Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 153, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 9 July 1918 — Page 2

Dawn's Early Light

By FRANK RIGNEY

{Sprrtaht. Newip*P« Union.) Six row® of stars, eight in a row. Torty-eight white stars twinkling on ■a blue square. Seven long lines of rod and six of white rippling, waving, gathering up and flying out straight again. A setting sun sending out red beams of light that mingled with and faded away among the early peeping whirs far overhead dipped a parting salute to Old Glory. Old Glory, illumined by the red golden rays, looking more resplendent and glorious than ever, waved back an acknowledgment Such was the picture Jack Cody gazed on. Jack, a fine, hearty, cleancut boy of fifteen years, was the son of a lumberman and lived in a small wooden house on the outskirts of a village that was situated away off ever so far from trolley cars, subways and skyscrapers. Jack was a boy of the woods. The forest was for him school and playground and was frequently his bedroom. This particular June evening Jack, routing after a strenuous day, was sitting on a pile of lumber ariff gazing at the flagpole newly erected on the “town hall.” News, a speedy traveler, where telephones, papers and crowds mix, seemed to slow up and get down to a crawl when it journeyed toward Jack’s town. It had to work miles upstream against rolling logs, along old, rocky trails and through long stretches of woods, lakes and other things that go to make up a virgin country. This time it had put on a little extra speed, being helped along by some surveyors who had come as the advance guards of a party of railroad engineers and workmen. The news was big news. It was the president’s war declaration, and Jt had the Milage buzzing with excitement Ti}e surveyors had brought the flag along „ and one of them had left behind him a pencil, colored blue at one end and red at the other. Jack was the lucky finder of the pencil and with it he was endeavoring on a piece of white wrapping paper to portray the scene spread before him. The trees, hills, houses and view in general proving too much for him, he concentrated on the flag. “Forty-eight stars and thirteen stripes,” said Jack. “Gosh, but it is some flag! I wonder who invented itr

TTIr picture finished, he climbed down from the log pile and wandered towards the “town hall” to proudly display to some of his boy friends his copy of Old Glory. From nowhere in particular, similar to that mysterious place from which conjurers produce curds and rabbits. Jack’s friends produced pieces of paper of various shades and shapes and the young artist was surrounded by a noisy crowd shouting, “A flag for me, Jack!” “Make me one 1” “Do one for me I" Across the main street, the one and only street of the village, was a group of men quietly discussing the news and asking questions of an elderly man whose appearance showed him to be a newcomer to the place. The commotion created by the clamoring boys brought the quiet discussion of the men to an end and the stranger strolled over to know what the uproar meant “Good 1” he exclaimed, when he found out “Great boys, great I That’s the spirit boys,” he said, “but easy there, fellows, until I ask you a few questions. What are you going to do with your flags?” "Stick It in my window," shouted one boy. “Paste it on the wall over my bed between Lincoln and Washington," said another —tnd so on until it seemed that the ll’ile village Would be papered from end to end with the flags that Jack had not yet drawn. “Fine!" said the Inquirer, “Fine! Let me'ask you, boys, now that I know what you are going to do with your flag, what you know about your flag— and what you are going to do tot your flag? I ask you what you are going to do?" > A silence that could be almost heard descended on the crowd and the boys looked uneasily at each other. “I didn’t know that the flag wanted me to do anything for it,” spoke up Jack, much to the relief of his friends, as the stranger’s attention was drawn from them and directed to Jack. “Come into the hall, my boy, get your friends to round up a few of the men, as many as they can, and let them all come, and Til-try and tell you and your friends a little story of tte flag waving up there on the pole.” Very quickly the big room filled and it seemed as though Jack would have to get busy penciling out “Standing Boom Only" notices, when the man who called the meeting had commenced his story. There is no occasion to follow in detail all he told the men and boys of the Stars and Stripes, for that would be telling you something, friend reader, that you already know forwards and backwards. Sufficient to say that he Commenced with the tale of Betsy Boss and the first flag, the adoption on June 14, 1777, by congress of the Stars and Stripes; that be told stories of countless heroes whose lives were given up so that Old Glory might ever wave free, the emblem of liberty to all; that he ex-

