Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 186, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 7 August 1915 — Page 2

THAT MALACCA BUG

By JUSTINE NELTNOR.

"Good-by to my dream of dreams!" sighed Vance Edison, sadly. He stood at the window of the plain house he called home. Its bewildering attachment was the radiant garden. There the captivating scene fascinated his vision. A lovely girl of nineteen sat on a rustic bench between a golden-haired little maid of four and a rosy-cheeked lad two years her senior. The little ones were adjusting a wreath made up of pansies and forgetmenots across her rare flaxen hair —a happy, laughing trio, and yet It made Vance Edison's heart ache, for in the combination lay his distraction. The young lady was Nella Burt, the daughter of a widow, his next-door neighbor. Both she and her invalid mother had found a true friend in the young college professor. His life was very simple and humble, yet bright and merry were the hours they spent in the garden that was the pride and glory of the place. Then the father of the two children came along. He was an uncle of Edison, a sea-faring man. He had been compelled to give up his ship on account of failing health. He had taken his motherless children from an asylum where they had been placed. He had come to Edison’s home, carried on a litter.

“Dear boy," he said, bluff and hearty, but his voice woefully piping and thin, *Tve brought my chests, the children and myself to the only relative 1 can claim in the world. I’m a dying man —three months more the doctor gives me. I’ve a little saved. Tomorrow I shall give It to you. I want you to adopt the little ones, educate them, be a father to them when I am gone, and take it a little more easy yourself.” Alas! before another sunrise a seizure attacked the old salt. The little ones were left orphaned. Vance Edison cared for them tenderly. He said nothing to anybody concerning a disappointment he sustained during the week after the funeral. Anxiety for the children caused it. As for himself, Vance Edison was too soulfully unselfish to covet riches. Aside from a few curiosisties that he had gathered up in his travels, the chest his uncle had brought with him contained nothing of value. The old salt’s wealth must have been a phantasy, Edison decided. Then he set himself to work to block out the

"Where on Earth Did You Get a Malacca Finder?”

future. He found that the added expense of the two children would take all the surplus he could earn, unless his college salary was increased. This particular afternoon, as he watched his lovely neighbor with the two little ones his spirits sank low, indeed. He loved her with a fervor he dared rarely contemplate. Before his uncle had come he had more than once decided to tell Nella of his affection. He knew that she respected him, looked up to him. He hoped she returned his love. But now! — Before, he could have offered her a fairly comfortable home. With the additional burden of the children, however, how could he ask this lovely girl to help him share their care, and economize himself down to a humdrum life and the bare necessities of existence? No! “Good-by to my dream of dreams!” he repeated mournfully, and fell into a reverie wondering if some new field of professional activity might not offer better recompense. “Shoo —shoo!” suddenly aroused him. Nella uttered the somewhat startling cries. She had sprang from the aide of the children, nearly upsetting them. Edison saw her run up to the vines that half covered the side of the house. She was wielding a fan as a weapon. There was the flutter of a "bright winged bird driven into sudden flight Then Nella was down on her knees; Edison saw her lift a small squirming object from the ground. ! “Poor thing!” Nella cooed in her sweet sympathetic tones. “The naughty bird nearly caught you. Oh, what a rare little beauty!” His curiosity and Interest aroused, Edison hurried to* the front door, and thence into the garden. "What is it?” he asked, and Nella showed a beetle-shaped bug lying in the palm of her hand. It was an unfamiliar specimen to Edison, profound entomologist as he was. The bird had

slightly pecked It, and the little creak ture was partly disabled. •'I can’t imagine where it came from,” observed Edison.

“Do you notice that it hl. of a bright bronze?’’ suggested Nella. “Can’t you mend it up? Perhaps it is suffering." “We will try," smiled Edison readily.” "It is a rarity. I should like to study and classify it Certainly it is a stranger to this country," and he took it into his library, poured some healing oil upon its shattered wing, and made a soft cotton nest for it which he placed Under an open globe.

