Evening Republican, Volume 22, Number 9, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 10 January 1919 — Page 2

STORIES of AMERICAN CITIES

Funeral Wagon No Longer Outlaw and Man-Killer EL PASO. —Funeral Wagon, the outlaw horse of Pendleton, Ore., is known yvhereVer bowlegged broncho busters gather and talk horse. When hewas Shipped to she remount station at Fort Bliss his reputation as a bad actor

preceded him. There whs fame to be had for riding the outlaw and man-kill- ■. er, but everybody seemed f<» have a positive dislike for the limelight. For whenever a buster approached the corral Funeral Wagon gave unmistakable, evidence that he * was looking for ♦wyttklo ■ ■ ■■■ I II 11 || I > UWv*V> J , _I r __ . . Sergeant Davis fell heir to Funeral Wagon. \ The sergeant is one of those men w’ho has a way with horses. They are few and they are born, not

made. Incidentally he believes that horses can reason and have feelings; in fact, he wouldn t deny that horses Ordinarily Davis can walk into a corral and lead out any horse in it without fuss or excitement. But it ’took him a month to gain the entree to funeral Wagon’s private corral. Another month went by before he could pa the big bay on the neck. After that the acquaintance progressed more raPl At last came the day when Davis decided to try to ride the outlaw around the corral. He believed Funeral Wagon’s intentions were good, but he was afraid that habit was strong. So he rigged up a Gleason brldle-the last word in horse-breaking. But Funeral Wagon behaved quite like a gentleNow Sergeant Davis takes a daily, ride on Funeral V agon. He leaves quirt and spurs behind and he does not go out of his way to stir up his mount He even hopes to have the commander ride the horse at review. Kindness? Or just Sergeant Davis’ way with a horse? .

Baby Blaine, Heiress, Travels in Her Indubator

CHICAGO. —Most Americans have heard of Cyrus H. McCormick and James G Blaine Well, their great-granddaughter, Baby Blaine, heiress, was born five weeks ago in Henrotln Memorial hospital, Chicago. And when she was taken to her home on Erie street there were

was allowed in or out of the place, A canopy had been stretched from the front door. Six men held it. “A lot of fuss over a baby,” said one curious bystander, “Not a bit of it, lady,” said one of the canvas bearers. "Pm for it. Tm getting $5 a day.” □.v u The driver of the anibulance said he had been driving around the city for four days, testing the temperature of the interior. Hot-water heaters had been placed inside. All the floors and walls near the place where the baby was to be carried had been scrubbed until they shone. Carpets and rugs covered steps and —_ —_—_—. . - _ _—~—2-.*^_ . _ - A crowd that numbered 150, watching the affair, caught a glimpse of the little face. Doctors and nurses, with the mother and a few friends, formed the procession. The baby’s portable home was carried in a specially constructed basket “Your Son, a Soldier of America, Salutes You” A SMALL WISCONSIN TOWN.—When Private Lester Wagner, son of Mr. and Mrs. William Wagner, went overseas in Pershing’s army he left a sealed letter. A few days ago his name appeared under the caption “Killed

In Action." The letter: “Dear Father: This is a final message to you. . ' “There will be little else—jiist the brief official notice —maybe a belated letter or two, speaking only of thesmall happenings of the dayj perhaps the tale of a comrade or two as to how I fell. Beyond that, nothing. And therefore now, beforehand, say fare — well . • - - - ' — --- “There is no need of many words, but I want first to thank you for the

gift of a clean, strong, vigorous and healthy body. < Straight limbs that could serve America at her need; for the gift of a good intellect and discerning mind, I thank you. “For the long years of self-denial that made my education possible; for guidance and teaching that kept me straight in the days of my youth; for the counsel and help ever freely proffered when I asked; for all noble things in your example—again and most earnestly I thank you. “Secondly, as to my death : » “Inasmuch ass we.be men together, there is little need for words. It is in a good cause that I lay down my life. All the things 1 hold dear in life I • ■willingly give up, since it is requested of- me. I proud and lam glad to be one of those America takes who with their bodies pay the price of liberty and justice; and though in your hearts will be sorrow, you will also be proud of me. and will not grieve overmuch. “All good things be unto you. May the coming years bring wider field of service, honor and wisdom to perform it, and in- the end peace and contentment and rest. “Your son, a soldier of America, salutes you. Farewell.”

