Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 303, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 28 December 1918 — Page 2

Hero Mine

By R. RAY BAKER

McCiure 'Newspaper ■p.>. Syndicate.) Versa Pomeroy bad a mania for heroes. > " “I will marry the man who goes through fire, water, blood and Iron for me/’ was the way she expressed it. there, were who would have been willing to go throngh water, provided it was not too deep; and also through blood, as long as it was not of their own or their shedding; but as to fire and iron—well, the former was a lit*tie tijt>o much to expect and the latter wasf difficult ,• . * If Verna had waited a few years stye would have experienced no difficulty in finding a hero for herself. ’ 1 They are plentiful nowadays, but they wefre scarce when Verna was twentyone and the “pretty stenog” in Jones &.Jones’ real estate office on the fourth \ floor of the Ashton building. Somehow Verna figured that Dan Williams was destined to be the man. He was a fireman in the station house three blocks down the street, and he dung rather heroically, she thought, to the red juggernaut that roared and screeched past the Ashton on an average of at least four Mmes a day. There was a man who would at least go through fire, and certainly through water, and probably meet the other requirements. He was a strapping blond young man, with strength rippling through every muscle, and he was very good for a hero worshiper to look at. "Some day he’ll prove to be my hero,” she had decided oh the day Dan followed his pet maltese cat in its wanderings from the station house across the street to the Pomeroy residence, where Verna happened to be seated on the porch reading "Brave Men I Have Met? That’s the way they got acquainted, and since, then Dan had woo'ed Verna through the fourth floor window every week day and in the parlor of her home every, night when he got time off. When the siren of the ladder truck gave vent to its mournful shriek Verna always would look up from her typewriter and exchange a wave of the hand with Dan as the red demon dashed by. But Dan was not the only one who wooed Verna through the window; Ben Vincent rode past the Ashton building twelve times a day. His pace was not as swift as his rival’s, however, because his vehicle was a street car. When he apprpached Verna’s window he always stood on the rear platform and waved one of his hands while the other rang up fares. Verna liked Ben fully as well as Dan, but his life was so prosaic it offered few heroic possibilities. He had dark hair and eyes and bls face was attractive, but' he failed to come up to the fireman’s shoulder and there was no noticeable bulge just above the elbow. His acquaintance she had formed when she moved to a residence in the suburbs and was obliged to use a trolley can-twice each day. Ben’s dark complexion was another handicap. Verna had hair that she liked to hear called "raven locks” and her eyes were” of a simitar hue; and she had read that a person should marry an opposite. That’s the way things stood when the rivals met one night a half block from the Pomeroy home. The conductor had been calling on Verna and the fireman knew it and waited for him. They both happened to be off duty, but Ben had been the first to ask her for an engagement. “I’ve been waiting for you an hour,” Dan announced as he stepped out from the tree against which he had been leaning. "You’ve been in Miss Pomeroy’s parlor altogether too long. I can’t stand for that.” Ben had no relish for a fight—not with those six feet of muscle —so he kept his temper in leash. ‘ “Sorry I don’t please you,” he replied with sarcasm-sprinkled coolness. “I didn’t know Miss Pomeroy and you were engaged.” The fireman knitted his brows into a savage scowl and looked disdainfully down at the pebble in his highway of love. "Well, we aren’t," he declared. ? “There is no engagement yet, but there /is going to be. She wants a man, and Pm it —see? She isn’t going to tie up with a shrimp like you, so you better make yourself scarce around her. Tm just warning you, that’s ail.” About this time Fate decided to take a band in the affair. So a janitor went to sleep In the basement of the Ashton building late one afternoon and a cigarette dropped from his mouth into a barrel of excelsior. The Ashton was a frame relic of past architectural grandeur and the flames ate Into it as a famished Hon eats into a Munk of red beefsteak. The janitor awoke, choked with ufnoke, and staggered to safety. The occupants of the building dashed pellmell to the street by means of the stairway and the meager fire-escape facilities. The elevator boy deserted his post and fled with the rest. Verna’s bosses were playing golf ■nd she was alone in the office cleaning up » pile of work. She had hereof some of the qualities that heroes and heroines are ?aade of. So she remained in the office and put valuable papers in the safe, while fire crept up

