Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 221, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 October 1917 — Page 2

Up the Hudson River

WHEN you do the seemingly commonplace thing of buying a ticket for a sail up the Hudson, you are embarking on no commonplace thing at all. For rest assured of this: You are •bout to travel the most beautiful waterway in all the civilized world, Zoe Beckley writes in the New York Mail. There are mighty rivers in Africa, they say, that take the breath away for sheer solitary grandeur. And the Amazon, with vast and sinister forests. And Florida streams, mystic and weird. Virginians point with pride to •the broad Potomac with its fine estates and quiet reaches. People in the Northwest challenge the world with their Columbia —mighty .river of commerce and industry—winding almost “endlessly back from the —TPuget sound through ranch lands and slumber lands and towering, glowering mountains. ' Then, of course, the Rhine, glorified -with myth and legend, sung and painted and made a pilgrimage spot by centuries of travelers, but presenting tn fact nothing* save its molderlng castles that permit it to compare scenically with .the river that flows at our door. A Beauty All Its Own. For the beauty of a river is like the beauty of a woman; it doesn’t depend ■upon a single feature. There has got Ito be a certain aliveness to a river that corresponds to intelligence in a face. Your mighty African river of the , solitudes hasn’t that. Nor has your giant stream of the West the charm thrown round the Hudson by centuries of human contact —adventure, struggle, change, adversity, prosperity, peace. Come with me, will you, for a little voyage from Desbrosses street to Albany? And from the economical vantagepoint of a $2, nine-hour trip, let us see some of the things that make this “Empire’’ river so lordly—and so human. At the left hand, as we start north, •re the Hoboken docks, not pretty perhaps, but touched with interest because of the huge interned German ships that had almost taken root at their piers. The sweet green promontory of Stevens Point, where the institute is, sticks out defiantly from between terminals and warehouses that try to choke it Yet the castlelike homestead of the Stevens family manages to keep its,look of aristrocratic serenity, despite the crowdings of comnierdalisrm , At Weehawken, where trolley cars now zigzag so nimbly up the heights, is the spot —then a picturesque and grassy ledge; now merely “opposite West Forty-second street”-—where Hamilton and Burr met on the “field of honor” in 1804.

The boat goes so fast that in a minute it seems we are passing Riverside drive, which some day will be conceded the loveliest street in the world. Now we pass the district of cliff dwellers—thousands of tall houses rising out of the trees, as it seems, from the river. To me these apartment houses, each one homing more families than some small villages, are a feature of thrills and beauty. Cliffs Little Changed. The refil, unspoiled loveliness of the river begins here, where the still rural looking Fort Washington point reaches out toward the magnificent rise of the Palisades at Fort Lee. Barring the few homes that now peep out through the trees at the top of- these 500-foot cliffs, there is not such a precious lot of difference beZ’tween how they look today and how they looked when George Washington and his staff watched from them the destruction of Fort Washington on the eastern heights nearly a century and a half ago and lined out a retreat through the heart of Jersey. These two forts were supposed to guard a barrier of sunken ships and ' logs planted in the river at this point to keep the British back. The appeal of the Phlisades is fresher each time you sail past them. As the steamer purrs along, you need only narrow your eyes a little to shut out things close at hand, and pretend

Palisades of the Hudson.

