Evening Republican, Volume 20, Number 146, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 19 June 1916 — Page 3

The Ride to Shiloh

By GEORGE MUNSON

(Copyright, 1916. by W. G. Chapman.) “Hello, boys! Which of you'll bitch up the dogs and take Miss Arline into Shiloh?" The lumbermen stopped dancing. Half a dozen turned to look at the speaker. He was the camp cook. They sprang forward, not understanding, but eager for the chance. Arline was the only child of Joe Bohner, the boss of a big section on the Northern claim, and now 50 miles away in the woods. Arline was the adored of all the lumbermen, jnpst of whom dreamed of the time when they could ask her to marry them. Big Jim O’Grady, Lean Mike, little Bienalme, the Frenchman, all loved Arline. She had flirted with each of them as only a girl of 18 can flirt; but none of them knew who was the favored one. —,—. Each, including little Blenaime, was sure that it could not be Blenaime. Only the day before Arline had sent the boy away with a long face when he dared to remind her of a promised dance. She had sneered at his size in the presence of the others; and they had laughed at him. “It’s—it’s smallpox!”’explained the cook in a terrified whisper. Every man halted. The dread disease was epidemic around them in half a dozen camps, but so far this one had escaped. All loved Arline,

Huddled Over the Stove.

but Nobody was going to drive 30 miles with an infected girl in a dogsleigh. Little Bienaime came forward. He was shaking and as white as a sheet, but he came forward. “I will take her,” he said, and was conscious that, though the music had started again, nobody was paying any attention to it. “Don’t be a fool, Bienaime," said Big Jim and Lean Mike together. “Want to die, hey?” “I go if I die,” said Bienaime. He went out in the direction of the boss’ shack. He knocked, and receiving no answer, went in, to find Arline huddled over the stove, the fear of death* on her face, where the signs of the dread disease were already evident. “What do you want?” she asked, looking up at him. “I take you to Shiloh, to the doctor,” answered the little Frenchman. "Keep back, you fool. Haven’t you more sense?” demanded the girl bitterly. "I reckon you don’t want to die, do you?” ” * “I take you to Shiloh,” repeated the Frenchman obstinately. “Keep back! What about the other boys? Wouldn’t they come? I thought,” she gulped, “maybe Big Jim would take me. He ought to, heaven knows.” Blenaime’s heart leaped. So it was Big Jim she loved. Then he gritted his teeth. “I’m glad it is Big Jim and not me," he said, “because now it —it won’t matter.” He told her to wait while he harnessed his dogs. Presently the sleigh came along the trail, the beasts pulling with a will. “Whoa!” shouted Bienaime, and as they lay down in the snow he entered the shack again. The girl was still huddled over the stove. “Come!” said Bienaime. She stared at him. “You mean it, Francois?” she cried. “Wouldn’t—wouldn't anybody else come?” Francois Bienaime evaded that question. "My luck," he said. “I was first on the spot". “They wouldn’t come!” she exclaimed. "You don’t mean you’re going to drive 30 miles, sitting at my side, Francois? Why, it’ll be sure death to you. They say if you take it in the open it’s sure to kill. Best leave me here. Maybe I’ll get well. I don’t feel so bad.” "Alas,” said Bienaime, “it is no use. I am exposed now.' I may as well take you.” *. x The girl considered. Yes, that was true. He had eiposed himself already

