Evening Republican, Volume 20, Number 61, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 11 March 1916 — Page 2

CAP and BELLS

GABRIEL TOOK HIS MEASURE Suppliant at Pearly. Gates Had Not Played Summer Baseball, But Lied to Attendance Committee. The scene was that usual finale to earthly existence at which St. Peter passes upon those whose aviatory proclivities have progressed to the stage inhere they are suppliants for wings. An individual approaches the pearly gates. “Age, color and previous condition of servitude?" demanded St. Peter. “Twenty-two, white —I was a student at Ann Arbor.” “Humph!” muttered St. Peter, and forthwith dispatched a night letter to his satanic majesty, whereat the imps prepared for another collegiate celebration. “Have you never sinned?" inquired the saint. “Once,” came the confession. “Oh! so you played summer baseball?” snapped the heavenly guardian. “No. I lie<f to the attendance committee.” St. Peter' looked at the suppliant sternly. “Step right up, young man, while Gabriel measures you for wings.”—Michigan Gargoyle.

And It Came to Pass.

Meeks —By the way, old man, do you believe in dreams? Weeks—You bet I do. .One night about a month ago I dreamed an angel came to my bedside and said: “Prepare for the worst.” Meeks—Well? Weeks—The next day our cook left and my wife has done the coqking ever since.

More So.

“She always' dresses like a fashion plate,” we say, referring to the lady who, though stout, is nevertheless charming. “Do you think so?” murmurs her bosom friend, sw r eetly. “Now, I should say she was more like a fashion platter.” —Judge.

Point of View.

White —I understand young Green lost all the money his father left him on the races, and he’s now looking for a job. He won’t have such a soft thing as formerly. Brown —Oh. I don’t know; he’ll continue to have a soft thing as long as he doesn’t lose his mind.

Study in Sacrifice.

"Would you sacrifice your principles for the sake of an office! ” ...» "i suppose not.” replied Senator Sorghum. “And yet when you smother your principles you stand a chance of reviving them after you get the office. It seems too bad to sacrifice both.”

NOT IN SOCIETY.

“What a peculiar-acting child that ‘Tea. You Bee it was raised by ita own mother."

Human Paradox.

Hammand —Since Walker Tighs inherited SSO 000 he is a paradox. _ Kgglet— Hqw’ii that? Hammand —He’s one of the richest and also one of the poorest actors on the boards.

Did He Want an Exception?

Head of Vestry—lt will be your duty to toll the bell, take care of the furnace and blow the organ. 'New Sexton 'Hare I got'to listen to all of the sermons), sir?—Judge.

New They Don’t Speak.

Miss Screecher—When I'm asked to Sing I don't say, "No, I can't sing." but I Just sit down at the piano and — Miss Caustique —And let the company find it out themselves.

INTELLECTUAL WORK OF BOY

Proud Father Wanted Son to Grow Up Brain Worker Instead of Cotton Picker and Swamp CrovsL__ “Well, liffeie Ephraim,” said the colonel on his morning stroll past the negro quarters, "what evah became o’ that pert youngster of yours whom ye decorated with the thoughtful name of Aristotle?” “Ah, dat boy? Aristotle?" the proud father chuckled, “Aristotle ain’t hyar no more. He done gone out Into the wide wol’ to make his fortune.” “Sho’ ’nough," replied the colonel, “and if my recollection is right we christened him with an intellectual name because you said you wanted that Tsoy to grow up a brain worker instead of a po' cotton picker and rail splitter.” “Yesseh,” replied the old negro proudly. “I didn’t raise that boy to be a swamp crow like some o’ de rest of us.” “Well, tell me, Uncle Ephraim,” the marse asked with kindly curiosity, “is he Intellectual; is he engaged in brain work?" “Yes, Marse Peyton, he am engaged in what I reckon you-all would call intellectual labors; leastways his job calls for clever head work, nothin’ but head work.” “What’s his calling?” “He's travelin’ with a side show, sticking his noodle through a hole in the canvas foh the people to throw eggs at, three throws for a jitney, and he sure has to do some lively headwork to keep that big cocoanut of his-from getting busted up into a whole lot o’ little filberts,’’—Judge.

