Evening Republican, Volume 20, Number 205, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 26 August 1916 — Page 2

Manhood Alone Is What Counts

Labor, calling, profession, scholarship and artificial and arbitrary distinctions of all sorts, are incidents and accidents of life and pass away. It is only manhood that remains, and it is only by manhood that man is to be measured. When this proposition shall be comprehended and accepted, it will become easy to sec that there is no such thing as menial work in this world. No work that God sets a man to do —no work to which God has specially adapted a man's powers—can properly be called either menial or mean. The man who blacks your boots and blacks them well, and who engages in that variety of labor because he can do it better than he can do anything else, may have, if he choose, just as sound and true a manhood as you have, not only after he gets through the work of his life, but now, with your boots in one hand and your shilling in the other. There is very much dirtier work done in politics and sometimes in the professions, than that of blacking boots; work, too, which destroys manhood, or renders its acquisition impossible.

Aeroplane Has Outstripped Motor Car In the Rapidity of Its Recent Development.

“The aeroplane In Its developed state would decide many of the problems we confront today, provided the plane were fitted to living conditions and commercial requirements, says a writer. “The war perfected the aeroplane In this short time to a greater degree than the motor car was developed in any ten years of Its growth. “Several years were taken to prove to the public that the motor car would run at all without a horse in waiting. Years were taken to educate the public to two cylinders as against the single, or to four as against the two. Years more were spent In educating the buying public and developing the six, and now we are preaching eight and twelve. It has taken years to develop the light-weight idea In mot ol ' cars. The public has held back the development of the motor car. “The aeroplane, in contrast, has been developed by governments under war conditions. Motors of today for aeroplanes are of twice the horsepower of those used a year ago, while planes have been built up to 1,000 horsepower in five motor units. These machines land at under 30 miles per hour and travel well over a hundred in the air.”

Her Stockings.

- A tiny pocket on the side of a pair of silk stockings provides a place for carrying the handkerchief while dancing. This pocket is just a nice height above the ankle and on the outer side of the right stocking. Opal spangles ornament some stockings: others are decorated with beads or rhinestones, and for every variety we have the hand-painted stockings with stalks of blooming plants forming the “clocks" and gay butterflies fluttering over the instep. Imagine the truly poetic effect of three lace butterflies (with wings upraised so that they flutter bewi tehingly) on the front of her stockings, one above the other, from instep to shoetop height! Of course, these are to be worn only with dancing slippers, or similar ones equally low.

All Around the World.

Amsterdam has been given the first crematory in the Netherlands. Between them Spain and Portugal produce 70 per cent of the world's cork. Turning the knotfeven a trifle rings a bell in the new lock for residence doors. A Frenchman has developed a method for obtaining casein from milk by electrolysis. ' \ - An adjustable attachment for a baby’s chair to hold a nursing bottle has been patented. Germany claims to lead the world In the use of machinery directly driven by electric motors: A magazine has been patented for carrying an extra load of tobacco along the stem of a pipe. Experiments have indicated to Honduras that it may. become an important cotton-raising nation. The desk clock and electric light have been combined in a new spacesaving office convenience. Glass forks have been invented for handling pickles to avoid imparting a metallic taste to them. Toy molds to enable children to make building Weeks from snow have been invented by a German.

What Women Are Doing.

Policewomen are now being appointed all over Germany. Many Filipino women catch and sell fish for a living. Woman agricultural workers in Spain number over 775,000. Female employees in California are allowed to work only eight hours a day. v Over 23,000 women are employed in the hardware industry In England. The more wealthy women of Turkey now discard their veils when receiving guests. Nearly all the light machine work in the British monitions factories is carried on by women. Nearly 30,000 women are employed in the factories supplying the needs of (he army in Germany. *

By J. G. HOLLAND.

performed the marriage ceremony for most of them.” Struck the Wrong Place. “Say,” queried the tough-looking hobo at the kitchen door, “where’s de guy wot lives here?” “Oh,” answered the farmer’s wife, who Was evidently wiser than her home-grown complexion would seem to indicate, “he’s back of the barn burying a tramp the dog chewed up this morning. Wait a second and I will call him.” But by the time she reached the door the unwashed hobo was headed down the pike, beating it at an aeroplane gait. Deserves It. “There goes a pious man.” "Everyone says so.” “A mansion is reserved for him in the skies.” “I truly hope so. I overheard him just now in a real estate office pleading With his landlord to patch his roof.” Facts in the Case. Said He —Were they divorced because of a misunderstanding? Said She —No; because they understood each other too well, I believe. Good Singing.

