Evening Republican, Volume 22, Number 11, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 13 January 1919 — Page 2

Jones Gets a Raise

By IMES MACDONALD

(Copyright, ISIS. +>y MeCmre Newspaper Syndicate.) Young Mt. .Tones reached oVry nmi pure his adding machine a few tentaH tiTC jaha and again hi; 1 , rd in*—- ;< r, •\- erie. Five years out of a-raidwestern college. and David R. Jones had little to boast of in the way of acfiievehjcjit. He had been ambitious, but eager and ■wtlhttsiastir applicalh>n_V>_his Jh»bfor fix e long years"had faded to lift fr’Jir . out- of tiie clerk’s class. —= S-r When he lled taken tho Inti in rm-; swer to an advertisement he had been assured of “rapid advimeeiiieni. aud a ’ future for tin- right tnnrr." Hn+-lm-was_ still doing the same work he had been doing after his first .three-mum i.’*. a itli the company. He had stuck to Otw_ job with sincere and Ibdu-uimis purpose•/without its lulnging him any- •« «hiw» ia-the way »<f. ad-vawcoiumi: ::irl ' noWthritit was Jtnwagaift Th opr. r< - • pect*x»f anqfher long, hot- summer in that office galled him. With a thoughtful air he withdrew front his wallet u clipping which he had torn from his newspaper on the way downtown in the subway that morning. ■ ~~ ..- ...1. '. “WANTED—Athletic young man as ’ boatman on gentleman's estate, Connecticut shore. Must be expert swimmer—know motorboats, sailboats ami . canoes —make repairs and be generally useful and obliging; Sfifi monthly and hoard-. See Mrs. Agnes Turner between 10 and 12 Tuesday, Hotej Arkwright?' - And after he had read the ad —through once more yo.ung Mr. Jones arose from his desk and entered the private office of his great and. exclm sive boss, the well-known Mr. Henry I‘. Riggs. Mr. Riggs, or ‘.‘Old H. 1’.." as he was galled in the outer office, stared at the impulsive Xlr. Jones with surly surprise. The privacy of his domain had never before been so violated. “Well?" he demanded. “I’m Jones,” said Jones, “David R. Jones I’ve been with this emimany live years. I have a fair education, a certain amount of brains ami some ability. When_Lctuue here I was promtsed rapid advancement and a future, and before I die of old age at $35 a week I thought I'd go into the matter with you." “Well?" repeated Old 11. I', sourly. “I want a man's job and $3,000 a year from today or I’m through.” Old H. P. glared, and the barest crinkle of a sarcastic smile puckered up one corner of his mouth. "You’re

through, all right!" he agreed, "and you won’t find tliree-tliousaud-dollar jobs mr trees around this town," young man.” “Apyway,” grinned Jones affably, "I don’t intend to hang on this tree till I’m rotten. There are plenty of other trees growing in the orchard of Manhattan." “Very well.” growled Old H. I’., turning back to his desk. “But if you don't -get your fancy job you earn httvt- > mir old one here any time before die first of September," he flung over his shout’ der. "Hull!" he grunted a few days later when the incident recurred to him. "The young squirt_! And 1 was proud' of fifteen a week at his age!" But kt that very moment David It. Jones, clad in a sleeveless jersey and I an old pair of flannel trousers, was tuning up the engine of a high-powered motorboat up on the Connecticut shore. “Hello, boatman!" shouted a voice above the dm, and Jones looked up to see a smiling face peering at him over the edge of the doek. She swung her logs over the side and turned around with the, intention ,of sliding down'backwards- to the deck: of the boat, spine slx. feet Her skirt caught on a bolt, but she kept right cm sliding till the modest Mr.! Jones was c«vmpeHed :;to turn his face | 2 — a : —- —rrw* r---—-l",- , I - away. . r ~ "Unhook me.” she finally, wafted in-j dignantly. And Jones, wiping his dirty hands or. a piece of waste, reached up obediently and unhooked her, 'setting ,her safely on her feet With ;; grin. . *.‘My«—pi\- coming was jjui-te a rev elation,.wasn't it?” she said deiiiureiy, the color deepening in her.cheeks. But Jones had pretended not tff" no< tice. although tlie- nice men who pretend never to notice are the Very ones who never miss anything. “Who might you be?” he asked pleasantly. "I’m Lotta. the youngest.” she laughed. "Carlotta KiggsT you know. W oniy got here just a. little while ago—Louise and Nina and Aunt Agnes. Aunty says you impressed her very favorably at your interview- in town, and she thinkic_vouTe going, to lie 4 verynice boatman. What’s your name?"" • And froin thar day forth 'David It. ■ Jones was Lot tit’s very own. She appropriated him as |Sohiethiiig sent to her by the gods for her own especial pleasure and amusement. Together they painted the boats —mended, the dock —rebuilt the float. Sturdily she worked irr ’his side, and in between rimes they swam together. If the rest of the family noticed it at all they mere)y qinssed i-t otlwith k shrug— for after ail Lotta was only a kid, but—The’day H. fV-Riggs was expected up to spend a week with his family. Lotto and Jones went across the" bayin’ the motorboat to. meet him, and he m a H j.tiintiy young boatihan by his daughter. At first he did npt .recognize Joaos, but the way Lotta hovered over