There Is a Substitute.

“Great Scott,” said Dingley Bell. “It says here in this paper that bromides have gone up from 35 cents to $5.50 a pound.” “Oh, well, what of It?” said Bildad. “The Congressional Record is free. Let sufferers from sleeplessness read that instead^’ —

HER GAIN.

“Does your husband remember your wedding anniversary ?” “No; so I remind him of it in January and June, and get two presents.”

Those Queer Men.

Mrs. Exe—l never have a bit of trouble with my husband over the matter of dress. Mrs. Wye —I do wij;h mine. When I get a gown that he likes he doesn’t like the bill, and when the bill sultß him he doesn’t care for the gown.

Valued the Dog.

Mrs. Youngwedd—And how long must you be away, dearest? Vmingwp.dd—-About two weeks. Mts. Y.—Well, I think I’ll learn, id cook while you are absent. ... Y. —That’s a good idea. And I’ll take the dog over and leave him with one of the neighbors.

Somewhat Different.

“Before marriage,” said the bachelor, “every man has a theory about managing a wife.” “Yes,” rejoined the widower; “but after marriage he finds it is a condition and not a theory that confronts him." '

Airy Quarters.

Wife—d hate those cramped berths in the sleeper. Couldn’t we get a flat, dear?. Hub—Who ever heard of a flat on a Wife—Why, I’ ve often heard of flat cars. - - ■■■:: —:

Hardly That.

Pat —Be yez th’ gintleman thot adyertSriM~raT“tfi’"Ti^^rT6F“¥TP®!f^: sor? Merchant—Yes; but I stated that all applications must be made by mail. Pat —B’gorry, an’ is it a female Oi’m afther lookin' loik?

Willing to Help.

“All I need is a thousand dollars to make us both rich,” said the flashilydressed caller. “Good! ” exclaimed his prospective victim. "Let’s you and I go out and see if we can’t borrow it somewhere."

Nothing to Worry About.

Thin Thurston—DS reason you’re so fat is dat you eat all de time an' don’t worry enuf. Fat Fagin—But, if I kin git some ; pin to eat reg*l&r, how kin I worry, wot?

Museum Muses.

Manager—What do you think of the rough house that “The Bearded Woman” created last night? The Skeleton—l’m surprised. , I always thought he was a perfect lads.

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER, IND.

“SENORITA” BROWN

By HERMANCE WOODS.

It was In Professor Alonso's “Spanish In Twenty Lessons"-, class that Tom Edgeviteod first met her. Tom was learning the Castilian tongue because It was part of his scheme of personal advancement to become a member of the South American agency of the concern for which he worked. But when Tom asked the girl why Bhe was giving her time to the twenty lessons she smiled charmingly and replied: “Why shouldn’t I? One has to do something. “Then have you nothing else to do?” There were several ambitious young stenographers in the class and Tom thought perhaps she, too, was learning the language for business purposes. “No, nothing much," she answered. “One can’t play bridge and dance all the time. Oh, I do go in for suffrage a little, and, of course, there are things to do at home, but I find Spanish very diverting.” There had already been fifteen lessons of the course, and although Tom had never been able to find out the girl’s name except that the professor called her “Senorita Brown," he had as a matter of fact become, as he thought, fairly well acquainted. At the seventeenth lesson, he had summoned courage sufficient to linger after elaBS with her and beg the privilege of calling on her, but she merely laughed archly and asked him why he wanted to see her outside of class. She didn’t exactly discourage him. She gave him permission, in fact* but she did not tell him where she lived and Tom’s courage vanished before he had asked her for her address. „ —- But Tom had —for some reason that he couldn’t readily explain to his own satisfaction at the time —given the girl a much better idea of his own activities. In fact, he confided to her, a« hp had confided in no one else, the