“This quartet is splendid.” “Yes,” answered the ' low-browed person. “It’s great, i thought once or twice the bass was going to be a few seconds late with that comedy stuff, but he was right on time.”

Ambitious Plans. “Are you prepared to do anything for the heathen?” asked the mission worker. “I should say we are!” answered the capitalist, proudly. “We’ve sent some of our best salesmen to China, and I predict that in a short while hundreds of well-to-do Chinese will be enjoying rides in the best motor car made in America.”

PERILS OF NATURE

By DR. SAMUEL G. DIXON. Commissioner of Health of Pennsylvania. Our streams, once undefiled by man, ran from the mountains to the sea in

In that with which nature has endowed much of our territory more richly tfiau many other countries, we now find lurking poison so hidden, that in some cases it is to be seen o&ly by the aid of the microscope. In the season when we travel through the country to be happy and lay up energy and strength for the toil of the coming winter, the* want of intelligence and care makes us deaf to the teaching of preventive medicine, and we quench our thirst at the stream we run across, regardless of its purity, and often the sparkling tumbler of water Is only to be compared with the draught of the deadly hemlock. The parched lips have been moistened and the thirst satisfied, but

A Few Smiles.

The Mystery Explained.

“Why is It,” queried the stranger within the gates, “that so many of the men in this village seem to have an Ingrown grudge against the minister “Well, It’s like this, stranger,” answered the postmaster, “he’s been here for nearly fifty years and has

all of nature’s purity. They ran through our valleys and meadows in all their pristine beauty and offered to all animate nature that which would innocently quench the thirst of man and beast and help them live. Today it is not so.

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER, IND.

SUNDAY GREATER PLAYER THAN COBB, SAYS VETERAN

Evangelist Could Run Bases and Field Better Than Ty, Declares Eagle- --- Eye Jake Beckley. There’s at least one ball-playing person who refuses to make It unanimous about Ty Cobb being the greatest ball player of all time. And that’s old Eagle-Eye Jqke Beckley, who played the guine nearly as long as Nap Lajole and Is now an umpire, living In Kansas City. A quarter century ago old Eagle-Eye was in his prime, one of the hardest hitting first sackers the game ever knew. “You can have your Ty Cobbs and your Benny Knuffs,” Jake Beckley says; “I’ll take Billy Sunday for my ball club right. no\T,_ and I said the same thing back In ninety. “He’s fifty-two years old today, but he’s running bases and sliding every day in that pulpit Just as he did back

Billy Sunday.

•In the old days. If he’d stayed in the game Cobb never would have been famous. “He was greater than Ty Cobb ever dared to be in three departments of the game. “Everybody thinks Cobb can run bases. I’d spot him a second against Billy Sunday and then watch Bill score first. "They think Cobb covers outfield territory. They should have seen Sunday in his prime. “And throw- —say, he could throw strikes from center field just as easily as Tris Speaker. “Butting was where Sunday was weak. But in another year or so he would have overcome that weakness. He was just that kind. “He had more fight in his heart than any man I ever saw.”

Nettie Weed Supplants Cotton.

In thgir quest for material which can be used as a substitute for cotton, German scientists have discovered that the troublesome nettle weed contains a long fiber which can be woven into a durable cloth. The difficulty to overcome was to separate It from the woody splinters which scratch and irritate the skin. An ammonia process was first used, but this w r as expensive. An inventor named Richter has now devised a water process by which the irritating particles are separated from the fiber, and considerable quantities of the nettle cloth have already been woven. It is nearly water proof, absorbs dye readily and is a coarse, strong elhth suitable for many purposes. )

the day of judgment too often comes, bringing the development of typhoid fever which in years past we could only compare With some of the plagues that ravaged our ancient cities. Those of us who collect, tabulate and have ever before us the statistics that show the sobering and sorrow that still continue from typhoid fever, beg you to awaken to that which causes so muefi distress. By proper care it can be avoided. Never drink out of an unknown surface stream. When traveling see tliat pure water is carried along, as well as food, otherwise the harvest of sickness and death will follow.