plained the wearing of the colore and the high ideals that they represented. “it is glorious to die for the flag," he said, “but equally glorious to live for it, and that living for it means living for America, working and striving unceasingly for the betterment of all, ‘One for all, all for one.’" A powerful full-house chorus rendering “The Star Spangled Banner” under the leadership of the stranger brought the Informal gathering to a most enthusiastic end. Jack was impressed very, very much and strolled home lost in deep thought. A person walking dose by Jack would have heard him muttering to himself, “Gee!" and "Gosh!" • • • ■ • • • • Boom! Boom! Ziz! Ziz! Zip! Bang! Boom! Crash! Bang! Jack never heard such a tremendous noise before. Rushing to his bedroom window, he gazed awestruck at the sight that presented itself to him. The village was in flames—men were rushing hither and thither shouting, calling and yelling for help. Jack dashed out, hatless and breathless. Bang! A huge shell tore away half of his little home. An awful rending, crashing upheaval followed. Flying stones and splinters knocked Jack all in a heap. “War!” he panted, “War!” Yes, it was war with a vengeance. Struggling to his feet, he raced onwards not knowing where to go, but onward, in hope of being able tb do something. Bang! Bang! All the while the most unearthly shrieking sounds of flying shells and bursting bombs, mixed with the rattle of machine guns and the frightful roaring of the heavy cannon. Khaki-clad figures rushed past Jack. A fearful explosion louder than any of the previous, left Jack dazed. At his feet fell one of the khaki figures, beating the ground, striking the earth with his hands and hoarsely calling in a choked, feeble voice for help. Jack was afraid at last Not of bayonets or bullets, but of the wounded man, for Jack did not know what to do with him or for him. *TII go and get help,” yelled Jack. He ran a few yards, stumbled and fell. Looking up, he saw right before him in the midst of the uniforms, Old Glory! “The flag was still there! Hurrah! Live for my country, die for my country,” flashed through Jack’s thoughts. “Now to help the wounded soldier, now to help—” A sudden stinging pain shot through Jack’s shoulder. He fell forward on his face. He essayed to rise, but the excruciating pain was too much for him. “Help! Help!” he called. A sound of running feet fell on his ears. Painfully turning his throbbing head. Jack saw some of his boy friends, gazing foolishly at him. “Please!” called Jack. “Please! Oh, you boobs do something—help, lift me,” but a near-by explosion had scattered the crowd. Toby, the village stray dog, dragged Itself by yelping and was soon lost to Jack’s view.' The flag! The flag! There it is again—this time in the hands of the newcomer, who holds it high in the air. The figure holding it wavers, staggers. Jack makes a supreme effort to rise, but for him comes oblivion. • • • *•••• It was a beautiful June morning when Jack awoke and sat up suddenly. He rubbed his shoulder, scratched his head and blinked his eyes. “Old Glory!" thought Jack, “Where is it? What has happened it?” The rising sun was paying its respects to Old Glory and Old Glory was returning the compliment. “You’re up early," said a voice that startled Jack into full wakefulness. It was the stranger.

“Yes,” said Jack, “I thought I—-that is—l thought—•" “What?” said the man, encouragingly. “That you were killed and that the flag—" went on Jack as he related his dream of the night before. The man laughed and asked Jack what he would do for the wounded soldier, for an injured dog, for himself. Jack didn’t know. He then asked Jack what he would do in ordinary peace times in emergency cases. Jack didn’t know. Neither did any of his boy friends, who were beginning to come out into the morning sunshine. “Don’t you see,” said the man, “that the best way to help your country and flag is by being prepared to serve? Be prepared for all cases and for all times. Even in this far-away town, at this present moment, you can be of service. Every man, woman, boy and girl and child from the top corner of Alaska to the other end of Florida can be of help if they only make a> little preparation. Help the men with their work, prepare the way for the great railroad that’s on its way to you and you will be serving your flag and country. “Say, fellows, let me tell you something. Bailroadlng is my big business, but my big pleasure is scouting. I’m high up in both jobs, and as I’m bringing my business to your town, there is no reason why I shouldn’t bring my pleasure. Who’s for scouting?” “Me for one,” said Jack. “Me, too,” chorused all the others. “Fine!" said the man, “and now listen. Hl fix it up in New York at headquarters that your town will be marked on the scout map. Til see that you get all necessary papers and information, and, by the way, I may have a job on the railroad of lettering or map drawing for a certain scout who has prepared himself with a red and blue pencil.” The crowd dissolved and Jack started home to his work softly singing to himself: "Oh, say, can you see by the dawn’s early light. What so proudly we balled at the twi_Mght> W glwpneF

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER, IND.

