Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 65, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 26 March 1918 — Page 3

Mrs. Bowser Tells It

Bowser Goes Out to Hunt the Chestnut

••••••••••••••••••••••••A* per Syndicate.) By M. QUAD. For several days I have observed a Ispirit of restlessness about Mr. Bowser, and I had made up my mind that Jhe was longing for a trip out into the country. In his conversations he spoke iof the' chestnuts and acorns; he menftioned the rabbit; he spoke of the fall japple, and so I knew that he would itake a day off soon and refresh his .boyhood memories. Mr. Bowser came down to breakjfast one morning prepared for a jaunt iand he said to me: “I think I will take a little trip out Into the country today. I want to i saunter around and see farm scenes, il want to pick up the great brown !chestnuts under the trees. I want to |plck the golden pippin right off the apple tree. I want to buy a quart of ibuttermilk of some farmer and drink |lt down without stopping to breathe, jit seems as if it would almost make me over to spend the day out in the country.” “There’s nothing to hinder you from i going,” I replied. “In fact, I want you

"He Ran Into a Currant Bush and Got Tangled Up."

to go. for you look a little weary. Will you bring home some chestnuts and apples?” “You bet your life, and don’t forget to let me take a basket along. Maybe I will gather some mushrooms, also. At any rate, I will make a day of It and come home feeling as frisky as a darling colt.” “You will telephone if anything happens to you? Most of the farmers have telephones.” “Oh, nothing will happen to telephone about. It’will be a very quiet day with me.” In half an hour Mr. Bowser was off, carrying a market basket on his arm. He was as pleased as a boy on his way td a circus. It was about two o’clock in the afternoon when the telephone rang me up and a strange voice asked: “Is this Mrs. Bowser?” “Yes.” . “Mrs. Samuel Bowser?” “Yes, that is correct. Who are you, please?” “My name Is Ballard, and I’m a farmer about ten miles from the city on the old Boston Can’t you take the trolley car, which runs right by my door, and come out here?” “But why should I come out there?” I asked, a chill of fear coming over me. “Because there’s a short, fat, baldheaded man here who says he’s Samuel Bowser, your husband. He isn’t dead, so you needn’t be alarmed. He has simply met with an Incident and maybe you will have to stay for a day or fwo, but I’ll make It as pleasant as I can. Mr. Bowser sent you' his love and thinks you’d better come out.” “Do you mean that an accident has happened to Mr. Bowser?” I asked. “Well, you might call it an accident, but I call it an Incident. An accident is where you cut your foot with the ax, but Mr. Bowser hasn't cut his foot. An accident is when you fall out of a tree and break both legs, and Mr. Bowser has had no fall and no broken legs. You had better put on your bonnet and come out.” I tried hard to get the farmer to tell me just what had happened, but he seemed to have good reasons for holding back the truth. This Increased my fears, of course, and I soon got ready for a trip. All the way out to Farmer Ballard's I was so pale and nervous that allthe passengers on the car noticed me, and three or four women came over to me and said they hoped that nothing serious had occurred. The

farmer was at his gate as I got off the car, and the first question I asked him was: • “Is Mr. Bowser dead?" “Why, no, ma’am,” he replied. “Come right in and you’ll see him alive. No need to be alarmed about I went in and. found Mr. Bowser in bed. That is, I supposed it was Mr. Bowser, for it was some time before I was certain of his identity. I had a few words to say in praise of the man and he went on: “I have four hives of bees. I wanted to move them to a new place to pass the winter. I mentioned it to Mr. Bowser and he offered to help me. Two men can carry a beehive very nice. All you have to do is to place a piece of paper over the hole where they come in and go out. Then you can carry the hive between you. Mr. Bowser told me that he was not afraid of bees, but he had always loved them and they seemed to love him. He was very anxious to help me, and, of course, I was willing he should. We had to pass over some rough ground to reach the new place and I warned him that we must go slow and carefully. We had got half the distance with the hive all right when he strikes his foot against something in the grass and down he goes and down goes the hive, for I couldn’t manage it alone. You can imagine, ma’am, what happened then.” '“Yes,” I said. “The hive went down with a crash, and the bees came pouring out. I was scared, which I shouldn’t have been, and I took to my heels. Mr. Bowser got up and took to his heels also, but he ran into a currant bush

and got tangled up. The bees didn’t see anybody else around, and so they went for him. There were 5,000 of them, I reckon, but not more than 1,900 got a bite at him. I rescued him as soon as I could and got him into the house and undressed him and put him to bed, and there he is, lying before your face and eyes. That’s about all, ma’am, except that he doesn’t talk much, and the reason is that his lips are swelled out like a stuffed chicken.” Mr. Bowser had various swellings that stood out like toads on a log. Just how many, I did not dare count. His eyes were shut, and I could not