Boys Weaker Than Girls.

In view of the number of men killed by the war, the result of a study now being made by an English physician is rather pessimistic as regards the future masculine supremacy of< the race. For a period covering nearly five years his study indicates that the mortality of boys under a year of age has been from 123 to 125, as compared with 100 for girl babies. Nothwitlistanding. the fact that at birth boys have the advantage of four to five ounces of weight over the average girl baby, they have less resistant power and are therefore less able to throw off disease. The reports upon babies born since the war ace incomplete, but they indicate that while the number of boys born* is considerably in excess of the girls, the number who survive their first year is so much less that there is no hope of the men of the next generation equaling the number of women.

The Leading Witness

Bu FRANK FILSON

tCopyrleht. UU6. by W. G. Chapman.) Old Mrs. Susan Jenkins’ murder had horrified the town. Suspicion pointed at once to Frank Jenkins, her nephew, who, after being repeatedly cut off and reinstated in the old lady’s will, had disappeared from the scene for eral years until the week before. Frank Jenkins struck me as weak rather than criminal. I could not see him murdering his aunt In cold blood. But sentiment was strongly against him. His only friend was Mabel Armstrong, who had helped keep‘the ne’er-do-well as straight as it was possible for him to go. The evidence seemed extremely strong. Frank had been living with his aunt for a week. The old woman, who was Irascible, had threatened him again with the loss of her property. So much Jad, the Polish farm hand, had volunteered through an Interpreter. Jad w r as a sullen, ungainly lout, who could not speak a word of English. He had been employed about three weeks and had come from an immigrant bureau. The Reeses, who lived next door, had heard cries during the night, but had thought the old lady was merely angry and scolding her nephew. At six in the morning Frank had burst into their home, shouting that his aunt had been murdered. She had been strangled with a piece of tape, and there were signs df a struggle in her room. She clutched a lock of hair in her hand. It was obviously Frank’s hair. The boy was arrested as soou as the police came on the scene. Jad, who had slept In the loft over the barn, deposed that he had heard nothing. absolutely damning evidence, however, was Pliineas’. Pliineas was Mrs. Jenkins’ parrot. He was swing-

"Oh, frank!" He Shrilled. “Don't Frank!”

ing on his perch- when the detectives entered, and he cocked his head and looked at them. t "Oh, Frank!” he shrilled. “Don’t, Frank!” Mabel Armstrong came to me. I promised to do what I could, but Frank already had been committed for trial, and public sentiment was furiously against him. If it wasn’t Frank it was Jad, of that I was certain. But I had nothing to work on. I mistrusted the Pole; I knew that he was a frequenter of low places in town, and I knew that his knowledge of English must be more than he pre- . tended. That helped me nothing. 1 went to Frank in the jail and became convinced of his innocence from the moment he opened his lips. “I’ve been a mucker,” he said, “but I never stooped to murder.” “Where were you on that night?” I asked. “How Is it you didn’t hear your aunt cry if she was in the next room ?” Frank looked me straight in the face. “I was drunk,” he answered. “She had been nagging me until I couldn’t stand it any longer, and I went out and had a glass of whisky. It must doped. I remember going to bed —and that’s all, till five o’clock in the morning. Something startled nqe. I got up find knocked at her door. There was no answer. The door was unlocked, and I went in. Then —oh, God, Mr. James, to think that that infernal parrot should have called my name!” I told him that I meant to save him, and I meant it, too. Mabel Armstrong went to see Frank. ,„She was the calmer of the two. She came away as encouraged as I had been. I wanted to put a private detective on Jad’s trail, but Mabel insisted on watching him herself. She did settlement work in the poor neighborhood where Jad was now living. About a week later she came to me, her eyes exultant. • 7 “We’ve got him!” she exclaimed. ‘.What, that Polish fellow?” I said. Mabel nodded. “He lives over a Polish barber," she said. “I don’t understand” I began, and suddenly I saw light. “You mean the