to the contagion; be could not go back to the lumber camp. "All right. But don’t get too near me," she said, rising. Nevertheless Blenaime bundled her up in the shawl, wrapped her in a pair of blankets and took her tn his arms and carried her to the sleigh. He placed her there, nestling snugly among the robes. "Mush!" he said, and the dogs started. They raced along the trail. At the bend Bienalme, looking back, saw the crowd from the dance hall looking after them. He felt his heart leap up in exaltation. “Mush!" he shouted, leaping into the sleigh. The dogs ran on. Blenaime sat in the sleigh beside his beloved. And the weary miles began to be told off. “I wonder if I’ll die," mused the girl. "I don’t feel very sick." “No fear of dying," said little Bienalme. “I can’t let you die, Miss Arline. It would mean too much to Big Jim, I guess.” He was not conscious of the curious face she turned on him. He was beginning to freeze, for he had given her all the robes. It was not cold, even for March, but ten above zero is cold enough for a night journey, even for a lumberman. He stood upon the tailing log at the back of the sleigh, shouting to the dogs as they raced into the road, 12 miles from camp, that led toward Shiloh. Every time he rested the dogs he went to look at Arline, but always her eyes were closed, and he did not dare to speak to her. The hours wore on. Morning came, and they were still five miles from Shiloh. He aroused Arline at the last stopping. “You are better," he said with conviction.. The girl stared at him as if she did not know what had occurred. Then her eyes brightened. "I thought—you were Big Jim,” she gasped. So they rode into Shiloh. The sleigh drew up outside the doctor's house and Blenaime descended, carrying Arline in his arms. The doctor’s face appeared at the window; he came to the door. “What is it?” he asked. “Smallpox,” said Blenaime briefly. "Bring her in,” said the doctor. Blenaime waited in the cold. He was shivering, and he knew he was doomed; nevertheless he was glad he had done Big Jim a good turn. Presently the doctor came out; his eyes were angry, but his mouth was twitching. “You’ve come on a long journey. It wasn’t necessary,” he said. "But the smallpox, Doctor!" “Measles, my son,” said the doctor, laying his hand on his arm. “I’ll take charge of her for a day or two till she’s better. Sure you can come in and see her.” Bienalme went in to find the girl seated in the doctor’s chair. She sprang to her feet and stretched out her arms. “Francois!” she sobbed. “It is well, then —it is nothing. You did what none of them dared to do. How can I reward you?” Suddenly Francois knew. “Ah t Mademoiselle Arline," he stammered, “if you—if you—” The doctor’s hand fell on his shoulder. “The priest will be here in a couple of days,” he said gruffly. “He’s got the best remedy for both of you.”

Wily Old Lady.

The special noticed a chimney on fire. Reluctantly he went to the house and drew out his notebook. When he knocked at the door an old lady came. “Sorry, but your chimney is on fire. I shall have to report it Name and address, please.” “How many more are coming? You’re the third. You can’t be summoned three times over, can you?” The specialist apologized and departed. When he reached the station he told his misadventure to the inspector. “Then you didn’t take the name and address?” » “No.” “I’m afraid they’ve done you. It’s a very old wheeze to say that there’s been a policeman taking their name and address already. Next time take the name, no matter if they say a hundred have been there already.” The special blushed as he thought of his courteous apologies to the wily old lady.—Manchester Guardian.

Remembered the Meal,

A lawyer was examining a Scottish farmer. “You that when this happened you were going home to a meal. Let us be quite certain on this point, because it is a very important one. Be good enough to tell me, sir, with as little prevarication as possible, what meal it was you were going home to.” “You would like to know what meal it was?” said the Scotsman. * "Yes, sir; I should like to know,” replied the counsel, sternly and impressively. “Be sure you tell the truth.” “Weel, then, It was just oatmeal!"

His Opening.

His Wise —I see that a celebrated physician says that women require more sleep than men. Rounder—Does he? Then you’d better not wait up for me tonight, my dear. —Boston Evening Transcript

Angular Art

“Ah, In springtime I suppose an artist like you wanders out to admire the ■ cowslips and the violets.’’ ( “Ssh, I’m a cubist Just now the thing to admire Is a pile of bricks.”— Louisville Courier Journal.

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER, IND.