the outside and inside of the building and smoke seeped through the floors. “Thebe's tots of Hipp.” she told herself, and k e Pt rummaging for one very important document she had been unable to locate. She finally -discovered It bn file on the junior partner’s desa. Tossing it into the safe, she ’ slammed the Iron door, turned the knob and hurried into her coat and hat. ■■ • As she opened the office door a wave of heat and smoke rolled tn upon her. She coughed and drew back for a moment, then dashed for the stairway. But the flames had been theS'e first, and there was no .’stairway. By this time she was really excited. She ran to the elevator entrance and pushed frantically and vainly Wn the bell. Baffled, she stood In a daze in the midst of stifling fumes which were becoming more dense with every minute that passed. “Dan will save me!” she cried, and she struggled to her feet and ran back into the office, throwing open a window. Indistinctly through the smoke she made out" a crowd assembled across the street. Bells were clanging as fire apparatus darted up and down the thoroughfare. “Dahl" she cried, with all the pow-, er of her lungs. Repeatedly she called the name, while flames stole closer and closer to the fourth floor. Presently she heard an answering shout, and a huge, light-haired fireman stood out in the center of the street and waved a hand at her the same as he had waved It countless times from his red demon. He disappeared from her view. The heat grew more intense and the smoke got thicker. The flames were having a feast; they were gorging themselves. Suddenly she saw something rising before her—an extension ladder. It wabbled and quivered before the window and then slowly the ends settled against the ledge. She looked <Tbwn, and there he was —the man—fighting his way up, inch by inch, through a shroud of yellow flames and blackness.

In a few moments he would be at the window .and she would be saved. A dense cloud reached out, enveloped the ladder and blotted out the fireman from sight. When it rolled away there was Dan on the ladderfaltering. As she watched he shook his head, pointed at the flames above him, and slowly began to descend. Verna fainted. The next sensation she experienced was one of being jolted. She opened her eyes and discovered she was in a street car which was bumping swiftly over the rails. She was half reclining on a seat—and she was the only passenger. There was a step jn ".the aisle and she saw a bedraggled figure in a blue uniform standing over her. It was Ben. “How’d I get here?” was her first question after a silent moment of contemplation and wonder. “I put you there,” he responded simply. “I’m taking you home as fast as I can. My machine (be laughed dryly) was stopped by the fire. I saw you at the window and- went after you.” She took a ipnf breath of relief or two to get her lungs full of air or sojnething. Then she noticed that about hia forehead was a bloody handkerchief that his cap could not entirely conceal. “Where’d you get that blood?” she demanded, shuddering. He fumbled with his transfer punch. “It,wasn’t much of a hurt,” he said, “although it did bleed a lot. You see, I was able to reach you by running the elevator, which I found standing open. There was a regular blanket of fire in the shaft, but I guess the soaking I got from a hose when I made the run for the building helped to kqep me from burning up. I got the blood when I rammed my head into the iron gate at the fourth landing, thinking it was open. The blow sort Of dazed me, but I managed to open the gate, picked you up in the office and beat it back down the elevator with you. I bet I made an awful dent in that gate. My head feels like it had busted right through the iron.” Verna reached up and clasped one of his'hands. “Ben,” she said, “do you know you have all the qualities of a regular hero?”

Devil's Tower a Landmark.

- The Devil’s tower is 32 miles by road from ’ Moorcroft, Wyo. This conspicuous mass of rock, flung up by some ancient earth cataclysm, rises 600 feet above a rounded ridge of sedimentary rocks, which itself rises 600 feet above the Belle Fourche river. It was useful to the aborigines as a landmark from which to direct their courses across the plains. Later on, the white pioneers of civilization In their exploration of the great Northwest also used it as a landmark. Still later the mlHtary wars in the Sioux and Crow Indian country during the Indian wars of the last century directed their marches by the aid of this ever-present tower; for it is visible in some directions for nearly a hundred miles. —Automobile Blue Book.

