Evening Republican, Volume 59, Number 124, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 11 June 1917 — Page 3

HASHIMURA TOGO

Hpn. Dear Sir: Another place where I am habitually absent can be found at home of Hon. Mrs. & Mr. Susan J. Fogg, Turnverein, Conn. 1 wae burnt away from that place because of my heroism. I tell you how was: This Mrs. Fogg lady reside with her husband and furnture in a residence, which are covered, with extremely wooden decorations, which talented sculptors have cut out with saws. She say it is one Queen Annie house. Perhaps so it is. Maybe this Annie were empress of Coney Island to build such merry architecture. Hon. Mrs. Boss are considerable proud of her house & what is Imide. "Togo,” she otter with serious eyebrows, “there is not one drop of fire Insurance on this house!” So Hon. Mrs. Fogg donate to me one smallish volume of book entitled “First Ade tn Fires.” This literature which is bound in 4th of July color, tell me following information about Are when he gets loose: "Chimbleys are most dangerous articles to have around a house because they gets clogged with soot, thusly causing inflammation of the roof which creates blazes and burns insurance. Total loss. Best way to put out a mad chimbley is to sprinkle salt down him until he quits. “In case of houseaflre, human folks must be save* before all other furniture, because they are most combustible. This can be did by throwing wet blanket over them and dragging them forth. Valuable heirlooms can be saved from burning house by taking them out.” I read this instructions, Mr. Editor, and feel prepared for anything. This Mrs. Fogg got one Irish cooklady name of Hilda Katz. Hon. Hilda are beautiful, except her face and figure, which are not. She enjoy very sorry romance, because of Hon. Wm., a hack-driver, who drove away with another fiancee and remain there. Consequent of this, Hon. Hilda weep & cook nearly all time. ‘Togo,” she report to me, while making tears and pies, “never promise to marry any gentleman in the livery-stable business. ’ "I shall avoid this peril firmly,” 1 narrate.. “67 doz. assorted love-letters this Wm. sent me. And what asefulness are they now?” Weeps by her. “They might make a sad novel, if printed among pictures,” I say so. She peel onions with Romeo expression. But I were too busy being a fire-detective to think of Wm. and his escape from love. Nearly each hour by clock-time Hon. Mrs. would come to me and talk underwriter language: "You hear that smell of smoke?” she require. It were nice, balmish evening of summer weather when Mrs. and Mr. Chas Hassock, neighborly persons of quiet fashion, was there to play bridgegamble amidst society clothing. Hon. Mr. Fogg, medium gentleman with tame whiskers, were also there acting like a husband-man. Bridge-card resume for several hours while those 4 persons sat there calling each other “Trumps” and other American insults. O suddenly!! what was that my nose smelled? Inflammatory smell of fire!! ■ With iced brain I recall what “First Ade to Fires” said about mad chimbleys, so I rosh silently to outside house to see how ours were behaving. O surely yes! Hon. Chimbley were shooting sparkles & pin-wheels from his enraged bricks! What I do then? With immediate quickness, I rosh to dining room and grab 2 salt-sellers in my courageous thumbs. Making my toes extremely swift, I clomb ladder to roof & scramble along shingles with care peculiar

I Pepper Considerable Salt Straight Into the Face of That Mad Chimbley.