that young man drew her father’s findivided attention and disapproval—and while he glowered over his (laughter’s so apparent afT<‘Ction for his er>twhile clerk. .1 or. es’ident itv regi siered 1 tsel f on hTstTnain. - ■ “Davy isn’t really a 1 .boatman." explained L«>tta to her father that night a t the diniier f a ble, “tie's Ju s t II ve tv nice young nu|n who worked his head off five whole years for .a grouchy obi ma n woiTldnTygrve him a -chanae. made tip hi* mind to have a nice vtu'iiiinii this summer ami Imd a better'job fiill " —*~'«nd as Usual Lotta hurried through her dinner ami, slipped down_jo the |»eiwh ami Duty Jones. ■ "Why, darn it all said Davy, a few tuuiules later? "You shouldn't have told him that. Your father was the old guy who wouldn't; give me a --idmner” 1 . And Lot insntback —against — .furnmi iwwr W H»w>*o»Aent "XjFafi thing.:" sbd said. disrespectfully, with ; visions in her young .mind of putting it *over on iter, father? Then she, leaned tier slim length ticuinst Davy J<hits? with one hail'd curled behind his neck ‘- - and if yo'u'x e novciT st-audhig as Lotta wiis, begging to ho kissed, you probably know just wlmt Jolies <ll<l. gbou.t It, “Siuee. Uie v>my- first jirLvy ih'ar. I’ve been wanting you to kiss me," J she was stiyinc. aS the glow of < lid , 11. I’.'s. cigar came around t'ae.corner .of the boathouse. For a moment he stopped and watched the two who stood so close together there, Iris daughter find Davy Jones—then he ■walked over and faced them grimly. old job back again.” said 11. I’. Riggs to the startled Mr; Jone*. '‘When a man's married he rather needs a Job. doesn’t he? But the two of you can’t live on thirty-live a week." “Lotta says we can,” grinned Jones,, hugging that willing .voting w oman, just a bit closer—and then he bluffed a little? “However.we Won’t have to. I'm starting with Rogers. Wyman & Co., the first of September at $3,500 a year." —s ~ Whereupon ' Tmt t a "squeezed fits arm and eyed her father hostilely. For a moment IL P. Riggs withstood that glance and then he extended his hand with a grin. , - "On: the contrary, Dave." fie said almost genially, “you're starting with H. P. Riggs & Co. at415.1)00 —and eventually pfiHnefship.” ~ Abd then Lotta graciously transferred one of Davy Jones’ kisses to her father and back again. ,

DESIGNED FOR THE CURIOUS

Not Hard to Trace Origin arid Reason for the Gazebo in Architectural Designs. . . No name could be more descriptive than gazebo for a building, whether It assume the form of a tower or balcony. Which was erected for the purpose of enabling anyone to gaze about: anri -there is no need to hunt throughthe pages of a dictionary for the origin of so obvious a term. Curiosity is common to the race, and contrivances, of all kinds have been - called for throughout the r.ges. ami will continue to he. w enable penpfp to pry into their neighbors' affairs; and architeetural solutions of the problem nirnst always be as interesting as they have f r>~epienll y’ Proved most pi on;.re<<y; ( ■. Doubtless in the remotest ..antiquity, such mentis of prying were in vogue, and the hanging gardens of Babylon may have presvnted ? replicas of the -troverswvf-Rent* or . Chambers ; brrt we will go no further back for examples than Pliny's villfi at Laurentmti. The Plinys, as we know, were of a very inquiring turn of mind,' and are most appropriately comtnemorated at Como, their supposed birthplace, on the west front of the cathedral, by a sculptured representation of each engaged in looking out oFa wrindow. Thus it was That .when Pliny the Younger built his celebrated villa he gave it two towers, and as they could be used neither for defense in such a place nor for smoking, rooms at Sfieh -a period, we. can only suppose them to, have been erected to serve as gazbbos where he could IbblFlnt^(vThe'gfdutiTlsriif ami watch their incomings and outgoings.—J. Travenor Perry in Architect (England). ' .

Joe’s Mistake.