Say “Squirrel” and Fight; Say “M-e-ow” and Run

SAN FRANCISCO. —There is woe and wrath among society folk and epicures in this neck* of woods. They have been basely deceived and the gay deceiver is a simple country boy, at that. Jimffiie Burkett of Lone Oak, Cal., 16

squirrels a week. Gray squirrels, as is well known, are a delight to any epicure’s palate. ' ' Then Jimmie began sending the “Squirrels” to his friends. His fame grew and his business increased. Each member of the camping party told a friend of the wonderful “squirrel” dinners. Jimmie’s mail-order business increased l and he was making money fast. j But it is against the law to Sell gray squirrels. The game wardens heard whnnt the “sqnlrrel" boslness and camped on Jimmie’s trait No arrests have been made, but Jimmie’s business has failed. He ships no more "squirrels.” The truth is that Jimmie sent them no' Murrels at all. He just raised the cofnmtwt-hv bonsehold— variety-of eats, flny&s soos as they were the size of a squirrel he killed and skinned them and sent them to his customers. • Bay “squirrel” so several San Francisco capitalists and clubmen and •

great doings. Never in the history of Chicago were more elaborate precautions taken to shelter and protect an infant. For this is an incubator baby, a baby that must live in a regulated temperature, under glass, watched day and night to guard the sacred flame of life. Everything stopped at the hospital for three-quarters of an hour until this precious charge was delivered safely to- the waiting ambulance. No one

years old, acted as guide for a patty of San Francisco millionaires on a hunting trip through-the mountains of Shasta county-a year ago last summer. Jimmie is mountain-bred and wise in his generation. He is a crack shot and knows the mountains as a preacher knows his Book. The boy ’killed squirrels and caught trout for the party. When the camping trip was over he had entered into a deal whereby he was to send his San Francisco friends so many

THE EVBWIHG REPUBLICAN,

Unheralded Heroes of the War

4 . Heroes were made every day during the war. Unusual deeds of bravery became so common that little attention was paid to them. Sometimes they found their way intq official dispatches, no one liedfd ofthem. Bui ~ now many-stories of these brave acts are being told, usually by the pals of the men who dared and died for their country and for humanity.Below die a few of these unusual stories:

How Two Yank Soldiers Held Enemy Street Till Help Came

NO INDIVIDUAL or group of Individuals can step into the limelight and stay any time without becoming the subject of criticism of one sort or another. And the American soldier during his comparatively short participation -tn the great world war has come in for his share. One of the most outstanding criticisms of the

men was ordered to go into Sergy and to hold a certain street. The Germans were still in the town and were raking all roads approaching with a storm of machine gun fire. The platoon emerged from a wooded shelter on the north bank of the Ourcq. and made its way across a sloping field toward the outskirts of the village. There it was met with a withering hall of bullets that immediately began to thin the ranks, but the men kept on going. As the little company drew nearer the town the fire from the German machine guns increased. It became so deadly accurate that by the time the platoon had entered the village only 1 20 odd of the original 50 men remained, - and James Hyland of Brooklyn, N. ¥., was one of those 20. Immediately on entering the town the platoon made its way to the street >t had been ordered to hold. The men sought shelter behind a pile of debris at the head of the thoroughfare, a poor shelter Indeed and one swept by machine guns and snipers from sides. But the lieutenant in command, who is now dead, decided that inasmuch as his orders were to stay there until relieved, there he would stay. Every Hun in that end of the town seemed be directing Ills undivided attention to the little company of Americans behind its-flimsy shelter. The snipers were everywhere. A particularly deadly fire came from machine guns placed in a Red Cross'building; so fierce was it that the men spent nearly all of their ammunition trying to get those guns, and finally rushed the building, but they had to come back. . Foodless and watefless, they stayed there all that day. As the hours dragged on, the gallant band gfrew smaller and smaller. By afternoon all of >the officers had been killed and the privates elected eommanders. who one by one were shot down. evening Hyland and one comrade—whose name. isn’t given—were all that were left of the 50 who started out in the morning. Hyland was in command, and the two men were shooting their last cartridges at the machine gunners up the street they had been ordered to hold.

How Former Circus Clown Bore His Message Through Barrage

EVER since we have all been old enough to think behind the things we see we have wondered as we have watched the antics of a circus clown just what kind of a man he really is when out from under the. big tent and moving around-in the everyday-life of man. It isn’t likely, however, that we ever thought of a clown as being of such stuff as heroes are made, but here is the story of a former circus clown who became a real hero in the great war. Charles Klein of Brooklyn, N. Y.. became a inbmber of the American ,expeditionary forces. Early in the spring, before General Foch turned

upon the Germans and began to drive them . back to where they came from, Klein was* detailed to the motorcycle squad as a dispatch rider. One day early in May, Klein was sitting in a dugout watching the big shells as they went screaming and whistling overhead. , But while Klein was watching the bombardment he received orders to -report to the

commanding officer’of the unit to which he was attached. *This officer .gave Klein a message to deliver at once, the carrying of this message ineaning that he would have to ride straight through a hot«. barrage that had just been laid down. Without a moment’s hesitation, with eagerness even, the former clown—a. mighty serious-minded courier now—took the message, mounted his motorcycle and Started on his perilous ride. “The racket sounded as though a hundred boiler factories had broken loose,"-said-Klqlp-later, -

