Expenses of Big League Clubs. Garry Hermann, president of the Reds, and chairman of the National Baseball commission, believes the time has come for the money men in baseball to watch their step. Herrmann predicted the other day that big league baseball clubs, with one or two exceptions, cannot continue paying present high salaries to

Garry Herrmann.

players, and that many long-term contract holders face the alternative of accepting reduced salaries, or seeing their club reach the position where it cannot pay its salary obligations. Herrmann said he favored cutting down club rosters wherever possible, and creating a “reserve list" of players to be drawn upon by the owners or managers whenever it might become necessary to fill vacancies caused by sickness, injury or release.

Charley Jackson Is Wanted.

Scouts for the Pittsburgh club are trying to land Charley Jackson of the Bloomington club, who is doing great work in left field.

VETERAN IS RELEASED

Bobby Wallace Was Oldest Active Player in Major Leagues. Let Out by St Louis Browns as He Was Entering Twenty-First Year In Fast Company—Always Popular With the Fans. Baseball lost one of its most popular idols when Robert J. Wallace, shortstop of the St. Louis Browns, was given his unconditional release. Wallace was the oldest active baseball player in the major leagues. He was entering this year on his twenty-sec-ond season as a professional player and his twenty-first as a major leaguer. Had it not been for the baseball ■war and business conditions which have hit the sport hard, Bobby Wallace probably would have been carried by the Browns the remainder of the season, or, at least, until a berth as a minor league manager could be found for him. The necessity of cutting down, however, left Hedges little alternative but to let Wallace go at once. Wallace, in his day, was considered by many critics to be the premier shortstop of baseball. He had a wonderful arm, and his ability to throw from any position and at almost any distance from short probably was unexcelled. It was with Cleveland, in the old National league, that Wallace broke into big league baseball, 1895, and his most noteworthy feat was a throw in the final series between Cleveland and the Browns, in 1908, which cost his old teammates the flag. It was the third out in the ninth inning. A hit would have won for the Naps. Lajoie drove a sharp grounder over second. Wallace

Bobby Wallace.

got the ball with his left hand on the dead run and, without stopping to set himself, threw Lajoie out at first, ending the game, which cost Cleveland the -flag. *• Wallace always was popular, even in 1910, when, as manager of the Browns, he was a failure. This season, whenever he was in the game, he received a greater hand than any other player in St. Louis. Wallace was born in Pittsburgh, November 4, 1874. He began his professional career at Franklin, Pa., in 1894.

Matty Through Years Ago.

Christy Mathewson was “through” as a major league pitcher thirteen years ago. If you don’t believe it, read what was printed in Sporting Life in the fall of 1901: “Danny” Green, of the Chicago White Sox, who was out on a barnstorming trip with Christy Mathewson, the Giants’ youngster, declares that he is afraid the” use of a snap in delivering curves may have given the New York twirler a permanent injury. “All he could do was to lob them over,” said Green. To this Clark Griffith added this safe reflection: “If Mathewson loses his ability to pitch it will be an exemplification of the old saying that a pitcher with speed is foolish to use curves.”

Team of Veterans.

Wonder if this team of old men wpuld finish last in any league? Mathewson, pitcher; Gibson, catcher; Hummel, first; Lajoie, second; Wagner, short; Wallace, third; Gravath, left; Leach, center, and Crawford, right.

Successful Manager.

Clark Griffith, the “Old Fox," says, to be successful.'a major league manar ger must have the knack of patting a player on the back or bawling him out and getting results. He must be a student of human nature, says Griff.

Peevish Over Name.

Shortstop Halt of the Tip Tops, whose name was spelled “Holt’* throughout the circuit during the early part of the spring, has converted the scribes to the correct method of spelling his handle.

Home Town Helps

GARDENS IN LARGE CITIES No Reason Why Certain Difficulties Shrould Not Easily Be Overcome, With Proper Thought. There are a few things that must be provided if Omaha is to become famous for its gardens, and it is to be hoped that the agricultural expert who is coming here will attend to them, says the Omaha World-Herald. There would be fnany more gardens if there were some central agency established where men too busy to attend to all the work could call by telephone and get a reliable man when one is needed. The charity organizations have been relied upin, but the men who seek work through them are often inefficient and'unreliable. One business man said: “I have quite a large bit of ground in my back yard that I would like to put in a garden, but I cannot take a day off to spade it up and prepare the ground for the seed. I would be glad to plant the seed and care for the ground afterward. Last year I tried getting a man and after much worry got one. He was unreliable and the work that he did was hardly worth the time looking after him, so this year I have concluded to seed it down and avoid that sort of worry.”

The plan for children is good and should be boosted by every one, but a large number of gardens would be planted where there are no children if there were a place where the right kind of help could be secured. Lawns would be kept in better condition if a man could be called by telephone when a mower was out of order or needed sharpening and when bulbs and shrubbery were to be planted. Omaha gardens and beautiful lawns would add very much to the city in the satisfaction of citizens and visitors and to the value of property. It might be a good policy for some of the civic organizations to undertake to supply this want by establishing such a central agency. There is no doubs that it would be a paying enterprise.

FLOWERS IN CONCRETE WALLS

Monotony of Driveway Relieved by Device of Designer Who Gave Thought to Subject. In designing a residence driveway which was to be cut through a terrace, a builder avoided the monotony of having two long concrete retaining walls flanking either side by breaking them at Intervals with semicircular niches in which plants could be placed. These spaces were made so that they broke what otherwise would have been the straight line of the two copings. Each was made about 3 feet in depth and 2 feet wide and given the same finish as the exterior walls. Concrete jardinieres were made for the plants which were set in the spaces.—Popular Mechanics.

Making the Town Worth Living In.

The following, from the pen of Judge Nelson Case of Oswego, applies to any Kansas town: “Taxes paid for good roads, for libraries and schools, for any improvement which adds to the comfort, the enlightenment, the* happiness of a people, are among the most valuable investments a person can make, even though he cannot see that he has any direct interest in them. The most prosperous cities are those whose inhabitants have the most advantages for education, religious culture, recreation and such amusements and diversions as are elevating in their tendencies, and are free from demoralizing Influences. Kansas City is a fine example of this spirit and policy. It is what her citizens have done to make the city beautiful and a desirable place in which to live, fully as much as her direct efforts to secure trade, that has given her the prestige she enjoys.”—Kansas City Star.

Manuring the Soil.

In garden making the first essential is a heavy laybr of barnyard manure placed on the surface and then turned under as deeply as it is possible to get it. If a lot has to be filled three or four feet in depth, it should first be covered with two feet of barnyird manure, on top of which should be placed two feet of good soil. When all has been settled by the rains of one winter we will have a garden “as is a garden.” This illustration is used merely to show where manure should be placed if it be possible to get it there. A garden so filled in would grow roses and other flowering shruba that would prove little short of marvelous.

Cut the Weeds and Grass.

Whether you ate a renter or an owner, you should not permit grass and weeds' to “take” the sidewalk. Flies and mosquitoes bred in the tangled grass of a home owner are just as annoying and poisonous as those that are brought to life on the rented premises. And the blow to civic beauty is as severe in the one Instance as in the other. Don’t be a drawback to comfort, health and civic beauty, which is to say, don’t let weeds and grass encumber the sidewalk of the place that yon call home. —Corsicana Sun.