Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 241, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 14 October 1918 — Page 2

Anne's Lunatic

By EILEEN OWENS

(Copyright, IMS, by the McClure Newspa- . per Syndicate.) Had anyone been present at a certain coxy little white cottage one evening in early June, they would have seen Anne Whitney going from room to room, barring all the windows and fastening all the doors. One might wonder why Anne was so very cautiously sealing up her abode; one might even suspect Anne of being afraid, but that was not the case. Anne Whitney was absolutely and unconditionally alone, for her housekeeper, the good Mrs. Mather, had been called away suddenly by the death of her brother and Anne’s cottage was nearly five miles from the village proper. This was sufficiently disturbing, but add to this the fact that she had seen that veryafternoon a notice stating that a certain inmate of a nearby insane asylum had escaped—a very dangerous inmate for whose return five hundred dollars was offered, and'Anne would no longer seem a timid person, but instead a firm advocate of preparedness. This was the second summer that Anne had come to Oakdale, the tiny village tucked away in the hills, away from the hustling, bustling city, where she drew clever illustrations for a certain popular magazine. Antfe could not help feeling a trifle wary, but she went to bed early and soon fell asleep. Some time later—it must have been near three o’clock —she was awakened by a loud shout She sat up in bed. A moment’s silence and then a confused shouting and scuffling, then a thud as of a body falling, and once more —silence. Memories of acts of insane people rushed through her mind in quick succession and she trembled violently. Finally summoning together all her courage she slipped from the bed and looked out the window. To her utter relief she saw nothing at all alarming. “Could it have been a dream?” Anne questioned herself. Then, as once more she crept into bed, she concluded that it had been a nightmare, evidently brought on by her distressing thoughts of lunatics, whereupon she promptly fell asleep and did not waken until the bright morning stmshine was streaming in on her face. She rose quickly and, still fearful of the lunatic’s proximity, she decided to spend the’ day-on the lake. So hastily packing a lunch and taking a new book, she went down to the boathouse. Humming a little tune, she opened the door, and then her heart skipped a beat or two, for there, lying full length on the floor, was a man who seemed to be asleep. The lunatic I And a dangerous one at that!

He wore the conventional garb of an inmate of the asylum, but even in her fright Apne noticed that he still wore eilk socks and good looking shoes. She couldn't see his face very well, for the shadows were striking it and left it in semi-darkness. By this time Anne was trembling all over. What should she do? Just then she spied the old rifle hanging on the wall and, without knowing why, she reached over and picked it up. But her act awakened the sleeping man and Anne felt her heart slip—slip until it seemed to settle down in her heels. For the man, with a dazed look in his eyes, sprang up and was about to rush out when he was halted by Anne’s rather tremulous call, “Hands upl” Anne, who had never seen a lunatic before, much less captured one, did not know whether he would comprehend the term, but apparently he did, for slowly withdrawing a step or two, he raised his hands. The lunatic was tall and well proportioned. He had light, wavy hair which was now sadly disarranged, his eyes were deep blue, and as they regarded Anne’s frightened face behind the ugly rifle, they lighted up appreciatively. Altogether Anne’s lunatic was a very likeable young man and a wave of pity swept over her as she thought of his affliction. Possibly he was insane only at intervals, and this might be one of his rational periods. Fervently hoping her surmise was correct Anne told him to sit down, which he did, inquiring, “To what must I be grateful for the pleasure of your company?” Anne did not reply, but shifted the rifle to a more menacing position, and thought, “If only I can hold him here until some one goes by and come to help me." What should she do if he became violent? Anne did not know. The lunatic, seated on a low box on the floor, still looked somewhat mystified, and said to Anne, “Will you kindly tell me why I am being kept, prisoner here? Not that I object with you as jailer, but —” Anne blushed, for It is very embarrassing to receive compliments from a man you are bolding prisoner, even if he is a lunatic. At* first she decided not to answer him at all, but fearing that her silence would irritate him, she concluded that she had better answer his questions. “Didn’t you hear the noises of a fight here last night?” he asked. Anne trembled, for she thought he had attacked some one and that the thoughts of It would work him up. "Why, y-yes, I did," she admitted, then, trying to change the subject, she