SOLDIERS HAVE OWN NEWSPAPER

“The Stars and Stripes” Devoted to Boys “Over There.” EDITORS PASS OUT ROASTS Repudiate Rumors That Men of American Expeditionary Force® Are Not Executing Their Duty. (From the Committee on Public Information, Washington, D. C.) The American expeditionary forces in France will have no drab days or dull hours if they share the brightness and breeziness of “The Stars and Stripes,” a seven-column, eight-page weekly edited by the soldier boys themselves, approved by the commander in chief, and printed in the Paris plant of the London Daily Mail. It’s a genuine home paper, with all the frankness of the West, the sincerity of the East, and the warmth of the South in its greeting. There is a metaphorical slap on the back for the fellow who wants the feel of a friendly palm; there is a two-handed welcome for the boy who needs a bracing message in his own tongue; there is encouraging news from away back home; there are earnest things for the thoughtful; much in lighter vein for those who want to forget their troubles; genuine humor wrung from the actualities of the war; a lot of excellent comic verse —in fact “The Stars and Stripes” is a sure-enough newspaper that “fills a long-felt want” and it will lighten the hearts and brighten the lives of our boys “over there.” The first page contains an admirable recent portrait of the commander in chief, accompanied by the following hearty indorsement of “The Stars and Stripes “In this initial number of The Stars and Stripes, published by the men of the overseas command, the commander in chief of the American expeditionary forces extends his greetings through the editing staff to the readers from the first line trenches to the base ports. “These readers are mainly the men who have been honored by being the first contingent of Americans to fight on European soil for the honor of their country. It is an honor and privilege which makes them fortunate above the millions of their fellow citizens at home. Commensurate with their privilege in being here is the duty which is. laid before them, and this duty will be performed by them as by Americans of the past, eager, determined, and unyielding to the last. ■ . “The paper, written by the men In the service, should speak the thoughts of the new American army and the American people from whom the army has been drawn. It is your paper. Good luck to it (Signed) “JOHN J. PERSHING, “Commander in Chief, A. E. F.”

Editorial Staff. The editorial and business staff are all members of the expeditionary forces: f Editorial: Guy T, Viskniski, second lieutenant infantry, N. A.; Charles P. Cushing, second lieutenant, U. S. M. C. R.; Hudson Hawley, private, M. G. Bn.; A. A. Wallgren, private U. S. M. C. Advertising: William K. Michael, first lieutenant infantry, U. S. R. The editors don’t waste any time in saying that the paper “is going to fill a long-felt want” but go right on and fill the hiatus. The salutatory puts the aims of “The Stars and Stripes” into the fewest possible words and they are worth reprinting: “TO THE COLORS! “With this issue the Stars and Stripes reports for active service with the A. E. F. It is your paper, and has but one ax to grind—the ax which our Uncle Samuel is whetting on the grindstone for use upon the august necks of the Hapsburgs and Hohenzollerns. “The Stars and Stripes is unique in that every soldier purchaser, every soldier subscriber, is a stockholder and a member of the board of directors. It isn’t being run for any individual’s profit, and it serves no class but the fighting men in France who wear the olive drab and the forest green. Its profits go to the company funds of the soldier subscribers, and the staff of the paper isn’t paid a sou. “If you don’t find in this, your own weekly, the things in which you are particularly interested, write to the editors, and if it is humanly possible they will dig up the stuff you want. There are so many of you over here now, and so many different sorts of you, that it is more than likely that some of your hobbies have been overlooked in this our first number. Let us know. “We want to hear from that artist in your outfit, that ex-newspaper reporter, that short-story writer, that company Tunny man,’ and that fellow who writes the verse. We want to hear from all of you—for the Stars and Stripes is your paper, first, last, and all the time; for you and for those of your friends and relatives to whom you will care to send it. • “The Stars and Stripes is up at the top o’ the mast for the duration of the war. It will try to reach everyone of you, every week—mud, shellholes, and fog notwithstanding. It will yield .rights of the roadway only to troops and ambulances, food, ammunition and - guns, and th? paymaster’s car. It has