Chinese Playing Soccer.

During the past few years the Chinese have'been making tentative experiments in the way of'playing association football, a game which Is becoming popular among the Chinese workmen in France. It seems that the Chinese in New York are now running an association team and, like practical men, have engaged the present secretary of the United States Football association as their managar for ndxt season.—London Field.

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER, INi».

CUPID Vs. CENSOR

By MISS MINNA RICHMOND.

Emily Stanton had hurried abruptly away from the Knitting Circle. ’Twas to her dearest, pal, Helen Croal, that she hastened for sympathy. “Truly, Helen, I’ll -not stand being prompted by a lot of romantic Janes. I’ve finished with the club.” “Oh, Em, how can you?" pacified the less radical Helen. “Don’t cut loose from a jolly bunch of girls without a fully sensible excuse.” “Excuse? But I have every reason to 'do so. No self-respecting human oaji stand for this continual rehearsal of Phil Alien’s virtues and suggestions as to the part I' should play in the farewell affair they plan to inflict upon him. I’ve a notion to duck down to the cottage till the festivities are at an end.” • “You’ll do no such thing,” scared Helen. “The girls are right and you are right in your own way, Em; They all think worlds of* yourself and Phil, and, knowing how worth while Phil Is, they think It’s a decided pity that you don’t reciprocate his attentions.” “Well, as a match-making agency 'they are a hopeless failure. When is this scheduled soiree, due to be worked “Next week, I fancy, for Phil is soon to be ordered South. You’ll surely attend, won’t you, Em?” “I’d like to be ‘non-plus’ at the party, but ’twould be terribly conspicuous, I suppose.” .

The much heralded event was an unqualified success. The old buneh all met to give the khaki-dad youth a rousing send-off.; Emily, too, attended, but. seemed to be less her own cheerfully Impersonal self. Determined to disappoint the matchmakers, Emily had studiously avoided the guest of honor, except to allow him two dances at the conclusion of which the,soldier asked for and received hdr promise to write the home news frequently. x “Tell you what, Em,” said Phil, “a letter from home changes the outlook on everything. In the the promise of the only little girjTtd await your return makes the fight one well worth fighting. Changed your any in that regard?” “Phil, Ails is all war-hysteria on your part. Everyone seems to think it’s a necessary part of the war program. I can’t be convinced that this signing up while the spirit of patrlotisin moves yeu is for the best interests of the parties concerned Your war experience will make a bigger, more' wonderful man of you. You’ll come back with changed.ldeals. For me, there’ll never be any other, I admit; but I insist that you wait to see if I, as your, ideal today, will be that of yduf ideal tomorrow.” “A lot of bunk, Em. You’re a dyed-in-the-wool idealist. Be practical, do, when_you knbw that the* happiness of both of us is at stake/’ Argument proved futile. Phil had to resign himself witji the promise of having a regular correspondent. Uncle Sam’s carriers did their share. Always good pals, with much in common, their letters were of bulky proportions. The feeling of eager expectancy of mall deliveries was a mutual one. Emily’s missives were cheery and Impersonally breezy. Phil’s tended to wax warmer, and contained numerous allusions to the Invincible bachelor maid. Mention was made of acquaintances made in the social life of the camp; maids from neighboring towns, etc. Always was their cordial spirit emphasized and the point made that they did not radiate any of the frigid atmospherical chills of a certain northern miss. All of which Emily read with an air of amused tolerance. The dhy came, however, when tills, which-Emily had termed silly sentimentality, was a negative quantity. The letters were interesting and breezy, but as impersonal as her own. Emily was a surprise to herself. Who’d ever expect that she would miss the old letters so? A youthfully conceited remark of a younger brother as to “men being a scarce dainty these days” reminded her that Phil probably had met many admirers. Even the remark that her letters “truly put the” sure in pleasure,” and similar comments, failed to convince Emily of Phil’s interest. Every letter seemed strangely more frigid than the last,/ill Emily decided that they were the products of a camp refrigerator. Strange, she thought, that as Phil grew indifferent she became proportionately interested. She was heartless and. unpatriotic In the extreme, she reasoned. Never, however, would she pretind to complain, for she had been wholly to blame herself. But every cloud has a silver lining, and when this particularly dark cloud of Emily’s turned inside out it shook from its folds an unassuming little letter with a consoling secret worded thusly; • “Little girlie, over whom my heart’s in such a whirl, greetings! The kind fates have seen fit to supplant the efficient camp censor, known as Charlie Stark, with a goQd-natured western Senedict Charlie as a pal at college and camp is unequaled. I plan to be Some in a week. Be prepared to hear about the struggles of a man torn between a desire to be an ardent lover and the ambition to not appear as too lovesick a swain In the eyesof his pal. It’s a tuff grind. Anyway, I’m a bet’jer verbal than written artist. As ever, PHIL.* mi, by McClure Newspaper Syndicate.) -