ambition that was leading him to seek a career in Spanish-America. This all took place before and after Professor Alonso’s lessons, and as the girl always arrived early and did not seem to be inclined to cut the after-lesson talks short, Tom felt that she at least found a passing interest in him. “I’d awfully like to know you better,” he told her one day —It was the nineteenth lesson in the series. “I have wanted to call, but you didn’t seem to want me to.” “But I said you might if you cared to.” “And then you wouldn’t tell me where you lived. In the meantime, I have told you everything about myself, my plans and ambitions. There Is a lot I would like-fto talk to you about. We might eveh air our Spanish a little. I happen to have the afternoon off. Won’t you come with me to luncheon —anywhere you say—and let me have a chance to know you a little better?”

“I should like to so much,” she said with regret, “although of course, it would be dreadfully unconventional, but I am afraid I can’t. I am going to be busy; in fact, I mustn’t stop a minute after class. I really ought not to have come to class at all this morning.” • Tom pleaded a little. “I didn’t want to tell you,” she explained, “but I am busy this afternoon with the suffrage parade.” Here Tom recalled later that he saw her flush ever so slightly. “No particular reason why you shouldn’t want to tell me that, is there? You don’t imagine, do you, that I am one of those sentimentalists who fpel a prejudice against having women at the polls or in a suffrage parade if they choose to be there? I am sorry, of course, if that is what keeps you from lunching with me. But go ahead, little lady, and do your best. If I were a suffrage organization I wouldn’t want to miss having you in the line, I’m sure. And perhaps you will go with me some other time.”

“Promise one thing,” she asked as they parted. “Promise you won’t watch the parade this afternoon.’’ “I wonT gbffPtuteiy promise ,’-hesaid, “but I will try to resist the temptation of seeing you again this afternoon.” The next meeting of the Spanish class was the last in the series. Tom EflgeWood"waa-~te~b4a. plane at the -jiimariinin and Bowaathgyoung woman wbose next to his. But in Tom's grreeting there was a note of distance and none of the usual cheerful caffieraderie. He looked intently ather,withal6bktbatwa»€alculated to show her his displeasure, but the young woman, apparently, did not read his meaning. _. _ _ After clash, she hesitated for her usual exchange of pleasantries. Why didn’t he urge again for permission to call. Why didn’t he say anything about the postponed luncheon engagement? “We had a wonderful crowd out for the parade,” she said as an attempt to evade personalities, but this seemed to touch a sore point with Tom. “Yes," he said, averting her look, and then said no more. Aa there seemed to be no more conversation? the girl started out of the room, and after two or three minutes Tom followed her. She had waited for him ~ln the hall and they took the same elevator to the entrancerof the building. “You are very cool,”, she said, as she joined him on his way out. “Not cool, Senorita Brown,” he said, with a forced laugh and an emphasis on the senorita. “I am really rather gUd that I didn’t follow your inatruc-

tion to stay away from the parade, for now I can apologize for my rudeness in asking you to take luncheon with me and in pressing you for the permission to call. You will 1 accept my apologies, won’t you?’ “Apologies—why apologize? What did the parade have to do with that?" And then she stopped and looked in amazement at him. “Do you think I am married? Is that it?” “1 don't know what else to think. Why else, in the name of common sense, would you be trundling a baby carriage along the street for three miles with the banner floating over your head, ‘We, the Mothers, Demand the Vote,’ and a lot of other similar mottoes? It was a very pretty sight and as Impressive a plea for suffrage as I have ever witnessed, but you can see how I was a trifle surprised. Why don’t you ask Professor Alonso to call you senora Instead of senorita?” “I’m not married, though,” she insisted. “Oh, I want to explain to you, but it is a long story. Perhaps you will come with me how to make that call?" “Better go to luncheon with me, if you are quite sure that no Jealous husbamj ,will interfere. Still there is a deep mystery to solve.” Ten minutes later, Tom and Barbara Brown —for that was the girl’s name —were seated tete-a-tete at a table in Barbara's favorite lunching place.