a big job ahead to prove worthy of its namesake, but with the help of an of you, it will, in good old down-east parlance, "do its gol-dernd-est” to deliver the goods. So—Forward! MARCH!" To the Folks Back Home. The slanderous stories of drunkenness and disease among the American troops are deeply resented by the soldiers. They call every chaplain in the army, Protestant and Catholic, a® witnesses to prove the falsity of the charge; and “The Stars and Stripes” prints the following pathetic appeal to the folks back home: > “To the fathers and mothers, sisters and brothers, wives, sweethearts, and friends of the men in the American expeditionary forces: “We hear that you have been regaled with some alarming stories about us of the A. E. F. and our conduct here in France. In fact, some of those stories have been relayed to us, .and if they weren’t so far from the truth we might be, inclined *to get really mad. But knowing the authors of some of them —for some of the hysterical stripe have really been over here—our. first inclination is to laugh. “But, after all, it’s no laughing matter to be talked about behind our backs in such a reckless and irresponsible way by reckless and .Irresponsible people, though no doubt some of them have the best intentions in the world and think that they, and they alone, can save us. (They have probably told you that, and asked you to contribute money to their worthy cause, haven’t they?) What hurts most, however, is the thought that, though we know you are loyal to us and have the firmest of faith in us, perhaps these dire tales may have caused you anxiety, may even have caused you to believe that perhaps, after all, we had become a bit neglectful of our trust; and that, so believing, you might have been sorely, and entirely unduly, distressed in spirit, “Be assured that these sensational stories are nothing lj>ut myths. Absolutely nothing else. And we have the facts to prove that they are. Listen: Men on Good Behavior. “The percentage of venereal disease In this army of yours is three-tenths of 1 per cent—the smallest percentage on record for any army, or any civil population, in the world's history. It is a sober army, and a well-behaved one. The statistics in the possession of the judge advocate’s general’s department prove that there have been, in proportion, fewer cases of drunkenness, fewer breaches of .military discipline among its members than has been the case with any army whose records have been preserved. “As to conditions in general, both allied and neutral military observers have expressed themselves as astonish;ed at the remarkably good behavior of this army of yours. The world does move. Armies no longer live by forage, loot, and pillage; but even at that, this pay-as-you-go, behave-as-you-go American army has been a revelation to our European allies. “Take it all in all, these American expeditionary forces constitute an army which is in every way a worthy successor to the first army of liberty, whose commander was George Washington. It is proud of its heritage, proud of you people at home who are supporting it and who are backing it with your labor, your money, your hopes and your prayers, proud of the government that sped it on its way overseas, proud of the cause for which it is fighting—the greatest cause which any army was ever called upon to champion. It would rather rot under the soil of France than to do anything which would cast discredit on the homes it left, which would Impugn in any way the good name of the great people from whom it was recruited. “Bear all this in mind, good people back in God’s country, if you hear any more stories about us made up out of the same whole cloth. If by any chance any of you should hesitate to believe us, write to our commanders, our chaplains, our doctors—anybody in authority. They will back us to the limit —and we, for our part, will guarantee to come home to you clean in body, exalted in mind and heart, and with the record behind us of a man’s size job manfully done.”

Donkey Was Found of Music.

The effect of music on a donkey was described at length In an Issue of the Mercure de France for the year 1769. Apparently this young donkey always showed the greatest Interest in the concerts which were held regularly in the drawing-room of a French chateau. As soon as the music began, the donkey approached the window and showed quite plainly whether the pieces given were to his taste or not He was found of simple music and showed impatience at elaborate effects. What he particularly enjoyed was to hear the mistress of the house sing. She had a particularly fine voice, and he seemed to listen to every note with delight One day, when a duet was being sung, his feelings completely overpowered him and he rushed into the drawing-room and marked his appreciation of the two singers by braying loudly.

Air Castles.