it is 1609, and that you see Indians lying prone upon the flat rocks high above the river, watching Hendrick Hudson beating northward in his tiny caravel. » Since the Palisades have become part of the state park, New Yorkers are getting better acquainted with them. But until lately hardly one person in a thousand knew the wooded wonders of this 16-mile strip, its primeval ravines, its streams and forests, its wildflowers and the fair fields that sweep back from the little old hamlets at the top. City's Big Playground. Artists hunted them out, and a few hardy campers explored the Wilderness they found. But to this day there is more untouched ground along these Palisades for" New Yorkers to play in than in any other territory within a hundred miles. Under the shaft-like walls, and close to the rim of the river, between Fort Lee and Piermont, is a row of tiny white tents with boats drawn up, gaily painted canoes and little sailboats. Bare-legged kiddies run out hoping for “waves” as our steamer passes, and the campers wave and halloo. On the right, the end of Manhattan island is marked by a high rise of wooded land and that famous creek in which was lost the intrepid Dutchman who tried to swim it “in spuyt den duyvel” to warn the farmers up country that the British had landed on Manhattan isle. Notwithstanding the squealmg railroads that now trestle it wnere it joins the Hudson, Spuyten Duyvel still keeps a good deal the look of a pretty country. Just north of Spuyten Duyvel is a mountainette, which used to be called Tibbet’s hill and had a fortification, now replaced by the tall shaft of the Hendrick Hudson mdnument. The story goes that the little Half MoOn was attacked at this point by Indians. Before the Majestic Palisades. The lovely wooded hillsides we now pass on the east bank are where the rich men of Riverdale have their homes and where the picturesque convent of’ Mount St. Vincent peeps out from the trees. If the day is clear you can glimpse a large castlelike house which was built by Edwin Forrest, famous tragedian of a generation ago. It now forms part of the convent, and Is headquarters for the American branch of the Sisters of Charity of St. Vincept. The Palisades now grow more and more majestic, and the east bank of the river is cool-looking and clad with trees through which the houses in the suburbs of Yonkers begin to peep. If you were tired and hot at the beginning of the trip, you are rested by this time despite yourself. There is something in the very widtlf of the Hudson and the calm of the great

to The west trnd - the vast sweep of water as, far ahead, it swells into the Tappan Zee, that blurs remembrance of city cares and makes body and mind relax. The boat puts in at Yonkers and gives you a chance to see a suburb that is a thriving city. You learn that this old Dutch town, only 17 miles from the battery, has 90,000 population and is full of lively business interests. On the Hudson’s west bank nestles the quaint, neat landing of Alpine, beginning at the river’s brim and straggling up the precipitous wooded hill. You can almost smell the_jdamp greenness of the forest, quiet and calm on the weekday, but abloom with picnic parties every Sunday from early morning till way past dark. For this is all state park property now, free to the people and protected from quarrymen. You can’t jjjjite see the village proper from the river, for it is at the top of the cliff, a bit back from the brink, a sweet, rustic hamlet, as remote from the world as though it were indeed an Alpine community. Perched on the green brow of the Palisades at this point are some lovely houses, and two dr three artists' studios clinging to the woodsy walls further down. North of Yonkers and Alpine the country is more beautiful with every

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN. RENSSELAER. IND.

Cinderella Without the Ball

By George Haskell

(Copyright. ISI7. by W. G. Chapman.) •» “Oh. come on Em! It’s going to be a dandy party!” The girl looking over the fence wad urging another who paused a moment in the business jif hanging clothes on The line to answer: “i can’t Grace—but Dora is going.” “Yes, Dora’s always 'going,* and you’re staying—staying home, and doing the work.” ~ “Oh, well, I’m trying to get a dress made. When it’s done, I’ll be ‘going.’ ” Emily laughed cheerfully, gave a towel a vigorous snap, and hung it on the line. She was thin and rather colorless, but her hair scintillated in the shifting sunlight and had copper and gold glints. The fence of the back yard in the village street was not too high for those who passed to look over, but, Emily was not ashamed of her homely work, they were not able to hire it done, her mother had never been used to hard labor of any kind, and as for her younger sister, Dora, it was quite out of the question to think of her doing the family wash. Dora was eight vears younger than Emily, very pretty, very self-willed, and very selfish. The last two traits were probably owing to the spoiling she had received from both mother and sister. Two children Emily and Dora had died, and Dora was the apple of her mother’s eye. She had lived in luxury, and when the crash had come, followed soon by the death of her husband, she had taken the little that brought in a very slender income, and had settled down to live upon it with no idea of trying to increase it with any labor of her ow’n. She was of the helpless, unthinking kind who will sometime, somewhere, have to experience a heavy jolt to a weaken them to the purpose of their being here on this terrestrial globe. “ When” Emily w’as seventeen she had taken up the burden of attempting to better conditions, and make the little income go farther by doing the heavy