“Now, I shall proceed to explain,” she began, talking across the softly lighted table. “You know I asked you not to come. I was afraid that something would happen so that - I wouldn’t want you to he there. I hurried down to headquarters where the line of march started just as soon as I left you. Well, I had planned to march in the young unmarried women’s section —dressed In flowing white robes, carrying all sorts of pretty banners. One of the sections that had been counted on most was to be the mothers’ section, with a lot of young mothers pushing their precious babies in baby carriages. Well, about an hour and a half before starting time the chairman of the committee m charge of the parade learned that while there were to be some four or five hundred girls in the unmarried women’s brigade there were only Just about ten In the mothers’ section. “I heard of the trouble an<f, being on the committee, I figured that something had to be done and that I was the one to do it. We had got to .have some babies and some.,baby car- ■ riages and some mothers. Well, 1 went to the brigade of young unmarried women, who were already beginning to assemble, and picked out some of the best sports in the crowd and told them what I was going to do. Then I went to the department’store on the opposite corner. 1 happened to know one of the members nf the company—friend of dad’s. I found him in and told him that we wanted tc borrow fifty baby carriages of as sorted designs and we’d got to have them delivered within an hour. He staggered a little, but I told him we wouldn’t hurt them for future sales and If we did dad would stand the damage. So he agreed.

“Then the question was where to find the babies. I got the fifty girls that were willing to go in for it, and we all went uptown to the foundling asylum. The matron is a suffragist, thank fortune. I told her to let us have fifty of her sturdiest young orphans right away, thank you. She was a little nervous about it —said she might get into trouble with the authorities if they heard about it, but I asured her that if she lost her job there dad—he is Congressman Brown, you know 1 -—would get her something betteiTttrdo. We did look pretty impressive, didn’t we? I am sure we got more cheers than any other section, and’ the papers all gave us a big w'rite-up, and said a lot about the pluck of the little suffrage mothers who went through the long march. Well, that’s how it happened,” Barbara concluded. Tom gave a mighty sight of relief. “It certainly is mighty comforting tc know that you are senorita after all, he said. (Copyright, 1916; by the McClure Newspa, u per Syndicate.)

Ridiculous Superstitions.

Numerous curious and .ridiculous superstitions as to methods of preventing disease were believed in years ago,, and are not altogether extinct even today. Much ancient faith clustered tbe root, which was carved in the form of a doll, dressed in fine clothes, and kept in a box or coffin concealed in some corner of the house. Each month it was washed in “winelina" water a*Hl~fceshly ..garbed! . .Another universal cure was to carry a piece of mistletoe which had been cut from a tree by a golden sickle and caught in a white ves&el as it fell. Matn.l scraped from a church bell or a piece of the rope was supposed to have a similar protective influence against disease, as also a cloth stained in the blood of a murderer, or the rope with which he was hanged.

Handicapped.

Budding Young Orator —I wish there was somewhere in the house I could deliver my speech. Wife—No, my dear; you know very well that the last three cooks have left because they thpught I was harboring a lunatic.—-Judge.

Psychologists Meet.

“Did you seize the psychological moment for selling that man some life insurance?’’ demanded the efficiency expert of the shebang. “N 6 unluckily the psycho logical, moment to escape.”—Judge.

HANDICRAFT FOR BOYS AND GIRLS

By A. NEELY HALL and DOROTHY PERKINS

HOMES FOR BIRDS. It Is every one’s duty to look to the protection of our rapidly disappearing birds, and I want every reader of thiß article to put up at least one nesting box this spring in some place “Secure from catß anfi rtber“bird enemies^—— Tin cans, flower pots, boxes—l could name a hundred pick-up materials that can be used. The house In Fig. 1 requires a tomato can. Cut a wooden disk to fit snugly in the opened end of the can (Fig. 2), and bore a hole through it for a doorway—seveneighths inch in diameter for a wren house, or one and one-half inches in diameter for a bluebird house. Fasten the disk in the end of the can with short nails. Then make a canopy out of a piece of tin of the shape shown in Fig. 3, and fasten it over the doorway. The double apartment bird house in Fig. 4 -is a suggestion for utilizing