American soldier as a fighter is that he doesn’t know when to ■ stop, that he’s reckless in his courage and seemingly devoid of all care as to his personal well-being or safety in the accomplishment of a given object. These qualities of the shown recently at the capture of the town of Sergy by the American forces. It was Sunday’ morning. A platoon of 50

“but I put on. full steam, and the old motorcycle leaped ahead like a kangaroo. “Bing! A big shell busted only, ten feet from niy machine. Bang! Another exploded to the left of me, and I put on some more steam. Then —a. whopuer hissed over me. Just missirrg the top of my»tin derby, but I kept on going. “Say. once I rnrfp a white mule in the circus that no one else could ride—he broke my arm and tattooed me with cuts and bruises. The mule’s name was Snowball, and that animal seemed to have a hundred heels every time I tried to get on her back. But. believe me. one Boche shell is worse than a hundred Snowballs, ‘ It was the hardest work I ever did to dodge the holes in the road. Bing L A shell plunked . behind me and ripped off my back tire. Bing! A piece of shrapnel knocked off my helmet, but never touched me. Then I began to smell mustard gas. My eyes watered so that it was hard for me to see. I don!t know how I did it, but I delivered my. message, and when I wdke up I was in the hospital. “Talk about mules in a circus! Mustard gas is mighty rough stuff. I’m telling you, and it doesn’t help to make speed on a motorcycle, either.” And then, because of his smile and his ability as an entertainer in the hospital, Klein was nicknamed “Sunny Charles.”

How English Aviator Exercised the Commander’s “Privilege”

AVIATORS were often compelled to destroy their own machines to prevent the Gered secret about the new type of aircraft. This is a story of an aviator who did that at the cost of his own life. ■- ■ . There were two men —the pilot and his observer — in the latest flying boat which England’s aircraft builders had turned opt. The twb flyers w’ere wellout to sea when a fog came down and cut them off from their companions. The pilot headed for home, but the engine suddenly “died.” % A hasty examination showed the pilot that only a repair shop and a squad of expert mechanics could hope to make the engine run again. He told the observer so, and the two men —the observer was really’ little more than a boy-—sat down »to watch and wait with the hope that a British patrol boat would come along and pick them up. The night came on and the young observer fell asleep. The pilot sat on the deck-coaming and listened all the night through. In the morning the fog lifted and the observer, looking out over the waters, caught sight of a little black smudge on the horizon, which grew steadily in size, and behind it another smudge and another. It was a patrol flotilla rapidly approaching them. The boy was elated. “It is German, my son,” spoke the older man in

abled plane. The pilot was crouched on the top of the under plane just over the bomb rack with a heavy wrench in his upraised hand, ready to strike" a blow. A mile away the first of the German destroyers was tearing the sea in its haste to take the broken plane and get away before the British patrol should appear. The boy turned and swam away from the tragedy which fie " knew was about to take place. A few moments later there was the. mighty roar of an explosion, and he heard the' swish of the air blast along the surface waters and the rush of the approaching wave from the sea disturb-

FUTURE HIDDEN FROM CLAY.

Could the shade of Henry Clay, roused from the slumbers of more than threescore years by the pandemonium as 100 engineers tied down their whistle cords sind shrilled forth exultant shrieks, have trod the fltrtiospheric space from his haunts in the Blue* Grass country to Sault Ste. Marie a few weeks since, and looked with dull eyes on the newly finished engineering feat spread out before his astonished gaze, he would have been forced to admit that his declaration bapk in 1840 was at least shortsighted. “It is a work quite beyond the. remotest settlement of the United States, if not in the moon," said Henry Clay on that memorable occasion, when by the power of his silver-tongued oratory he influenced the congress of the United States to defeat a measure by which a canal Could be dug around St. Mary’s f<lls. He was believed, and the project that now in finished form ranks in world importance far greater than the Suez canal, and in some minds greater than the Panama canal, was condemned as impractical. It was not "until 12 years later that congress saw its mistake and yielded to the persuasion of influential citizens of Michigan and New York to grant an appropriation of land . whereby the state of Michigan could finance the excavation of a canal. —J. Paul Chandler in Detroit Free Press. - * ; -j- —7“"

/‘How. how yqu going to vote, ,Grace?’’ “Depends on the weather. If it rains J suppose I’H have-’ to in /r 'niatKTntbslu’’^—Judge.

a quiet voice, as he turned his eyes from the smudges to his rocking craft. “Have you your life belt on securely?” “Yes,” answered the boy. “Then go over the side and swim for all you’re worth.” “But don't you want me to stay and help you?” persisted the boy. “Get over the side,” commanded the pilot sharply, “and good-by, Sonny. It is my privilege, you know.” About 200 yardsawaythe boy paused and looked back at the dis-

HER VOTE.

ance. The wave engulfed him just as he began to hear the splash of the falling debrlij, then he <knew no more. He was still sobbing deliriously when the British patrol boat picked him up an hour later. The pi lot had exercised his "privilege.”