Only one-third of the world’s population uses bread as a (Jally food.

BATHER YE ROSES!

Happiness Never a Thing One Lightly Casts Away. t • , r - I ’ r << Too Beautiful, Even Though Evane* to Bo Pawed By When One May Hold It, If Only fer the Moment. z 1 We were coming home from a dinner party together, my friend and I. It was late at night and* rather rainy, and as we sat together In the damp, almost empty trolley car, my friend spoke very suddenly and seriously,' writes Margaret E. Sangster tn the Christian Herald. “Just now,” she said, *Tve a chance to be very happy. But I’m almost afraid to takejt!” The rain beat in a futile manner against the car windows. I listened to It for a moment before I spoke. “Why?” I questioned at last —“why are you afraid to take your chance — to be happy?” "Because,” answered my friend, niyi her eyes looked far away—rest the car and the rain, even —“because I’m afraid that It won’t last!” When It is autumn and the leaves are crimson and gold-colored and very beautiful, we know, even as we admire, them,- that they will be brown and withered some day. But that does not keep us from loving their glorious colors. It’s like that, too, with flowers, and springtime, and the blue sky of summer. We know that the flowers will fade away and that springtime will go and that there will be winter storm clouds .where thtere were once sparkles of sun. • . ■. . ’ "■' " And so this is the answer to toy friend and to other friends of mine: Never be afraid to grasp at happiness because it may not last. For happiness Is as beautiful as the flowers of spring and the sky of summer and the vivid leases of autumn. And even though it might not last, happiness is too beautiful to pass by with never a glance. And then, as the said, and as we know, don’t be sure, as you take your chance at -happiness, that, it will not stay. Look around your circle of friends, look at your business associates, look at the casual crowds and note the average of happy faces Is rather high. You’ll see more smiles, I think, than frowns; more merry faces than sad ones! Don’t be afraid to take a chanee at happiness because you fear that it is too beautiful to last Take your chance, Instead, arguing that happiness is too beautiful net to last!

Dead Man Upright at Machine Gun.

Stories of the scenes of the battlefields are told In a letter received by Mrs. H. E. Wilson of Middle avenue, Wilmerding, Pa., from her son, Private Gordon Wilson of the One Hundred and Ninth Ambulance corps. Walking over the battlefield in search of wounded men, he wrote, he found, himself staring into the muzzle of a German machine gun, with a German soldier at the breech. Dropping into a shell hole, Private Wilson remained there for half an hour, not daring to move. Finally, as darkness approached, he decided to crawl away. He lost his way, be lays, and did not know was until he was again looking at the German machine gun and the lone soldier behind it. This nine he was in a position to see better and recognized at once that the soldier was dead. A bullet fired by an American rifleman had penetrated his forehead, probably just at the time he was preparing to pour a volley into the advancing columns. '

Washtub Punishment.

A cigarette carelessly thrown away by a guard. caused discomfort to a squad of engineers at Camp Shelby, Miss., says a letter received by Mr. and Mrs. E. Borton, Indianapolis, from their son, George K. Borton of the engineers. ? Borton and six comrades awoke about midnight to find,their tent in flames. They wpre driven into the chilly night air in 'sleeping apparel. Soldiers from nearby tents hurried to the rescue with blankets and Private Borton ran a hundred yards for water. The fire department arrived in time to soak the cots. The following morning the guard of the squad was ordered to wash seven pairs of trousers as a punishment for dropping the cigarette near the tent. > "

Earth a Blue Star.