FEEDING ARMY IN MEXICO IS GIGANTIC TASK

Motor Trains and Mule Wagons Deliver Vast Stock of Supplies at Front. USE OPEN AIR KITCHENS Stores Form Village Which la Bustling Place —Order la Soon Brought Out of Chaoa—Army Makes New Roads as It Moves Forward. By JUNIUS B. WOOD. (Correspondent of the Chicago Dally News.) In the game of hide and seek between Villa and the American forces there is the Important factor of “eats." There is considerable difference between the needs of Villa, who is “it,” and our soldier boys, who are doing the hunting. Just for comparison, it is: Villa’s'day supply—A roll of tortillas and a few scraps of meat picked up off the country. Punitive expedition Rations for men, 22,750 pounds, and 148,800 pounds a day for horses and mules packed over a 350-mile line. Make Roads as They Go. Even* in the Civil war, American army officers say that keeping open such a long line of supply communications was unusual. The record has never been even approached in this country. More than that, the line of communication, just like building a new railroad, has been perfected as the army moved forward. That means much more than leveling roads and stringing, culverts over once impassable ditches and river beds. It means supplying rolling stock and equipment and organizing a force of men to man the supply trains and bases. It was a big job, but it has been accomplished by the army officers in the quartermaster’s department and is now working smoothly. It has been said so many times that everybody believes it, that the American army fights on a full stomach. That is not a fair statement. Several days at the start of this campaign the stomachs of men and horses were not full, but they did not relax the manhunt either under the broiling sun by day or the freezing blasts by night. The alm of the officers is that the army shall have full stomachs, but, sometimes, there are insurmountable difficulties in filling them when a cavalry column is dashing forward at a rate of 60 miles a day, and all the army has is slow-moving mule trains to carry supplies for the several thousand men and horses. • Motor Train Is Innovation. Carrying supplies by high-powered motor trucks was started for the first time in America in the present campaign. The aviation section had its trucks and there were half a dozen in the ordnance branch. The army started before any other trucks had left the factories. They finally arrived in Columbus on long trains of flat cars in groups of 27 from factories in different parts of the country. The first that were rushed to the base were stripped chassis. The army mechanics worked all night and the next morning regulation army wagon boxes had been mounted on them and they were loaded and started for the front. Now seven trains of 27 trucks each are in operation and eventually the number will be Increased to more than 300. Mule Trains Are Feature. The trucks are not the only means of transport. There are three trains of 28 wagons each, with four mules to each wagon. Sometimes they are run together and a mule team train with Its shouting driver —"mule skinners,” as they are called—and the dusty guard

WIFE OF GEN. TOWNSHEND

Mrs. Townshend, wife of General Townshend who was captured at Kul-el-Amara by the Turks, photographed at her country place at Norfolk, England, with her favorite horse.

SHELTERS FOR TROOPS IN MEXICO

American soldiers in Mexico building shelters of brush and adobe tor protection against the winds and sun.

of soldiers with loaded rifles will stretch along for nearly a mile. After the mule teams come the pack mules. There are six trains of these, each of 62 mules. Up in the mountains, where motors and teams cannot go, wind the long pack trains, somber, plodding mules wisely following a leader, from whose neck hangs a clanging cowbell. The mule takes his work philosophically. After he has plodded all day and the pack is removed he first lies down and rolls over and over again, kicking the air hilariously like a baby on its back, then, with a succession of snorts, he jumps up and runs away until he finds a place to graze, and a swearing pack driver brings him back several hours later. _ The division quartermaster, Capt Lawrence D. Cabell, who has figures at his finger ends, says that for every three men in the field there is one man in the rear or on the road attending to the supplies. One-fourth of the army is caring for the other three-fourths. That shows that feeding an army is a big task. That fourth also does not include the mess crews who have stoves built and "chow” cooking 15 minutes after camp is reached, ovens built, with bread and cake baking a day later, and in a few days fully equipped open-air kitchens, protected by windbreaks of brush and crude dining tables for officers. The Mexican army has no commissary. Villa Ragged and Worn. The little comparison of what Villa needs every day holds for his entire bandit band, for each man gets or tries to get his own and his horse’s supply. As to the American army, the comparison shows only' a part of what must be transported in the way of supplies. It includes only the bare necessaries. Feeding the horses and mules is the big job in the American army. Each animal is allowed 14 pounds of hay and 10 pounds of oats daily. In rare cases of emergency, when supplies are short, the animals are grazed on the country. The motor trucks must be fed Just like the army mule, only their sustenance is gasoline and oil. Those now in service consume about 5,000 gallons of gasoline daily. The big metal drums deliver 36,400 pounds every 24 hours. It cannot all be loaded on at the railroad and supplies must be hauled to the different bases. The latest innovation is tank-car trucks, like those on a railroad, to haul the fuel. Rations for the Troops. Each man is allowed on a basis of 3% pounds of rations a day. He is allowed a pound of meat, which may be either bacon, fresh beef, corned beef, salmon or canned roast beef. Then there is a pound of bread, which may be either fresh from the portable camp bakeries, or “hard brehd,” a crackerlike substitute’for the old hardtack. Four pounds of coffee are doled out for 100 men. Then there is an allowance of tomatoes, salt, beans, prunes, potatoes, pepper, sugar, etc., making up the rest of 3% pounds. Anyone who has seen the bustling quartermaster’s stores at one of the army’s bases can understand why the punitive expedition could not dash across the border and into Mexico as fast as horses could gallop. This commissary feature tells the need of caring for the army when it is hundreds of miles from the borders of the United States and in a dry, dusty, cold and mountainous country, which already has been ravished of Its scant resources At the main base the stores form a village, like a bustling open-air railroad freight depot which has sprung up over night, more than 100 miles from the base of supplies or from railroad trains. All that was there the day before was a adobe hut and it is sufficient only for the mess supplies of the men who are working day and night at the depot. Long piles of food higher than a man’s head stretch in parallel columns. In one, there are potatoes in sacks. Others contain boxes, corned beef for stew\ known as slumgullion, cans of salmon from the cold Northwest, big bales of salt bacon which it takes two men to carry, hard bread in waterproof tins, roast beef and other nourishing food, each in its separate column. Beans are in an immense uncovered bin, its sides built up by boxes, from which they are measured out with a shoveL Then there are other big columns of wood for the mess fifes and scattered around are miscellaneous supplies, each in its proper place. - Order Out of the Chaos. To one who does not .understand the diagram, everything seems in confu-