“I Know You Are Worth All the Doras in Creation."

work that a woman had been paid to do. Next she saved dressmaking bills by making her own clothes, and eventually those of her mother and sister. , It is always the people who are willing who are allowed to carry the burdens of those who are not. There has been known, however, to be such a thing as “the last straw.” But Emily gave no indications of the last straw till a cheery voice hailed her over the fence some minutes after her girl friend had passed on. A pair of merry eyes belonging to a tanned, honest face, not especially handsome, but invitingly reliable, smiled at her under the raised hat. Emily embarrassed and rather miserable at the thought of her appearance in the old, faded working garb, could only stammer out: “Oh! Mr. Hale!” “You’ll be there tonight at the Stoner party, won’t you?” he asked. “No. I think not. But my sister’s going.” “Why don’t you go?” he persisted, Emily thought she even a tinge of disappointment in the ‘ tone. She pushed a wet sheet along on the line to better see his face, and said: “Well I—l can’t explain just now, but I can’t go.” She felt that any plea of ill health would be slightly incongruous with her vigorous handling of the week’s wash. She could not tell him the real reason, ancFTHth an expression of regret Hale passed c|n. The wet towel hung limply in hepnand, and the wind catching an dhfastened sheet, it slid to the ground unnoticed by the girl.> Youth, the desire for companionship, the call of the heart were all having their say. Their demand was Insistent." .They did not even ask why they should be denied. : v Emily had met Hale only two or three times, but she had been strongly attracted to him. When her mother

called from the doorway; and she saw the sheet on the ground she had suddenly a glimmering realization that he meant more to her than she had sup- - posed. —-—. —“—■ — In the cool sitting room Emily dropped down on a chair. “I wonder if that blue voile would look well enough for me to’ wear tonight,” she said. Her sister Dora looked up from the novel she was reading, comfortably stretched out on a couch. “Oh Em, that old thing!” she exclaimed in a distressed tone. “Emily! yo« would disgrace the family in that dress!” chimed in the mother from her corner by the window where some stockings were receiving some desultory darning. This aspect of the case had not before occurred to Emily, but she at once saw the force of the argument. “I thought I might freshen it up a bit,” she answered apologetically. “But if you think it looks so shabby, why I’ll just let it go.” “You must get at your clothes dear, and fix up something to wear, so that you’ll be ready for the next party.” Emily made no answer. She knew that the time for getting at her own wardrobe was not likely to come very soon with all the sewing for her mother and sister that was already laid out for her. She arose a trifle wearily, and went into the kitchen to prepare the meal. Dora came home from the party flushed and excited with the “dandy time” she had had. Howard Hale had danced with her more than with any other girl; and both women saw quite plainly that something like a romance had begun under their own roof. To the elder sister the knowledge came with a chilling, benumbing weight. She tried to set it aside, and be glad of the other’s happiness, but her own heart cried out in revolt. She saw before her a battle to be fought to gate the victory of renunciation.

After Hale’s first call at which etiquette required the presence of the family, Emily invariably left the field clear for her sister, who had intimated that she wished this. Emily was finding the battle with herself an unusually hard one. The more deeply she found she loved this man, the more strongly came the temptation to revolt; but her mother was so pleased, and her sister so happy how could she reveal her feelings. Besides Hale evidently loved her sister, andhad not even thought of her, so she hid all evidences of the struggle under a quiet exterior. One evening Hale came when Doni was out, as she had not expected him. Emily met him with the information. After a few minutes talk hq said: “Will you answer me frankly, truthfully one thing?” In surprise she agreed to his request. “Why do you z always fly from me as though I were a pestilence?” he asked. “Why—why, you come to see my sister —” /‘No. I don’t.” he broke in. “I come to see you I Don’t you think I know you are worth all the Doras in creation. You’re courageous, unselfish little woman !” At this Emily quite broke down, sobbing out something rather unintelligible. But holding her close against his heart, he seemed to understand.