added: “Wouldn’t you like something to eat?” Happily she had struck a weak spot and he gladly accepted the lunch basket He divided everything, giving her the lion’s share, which she did not dare refuse. But if she thought to divert his mind from the events of last evening she was mistaken, for he began again: “Last night I was on my way to Oakdale, where I Intend, or perhaps I should say Intended, to spend my vacation, and my gasoline gave out about five miles from town. Of course, there was no one around, so I started to hike it. I was making pretty good time when Just as I reached this place I saw a man trying to get in by a window. *1 tried to be a hero and the next thing I knew I found myself in these duds and with you pointing a gun at me. I wish you’d explain matters a bit." Anne looked at him. Was he telling the truth? He certainly looked and acted as though he was, but somewhere she had heard of the “diabolical craftiness of the insane mind,” and —she didn’t believe him. Still trying to humor him, she said: “I’m very much obliged to you, sir, and perhaps in a little while you can go.” “Don’t you believe me?” he cried, exasperated. “Oh. of course,” said Anne.’ “but wouldn’t you like to stay with me a little longer?" “E-er, why certainly. I’d be delighted ; but I do wish you’d put that beastly gun down. It makes me feel rather uncomfortable to be staring into the muzzle of a rifle ail the time.” Anne, who was really tired of holding the heavy weapon, let it drop to her side, but still kept her hand on it. A silence then fell, and Anne, still keeping one eye on the road and the other on her prisoner, thought over what he had said. Evidently she had not been dreaming, for he had been in the fight, but who and where was the other man? He had said he intended to spend his vacation at Oakdale, and Anne found herself thinking how nice it would be if some one like him, in his right mind, of course, should come to the tiny village. They would meet, they would form a mutual fondness, they would tramp the woods, they would row on the lake, and they would — “Say”—Anne came back to the present with a thud —“how long are you going to keep a fellow in this coop?” Anne didn’t know what to say. She was somewhat provoked herself, for it was now long past noon and it was hot and, moreover, she was very thirsty. She felt and looked as if she wanted to cry and the lunatic said apologetically, “I hope you’ll forgive my rudeness, but Tm telling the truth, honestly, and —”

But Anne did not hear him, for she had jujst spied the old mail carrier riding by and in another moment Anne was pouring out her tale. “Oh, Mr. Johnson, I’ve got the lunatic here, and the gun is so heavy and —” “Lunatic!” thundered the prisoner. “So that’s what you think I am?” “Lunatic!” ejaculated the old man. “Why, that’s Jim Burroughs, who’s bought the old Pendergast place down in the village. The lunatic was caught this morning, plumb tuckered out and in some clothes he'd evidently borrowed.” Anne Stared, then she flushed to the roots of her hair. “Oh, please try to forgive me. I didn’t know and I tried to believe you weren’t the lunatic, honestly I did, hut—” “Don’t worry,” replied the erstwhile lunatic. “I really didn’t mind being prisoner, under the circumstances.” Thus comforted, Anne questioned: “Wouldn’t you like to come out some day and get acquainted with me, minus the gun?” Jim Burroughs thought that he would, but at present he thought it advisable to shed the garments so kindly (?) left him by his assailant, and so with a gay smile and a promise to come again he drove off with the mail carrier. The next day he made good his promise, and soon after Anne’s dream was fulfilled, for they met, they formed a mutual fondness, they roamed the woods, they rowed on the lake, and as all good stories should end —they married and lived happily ever after.

Mystery Explained.

“What’s become of your old friend the sea serpent?” asked a vacationer at the beach. “Has he been frightened off by the submarines?” “Guess not,” returned the hotel manager. “I rather think he’s sore over our treatment of him. Last time he was here we chased him off the coast. You see, he caused so many men to sign the pledge that he was killing our bar business.” —Boston Evening Transcript

Far From the Farm.