*to Thos. Cats. Then, by heroic movements of wrists, I pepper considerable salt straight into the face of that mad Chimbley. Yet he still continue on makWhat nextly must I do? I think of that fire-volume which say, “Human (folks must be saved before all other furniture.” So I scomper to bed-room, dragg forth one complete blanket & soush Ihim in wet water of bath-tub. With these blanket held in my firm knuckles, !l ascended downstairs to parlor where Hon. Mrs. Fogg set In her elegant hair ■and considerable expensive face-powder calling Mrs. Hassock a “Renig” in Ibridge-language. With wetness of blanket, I stand behind Hon. Mrs. Fogg. “What for?” she holla when she seen me. But before anything else ■could collapse, I wound wettish blanket round her head. “Gog!" she report with strangely voice. Yet, before she could narrate more, I had drogged her forthly to fresh air. “What is the meaning of this meanness?” require Hon. Fogg. “Meaning of Fire!” I yellup. “Why do you stand there making speechless talks, when your home is sparking?” At this oratory of words, everybody begin making hook-and-ladder movements. Hon. Fogg grabb bird-cage .and pair of tongs. Hon. Mrs. save 3 plush albums. Hon. Hassock attempt to remove sideboard, but it were nailed to floor. Hon. Mrs. Hassock rosh down street breaking fire-alarms out of telephone poles. . , . But I were more strong in my strength. With Samurai knuckles, 1 grasp cabinet full of cut-up glasswear and roll, him down front steps to lawn. Loud crash! Thusly was valuable dishes saved from fire. With deer-foot heels, I eloped upstairs to bed-room and begin pouring entire household out of window. Mattress, pitchers, rugs, etc., fell like Niagara falling. When I threw forth family water-color landscape representing the face of Aunt Nerissa Hodges, it make boomerang fly-off and struck on head of Hon. Fogg which went through. Too bad. I were just in the heroism of poking brass bedstead through pane of glass, when Mrs. and Mr. Fogg escorted by Mrs. and Mr. Hassock and Hon Hilda Jfatz, cook-lady, suddenly encroach into room and seeze me. '“Platoon of brainless mind!” they all hiss like circular snakes. “Who inform you this house were blaze?” ... “Did I not see Hon. Chimbley spitting rockets?” This from me. “Sakes of shucks!" commute Hon. Hilda contemptibly. “That were not house-afire. That were jperely me burning negligent love-letters in kitchen stove." Grones by all. “So my house are not afire!" report Hon. Mrs. for disappoint. “So sorry!” I regret. In distant midnight I could hear rural hose-car-Tiage approaching with gongs. “Maybe there was no fire, but this were very useful practice. Also I was enabled to show- you the iced quality of my intelligence. Ts there had been some fire, I should put It'out!" “You have put nearly everything Oise out,” say sorrowfully Hon. Mrs., looking outside to moonlight Where the entire interior of her home lay scram- -■■ ■" bled on the lawn. Hon. Fogg gargle with his teeth. “Since you are so talented at putting things out,” he suggest, “perhaps you oan place yourself elsewheres with Immediate rapidness.” . I oblige. When nextly observed, I were setting In R. R. Station await* tag for morning train and feeling quite roasted. Hoping you are the same, • . ' Tours truly, HASHIMURA TOGO. (Copyright, by International Press Bureau.)

by WALLACE IRWIN

TOGO BECOMES A FIRE HERO

POMSSTK. SCIENTIST

SMITH FAMILY IN THE MAJOR LEAGUES

The Smith family is again heavily represented in the major leagues as the 1917 pennant races get under way. The Smiths lead the representation of all other family trees in the majors, a distinction which for many years was held by the Joneses. George Smith, who first won fame at Columbia, is one of the new players to be added to the Giants. Over in Brooklyn one finds another pitching Smith, this being Sherrod, who pitched such sensational ball in the world’s series last October. On the same team is Jimmy Smyth, but the difference in spelling and pronunciation keeps him out of this family reunion. Jack Smith and Fred Smith take orders from Manager Miller Huggins of the Cardinals, and J. Carlyle Smith still operates at third base for the Boston Braves. In the American league two more members are found. Elmer Smith is one of the regular outfielders at Washington and “Popboy” Smith is a pitcher at Cleveland. The Brown family once waSrvery prominent, but now it is about extinct In major league circles.

M’KECHNIE IS GOOD MATURED

Does Not Mind When Beaten Out of Job by Some Likely Youngster— M u st Take Chances.

Bill McKechnie has been on many big league teams and is still on one, if the Cincinnati Reds can be considered that. And because Bill has been beaten out by so many youngsters for. jobs and yet has remained good-natured about it we do think he’s z a pretty good fellow. He is alsA somewhat of a philosopher. “In this game,” Bill figures it out, “you have to take your chances. I’ve been pushed off two or three ball clubs

Bill McKechnie.

by fast young fellows who looked better at the time than I did, and I have pushed some other folks off ball clubs because I was lucky enough to show apparently better form. And I was never sore when I got the hook, nor were the other fellows sore when I beat them out. If any kid player can chase me to the bench, he’s welcome, and I’ll root for him every time he comes to bat.” —Sporting News.

MACK WANTS GOOD PITCHING

Consistent Work on Mound Will Make Athletics Greater Factor in Race for Pennant. “Give us good pitching—not the best, but just good, consistent work on the mound—-and they’ll have to look out for us.” That’s the way Connie Mack sized up his rejuvenated Athletics. . _ “We’ve reached the point where we are likely to do anything. We have a club that is peculiar. It is composed of men who can db many things,” said Mack. “Everyone of them is different. They’re not recognized stars yet, but they can hit and they can run the bases, and the pitchers are finding out how to pitch. They’ll mu ke runs, and they’ll hit most any kind of pitching. All i need is good, bteady work on the mound.!’ ‘ Mack said he was depending a great deal on the Work of Bush, Meyers, Johnson and Noyes.,