We are all keen about our air castles, despite the fact that so many become the mere bubbles of our existence. We build and hope and pray for success, and often as we are about to realize our ambition, the whole fabrlc totters and falls to the ground. But we do not despair. Work with a goal in sight Work with all of your mind and all of your other faculties toward a definite mark and you are so engulfed in the aspirations of your life that doubt and discouragement and envy and malice and unbelief become mere incidentals.—Washington Herald.

OLD BUGGY NOT SO BAD

One Man at Least Think® Automobile I® Not Buch a Very Great improvement. Speaking of old-fashioned things, a newspaper writer want* to know what has become of the gallant youth who, when he had stopped the horse, would let down the top of the buggy In order to permit his sweetheart to alight without difficulty? Well, we do not know what has become of him, but we remember him. Perhaps he is slumbering somewhere in oblivion, whatever that is, with the gaudy lap robe wound about him — that lap robe with the big red rose crudely worked in the center. It was a thing of art, even as was the linen duster, and the gallant youth probably hangs on to it in his obscurity. But speaking of bjiggy riding, the automobile is no Improvement over it in the matter of real enjoyment. Not until the automobile is perfected so it can be driven with one hand, or until it will wander along the road without driving at gll, will it come in the class of bliss which the buggy occupied in the days gone by. The girls are as sweet as they used be— a nd the roads much better. The moonlight is just as mellow. Love flows in the same uncharted channel. Youth is as hopeful—and as boastful. Mothers are aS anxious, fathers as impatient, when daughter fails to return when she was expected. Gossip is as busy. But the wise old horse that knew when there was a loving couple in the buggy, and the narrow buggy Itself, have all but taken their departure along with the gallant fellow who hopped from the rig and gracefully and graciously lowered the top of the vehicle so his companion could alight without so much as touching a wheel or the body.—Columbus (O.) Dispatch.

France Welcomes Babies.

Babies are welcome in certain 'apartment houses in Paris. Reversing the policy prevalent in apartment houses, the owner of one of the newest houses in the French capital will not take in a family which has no children, and the size of the suite obtainable depends entirely on the number of children rather than the number of dollars a family has. A list of qualifications has been prepared by the owners of these arid tenants must meet them. A family with one child will not be permitted to have the largest apartments in the house. It will have to take one of the smallest suites. A family with two children will be rented the next largest apartment, three children the next largest, and four children any of the larger suites in the house. A family must contain at least four children to lease the largest suite. There is reason to believe that the government is interested or will be Interested in these houses, as France has encouraged in every possible manner a higher birth rate.

Bet Limit to Luxuries.

“Don’t try to sell luxuries to NewZealand.” This is the advice United States Consul General Winslow gives American merchants in a commerce report. No; New Zealand is not pinched for money. Its wallet is well filled. “There Is no particular necessity for retrenchment,” as the consul puts it, but the public is opposed to the purchase of luxuries, especially luxuries that have to be imported, thereby using tonnage needed to head off the U-boats. Trinidad, too, and the whole of the British West Indies, is abstaining from use of imported goods. This has caused the population to change its whole menu, for many foodstuffs were formerly imported. Now the people eat home-grown plants that only the animals ate before. They like the new diet so well they say they will never again Import any staple food except cornmeal.

Win-the-War Wig.

A wig to help to win the war has been “invented” by an American cotton manufacturer. It is made of a fibrous material in two colors —green and reddish brown. It fits down tight over the helmet and, while the soldiers are sneaking through the woodlands, blends into the forest so splendidly and naturally that 800 feet away nobody can tell that a company or a regiment of soldiers is on the move. Then when out of the woods and back in the trenches all the soldier must needs do is to take off his wig and reverse it and he is topped with a reddish-brown top piece, invisible against the earthwork of the trenches.

Must Take Time to Submerge.

It requires at least five minutes for submarines of the latest type to submerge. A submarine cannot dive Quickly under the sea, because the water which must be let into her ballast tanks to make her heavy enough to alnk must be let in comparatively slowly. If it were let in with a rush the boat might not go down on an even keel, but would neel over and be in great danger of disaster. Then, too, if water were let in too quickly there would be danger of too much entering, and in that case the submarine would Pink like lead to the bottom of the sea.