Sorrowful as Vance Edison was over his money prospects and consequently those of love, he was cheered at seeing more of Nella than ever. The little ones clung to her constantly. The bronse bug became a positive institution with the family group. It seemed as though it had a mind to appreciate kindness and recognize Its friends. As It was nursed back to normal strength it refused to leave the house, even the room. It became domesticated in a sort of playhouse that Edison constructed for it, more for the gratification of the children than anything else. There was a tiny trough for bathing, a swing, a diminutive step ladder. To all these novelties the strange insect accommodated Itself. For hours Nella and her two child proteges would watch the glossy bug. One day an old messmate of the dead sailor called upon Edison. “Just to talk over the best friend he ever had," was the way he put it. He brought some gifts for the two little orphans. He chanced to see the bug. “Shiver me!” he exclaimed noisily. “Where on earth did you get a Ma» lacca finder?” “You know what It is?” interrupted Edison eagerly. “Why surely,” replied the old salt, “for they’re thick as bees In Malacca. They get their name from going after other insects bold and pushing, ferreting them out of all kinds of queer cracks and crannies. They are credited with a very acute sense of smell. Why, say, this specimen must have been imported here in some of your uncle’s old truck.”

Apparently this was true, for when the beetle was first discovered it had probably crawled on to the window to the attic where the chest and other belongings of the dead sailor were stored. The visitor departed two days later. A week after that the bronze bug was missing. Little Ralph came rushing down the stairs one morning all excitement. “In the attic!” he announced breathlessly. “I saw him —the bug, crawling out of one of those big idols.” All hands hurried to the attic. There were a number of grotesque wood, glass and plaster idols among the curiosities taken from the uncle’s chest. Ralph pointed to one on a shelf. “There! there!” he insisted. Edison lifted down the idol. Sure enough, out crawled the lost bronze bug. Edison placed the idol on a stand. In his excitement little Ralph ran up against it, tipped the Jdol and it was broken into bits upon the floor. But among the fragments was a small silk purse. Within it was the fortune the dead uncle had boasted of—diamonds! And now the future was provided for, and through the kindly offices of the bronze bug Vance found a speedy way to the heart of the girl he loved. (Copyright. 1915, by W. G. Chapman.)

WAS A PERTINENT QUESTION

And la One Still Unanswered By Those to Whom It Is Frequently Put.

Until recent years the~Roumanlan was suspicious of his wealthy and powerful countrymen. There is a story of how the boyars or nobles started a movement in 1857 to gain the confidence of the peasants by summoning representatives from all parts of the country. One of the nobles was selected to explain to the peasants the value of united effort, but he had difficulty in making them understand. Finally he said to an old man who was acting as spokesman for the peasants: “You see that stone? Bring it to me.” The man tried to lift it, but failed. The noble directed another man to go to the asistance of the first. The two tugged at the stone, but were unable to move it. A third peasant, then a fourth, and finally a fifth was sent to their aid, and by combined effort*the stone was lifted. Said the noble: “In union there is strength”—or words to that effect. The old peasant, however, was not satisfied. After a moment he asked the noble: “Why didn’t you help with the stone?”

Woman’s Original Plan.

An unusual course of reading was devised by an original woman to while away the tedium of convalescence. She determined to look up every unfamiliar word that she met in the first book she read, to read up on every subject mentioned of which she was ignorant, and to read every book whose title might appear in the book she was reading. Though she began with an ordinary light novel, one of the maligned “best sellers,” it led her into several months of most interesting reading that covered a range of delightful, unexpected subjects.— Woman's Home Companion.

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER, IND-

Land of Cheap Living

FROM Elsinore, in Denmark, the haunt of Hamlet's ghost, it is but three miles across the sound to Helsingborg, Sweden, and here one is in the land of pickled fish, cold meats and the notorious Swedish punch. These are the principal regalements, but there are many others. Sweden may not be widely famed as an epicure’s land, but for variety and cheapness of food and individuality In cookery it offers successive surprises to the stranger. Though so near and accessible to the continent, Sweden is little known to the gastronome. It is a country much neglected by the tourist. Yet with its wonderful stretch of territory, reaching through 14 degrees of latitude, from as far south as Hull, England, for 1,000 miles northward, far up into the polar regions, no country offers a wider range of dietary or a more interesting field of gastronomic exploration.

The Lapland express on the northernmost railroad in the world makes the 900-mile jump from Stockholm to Narvik, 100 miles beyond the polar circle, in 40 hours. At Narvik, which is on the Atlantic coast of Norway, this road connecting the grain fields of the south with the ice fields of the North makes steamboat connection with regions still farther remote —the North cape, the Lofoden islands and Trondhjem.

Abundant Game.