JUST WHAT CREATES ECHO

Under Proper Conditions Any Kind of a Sound Wave Will Be Effectively Reproduced. An echo is caused when the waves of air which you create when you shout are thrown back again when they are stopped by something they encounter and are turned back without changing their shape. Any kind of a sound wave will make an echo in this way. You see, you can have no sound of any kind without sound waves. You could not make a sound if there were no air. Now, when you shout, you start a series of sound waves that go out from you in every direction and they spread away from you in circles just like the rings or ripple that are caused when you drop a stone into a pool of water. You can prove this to yourself easily by having one, two, three or more of your friends stand around you in a large circle. You can place them as far away from you as your shout can be heard if you wish. When you shout, each of your friends will hear the shout at the same time, provided, of course, they are at equal distance from you. ' Sometimes these scMnd waves as they go away from you In circles strike objects that turn the waves “back unbroken Just as they came to them. The waves will bounce back jusf like a rubber ball from a wall against which it has been thrown and this is the echo. However, some things that the sound waves strike break up these waves entirely and others partially. ? No doubt you have sometimes noticed when you shout you hear a distinct echo and that at other times, standing in the same place, you cannot hear any echo, although you shout in the same way. This is explained by the fact that at times conditions oi the air are Such that no echo is produced while at other times a perfect echo results. —Book of Wonders.

No Time for Debate.

Alfred —Please don’t put me off any longer, Mary. Will you marry me? Mary Alfred. , I hardly know, whether I love you well enough or not. Besides Alfred (looking at his watch)-*—Mary, the last train Is due In just three minutes. Yes pr—Mary—Yes, Alfred. x

TRACTOR BIG ASSISTANCE IN FARMING

TRACTIRS DID EVERYTHING HORSE CAN DO.

The national farm tractor demonstration at Fremont, Neb., brought home to the thousands of people who attended It the great assistance those machines can render in farming. They will be of vital importance in speeding up the production of foodstuffs now that the burden of helping feed our allies rests on the.farmers of America besides that of feeding ourown people at home and our soldiers fighting abroad. _ The tractors at this show did everything that horses can do on a farm and they did it better and faster. One tractor pulled three plows with ease, another performed the operation of disking and sowing the seed at. the same operation. Still another, driven with lines like a horse, drew a binder. The one shown in this photograph is pulling the disks and harrowing the ground at the same operation. America has got to increase her production of food to insure victory. The use of machines like this tractor is an important means to that end.

DRESSING OF LIME APPLIED TO MEADOW

Material Replaces That Which Has Been Used Up in Nat* ural Decomposition. (By W. B. GILBERT.) Meadow land frequently dressed with farmyard manure will at certain intervals respond to a dressing of lime. The lime applied replaces that which.has been, used up in the natural In the soil; that which has been lost in the drainage water, and also that which has been carried off yearly in the hay crop and, in the cases of grazing, by the animals. During recent years a form of lime, called ground lime, has been put upon the market. It is produced by grinding cob lime by machinery to a very fine powder, and it is thus made possible to broadcast Mme in a caustic condition and in a finely divided form over the land. The chemical changes previously described will be repeated with this material and the ground lime will become changed to carbonate of lime. Ground lime is applied in quantities varying from five hundredweight to twenty hundredweight per statute acre, and when put on with a slag sower can be uniformly distributed. The question which at once becomes apparent is whether limestone rock, carbonate lime ground to a fine powder and evenly distributed over meadow land might not give results equal to those produced by cob lime and ground lime, and thus dispense with the expensive process of burning the rock.— _~

In considering the results. It must always be remembered that the action of lime in the soil is very slow and is extended over a number of years; consequently but few conclusions can be drawn until more hay crops from these plots have been weighed. The advantage, however, It will be noticed, rests with the finely divided varieties of lime, and undoubtedly the application of lime to the soil in a finely divided condition Is attended with more Immediate results than where cob lime is employed. It is remarked: (1) In districts where, owing to nearness of limekilns, it is more convenient to use cob lime. It is essential that the lime be spread from the 3 as soon as fallen, and also, in to insure more effective dlstributicgi, the light harrows should be passed over about two or three days afterward, so as to scatter any lumps that may not have fallen in the heaps. (2) Ground lime should not be delivered to the farm until all arranger ments have been made for its application, as loss will be occasioned by the bursting of the bags. (3) When ground limestone is used it should contain a high percentage of carbonate of lime.