“I Want to Pick Up the Great Brown Chestnuts Under the Trees."

offer him a hand glass that he might see what a beauty he was. The only thing to do was to apply things to take out the poison and reduce the swellings, and to help the farmer as I could until his wife got back. I stayed there all that night and most of the next day, and, when I left for home, Mr. Bowser could partly open one eye and utter grunts through his swollen lips. It was four days before he came home, and then several passengers on the car asked him if a tree had‘fallen all over him. He didn’t say much when he reached the house. AU he did say was: “Mrs. Bowser, if this thing occurs again I will see my lawyer and you will see yours, and we will arrange for a quiet divorce. We have reached the dead line at last!” I realized that Mr. Bowser must blame someone beside himself, and I didn’t “sass” back a single word. \

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN. RENSSELAER. TNT).

DURING THE SNOW SEASON ON WEST FRONT

Motorcycle well loaded with American soldiers making its way through a enowstorm back of the lines in France.

PROCESSION RIVAL OF PIED PIPER’S

Five Hundred Little Children, Refugees From Belgium, Tramp Into Allied Village. LED BY POILB TRUMPETERS Worn by Hunger, Tired, All Sing National Anthem—Big Celebration at „ Evian for Them —Glad to Escape Germans. Evian-les-Bains. —Five hundred little children, a trifle tired-looking, perhaps a little hysterical because worn by the strain of three days on the train, tramped joyously up the street, their wooden sabots pattering a triumphant tattoo on the hard pavement, skipping, some of them, to the blare of the trumpeters who led the way, and crying “Vive la France” at every welcoming tri-color. They rushed up by dozens to shake hands with anyone who was on the street to see them at five O’clock in the morning. Each of them was dressed in his or her Sunday best, and toting a homemade pack. All the time/fhe six old ex-Poilus tooted away on their trumpets as they led the bobbetty procession. It reminded one of the Pied Piper who piped strange tunes in Hamelin and led away all the village children when their elders refused to pay him for ridding the town of its rats.

These trumpeters were leading Belgian children to a warm meal at Evian. Five hundred children, who had left their mothers and fathers in the land where food is scarce, were on their way to a big refuge in the old Chartreuse monastery at Le Giandier. There the Belgian government and the American Red Cross have fitted up a home for a thousand refugees. Not Enough to Eat. They were not' orphans —just children who were not getting enough to eat. Back in Belgium a Belgian committee had picked them out as undernourished and asked their mothers to let them go to France, where wheat and sugar are not too plenty, but where the rations are more liberal. The commission for relief in Belgium brought something to them in Belgium. but. especially since the Americans left, it had to be stretched a long way. “Aren’t you hungry?” some one asked one of the Belgian children. “Why, no,” the ten-year-old replied. “I ate yesterday.” The trumpeters piloted them to the Casino, where the women of livian had laid out a breakfast. Six or seven children, too weak to stand the mile’s walk, were carried in the big American Red Cross ambulances that transport the old men and women week-

SAVES SEAMAN’S LIFE

Amateur Surgeon Amputates Leg With Clasp Knife. Steward I* Decorated for One of Most Brave and Remarkable Deeds of the War. London. —For amputating a man’s leg with a claspknife but still saving his life, Alfred William Furneux. a chief steward in the mercantile marine, has been decorated by the king. The story of his heroic conduct and skill form'one of the most remarkable of the many tales told since the beginning of the war. The following is an account of the services for which he received the Albert medal in gold: In April, 1917, the steamship in which Mr. Furneaux was serving was torpedoed by the enemy, and the legs of a Lascar, who was on the spot where certain deck plates had buckled and broken, were caught so firmly be-

MAKES SWEATERS FROM RAISING SHEEP ON UP

Seattle, Wash.—Six heavy sweaters which recently were given to the Sedro-Woolley branch of the Red Cross were made at home in the old-fash-ioned way. Mrs. S. D. Benson raised the sheep from which the wool was taken on her farm at Siskiyou. While experimenting with bark preparations Mrs. Benson discovered a way to dye the yarn in the regulation shades of gray and khaki, and finally knit the sweaters herself.

days, when the trains bring in * the French repatriates. There was a big celebration in the Casino. The mayor of Evian made a speech, but most of the children were obviously much too tired to try to puzzle out his big words. They were much more interested in the band. The band played '‘The Savoyard,” the anthem of Evian’s mountain province, and then it played the “Brabanconne,” the. national hymn of Belgium. Those children stood up on the tables to applaud and wave their handkerchiefs! They knew it, every one of them, although they had not been allowed to sing it out loud for three years. Some of them were so small that they must have learned it behind closed shutters. Off in a corner half a dozen little girls joined hands and danced.