Many kinds of fine water fowl are supplied by the lakes and rivers, including wild ducks, geese, snipe and occasionally,the wild swan. The sheltered coasts of the Baltic and the Gulf of Bothnia are the resort of immense flocks of sea fowl. From the woods' and plains are obtained many feathered creatures, such as the woodcock, the blackcock, the orre and other kinds of grouse. The elk furnishes the finest sport of all, however, 1,500 of them being shot every year. From the far North is brought down the snow-white ptarmigan, which is the Arctic grouse, and the jet black capercailzie, the finest game on wing. From the polar regions the Lapps send down the Arctic goose and the meat of elk and reindeer, the wonderful reindeer cheese and the hardfleshed salmon from the northern rivers. These and other of the best salmon called graflax, are eaten raw on the best tables, being considered too dainty a morsel to spoil with fire. They are served with oil, vinegar, pepper and a sauce of sweet herbs.

Cereals and Fruits.

The southern lands produce a variety of cereals, garden produce, fruits, and here are located some of the principal food industries. Great quantities of grain are exported from Helsingborg. The country grows delicious apples and pears and a wonderful variety of small berries, which when cooked into sauces go well with the game dishes. To know how well the gooseberry can be made to taste, it is necessary to go to Sweden. Cloud berries, too, are among the national dishes. They are a delightfully flavored, amber colored fruit, a species of raspberry. Cranberries are as plentiful as in America. So are the cherries, and the Swedes excel in their preparation. Oatmeal is as much of a staple in Sweden as in Scotland. It is eaten in all sections of the country and by all classes.

Oats is the main cereal crop of the country. Next in quantity and first in importance, perhaps, is rye, for this forms the principal breadstuff. Barley ranks third in order and is cultivated in all parts of the country except the extreme North. The wheat production is less than half that of barley and one-tenth that of oats. The national bread is made in the form of a large, round cake, from one to three feet in diameter, about as thick as a plate and nearly as hard. It is called flat bread. Considerable interest In live stock raising is being shown just now, and some good beef is being grown in the

VIEW OF STOCKHOLM

central and southern sections. Dairy interests have made phenomenal progress. Butter enough to supply the enormous home industry and large quantities for export is produced. Nettle soup is an epicurean novelty served at the Continental restaurants in Stockholm. It Is made from tender young nettles. A Land of Fish, -

Sweden is a land of fish. Trout and grayling are caught in every mountain stream. Sardines, herring, crayfish, oysters, clams, crabs and an almost endless number of other water foods contribute to the dietary. No less than eighty -kinds of fresh and salt water fish are sold in the markets of Gothenburg. Turbot and ling are taken in considerable quantities. The Swedes first gave to the world fish balls. They taught us how to prepare boneless codfish, and they have added more than any other nation to the knowledge of pickling and curing fish.

Stewing is the most popular manner of cooking fresh fish, and stewed fish are found everywhere. A palatable dish is made of salmon baked in a small dish with creamed potatoes, onions, eggs and other ingredients and called Lax Lada.

But the principal fish of Sweden is the herring. Fresh, smoked * and pickled it is eaten from one end of tflto land to the other. Sweden is the original land of pork and beans. And, strange to say, Upsala, the intellectual center of Sweden, is the headquarters for the best grade of the baked product. "Beware the Swedish punch!" This is the advice commonly given to every man starting on his first visit to Sweden. But even with the warning he is liable to fall a victim to it, for this strange drink is as seductive as it is potent. The Swedes imbibe it fearlessly, but its effects on the uninitiated are sad.

The Romans possessed an inferior sort of candle which was made of strings of papyrus or rush dipped in pitch and surrounded with wax. But candles in perfection were not made until a much later period, and Alfred the Great of England has the credit of being the inventor of the horn shield for the flame, and consequently of the “lant-horn.”

One proof of their value is the fact that previous to the invention of the Argand burner, in 1784, lamps had entirely fallen out of use, a glance at the prints of that period being sufficient to convince one that candles reigned supreme not only in the houses of the people, but in the churches and in all other places of pnblic assembly. In such places there was an official whose sole duty it was to pass round armed with a pair of snuffers and an extinguisher on the end of a long stick, attending to the requirements of such of his flaring rods of tallow or wax as needed his attention.

Candle-making -at that time also formed a part of the education of every housewife, and the candle box was to be found in every household.

