Evening Republican, Volume 20, Number 309, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 29 December 1916 — A War Barometer [ARTICLE]

A War Barometer

“Shut up!’* growled Giggum, to his friend Bazoot. “I don’t want to talk nbqut the war!” “Well, I don’t care whether you dc nr not This is the only chance I’ve nad to express myself in a* whole month. Our cook is an importation, and we don’t want to offend ner, so we can’t breathe a word around the house. “This war Isn’t nearly as impoitant to our family, however, as otu cook is. So we don’t want to say anything that crn give her the slightest grounds for o.fense. We can go and whisper among ourselves when there are developments, but she Is always on the alert oven for that, and It is liable to feet the biscuits. . •*' “When our good Tbefesa is feeling bad about the struggle, the biscuits are also gloomy and heavy and sad, whereas If the news Is good the biscuits are airy and pleasant. “You can’t imagine how biscuits become imbued with the humor of the cook. Now, when a new nation mobilizes, Theresa’s lips begin to pout, and her spirits to droop—” “And the biscuits do likewise?’’ “Well, they are gritty and sour.” “And are the biscuits uncertain when the news is?” “No, her cooking is naturally good, and unless there is bad news she is the best cook in the United States. But vTts have to do a little censoring ourselves once in a while. When the news is bad we ditch the paper, if we possibly can, and when the news is agreeable we place the paper before her. It is a hard job to sidetrack the paper however, for she is generally nut watering the lawn when the paper boy comes, and she grabs the sheet. “So we don’t need a paper to ascer tain how things are faring with the entente and the, alliance. We/ can ted fiom watching Theresa's face. All we need to do is to watch her va ying expression. If we can’t see her face we ran still tell by her back.” “Does it go up like a mad cat’s?’’ “No, but there is a certain rigid expression that it takes on when her fellow countrymen are making a desperate struggle and things look bad, and there is also a sort of relaxation when things are going well. “At first I wanted to see tho Knglisli and their Allies win, hut not any more. I want to see the Kaiser win now.’’ “Why? How’s that?” “I want to keep my good cook. I don’t want her to get the idea that it is necessary for her to go over to Eu rope and help.’’

In the Future The ballroom was crowded. The girls’ dark dress suits, wilh their gleaming white shirt fronts, made a pleasing background for the men’s many colored and graceful costumes. What strong, handsome girls, and what a glorious bunch of blushing, appealing masculinity. With what gallant eagerness each girl rusheci for ward to claim her partner.

The couple of the evening was Little Willie Small and his escort—big, strong, powerful Betty Lipscomb, a fine picture of protecting womanhood! And well might any girl be proud to win for herself such a charming, pretty little husband as Little Willie. Betty’s heart missed a beat as she gazed down upon his delicate head, jesting so trustfully against her broad shoulder as they hopped thru the breathless measures of the horse tret. She felt that at all costs sue must j earn her fate that night. Little Willie knew, also that the time had come when he could no longer avoid yielding to the masterful love of this most attractive woman, and his little heart beat wildly in anticipation of the *great moment. * At the end ol the dance, Bet’Ly, with sudden determination led her blushing partner to a secluded corner well nidden behind a thick screen of growing plants. Little Willie sank Into a chair and picked up his little ivory handled fan, which dangled by a silk cord from his wrist. Drawing a chair lip close to his, Betty took the fan from him gently and began to wield It nervously. Little Willie’s delicate blue veined hands toyed absently with the huge bunch of roses at his waist as he exclaimed in a soft, bell like ; voice, which thrilled Betty to the depths of herjyeing: “What a heavenly dance!” Little Wilie leaned close to her as he asked, in an aggiieved little voice: “Don’t you think so too, Betty 7” What girl could have withstood the liquid innocence of his pale blue eyes and the childish' curve of his tempting red lips? Certainly not Bet'.y Lipscomb. The fan dropped unheeded from her hhnd as she drew Little Willie to her, exclaiming, brokenly: “Oh, my darling, could wo but dance thru life together always! Little Willie, I love you—love you! Will you marry me?’’ Gently she turned his beautiful lit»le face toward her with- her firm, large hand and fervently sought her answer in his eyes. With a delicious sigh of complete surrender. Little Wi: He yielded her to his lips.