Too Tired for Candy. But they were tired out; there were one or two who were too tired to eat the candy placed beside them —and that is very tired. And in the middle of the second verse of the “Brabanconne,” one small son of Belgium laid his head on his arms and went to sleep. And before the “Marseillaise” was sung there were sleepy little groups, oblivious to the noise about them, at every table. It was dark when they entered the Casino —inuch too dark for the pictures that ought to have been taken of them—and it was still very gray twilight when they came out. One of the American Red Cross nurses who was helping care for them saw two little girls arguing sleepily about something or other. “N’est-ce pas?” the tinier of the two said as she came up. “C’est le matin; •c’est pas le soir?” —“It is morning, isn’t it? It’s not evening?” Later, when the children were passing the American Red Cross doctor, who examined them for contagious diseases, the nurse learned more. Lui cienne and Louise, sisters, came from

tween the plates that he would have gone down with the ship. Mr. Furneaux. however, went to the man’s assistance and managed to get one leg out. but the other was nearly severed through above the knee. Finding it impossible to pull the leg out, Mr. Furneaux amputated it with an ordinary clasp knife and then carried the man to a boat. When In the boat he dressed the wound as well as possible and gave the life belt be was wearing to the wounded man. Mr. Furneaux also rendered first aid in the boat to another Lascar who was badly scalded. Mr. Furneaux was in imminent danger of losing his life in rendering the service.

POOR LUCK AS STOWAWAY

Japanese Laborer Tries to Steal Passage and Make* Trip With Hands Tied. San Francisco. —Because he tried to steal passage on a Japanese liner from the Orient to America, a Japanese laborer was forced to make almost the

-near Namur. Their father had worked in a Belgian factory until the Germans took it over; then he quit. He did not get enough to eat, and last winter he died. Their mother worked in one of the municipal kitchens and made a bare living so, but not quite enough for all three—so she sent them out to France to grow fat and happy while she toils on in the soup kitchen. Lucienne and Louise seemed a bit weepy as they told their story, but they brightened quickly. It is always morning if one is young enough. “We’re going to good friends,” they announced. ~ ' ' - “Do you know where you are going?” “No,” they said; “but it’s sure to be like this, and they're going to be good friends.”

CARPET BAG AGAIN IN VOGUE

Scarcity of Leather Brings Back Ancient Satchel, Says Chicago Merchant. New York. —The high cost and shortage of leather will be responsible for a revival of the old-fashioned carpetbag, according to J. N. Daley, a leathermerchant of Chicago. Mr." Daley declares that the carpet bag already is appearing in some of the western cities he has just visited. They are proving popular, and he expects to see them in the East shortly. “The war,” says Mr. Daley, “is going to revive a lot of discarded'necessities of our forefathers. The carpet bag will be one of the first. The shortage of leather will eventually preclude the making of leather valises and grips if it continues, and there will be nothing else left but the old carpet bag—and it may prove just as serviceable as the more modern equipment.” .

HELPS DIRECT RAILROADS

Miss Frances Hawthorne Brady, daughter of Thomas Grayson Brady of Washington, D. C., is the first and only woman on the staff of the director general of railroads, William G. McAdoo. Miss Brady’s capabilities make her a most handy person in any organization where directing ability and creative ideas are needed. Miss Brady wjjs'selected because of the ability and efficiency she has shown in Liberty loan work in the treasury. She is the second appointee of Mr. McAdoo as director general of railroads. Since leaving a finishing school in Washington Miss Brady has been prominent in all the affairs of the younger set. but when the war started she felt the call for patriotic duty and offered her services to the government.

Conductorettes Capable.

“New York. —Three hundred women conductors on New York street cars are making good. President Theodore P. Shonts of the Interborough Railroad company, has announced that the conductorettes are as efficient as men, equally honest and more polite.

entire passage with his hands tied behind his back. When the steamer reached a Pacific port and quarantine officers went aboard, the stowaway was found and ordered frnmediatelj released. He had lost control of his hands and arms ofter twenty-one days in the toils, and was sent to a hospital for medical treatment.

Robs Peter to Pay Paul.

Watertown. N. Y. —An eleven-inch piece of bone taken from his leg has been grafted into the spine of George H. Wallace. The insertion of the .leg bone, running from the middle to the back of the neck, has completely cured Wallace of tuberculosis of the spine, from which he had suffered for a long time.