lock of hair? But Frank never had his hair cut in such a place as that I” "No, but Semplovitcb worked for Chloazi, the barber on Main street, three weeks before the murder.” “And?” “And he must have gathered a lock of Frank’s hair from the floor after it was cut off, and given it to Jftd. There’s your clew, Mr. James.” She looked so happy and pretty that if she had been five years younger, or I five years older, I think I should have kissed her. “But that Isn’t all,” she added. “What next?” i asked. > “Semplovltch is an animal trainer. “And keeps birds?” “Canaries, parrots and finches. Teaches birds to talk In twelve hours by covering their cages and using a phonograph.” “Then the parrot must have been taken out bf the house!” I exclaimed. “On the evening of the murder 1” she answered. I followed up this clew. I found a little girl in a Russian family residing overhead who had seen Semplovitch carrying in a parrot In a cage at nine o’clock on the night of the murder. The parrot lived in Mrs. Jenkins’ sitting room, adjoining her bedroom on the one side, while Frank’s room was on the other. The police laughed at my theory, although the lock of hair business impressed them. The parrof was being kept in the sitting room as evidence for the prosecution. And now I confess to a trick I played. I make this admission with regret, but I was morally convinced of the guilt of Jad and bis accomplice. It was necessary to stage the scene so as to surprise Semplovltch Into a confession. And so—well, the house was sealed up, but even a middle-aged lawyer can climb through a window with a loose catch upon occasion. And so, having visited Semplovltch and gathered an impression as to his family relations, much to his disgust and suspicion, I took my phonograph into the sitting room and coached that parrot five successive nights with the assistance of sundry sunflower seeds. When all was ready I Induced the police chief to bring Jad and Semplovitch into the sitting«room by day. I turned on the barber.

“You took a lock of Frank Jenkins’ hair from the floor of Chiozzi s, I said. Taken by surprise, the fellow yet managed to express blank lack of understanding. So I removed the cover from the parrot’s cage. The bird flapped its wings and began to shriek: “Take me home! Take me home 1 Jad’s going to kill my-mistress! I won’t say Frank Jenkins did it!” Which was not, of course, what it had heard in Semplovitch’s shop. But the effect on the superstitious Pole was electrical. He dropped on his knees and blurted out a full confession there and then. Jad paid the full penalty of his crime, and Semplovitch will be an old man indeed when he comes out of the penitentiary. As for Frank and Ma-bel-well, they are pretty happy together, and the past has been lived down.

Week-End in Bed.

A philosopher in London Opinion has some views on warm-weather comfort and happiness that are hot altogether new but are well worth considering, even on this side pf the Atlantic. His view of happiness, or rather of comfort, is to retire to rest on a Friday night and get up on Monday afternoon. He regards the idea as restful and economical, but finds that the household government prevents putting it in practice. “Sloth,” he says, “we are told in the copybooks, is vicious, and a moralist has declared that what maintains one vice could bring up two children. I don r t want to bring up two children,” declares this lazy philosopher, “but it is pleasant to maintain one vice. Nearly all the worries of life arise from the imitative faculty. If duchesses suddenly developed a taste for breaking coal with a hammer, the assistants in drape shops would immediately want to do the same—not because they enjoyed breaking coal with a hammer but because it was ‘the thing’ ”

Women and Dishrags.

When a woman declares that she “feels like a dishrag,” she is dragging herself down to the lowest level in still life. Wo doubt not from the personal appearance of that handy article of domestic utility that if any life existed at all In said rag it could not possibly fall lower or feel meaner. However, woman should never offer herself in comparison with so degraded an object, for the simple reason that mankind spurns the dishrag most vehemently, and as woman exists solely for man she should not seek to lower herself in his esteem. When a rag takes up its duties in the it has reached the tag end of abandoned hope, the climax perhaps of a merry life. But it is not of its past that I speak. It is of its present social standing, its vulgar environments and its utter self-abandonment. 'Tis true that you may feel fatigued to a limp and loppy degree, but never can you feel so utterly wretched and beyond re-" demption as a dishrag I—-“Zim,”1 —-“Zim,” in Cartoons Magazine.

Works Both Ways.