Hartley Coleridge, the English author, was decidedly unconventional. It was he who stole a joint of meat from Wordsworth’s larder for fun. Once he was asked to dine with the family of a stiff Presbyterian clergyman residing in the Lake district. The guests, Trappist fashion, sat a long time in the drawing room waiting for the announcement of dinner. Not a word was uttered, and Hartley was bored to extinction. At last he suddenly jumped up from the sofa, kissed the clergyman’s wife, and rushed out of* the house. Tennyson thought him "a lovable little fellow," and no doubt enjoyed his departure from propriety, as ne did the reply of the coachman who, asked what sort of place Winchester was, replied: “Debauched, sir, debauched, like all other cathedral cities."

The Day of the Candle.

Unconventional Briton.

PUTS THE INTELLECT FIRST

Educator Assort* That It* TrairUng I* of Mor* Importance Than la “• That of th* Body.

Commenting on the theory, now bo popular, that educator* should concentrate on the training of hands rather than the training of minds, if the young persons of our land are to grow into -useful men and women, Mary Leal Harkness, writing in the Atlantic, gives it as her opinion that “It is a tremendous fallacy that the possessor of only the trained hand can hope with any well-founded confidence to be included in that desirable company which is both interesting and interested. -~

“If you could persuade every woman to sweep a floor properly, I doubt much if she could still be guaranteed an agreeable companion for a rainy Sunday,” continues the writer. " “If you could teach every ‘white wing* in any city to remove the dirt of the streets in the most dustless and sanitary manner known to science, I still question whether you would wish him to come to your library an evening of uplifting conversation. And he would be equally lacking in resources for self-entertainment in his unemployed hours. “If there is anything beneath the stars more pitiable than the elderly man or woman with no intellectual resources from which to draw occupation and Interest, I have not yet seen it. On the other hand, there is nothing which so effectively robs the prospect of old age of its terrors as the sight of the scholarly wearer of whitened hair which crowns a head still vigorous and young through the happy preservative agency of a trained and much-used intellect.

“No mechanical process can guarantee to us an interesting life, or insure us against boredom. But just because it is something more than a mechanical process a college education of the right sort comes nearer doing this than any other agency we know —certainly nearer than any drill in cow-milking or scientific cooking. Its value to us and to the future of our country is beyond estimation. If the time ever comes when ‘vital’ is taken to be synonymous with ‘lucrative;’ when the life of the mind and the training of the mind are set below those of the body; when intelligence, as a means to a full and satisfying life, is superseded by prophylaxis and hygiene —then we may well wish that we had listened to a wiser teacher.”

Servant Problem Solved.

Just to show how lucky are those parts of France which the Germans have overrun with fire and sword, an ingenious German press agent has invented the following story, the scene of which is laid in what is left of a once smiling village in the north of France. A worthy dame whose house has survived the gunnery practice of the kaiser’s artillerymen—possibly because of its remoteness from the quaint old village church, now a heap of ruins—is talking to another of her species, presumably equally fortunate in having a roof over her graying head.

“You’ve no notion,” says the first dame, “how clean and in what perfect order everything is in our house. I never in all my born days saw the place so spic and span.” The second dame nods to show her natural and proper interest in this bit of housewifely gossip. “I’m so glad, my dear?’ says she, “that at last you’ve got a really good servant” “Servant!" exclaims the first dame with Gallic vivacity. “Who said servant? It’s the dear German soldiers that’s billeted in the house. They done the cleaning!”—New York Eve, ning Post

Guncotton as Bait.

A part of the equipment of some cavalrymen just returned to France from a few days’ furlough in England is a fishing-rod and several varieties of floats. But there are others whq prefer to fish for the pot in more sudden and ruthless manner. Their method is very different. They operate in those parts of the, canals where roach and dace are thought—not always with reason —to be numerous. The final attack, as in all modern aggressive operations, is opened by the expenditure of explosives. But in this case the expenditure is not great. A small wad of guncotton neatly exploded under water is enough to account for all the fish within a considerable radius; and a few moments after the discharge the undersides of the roach and dace appear fin the surface. The idea was suggested by the accidental havoc wrought among the fish bya certain Jack Johnson.

The Lion of St Mark’s.