An lowa boy on board a transport was lying in his bunk, when a friend, who had been up on deck, rushed down and said: “Ned, come up quick. There’s a great flock of seabirds circlin’ 'round the ship.” “O, gwan,” answered the homesick farmer, “who cares about birds? I’d rather see a flock of corn cribs than anything else just now.”

No Comparison.

Til tell you, doctor,” said the. prospective victim with a note of cold feet in his voice, “I am getting a little, scary about my operation. What if I don’t pull through it?” “Oh, nonsense,” exclaimed Doc, ip., his hearty, reassuring way. “What have you to lose inf comparison to me? If you die. you won’t know it, but think what it will do to my reputation*

■ • .■/ ' * - L " ■ ■ ■ 1 frHE EVENING REPUBLICAN. RENSSELAER. IND.

HUN PRISONERS BAGGED BY THE FRENCH ON THE AISNE

A long column of German prisoners marching with th eir officers at the head is shown in this French official ohotograph. They were taken by the French in the Aisne dis trict. . . >

AIRPLANE AFIRE, HE “CARRIES ON”

British Pilot Tells of Thrilling Experience Spotting for Artillery. DESCENDS JUST IN TIME Engine Stops Just as Mission Is Completed—Puts Machine Into SideSlip—Tank Explodes Just as He Reaches Safety. London. —“The fighting pilots don’t get all the fun of the war in the air,” writes a young ‘bird’ who had a thrilling experience recently, returning to his base in a flaming plane. “We were flying over No Man’s Land,” he says, “spotting for the artillery, and by constantly changing direction and height we had pretty well escaped the attention of the übiquitous Archie. The ‘shoot’ was progressing satisfactorily, and our battery would soon be all ranged. Our engine had been running very badly, and had the ‘shoot’ been less Important we should have returned home; but the target was a special Hun bridge, and the battery was shooting excellently. Airplane on Fire.

“Suddenly a smell of burning “wood reached my nostrils. Looking down, I saw the framework near my feet blackened and smoldering. The engine’s back-firing must have made a torch of the exhaust. I switched off the petrol supply and opened out the throttle. One steep, swift dive and the fire was out. /‘Then I hesitated. Should we hurry for home and safety, or continue the ‘shoot,’ in which a very little more observing would bring complete success? I turned to the observer. He leaned over and inspected the damage. It was not very bud, really. He shouted into my ear: “Let’s carry on.” “I climbed again and we continued to ‘shoot.’ Our battery was very soon firing as a battery —all guns—our last message having completed the registration ; and now shells were dropping about the target. Our part was done -r-pretty well, too —and in a few minutes the bridge was entirely destroyed. In our excitement the faulty engine had been forgotten until, with one last splutter, it gave out completely. It stopped. “The machine was really on fire this time and I was too late. The woodwork was burning independently of petrol and exhaust, and to dive now would only fan the flames about my feet. Yet we had to get to the ground, and very quickly, too.

Quite a Wild Affair. “I put the machine into a violent side-slip away from the line. The flames wfere thus fanned toward the opposite wing. The observer, leaning over my shoulder, squirted the fire extinguisher about my feet, which enabled me to keep control of the rud-

HUNS SOME SPRINTERS

Georgia Lieutenant Gives His Estimate of Enemy. Man for Man the American Has It All Over the Boche, He Says. Atlanta, Ga. —“Don’t worry about me, mother; Til be better in a few days than before because of a good rest,” wrote Lieut L. V. Stephens to his mother from “oyer there,” after he had recovered from a gas attack and shell shock during the big drive started July 18. He longs to go back Jnto action. Describing the Hun’s fighting ability Lieutenant Stephens says: “What a treacherous, cowardly lot they are,” he said. “They’ll blaze away with their machine guns and do their best to kill all the Americans on earth, but when we get to-within a hundred or two yards of them, out they come with absolutely no weapons