“I always like to meet a fellow who came from a farm,” remarked Congressman Flubdub. “Yes?” “Yes. You can advise him to go back to it if he isn’t a success, and congratulate him on leaving it if he is."

KNEW HOW IT WAS

80N UNDERSTOOD WHAT MEMORIES MEANT TO MOTHER. Lesson in This Story to the Young Who Fail to Realize What Associations Represent to Those .... Who Are Aging. The time had come for the family , to be broken up. Ope by one the children had married and moved away. Mother had bidden them good-by with tears. She had taken care of them all for so long! She had been the big' factor in all their lives. Yet she knew that It could not last forever.. The boy, the “baby” of the household, was the last to go. * The daughter who was to live with mother had been getting along well In the world and had seen no reason for having a man help her manage her affairs, and as she vowed that this state would last forever she decided that mother had best go with her. Daughter decided that all the old furniture must be sold and that they must move into a new house with all new furniture. It was pathetic to see how mother watched each old piece of furniture, as she dusted it on her daily rounds. The old walnut bedstead, the cherry dresser, the old-fashioned cane-bot-tomed walnut chairs that had been in her room so long were old friends. She protested feebly against having to have a new brass bed In the new home. As the day for moving drew nearer mother became more and more depressed. The business daughter, engrossed In her own affairs, did not know the heart pangs It was taking ior mother to reconcile herself to with the old furniture. It vMs mother’s link to the past.

A day before moving into the new place, the son from the far city came home, He had an understanding heart. He saw in a minute what the daughter had failed to see. Mother just could not part with the old furniture. The daughter insisted that she must not have any old-fashioned stuff cluttering up the new house. The son argued for a room for mother with all the old furniture. But the daughter was not sentimental. A bed was to be slept in. That was the extent of Its value. How mother could cling to those relics was more than she could understand. Sister had always remembered her brother as too sentimental for his own good. She had wondered how it was he had escaped marriage thus far. But the son understood his mother. He could see how she was aging, for he had not been with her every day for years. He understood her as her daughter did not. Life without the old associations would be mere existence. He found mother rubbing the look-ing-glass on the old dresser. There were tears in her eyes. Then h<%could stand it no longer. “Mother, I just came home to tell you that I hnve come back to the old town to accept a new position, and I am sick and tired of hotels. Why can’t I mpve my trunk home here, fix up father’s old room for my desk and papers and live like I used to? “Everything in this old house will stay just as It is. Only I have to get some of those old rag carpets for the bedrooms like we had years and years ago. You are going to be boss of the ranch. I’ll be the hired hand, and we’ll make the old house be glad It’s still standing.” 1 Mother did not say a word. She began to cry. And because the son understood women —and especially mothers —he was glad to hear her cry, for he knew it was for joy.—lndianapolis News.

Irrigation In Egypt.

The Egyptian ministry of public works, which has been experimenting' In cotton raising during the past ten years in the Gezia region in the' Sudan, has issued an optimistic report to the effect that It will be possible to do better than double the yield of cotton in the Nile Delta by means of a system of dams for Irrigation in connection with the White Nile and the Blue Nile. Vast quantities of water have been stored already, and during the past 30 years nearly a million acres of entirely new land have been added to the taxable soil of the country. It is estimated that In this newly explored region about 2,500,000 acres of land could be mhde capable of growing cotton. This, as a matter of fact, would give more land than is now planted with cotton in Egypt. Irrigation works are now being constructed, and a plot of 150,000 acres is being treated.

Industrious Knitter.

“I never saw a more industrious woman than that Mrs. Crum,” the teacher remarked, before the Kentucky mountain boys and girls gathered” at the school dinner table. “Why, even when I meet her on the road she pulls her yarn and needles out of her pockets and goes to knitting!’’ Teacher’s manifestation of surprise brought forth a volley of ejaculations from the children, each of whom had mother, aunt or cousin who was equally ardent at wool-working. “Oh,” exclaimed one little fellow, reaching the climax of the discussion, “I had a grandmother who was the knittiest woman I ever knowed. She used to take her knitting to bed with her, and every few minutes she woked up and throwed out a pair o flocks.” —Harper’s Magazine. _ „,