How Man “Tackled” a Deadly Depth Bomb and Saved a Ship

IT ISN’T recorded that John' Mackenzie, chief “Boatswain’s mate in the United States naval reserve force, was once a great football player, but he was recommended for an honor medal and a gratuity of SIOO for doing one of the greatest foot by II stunts ever reported. The navy department report shows that on the morning of December 17 a depth bomb on board the destroyer Remlik broke loose from its position on the stem of the craft, and, bursting itsboxing, went bouncing about the deck. A heavy sea was on at the time; in fact, the waves werebreaking far over the stern of the destroyer, and the rolling and pitching of the little craft sent jhe big bomb flying backward and forward to port and starboard, crashing into the rails of the vessel and hitting everything upstanding on the deck

comes, pauses, seems to meditate; resumes its course, rushes along the ship from end to end like an arrow, circles about, springs aside, evades, rears, breaks, kills, exterminates.’’ The bomb was a regular sized depth charge, weighing hundreds of pounds, and it would have been impossible for anyone to have lifted it and carried it to safety even if one of the crew had cared to take the risk of catching it in its wild rushes and rollings about the deck. So the officers and men stood .for a time watching the charge as it thrashed madly about, wondering what to do, and not knowing what minute the infernal machine might explode and send all hands flying into eternity. Suddenly someone cried “The pin has come out I” Whether Mackenzie had been in some other part of the ship until that moment, or whether he had been standing with the others staring in hopeless wonder and was only aroused by the cry, reports do not say. But it is recorded that less than a second after the shout was raised the plucky Yankee boatswain’s mate dashed down the deck and flung himself on the rolling bomb, much after the fashion that football players throw themselves on the ball. Three times he had his arms about it, but each time it tore away, once almost crushing him as the roll of the ship hurled it upon him. The fourth time, however, he got a firm hold on it, and with almost superhuman effort heaved it upright on one flat end. Then Mackenzie sat down on the deadly charge—though even in that position the bomb might have exploded and blown him to atoms —and succeeded in holding it until lines could be run to, him and the charge lashed safely to the deck. The commanding officer of the Remlik in his report recommending that the medal of honor be conferred on Mackenzie, says: * “Mackenzie, in acting as he did, exposed his life and prevented a serious accident and probable loss of the ship and the entire crew. Had the depth charge exploded bn the quarterdeck with the sea and the wind that existed at the time there is no doubt that the ship would have been lost.” Mackenzie is a native of Massachusetts. His home is South Hadley Falls.

Y. M. C. A. IN DARKEST RUSSIA.

The rural group (of the American Y. M. C. A. in Russia? dealt with another need of national magnitude. The mighty Volga basin, covering more than half a million square miles, is unable even in normal times wholly to feed the huge population it holds. E. T. Cotton in Association Men says a floating exhibit was'made up to visit and impress theteeming riverside communities with the importance of more sowing, better production and fuller conservation. A staff of 35 was organized to demonstrate with models, moving pictures, lantern slides, charts and lectures such neglected subjects as seed selection, cultivation, dairying. horticulture, animal husbandry, bee keeping, domestic economy, play life for children and other aspects of community welfare. This association conception and undertaking won instant recognition, the government furnishing a steamboat, a barge and some funds.

FINDS FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH.

No place in the United States or Canada has a ■ lower death rate than Kelley’s island. Lake Erie, according to Dr. Paul Fitzgerald, chief of an eastern insurance company’s bureau of statistics. 1 The island, the home of a large stone-quarrying Industry, .is the home of approximately 5,000 people. ~ , For years the Insurance company has been Insuring a large percentage of the population but 7 never has been called upon ,to pay a death claim, says Doctor Fitzgerald, WTro thr his report to headquarters win refer head ot the fountain of youth.”-

with a force that threatened to explode it at any moment and blow the boat to scrai> iron. The actions of this engine of destruction recall Victor Hugo’s great description of the gun which breaks loose from its moorings on shipboard and “becomes suddenly some indescribable supernatural beast. It is a machine which transforms itself into a monster. This mass turns upon its wheels, has the rapid movements of a billiard ball, rolls with the rolling, pitches with the pitching; goes,