ASSISTS PEOPLE TO FORGET

In Times of Gloom and Depression Populace Crave Diversion to Break Monotony. -

Someone has opened a discussion as to what effect actual war would have upon baseball interest In the U. S. A., says New York Tribune. The affirmative and the negative here each have good arguments. War news and war interest would, of course, far outshadow any sporting news or sporting interest, and in that way have a depressing effect. On the other side of the hill, the populace in times of gloom and depression always has seemed to crave some diversion to break the monotony of constant anxiety. As proof of this last statement, ‘Toronto and Montreal last season in the International league had very good seasons despite the fact that Canada has been head high into this war since the start. Sport in time of war is nothing like as important a matter as it is in time of peace. But it still has its uses as a diversion —as a section of the program that is cast in lighter vein. For that reason sport will not be shelved by any means. No nation, even in war times, is going into sackcloth and ashes unless it is being crushed or pressed to the limit. Those not actually engaged will stick to old habits of diversion, just as one in time of trouble craves tobacco more than at any other period of his life.

DUBUC WILL BE BIG WINNER

Ed Spencer, Tiger Backstop, Predicts Jean’s Slow Ball Will Puzzle Pacific Coasters. Ed Spencer, who has had plenty of experience in the minor leagu.es and especially in the Pacific Coast circuit, says Jean Dubuc will be a big winner for the Salt Lake dub this season. “Dubuc’s slow ball will fool those Pacific Coast leaguers,” declares the Tiger backstop. “The air is so rare in Salt Lake City that it is almost impos-

Jean Dubuc.

sible to get a curve on the ball. The pitchers simply buzz them through, trusting to throw them by tho batters. “Dubuc will be a different turler. A slow ball, such as his, is unknown on the coast and it will float past the batters. He will do a lot of I wouldn't be surprised to see him bat above the JOO mark.”

LOYALTY OF ATHLETES

We're listening'to a lot of stuff about the loyalty of athletes. France, Great Britain, Italy, Australia, and Canada provided whole battalions of athletes. The United States is seeking to enlist volunteer soldiers, but thus far not one prominent baseball player, boxer, golfer, tennis player, or even pinochle expert, has joined the colors. When they begin to do so, then and not till then, will we take much stock in their loyalty.'—Bob Thayer in Washington Times.

NOTES of the DIAMOND

Slim Caldwell is the leading Yankee pitcher at the losing end. , ♦ * • White Sox, long overdue, are winning the price paid for them. • • • The Washington Senators are showing very little fight this year. • * * Dillhoefer will make Tinker’s team look almost like a championship outfit. ♦ • • It is up to the champion Brooklyns to pull themselves together and play hard. • * * The release of George Davis by the braves came as a real surprise in baseball. ‘ . • * * “Bean Ball” is stirring lead pencils to protest its use. but who’s going to be its judge? • • * Philadelphians accuse the Braves of making more noise on the bench than with their bats. * • * Fred Merkle’s bat is landing harder and more effectively than the club of any of the Giants. — •—*—• '■ Jinx is accused of pursuing Ray Caldwell. Perhaps last summer’s vacation hasn’t worn off. * * * The Reds do not miss Bill Mo Kechnie with Groh at third base and Dave Shean covering the middle bag. • • • Jack Barry, the new manager of . the Red Sox, is as uncommunicative as his predecessor, and that is going some. • » » Cactus Cravath, the veteran slugger of the Phillies, Is doing some excellent work with his stick again this year. The kaiser’s promises to democratize Germany after the war listens like Clark Griffith’s winter pennant promises. * * * Some well-known pitchers would make excellent material for the aviation corps. Going up in the air is their specialty. • * • One Brooklyn report has it that the Chicago Cubs paid $13,000 cash for Fred Merkle. « • • The Cardinals are getting first-class pitching, and also are batting heavily. These qualities combined win ball gdmes. • ♦ • • Ty Cobb would make a good fighter in the army. He trled’to whip a whole grandstand full of spectators at a ball game once. Bob Bescher of the Cardinals is one of the stockholders in the St. Louis Cardinals “community" of 700 stockholders... ♦ • • The baseball rules for this season have no mention of capital punishment for the boob who tries to steal second with the bases full. Dave Davenport, the Brewers’ star pitcher, is able to work again. A gunshot wound in his breast kept him idle for many weeks. * ♦ » Stallings opines that when Tom Hughes and Dick ftwhrtph begin to pitch in their best form nothing can stop the Boston Braves. * * » . Grover Cleveland Alexander, to spite of the mauling he has received lately, says that nothing is the matter with his $12,500 wing. The Athletics are climbing so high in the percentage column this year that some„M Connie Mack’s athletes are showing symptoms of getting dizzy. • ♦ • President Dickerson of the Central league has Instructed his umpires to introduce each player as he comes to the bat in every game during the season. Fabrique, the Robins’ shortstop, has two faults— inability to make rapid returns to the plate to kill a double steal and a pronounced weakness to batting. • • • The Braves are again managing to keep the other National league teams scared. This thing has become a habit with the Boston players, and they have usually justified it,

HIS BELOVED WIFE

By MARIE A. GOLDEN.