flower-pots. Get two pots of equal size. The bottom holes must be large enough for doorways, and can be enlarged with a file or by chipping away the flower-pot. Cut a square 'plece ot board-a trifie larger than the pots, to fasten the pots to (Fig“ 4), then A 'ass a loop of wire around each pot, making the loop large enough so it can be twisted in four places into straps (A, Fig 5). ___■ The mouth of a varnish can Is a splendid opening for a bird house doorway, as you can readily seai>r the house shown in Fig. 6. Any painter will give you an empty can. Remove the bottom (Fig. 7), cut a block of

wood to lit in this open end (A, Fig. 8), nail this block to the side of a long pole support (B) about one-sixteenth Inch below the top, and fit the varnish can over this block. For a roof, nail one end of a short board to the top of post B (C, Fig. 8). Pierce a hole through eacn side of the can, and in block for a short nail, to hold the varnish can in place (Fig. 8). The wooden house in Fig. 9 is simpler to construct than tho illustration might lead you to suppose. Cut end pieces A and B (Fig. 10) eight inches square, and roof boards C and D 12 inches wide—C 11 inches long and D enough shorter to allow for the lapping of <5 over the edge of D (Fig. 11). Nail C and D, then nail the two to end "A", allowing a projection of

2 inches. Do not nail the roof to end B, because that end Ib to be removable to provide for cleaning the tpside of the bouse. Cut E and F (Fig. 11) six inches Jong, and, nail boards with their ends, even with the corners of end A- Then cut the floor board G with beveled edges to slide between E and F (Fig. 10). Cut the perch stick H to fit between tnds A and B, and fasten It with tcrewn. , «

i’trwmmmmmmmm urnummmmmmm (Copyright, hr A. Neely HUJU

A DOLL BWING AND A DOLL HAMMOCK. For the doll swing (Fig. 1), you need four sticks about'24 inches lon* for the supports, a pieco 10 inches long for the top crosspiece, and a pintsize fruit box. —>- If you can get four straight pieces of tree branches they will do nicely for the supports. Figures 2 and 3 show how the cherry box is converted into the swing seat.

Slip the top edge of one sido of the box from the tin binding by which the box is held together (Fig. 2), fold the side over *on to the inside of the box bottom, and glue or sew it to the bottom (Fig. 3). The doll hammock (Fig. 4) Is made of string. You will need a board 24 inches, long and 12 Inches wide on which to f °r*n hammock network

(A, Fig. 6). Drive a row of Lails into the boards close to one end, about one inch apart, then take a stick and drive a row of nails into it at the same distances apart (B, Fig. 6). Stick B is held to board A, by means of a pair of heavy rubber bands looped over • pair of nails C driven into board A, and over the end nails In strip B. With board A and strip B thus prepared, take the string, tie one end to one end nail in strip B, and loop - back and forth from one row of nails to the other, as shown in Fig. 5. Cut up 100- —or more very short pieces of string. Then, beginning about one inch from the row of nails in board A, catch the strands to — gether, two by two, and tie with the pieces of string. Tie hard, secure knots. With one row of knots tied, make a second row one inch away from the first, picking the pairs of

strands that will n.ake the knot* come halfway between those of the first row. Then make a third row one inch from the second row, with the knots in line with those of the first row, a fourth row one inch from the third row in line with the second, and so on until stick B Is reached. As the strands are tied they will become shorter, and this shortening will be taken care of by the rubber bands, which will allow stick B to slide llonOoard A. as sbown In Fl„-. «. With the strands knotted, remove the loops from one row of nails and slip them over a short stick (Fig. T). Then tie together the opposite loops, as shown in Fig. 8. Suspend the hammock between two stakes, as Indies!* ed in Fig. 4, . >, ;