The famous winged Lion of St. Mark, symbol of the old Venetian republic, which was endangered by the Austrian air attack on the city of the lagoons, is one of the most composite monuments in existence. It is of bronze with eyes of white agates—though Venetians tell you they are diamonds —and it is believed to have ornamented some ancient Assyrian palace before it came to Venice and was raised on the top of a column in the Square of St Mark. The whole figure, as it now stands, belongs to many epochs, renovated again and again, and the only portion of the original animal remaining is the bead —except the crown—and part of the body. When last renovated in 1891 the whole lion was found to be a mass of disconnected fragments bound together with iron bands.

HEED CALI TO REST

Vacation From the Arduous Duty of the Pulpit Is an Imperative Need. Upon the advent of the clergymen’* vacation season it is timely to call to their attention the disuse into which nature themes for pulpit employment have fallen during the past sew years. A decade ago the minister went upon his vacation prompted by that hunger and thirst after the sweet and quiet meditations of nature places_ that has always been the source of truest idealizing in pulpit deliverances. Today the field of social reform and the kinds of service that find expression in organized form and by insistent appeals, have quite supplanted the green pastures and the still waters. The Sons of Boanerges have taken the place of the shepherd singer of Israel. The interpreter of the lilies, the divine advocate of beauty in nature forms has been set aside by the wielder of the whip of small cords. The woman sweeping her house for the piece of silver has usurped the place in the pulpit of seeker after the lost sheep. Matching metal against metal, the pulpit sounds at times like a boiler factory by reason of the tapping of the hammers of denunciation upon the bessemerized materialism of the day. One feels like taking up the? longing of the psalmist for a lodge in some vast wilderness. When will the men who regard themselves as having a mission to manifest their superficial ingenuity in dealing with the passing fashions of the times give place to the men of lesser public mold but of vaster sympathies and basic intelligence, who would lead the wearied hosts of the daily battle, for bread out into the mount of refreshment where the Master is declaring that men shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God. When will they turn again to the construction of the Scriptures and extol such provision as that which points to the young lions lacking and suffering hunger in contrast with the provident care of God, which gives assurance that they that trust him shall not lack any good thing. When will they lead their flocks in the shepherded ways of meditation upon the things of. nature, pointing to the cattle upon the thousand hills to declare unto the poor in this world’s goods that these are ail possessions of their heavenly father? Majestic Nature. How wonderfully placid is nature! How marvelously serene its representations, how beneficent its' changing moods; what contrast and light and uplift come from meditation upon this age-old book that has been the source of all true devotion; of all worthy idealization, of all responses to the true things of melody, of all creative faculty for art depiction, of all the true science of gracious and good living. Nature echoes the voice of its Maker, who says he will keep in perfect peace all whose minds are stayed upon him. Where will the ministers go upon their vacations? Some will go where the newer laws of social regeneration are being declared in assemblies for study and for instruction. Others willgo where the masses of men teem in the thronged places of recreation resort, in order to see how their fellows deport themselves and to observe the glaring contrasts in human conditions; yet others will go to work amid the slums of congested cities; others again will enter the libraries and pursue some favorite line of study, from which they hope to produce yet another of the panacea books of the writing of which there is no end and the reading of which brings weariness to the flesh. Getting Back to Real Things. Happy the true scholar, the real idealist, the wide-visioned pastor, the man who looks beyond the murk of the day and who sees the clear Shining of God in the smiling beauty of an orchid. Blessed that clergyman who learns new litanies from the brook and new offices from the interlaced and waving branches Of the trees; thrice blessed is that leader of a wellinstructed congregation who claims nature unsullied as his companion and who seeks in vacation absorption, garnished with a few suitable books, and perhaps a rod and line, the communion with nature that alone can bring clarification of view, enrichment of nature and serenity in all times of pressure from the little things of living. Let the clergymen get back to nature and let them bring nature back into the pulpit.

Living in God.

Childlikeness, in its Scriptural sense, is a perfectness of trust, a resting in a Father’s love, a being -Dome on in its power, living in it — it means a simplicity which resolves all into the one idea of lowly-submis-siveness td one in whom it lives; a buoyancy of spirit, which is a fountain of joy in itself, always ready to spring forth afresh brightly and happily to meet the claims of the present hour, not looking lingeringly back to the past, nor making plans, independently, as of oneself, for the future; a resting contentment in one's lot, whatever that lot may be; a singleness of intention; a pliancy, a yielding of the will, a forgetfulness of self in another’s claims. To be thus childlike in the pure sense of such an ideal, is to be living in God, as one's Father, one’s Preserver, one’s Guide, felt to-be a perpetual Presence and Providence.—Carter.