“TJiere isn’t a thing yon or anybody else could possibly say against Mel Satterlee. He’s steady going and thrifty. He’s got that big farm on his hands and money in the bank, and I don’t see what more than that you want, Mary Ellen, or what you expect. Land alive, when I was a girl we’d have thought half that was a catch.” Mary Ellen smiled, a little wistful smile, elose lipped, unsatisfactory, altogether aggravating to anyone* who tried to Influence her one way or the other. Her mother stitched along now, on«her sideboard scarf of tan linen, keeping one eye on Mary Ellen nursing a lame chick by the kitchen fire. There had been four Taylor girls, evruw as nnrl iin.fl “i j "11“ "1 tiivtu ticvv • emu all the other girls were now safely married off; but the youngest had been like the lame chick in her hands, delicate when young and brought up with extra tenderness and forbearance. She was twenty-five now, a ripe old age in Baldwick. She had gone to high school and later to normal school. “How old is Mr. Satterlee, mother, do you suppose?” Mary Ellen’s voice held a low contralto note that always seemed to clear the conversational atmosphere when she spoke. “Not a day over forty,” answered Mrs. Taylor stoutly. “Fine-looking man, too, and you can’t say he isn’t, Mary Ellen.” “It isn’t himself at all,” said Mary Ellen. “It’s his beloved wife, Ann.” Every time I think of him I see her as I remember her when I was a little girl. Wasn’t she dear, mother? I know I loved the columbines that grew in her garden. They were the prettiest anywhere around, and one day he mowed the whole lot down. Then there was one place in the lower meadow where arbutus grew around the gray rocks. He blasted them all out.” “But that's just a man’s way about such things, child,” sighed her mother. “ ‘Hewers of wood and drawers of water’ the Bible says they are, and I don’t see what else the pesky things are for, but a woman must be patient I remember Ann Satterlee, too —Ann Jennings she was before she married him. Used to teach school for awhile over at Hampton Roads. Naturally curly hair and sang in the choir. Beemed as if Mel did—” “Did what, mother?” “Oh, Just took it all out of her. Even as a boy he was set in his ways. ’Course he took his father’s place so young. They say he’s worth $17,000 now, besides the two farms and aH his timber.’’ Mary Ellen knelt down and pulled out from the chair beside the stove. The sick chick was dozing in its box. Out of doors the spring held full sway over the land. She stood on the threshold for an instant, her eyes uplifted to the beauty of the distant hills, then took the short cut through the fields to the little village burial ground behind the church. It stood within its four square rock walls, guarded by pine and hemlock sentinels. Some of the old headstones were of slate and half sunken In the earth, a century and a half old and more. Mary Ellen made her way carefully along the narrow paths until she came to the one spot she sought. It was the last resting place of Ann, beloved wife of Melvin Satterlee. Mary Ellen knelt down pulling out some stray weeds. Somehow she felt a yearning sympathy toward the woman whose life she remembered so well. She felt as If Ann alone could understand now and shield her from Mel Satterlee’s wooing, from money and prestige, his woodlots and two farms, and if she refused him she knew she could not remain at home. And besides there was Elwood —Elwood, only a year older than herself, who had never settled down, never made a success of anything he put his hand to. They had gone to school together, and she had always helped him to pass his examinations. Later, when she had gone ahead, he had. written to her of all his trips away from home, of the long, joyous road jaunts he took by himself, youth’s vagabond, with only hope for comrade. Now he had come into possession of the sawmill in the valley. Half the time when people came there he was away and the big wheel Idle. Yet Mary Ellen loved him. He knew every flower and plant in the hills, the call of every native bird and every favorite spot that she herself loved well. All the arguments of her father ran through her head, all the obligations a child owed to its parents, as he expressed to It wasflying to the face of Providence to throw away the chance of. being Mel Satterlee’s second wife. But Mary Ellen wondered as she knelt in the myrtle and clover whether Ann to her last summing up would not 6a ve placed loVe and tenderness ahead of woodlots and farms. All at once from the old winding up the hill she heard a call, a whistle that imitated the whippoorwill over in the old hemlock near the iron gate. It was Elwood walking leisurely along up from the post office, bareheaded as usual, with his two Gordon setters at his heels. Mary Ellen rose and laid her hand half unconsciously on the granite shaft. “Elwood,” she called clearly, “watt for me!” Just for a moment she paused bending her head until her lips touched a white rose on a little bush at the head of Ann’s grave. “Not for the world,” she whispered. “I choose iove. first.” And she went on to join Elwood down the