INSECT DOES VAST AMOUNT OF INJURY

Corn Ear Worm Does Much Harm to Garden and Field Crops —Fall Plowing Urged. The corn ear-worm does a vast amount of injury each year to valuable garden Xndfleld crops. It is practically the only Insect which injures the ears of field and It is decidedly the. worst Insect pest of sweet corn. This worm does considerable damage to tomatoes by boring into the green and ripening fruit and is known to the grower as the tomato fruit-worm; It bores into the “bud” or unfolding leaves of tobacco and is known to the planter as the tobacco

bud-worm; and it is also one of the serious pests of cotton in the South; where it is called the cotton boll-.worm from its habit of boring into the cot-ton-bolls. The full-grown worms are variable in markings and color, but usually they are a dull greenish or brownish color, with indistinct - stripes or spots, and are about 1% inches long. Winter is passed in the pupa or resting stage in the soil. When the worm becomes full grown it burrows down in the soil about three inches and constructs a tube or gallery nearly to the surface of the ground for the use of the moth which will come out later. The worm retires to the bottom of the gallery and changes to the pupa or resting stage. It is in this stage and under such surroundings that thfe insect passes the winter. According to T. J. Talbert of the University of Missouri College of Agriculture, one of the best means of control is fall plowing and harrowing or disking, in order to break up the opening tubes or exit galleries of the soil. This also brings the resting stage (pupa) of the insect nearer the surface, where the alternate freezing and thawing during' the winter will have a greater effect in destroying it. Fall plowing and cultivation have been found almost 100 per cent effective for the area covered.

BIG IMPORTANCE OF LEGUME INOCULATION

Soil Fertility Increased by Plowing Under Leguminous Crop, Says an Expert. For centuries legumes have been used in crop rotation because they enrich the soli. Why alfalfa, the clovers and other similar crops make the soil richer w’as discovered about 30 years ago, when It was shown that legumes can use the nitrogen Of the atmosphere w’hile other plants must take - It from the soil. By plowing under a leguminous crop, soil fertility may be increased by that nitrogen taken from the air. The leguminous plant, however, can get Its nitrogen from the air only through bacteria, living on its roots. Certain bacteria In the soil enter the small, roots and cause them to swell Into wartlike growths of nodules. Inside of these nodules millions of the legume bacteria grow and these are agents that take the nitrogen from the air and give it to the plants. Without bacteria the legume plant will not use nitrogen from the air, but from the soil the same as any other crop. To use atmospheric nitrogen as fertilizer one must make certain that the proper bacteria are present in the soil. This can be done by inoculating, which consists in applying the bacteria to the seed or scattering them on the field. The bacteria can be had in soil where a legume grew recently and produced nodules, or in pure cultures grown In special laboratories. The use of the soil is as effective as the pure culture, according to W. A. Albrecht of the University of Missouri College of Agriculture, but often a properly Inoculated soil cannot be had.

GOOD QUALITIES OF COWPEAS

Spidhdld Vegetable for Table Use and Fine for “Snaps" in Dry StateRaise Some. If ymj have never recognized the splendid qualities of the cowpea as a vegetable, grow some for table use thia year and be convinced. They are fine for use as “snaps” or in the dry state. Some of the good varieties for the table are Crowder’s Sugar, Lady, Blackeye and Wonderful. For full information on the growing and use of the cowpea, write the United States department 'of Agriculture, Washington, D. C., for Farmers’ Bulletin No. 318.