sion. In the distance by day appears a cloud of dust' or a rumble and flash of many headlights by night and a moment later in rolls a long train of trucks or tugging mules, all dust covered, and apparently scattering around in endless confusion sometimes two and three trains arriving within a few hours. In the chaos there is order, for in less than three hours a big truck train can be unloaded and reloaded with another assortment of supplies, the trucks refilled and tinkered up and started again for a base farther south. Everything has been weighed, checked and recorded. It is the army system. Mexicans are employed as laborers at $2 silver a day, which is 2 % to 1 of our money. The Mexican army pays its soldiers $2.25 paper a day, which is about 50 to 1 of our money. In case regular rations cannot be bought there is the emergency ration for the men of chocolate and pemmican—like a mixture of meal and dry molasses to be mixed with salt and water —which each man carries. Jerked beef is a new ration which has been added by the army in the present campaign. It is prepared in Mexico near the main base. So much for the necessaries. Close after those of food are the horseshoes, nails and harness parts, which average a ton a month. Then there is lumber, tools, clothing, hospital and other supplies. Even tobacco is an important item which is hauled a ton at a time. The army store sold S3OO worth recently, so it is in considerable demand. Another big commodity which must be carried is ammunition. So far the fighting has not been so extensive as to require any considerable amount of this, but when it is needed, the line of communication must be in position to handle it promptly. A wagon is loaded with 2,700 pounds and a truck with 3,000 pounds. They are kept busy.

MUSIC PLANT IN CELLAR

Ingenious Indiana Man Rigs Up Phonograph to Send Music Through Hot Air Pipes. Brazil, Ind.—H. E. Thompson, when he wishes music at his home, presses an electric button on the wall, and from the cold air duct and the registers of the hot-air furnace come in succession ten different selections, which are repeated until the electric switch is turned off. The music is produced by a phonograph arrangement In the basement A circular table is arranged with ten records around it, all moved by an electric motor beneath the table. In the center of the table, pointing upward into the air duct, is a large plaster of parts horn, which Is connected with the reproducing mechanism. After a record is played a cork roller carries the needle to the next record.

HOUSE STRUCK BY LIGHTNING

Bob Russell, His Wife and Baby Have Narrow Escape In Texas Storm. Brady, Tex. —Bob Russell, his wife and baby, who live six miles west of Brady, had a narrow escape one night when lightning struck their home, giving them a severe shock and setting the wallpaper and bed clothing afire. The electric bolt passed across the roof and came down the wall inside the room where the family were asleep and passed to the ground by way of a telephone wire and two shotguns standing near a bed. Russell was rendered unconscious, and when he recovered he found the bed clothing and wall paper afire. He was able to extinguish the blaze with but little difficulty. The barrels of both guns were melted, as was also the telephone ground wire.

DISCOVERS OWN DOG IS THIEF

Walter J. Chapman, Jerseyville Prosecutor Finds Himself in a Dilemma. Jerseyville, Ill.—State’s Attorney J. Chapman has a difficult prosecution upon his hands. For several weeks neighbors have been missing articles delivered by grocers and left upon rear porches, and milk bottles have been emptied of their contents. Investigation disclosed that Ruler, a finely bred pointer owned by the (date’s attorney, had learned to open milk bottles with one paw.