Wearied, as It Were.

Stanley had learned to dress himself and was quite proud of it, but after several days’ practice he seemed to have lost his pride. One morning be asked his mother to dress him. “I thought you could dress yourself, Stanley—you must be getting lasy. “No, I ain’t; but I*s losed my Tuslasm."

HERE IS NEW IDEA

Woman’s View of What Masculine Dress Should Be. V Possibility That the War Will Bring About Such a Transformation a® She Seems to Think Would , Be Desirable. The war has brought many changes in the world, and it is certainly hoped that mere man will now take a tumble and let the uniform of the soldier suggest to him a new mode of dress. We see daily the trim figures of “our boys,” with the neat-fitting uniformcoat, baggy trousers to the knee and the leggings that so well set off the leg. Man’s present dress is always a matter of ridicule, is unsightly and should be changed to something more sensible and economical. Let us build for Mr. Man a new kind of suit, a woman writes to the editor of the New York World. ,At first he will howl and say no, but if women will persevere and say you must, he will, and in the end be hapFirst, his figure. The atjflominal belt is man’s only excuse for the corset. He wants it and he needs it far more than woman, and if only for support alone. Put him into a regular woman’s corset of waistline height and long hip and reduce that uglystomach several inches. He will not look foppish, but will have that military cut we all admire. He will naturally feel ill at ease and compressed for a few days, but that will disappear and a feeling of real living will follow, for his lungs will expand, the muscles be tightly supported and vim replace langour. The corset was originally worn by men, so let us put them back into their own garment. Women are on the average far healthier than men, and they are daily incased in a corset Now we have a figure to work on. Next, put him back into knee pant® and long stockings. Is anything more becoming than the knickers of old days? Think of the cloth saved and that ugly bag in his long trousers forever eliminated. Then the coat tailored to curve to his figure, lapels a thing of the past, and instead the military collar effect Coats to be cut shorter and vest® done away with entirely. Think of the saving of cloth in the suit alone. Even his shirts, while in effect the same as now worn, could be shortened as in a woman’s shirtwaist, and of far less material, so as to conform to a narrower figure. Make a -"change in his shoes and go back to the old colonial type of narrower lines and a higher heel. What is prettier than the old colonial shoe and buckle? Prevailing ciotns would make up becomingly for business and street wear, but the possibilities for evening dress are unlimited. His evening clothes are hideous. Silken breeches, flowing waists, etc., lend untold possibilities at a dinner or function. And the comforts on a hot summer day. Let him have several pairs of white duck knickers and an array of shirts. White pumps and stockings to match, and thousands of yards of wool saved. And a far better dressed man in the bargain. , Every man down in his heart wishes he could change to something more becoming and with greater possibilities of variety. And every man who reads this will fervently.hope that someone will start the ball rolling, for he has not the nerve himself to captain the movement Nine out of ten will quickly fall inte line and dress accordingly and fed happy to think that someone started a dress reform. I trust the world will air a woman’s views about man’s dress and that wives and sweethearts will follow you> lines and shame the man into a welldressed being.

Reforest Bare Hillsides.

The scarcity of lumber for mine pl> lars and other mine uses has led tc the creation of a forestry department by several of the large mining companies, one of which has Just refor ested Bear creek watershed with 5.00 C white pine and 5,000 Norway spruce trees. Thirty thousand more trees are 1e process of cultivation at Hauto, Pa. in the Panthqr Creek valley. When timber is ready to cut in the vicinity of the mines troublesome waits and long hauls will be eliminated. * More timber in the anthracite region would stop floods, add to ths water supply, reduce the drought periods and enable the anthracite industry to add to its output. Many thousands of acres are available about the mines for reforestation.

English Meat Cards.

Meat can be purchased in metropolitan districts in England only under the card system, which is to be extended throughout the United Kingdom. The child’s meat card is for children under ten years of age, who are entitled to only half as much meat as adults. Horse meat, bones, suet and offal are included among the products for the purchase of which cards are necessary. No one Is exempt; even the royal family is on a meat-card basis. The rigidity of control may be Judged from the fact that forgery of cards Is punishable by heavy fine and that In case of death, the card must ba surrendered before a burial permit Is granted.