Observations of the dark part of the moon were made by Professqr Lowell at the observatory at Flagstaff, Arts., says the New" York World. The dafk part of the moon is lighted only by the faint light reflected by* the earth, and the color «f this light would be the color with which the earth shines to the other heavenly bodies. This color proved to be blue, which waiTto be expected, as the atmosphere, as we see it, is bine, and it Is the earth’s atmosphere which chiefly would be visible to other planets. Thus the earth is a blue star, I

A Solemn Thought.

“Just think of it, my friend,” said the everlasting worrier. “In the arctic regions the nights are sometimes six months long.” “Well, what of It?” asked his friend as he adjusted his flu mask and a smile at the same time. “Just imagine the consternation of ■.poor Eskimo wife when her husband calls up to tell her be will be away all night up with a sick friend.*

TRIBUTE TO FRENCH WOMAN

Nation Owns Her. > The French woman te brought up to neglect none of the arts that attract men. Even In .munition plants the woman worker knows where the mlrrqr hangs, often has her powder puff at hand, and gives tosconseiously the deft touch to the Lyman Powell in the Design*. If It has sometimes seemed to us that the French wife overlooks too easily the unconsciousness qf a bushpnd, It is because wie have failed tt» understand that French women are exported to keep themselves so attractive to the mate after marriage as well as before that he will. not want to wander over fields. ’ If lt.be asked what woman is sufficient all through life-for the double duty of being a good wife«and a good mother, I name you France, add that French women are in this regard the marvel of their sex and the strongest bulwarks of monogamy. ; And all talk about the lower birth rate in France is beside the mark. The child is held so precious in the French mind that he usually remains a dream child till the-right conditions are in sight for his upbringing. If allowance be made for that fringe of the unproductive found in every land, it is doubtful whether the birth rate among the high-minded and responsible is lower over there than over here. The French woman cannot be summed up in a-phrase.. Contrary to the general opinion, she> Is simple, practical, sensible, tenacious, deliberate, cautious, farsighted and affectionate. She is sensitive but not sentimental. She Is talkative but not superficial. She Is ebullient but enduring. She Is a compound of heart and head, which explains Joffre, Petain, Foch and the Pollu, who have fought these four years past our battle as well as their own and have been the surprise of every friend as well as the exasperation of the foe. . If Waterloo was .won on the playing fields of Eton, Rugby, Harrow, certainly . the Marne, Verdun, the Somme were won in the French house where the French woman lives and manages,, smiles and plans, suffers and “carries on.”

Fish Trapped in Tomato Can.

Early in November Allen Wlffin of Blairsville, N. Y., filled a tomato can nearly full of worms and w*t to the lake to 'fish for pike. He anchored his rowboat near Lone'Bar and proceeded to fish. , ' e Late In the afternoon Wiffin placed his catch In a bag, picked up the cao, which has half-full of angleworms, and threw it into the water. He says that when the can struck the water a large fish jumped out, hit the can with its tail, and the can filled with water and sank,? A few days later Wlffin again went to the fake to fish. He anchored his boat 50 rods from shore and had fished for nearly an hour when be discovered a tin can floating on the water. The peculiar motion of the can attracted ‘ his attention, he says, and he rowed the boat to it, and with a landing net scooped the can into the boat. Great was his surprise, he says, . when he raised the can from the water to see a large fish with its head In the can.

Lafayette Home Shelters Orphans.

The old home of (general Lafayette, at Chavanlac, a town in the department of Haute-Loire, is being used as an American home for French war orphans. - The Lafayette fund, conducts the shelter. . A hundred children from the .devastated regions are at Chavanlac. A modern schoolhouse and a hospital have been built near the old chateau. The orphans learn English. * They are being brought up with the aim of sending .them 4 to America after the war for the completion of their professional or commercial education. They are learning American ways and ideas. In America, each child has a godfather who will take overUts education later. Thfe best care that American science can give afforded the children. The Lafayette fund, is a wealthy organization and Intends to greatly extend its work.