der bar. We were down to 1,500 feet, but the heat was intense. “The Are had reached the right wing. Things were getting more and more exciting. Would the fabric continue to support us? I pushed down the nose to hasten our descent, keeping the machine also in a side-slip. The rush of air slightly changed the direction of the flames. Now we were nearly down. There were a few shell holes and hardly any hedges. Unless we were unlucky we should not meet any serious obstacle. “The ground rushed toward us. I took off the ‘bank’ and ‘flattened out.’ One landing wheel touched with a bump, broke away and continued its course independently. The machine pirouetted on tne remaining wheel and finally crashed on its nose and left wing. It was quite a wild affair, but we were unhurt. “Springing to the ground, we hurried away from the burning wreck just in time, for a second later the petrol tank exploded. We just looked at each other and never said a word, but neither of us regretted having chanced it and finished our job.”

“DOLL UP” FOR BOCHES

Yanks Raid Trenches in Gro- , tesque Makeup. Soldiers Have Penchant for Attiring Themselves in Discarded Civilian Clothing. With the American Army in France. —Far up near the front, where one never sees a woman, a child nor a male civilian, it is no uncommon sight to come suddenly on a party of youths arrayed in high hats, frock coats, checked trousers and patent leather shoes. They are American soldiers, billeted in ruined French villages, who have picked up these garments from among the debris of the shell-shattered houses. Some of them even don women’s clothing, picture hats, feather boas, silk blouses and skirts, and I have even seen them wearing blonde wigs

LONELY SERVICE FLAG CAUSES WIFE TO ENLIST

Lincoln, Hl.—Because the single star in a service flag that hung in the window of her home here, representing her husband, who had gone tq< war, looked lonely, Mrs. David Shea has • joined the army, adding a mating star. She enlisted as a timekeeper in the quartermaster’s corps and has been sent to Fort Whipple, Prescott, Ariz.

on their persons, their hands high in the air and calling for all they’re worth: ‘Kamerad, Kamerad.’ With some few exceptions they absolutely will not mix it with the Americans. This is no exaggeration at all, but a simple fact. I went over the top with the infantry with the exception of the first all through the drive until I was sent back to the hospital,, and therefore I know what lam talking about. I tell you, man for man, the American has-it all over the Boche. As long as they are massed they fight But get them separated, even a little, and they are through. "I am inclined to believe that the Boche have changed their opinion in regard to the amateur soldiers and officers of the American army.” All the public swimming pools and some of the public baths in London are being used for communal kitchens. With their steam plants and heating appliances they are very adaptable.

DEAF MEN FAILURES IN AVIATION SERVICE

Akron, O.—“ Silent Bob” Hogan of this city has decided that a deaf man has no business in the aviation service of the army. He tried to get in and found that those who are deaf Jiave no sense of balance. Balance is due to eye, ear and muscle. The 1 trial of six deaf mutes proves that the ear Is one of the requisites for balance.

FISH MYSTIFIES ITS CAPTORS

Old-Time Fishermen Say They Never Saw Anything Like This One. Quincy, Mass. —A large fish, the species of which has not been .definitely determined by old-tipie fishing men, has been killed in Haywards creek, Quincy Neck. It weighed 175 pounds and measured five feet eight inches from the tip of one fin to the tip of the other. These fins were back of the head and there were two others, a large one on top an 3 a smaller one underneath. Several fishermen who viewed the strange catch declared they never had observed anything like IL

which they raked up somewhere amid the wreckage of villas on the Marne. The boys go about various duties, cleaning horses, driving ammunition caissons, working about their billets and doing the thousand-and-one other odd jobs that fall to their lot, in their ludicrous makeup. Right on the Vesle some of the Americans picked up some “trick” clothes in gas-drenched Ftsmes and put them on. They crossed the river and raided a German machine gun nest tint had been annoying them during the day by spurting indirect fire on them. - They brought in a couple of prisoners who could not conceal their amazement from the German-speaking officer who questioned them that troops could masquerade in such attire in the midst of danger. Australian and Canadian troops have a penchant for “dolling up” in discarded civilian attire also, and the Anzacs negotiated a raid near Villers Bretonnaux under the same circumstances in June.