SOUGHT GOD'S HEIP

Lesson for Mankind in the Savior’s Communing With the Father in Solitude. What ‘ special circumstances were they which made our Lord seek the ministry of solitude? If I can only find out when the master sought the restoring influence of solitude, it may indicate to me the times when I should find the strengthening and the calm, ing Influence of solitude in my own life. > ‘ Jesus of Nazareth was always hear, ing bad news. The story of the world’s sin and woe was forever being poured into his sympathetic ears. But 1 think that if I wished to point out one day darker than another, I should select that day when the disciples of John, stunned, bewildered, broken-bearted, came and told the Christ that they had just been burying their murdered and headless leader. Jesus of Nazareth loved John the Baptist. He loved him for his fldeL ity, for his humility, for his magnificent subordination of himself to the purpose of his mission. And now this faithfuT friend has been foully butchered! And the story of the great tragedy is told so simply. “And John’s disciples came and took up the body and buried it, and went and told Je. sue.” How will he receive the terrible news? I am reverently curious to know how this Jesus will encounter sad news in the shape of a great affliction. "When Jesus heard of it „ . . he departed thence into a desert place apart." The first thing he did was to seek to be alone. When this cold burden of sorrow touched his heart, immediately he sought to be alone with God. Always “Thy Will Be Done.” We have not been told anything of those lonely communions which our Savior had with the Father; but I think we may infer the character of them from what we learn elsewhere. Our Savior was more than once overheard in prayer, and snatches of his r-nmmunion have been preserved forus. And this was the burden of them all, "Thy -will be done!” When the cross of life was very heavy, he went apart, communed with the father, saw the sure foundations, gained assurance himself, resigned himself anew, and came forth again clothed with superlative radiance and power. I would ask you, then —you upon whom trouble may fall tomorrow —to remember the example of your master, who encountered a great sorrow by first of all going into a place apart, that there he might be assured of his Father’s presence and sovereignty, and by the assurance resign himself to the Father’s will. Let us now take another occasion in his life when our Savior sought the ministry of solitude. "And it came to pass in those days that he went out into a mountain to pray, and continued all night in prayer to God." And why? "And when it was day he called unto him his disciples, and of them he chose twelve.” Here is the connection —a whole night spent in mountain solitude, alone with the Father, before making a great choice in the selection of twelve men. Jesus of Nazareth went into solitude before making great decisions. God Will Point the Way. Now, you and I are often under the necessity of making great decisions, of choosing one road from many roads. We have often to take momentous steps in the way of life. We are often led up to crises where we know that decision is pregnant with tremendous issues. How do we approach such decisions? i Now, God has promised to give what he calls "the spirit of "wisdom" to all who seek it And you remember those words of the apostle James: “If any man lack wisdom” —not merely bread or shelter—"if any man lack wisdom” —ideas, judgment, direction, Insight—"let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally.” Wisdom is the gift of God, as well as dally bread. He giveth “the spirit of wisdom” to man. You are face to face with an emergency which calls for practical judgment You get alone, and seek the presence of the Eternal. He promises to bestow upon you the spirit of wisdom; that is to say, as you commune with him the whole tone of your spirit will be raised and purified, and your capacity of moral discernment and judgment will be quickened and enlarged.—Rev. J. H» Jowett, D. D.

“Out of the Mouths of Babes.”' The Bible presents us with a view of a God vast enough to fill the infinite spaces, and tender and loving enough to fit down by his grace into the niches and grooves of our innermost experience. A freethinker met a plain countryman going to church. He asked him where he was going. "To church, sir!” “What to do there?*' "To worship Gpd! r * "Pray, tell me whether your God is a great God or a little God?” "He is both, sir.” “How can he be both?” “He is so great, sir, that the heavena eannot contain him. and so little that he can dwell in my heart.” The freethinker declared that this simple answer from the plain peasant had more effect upon his mind than all the volumes which learned doctors had written against him. The simple are often wise, and there is no telling when the Holy Spirit may taka even the utterance of a child to convince an astute thinker of sin, right* eousness and judgment to come.—■» Zion’s Herald. ' • ‘ r '