Accidents Notably Decreased.

Accidents in the irqg and steel industry have decreased by more than two-thirds during the last ten years as the result of a . movement to enforce safety regulations, according to a report by the bureau of labor statistics. In 1907, the report shows, 245 men were killed or injured out of every 1,000 employed, while in 1914 the accident rate was reduced to 81 per 1,000. A further reduction would have been recorded in 1917 but for the dislocation of industrial procasses to meet war needs, the rqport says.

Hemp Raised by Cenvicts.

Penitentiary officials at Lansing conducted an interesting experiment on an island in the Missouri rivjer by planting 50 acres of hemp. The Leavenworth Times reports a bumper crop was raised. Experts declare it may be used in making binder twine at the penitentiary plant The hemp may be substituted for the sisal imported from Yucgtan, In making twine. The result would be a big saving in cost to the wheat farmers.—Kansas City Star.

In the Tranches.

“What’s the matter, Bill, hdme■lck?” ... 2. “WelL not exactly, but sometimes I wonder whieh one of my brotbers-In-lsw la wearing my whit, watte scat.* _

SCRAPS of HUMOR

Leading Up to Sentiment. “What is youy favorite poem?” asked the young Bmn. > -- Elegy,’* replied the young woman. . \ “Is it—er—that is to say—do you recite it?” \ “No. I just' said that to fooh you. You thought I was going to mention ’Omar Khayyam’ so that you could lead up to' that ‘book of verse, jug and loaf stanza.* Sure, He Is. « Mrs. Gabbalot—What caused the trouble between the Meekleys? Mrs. Gadabout—His wife called him ft -‘Ti-x ■* " ■»’ *'* “Mrs. Gabbalot—What! Called that poor, mild-mannered little man a beast? -/'r-'P.’;’.'.’■ Mrs. Gadabout—Sure; she meant he was a beast of burden. , * Everybody's Doin' It. “Well, things look pretty favorable for the allies, don’t-you, think so?” asked the well-met feller. “Personally, I do,” responded the cautious citizen, “but t do not like to express myself positively till T get a chance to discuss the situation .with the janitor, the office boy and the stenographer/’ \ A Reformed Slacker. “Which have you been doing?” asked Meandering Mike; “working or fighting?” :“I dunno.” replied Plodding Pete ; “when I fight Tm so busy It’s de same as work an’ when i work I’m so mad dat it seems jes* de same as fightin’." Suspicious. Bess—ls he all right?” - June —He uses wretchedly good grammar for a college man. I don’t believe he* is right. 4 AGREED. ..

Harold—Of course I know that lam totally unworthy of you— Myrtle—rAh! how happy we should be If you and father agreed on all polntsas you do on this one. . The Test Jen thought her face was very fair; Her Ana thought Jennie’s beauty rare. She took- * crowded car one' day— And had to stand up all the way. ' Not Playing. "I understand you have quit playing the stock market.’’ “Never did play It. I merely , supplied some cash and kept books while sbmebody else had all the fun.” " Then Pa Subsided. Stern Father—See here, young man? who do you think Is boss acpund here —you or I? -- r _ The Young Miscreant—S-h-h-h, pa. . Mother Is in the next room. ■ ■ A Good Speech. “Did he make a good speech?” „ “Fine. He admitted he had nothfhg t<f say and then didn’t try to say It.” Sure Proof. He—You are crazy about bargain*. . Did you ever really get a cheap thing! She —Sure I did, when I mar- . ried you. i - The Safest Way. Clerk—Can't I sell you a burglar alarm? Jones—No, thanks! If a bursar calls I prefer to remain asleep. — I —' , - ' • A Strangle Hold. “You know Al Strong, the wrestler ?” - “Yes; what about him?" . -Well, he’s lost the champtynshlp.--You don’t sayr “Yes, his girl threw him down!"— —-CZZ Some Argument. , Irate Parent—You can get rid of ..money faster than any man I know. Son-True, dad; but listen: By get-