TO RID CITY OF MOSQUITOES

Oil Man Takes Contract to Eliminate Pests From Oklahoma Town. Claremore, Okla.—Bert Sprangle, a well-known oil man, has the biggest job in the gift .of the city of Claremore. He has been awarded the contract of eliminating mosquitoes from the city. He is burying oil barrels in the city sewers, and plans to keep a steady but slow stream of oil flowing through them. All pools also will be oiled. The oil is donated by local oil companies.

WON’T MIX WITH SLACKERS

Their Presence in Prison Arouses Patriotic Wrath of Burglars and Felons. New York. —Two hundred suspected slackers, caught in the greatest man bunt tn the history of Gotham, rolled, tossed, groaned and cursed during the first night of their incarceration in the Tombs. They also aroused the patriotic wrath of other prisoners, such as burglars and felons, drunks and dope fiends. •‘Can you beat it?" whined one oldtimer, up for cracking a safe. “How do them guys get that way? Take it from me, I don’t want to be mixed up with that slacker bunch.” And then, as though drawing the final line of classification, the oldtimer shouted to a husky “conscientious objector”: “They haln’t no cooties in here, bo. If yuh can’t face dese bars and tha music, how yuh goin’ to face tha Huns?”

IN OTHER CITIES

Washington Is increasing its police force. '» / New York complains of scant hard coal supply. —— Milwaukee is to have a large artillery factory. ' Los Angeles, Cal., is making vinegar from refuse oranges. Cleveland may this winter continue daylight saving system. Baton Rouge, La., plans to build a municipal street railway. Milwaukee society women are taking temporary jobs in canneries. Bloomington, Ind., permits working girls to wear overalls in the streets. Wilkesbarre, Pa., factory was wrecked the other day by a mine cavein. Akron, 0., may be the site of an Ohio State Detention home for delinquent children. Youngstown, 0., has appointed a commissioner to compel all males up to fifty to go to work. Philadelphia must economize in using water or spend $15,000,000 for additions to present water system. Philadelphia plans for November 7 a great William Penn memorial meeting to be attended by the British ambassador and the governor general of Canada.

SHAKESPEARE’S RE-SET SAWS

All the world’s a film. Sweet are the uses of advertising. * —• Discretion is the better part of Villa. She sat like Pankhurst on a monument. It is a wise stock that knows its own par. England, bound in with the triumphant she. ' The course of true peace never did run smooth. Ml Baseball acquaints a man with strange Fed. fellows. There- was never yet philosopher that could endure watchful waiting patiently. For in my youth I never did apply hot and rebellious grape juice in my blood.

COTTON ENDS

A machine gun in operation will use up a bale in three months. A 12-inch gun disposes of half a bale of cotton with every shot fired. —r It takes over 20,000 bales a year to provide absorbent cotton to stanch and bind the wounds of the injured. One change of apparel for all the troops now engaged in the war represents more than a billion bales of cotton. In a naval battle, like the one off Jutland, from five to six thousand pounds a minute are consumed by each active warship.

I WONDER WHY?

Bad men always die —in the movies. Rich young men always go West — in the movies. Young manicurists always have rich uncles —In the movies., Wall street daddies always neglect their daughters—in the movies; Little orphans always get themselves adopted —in the movies. Tall Westerners always come from out of the desert—in the movies. Pretty girl-crooks always marry young attorneys —in the movies. Farmers always have flivvers and farmers’ wives always wear sunbonnets —in the movies.

ACTIVITIES OF WOMEN

Toronto telephone girls have formed a union. The Hawaiian congress has indorsed woman suffrage. Pullman car porters are to be replaced by women maids. Over 16,000,000 women in this country do their own housework. A woman is employed as lineman by a California telephone company. Women ice #agon drivers in Indianapolis are proving a success. Miss Ida L. Webster is sporting editor of a Toronto (Can.) newspaper. Large army trucks are being operated by women drivers in Detroit.