Will Have Rabbits’ Feet.

Hutchinson. Kan. —Kansas negroes who go against the Boches will all have the famous darky charm, the left hind foot of a rabbit, to keep him safe from Teuton bullets. K. C. (Kroon) Beck, “rabbit king” of Kansas, has agreed to furnish every negro drafted maa in the state a rabbit foot.

"BETTER BLIND THAN DEAR"

Scientific Writer Pcinte Out Why tftfi Former Affliction I* Less Hard to Bear. _ Scientists have shown that sound not only informs the intellect, as does sight, but that, much in excess of that sense, it excites feelings—that is, sound pure and simple has a specific * relation -to feelings widely different from that of sight. Its primary effect was the creating of moods, Margaret Baldwin writes in the Atlantic magazine. This being so, the simple fact is that sound has far more to do fundamentally with originating our emotions, or how we feel from day to day, than has what we see. It should be said in passing, that there is very little recognition of this fact by the person with normal hearing. Sight and sound are so interwoven for him that he does not discriminate asr'to what belongs intrinsically to each in the province of feelings. It is only when the two are clearly separated, as in deafness or blindness, that experience takes note of what belongs to the one and the other. A scientific writer points out that we can see with indifference the writhings of a suffering animal that is still, but that, if there are cries of pain, it produces emotions at once. We are distressed. In reports of terrible marine disasters, it is almost never said by people that they can never forget the sights they saw, but always that they can never forget the cries of the drowning. . Although one would hardly hesitate to say that ’ the excess of the blind man’s calamity over that of the deaf man is sufficient to overbalance this elemental function of sound to produce moods, yet the universal fact remains that the blind are more cheerful than the deaf.

NOTHING BUT SHEER WISDOM

Possibly Aunty’s Idea In Burning Chicken Feathers Was to Destroy Circumstantial Evidence. The dainty and winsome heiress of a Kentucky planter, recently graduated from a fashionable northern seminary, was devoting the morning of the first day of her return to the old homestead renewing acquaintance with her father’s darky retainers “down among the quarters.” As she entered one of the cabins she saw old Aunt Martha, born in slavery during the life of the young lady’s grandfather, bending over a broad log fire, carefully burning, piece by piece, a bunch of chicken feathers. “Aunt Martha,” inquired the young lady, after watching the work of the ex-slave a few moments in silence, “why do you burn those feathers so carefully and systematically? Is it because of some religious idea or a superstition?” “No Mlsstus Lucy,” came the answer from the deliberate old woman, as she watched the last telltale feather crumple into nothing. “ ’Taln’t no qigion an’ ’tain’t.nnffin tuh do wid no sewpustishums. It’s wisdom. Jes plain, out-an’-out, wisdum.”

Clever Fox Sparrow.

The fox sparrow prides himself, doubtless, because he is bigger than most of his American brothers. He is only a bit of a bird, at tha.t, but song sparrow, white-throat, grass finch and a dozen or so of the others doubtless look on their fox-coated relative’s additional inch as an ell, with something thrown in for good measure. The junco, the little slate-colored snowbird, a sparrow after his kind also, frequently accompanies the fox sparrow on his travels. There is a suspicion which is hard to lose that the fox sparrow jaunts along with the junco solely to make his own song secure among the acknowledged melodies, for the junco, while an insistent performer, pjpes an attenuated tune.

California Has Jap Village.

Few people realize that in the United States there is a village composed entirely of Japanese, who live their lives just as they did before leaving the Flowery kingdom. This quaint spot of Interest is north of the long pier, a mile from Santa Monica, Cai. Here is the home of a number of Japanese fishermen. Their native dress, food and the daily routine of their lives are carried out as though the little village were on the far shore of Nippon. On Sundays are to be seen the native sports of the Japanese. The geisha girls serve tea and bonbons to visitors, while the young men display their prowess at wrestling, jiu-jitsu and. other Oriental pastimes.—Los Angeles Times. • .

Chief Executives and the Press.

When John Adams became president* in 1797, be was even more severely attacked In the press than Washington had been. But his administration fought the attacks. Armed by the sedition law, which was passed the following year, it sought to annihilate the papers which it could not force to surrender. In the fight, which lasted four years, the people rallied to the support of the papers and defeated Adams in the election of 1800 by putting Thomas Jefferson in the presidential chair.

Good Cause.

"I hear that De Smythe's efforts t« trace his ancestors have been suspend* -ed.” “I suppose he found some of the an. cestors were suspended, too.”