Six-year-old Joe had the influenza. Knowing, that Aunt .Anne always brought gifts to her sick nephews and nieces he expressed a desire to see Iter. She came and brought with her several toys and books. Eight-year-old Virginia and Aunt Anne were both at Joe’s bedside 'when mother brought in his medicine. Joe fretted against taking It, and Aunt Anne generously offered t- "If you-’ll take it like a little man auntie will get you a hew solidier’s cap.” she premised. A few miputes later in the dining room? adjoining the sick room she heard the gift dlscussed. . "You didn’t ■take on enough. Joe," .Virginia’, wits criticizing her brother. .“If you had cried loud like everything you got a whole suit of clothes."

Good From Alchemy.

The philosopher’s stone never existed except hypothetically in the imagination of credulous humanity. But but of the efforts of many thoughtful men .the present has grown with its enlightened views and fuller knowledge. Alchemy, although in many respects a remarkable example of the extent to which human s reason may aberrate, can never be without bitmap interest, • It brought to View many fresh fields of research, and' led to tlie discovery of many facts of great importance during its strange and devious career. > V

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN. RENSSELAER.

Quick Change in Style of Gowns

i New York. —It fs'llme to change a few things in women’s apparel, asserts a prominent fashion authority. Women are leaping from uniforms into medieval gowns of gobi, and crystal, and tulie jn brilliant colors, and into smashing furs and red street appafel. ~ There are - sign ifieaHt- ehn nges working up from the ground. Tlwre is the new decolletage which was prophesied in this departniont w<’el;s ago ami which Ip coming into view as smart women exploit it. Half a dozen new ways of '’cutting the m-ckline have leaped into collars claim the" blue ribbon—-ef—ex-celli nee. No matter whether we dress differently about the hips and Jeet, we are dressing "decidedly differently about the neck t.nd ev. n lli“ w.rjsis. It is in li. " ?tfisc = tlie = great tnaSk of women are interested who do not feel that they can afford entirely new gowns for the midseason. . ’Pile artist who said that all changes in fashions for women consisted in the placeihent of. the bulge, of the absence of it. should have added that the open spaces in costumes were second in importance. Cut to the bone, there is no doubt that he was right. The contour is the thing. It is where a garment goes' In or out that determines its fashion. Few women there are who are brave enough to go against the contour of the hour, even though it may not suggest the best there is in their figures. New Decolletage. The change in the neckline is perhaps the most important to the average woman. She has belief in herself when it comes to cutting a new kind of neckline. She feels that a good pair of eeissors may be the medium of Transforming an old gown into a new gown by the simple process of turning an oblong neck into a round one, a square one, or a U-shaped one.

V-shaped decolletage in back of a black velvet evening gown which is cut high in front. This idea is worked out in many types of gowns, even those for street. Delta decoiletage shown in new brocade evening gown in white and gold. This neckline originated in the Elizabethan days.

All history is filled with rapid changes in the neckline, and so far we have not had anything new.■ We have rung the bells of history all over again. Thai is all. When Edward II was king, of England the women wore the georgette. which wrinkled about the neck and spread outward over thb chin and! the back of the head. This was introduced to fashion a few years ago through a dancer and her clever designer. It is still worn by women who go motoring, and they make it of dark blue crepe or veiling, rather than of white satin. When Richard II was king his French queen brought over the fashion of the low neck, and so. after centuries, women dropped the neckband of the gown from chin to collar bone.' , When Elizabeth was. queen of England the delta decolletage was invented, and it ran along with another neckline that exposed all the chest and half the shoulders, and then, as if by a sudden spasm, of prudery, liid the neck and ears by an immense ruff. When James I came to the throne ..fif England hiS queen introduced the very degollete. tight bodice with' its immense, flaring collar of wired lace at the back, and when Charles I allowed • Henriette of France rto lead the fashions for his court, there was the low, round mx’kline'TFiat dipped well downward in the back and was finished with a deep vandyke collar that extended ovgr the sleeves. In the picturesque days of Queen Anne women introduced the low, square cut dectilletage. of collar, which our women have worn for two decades; and In the,middle, of .the eighteenth century, in the Georgian era, women used a simple decolletageiH a rounded.. V outlined With a wrinkled" handkerchief as a part of their street attire. Running the mind over this slight

summary of historical changes in the decolletage, it is easy to see that we have done nothing new; btit here is what we are going to do at the immediate moment the ' delta of the Elizabethan times, the deep square of v Queen Anne, with its tight, high U-shaped decolletage of the end of the eighteenth century, with its modesty piece <>f lace. ; 1 Return of Lace Collars. We have gone through; a season of r medieval severity in the—neckline. > Women have aided nature which made jhmu ugly or inade them beautiful by 7 going, about • ! without any softening effect at the. .neck, by wearing coat collars of heavy • ihomespun Uiirelleved by white,-and-by-.'he use of Y*shape"d lines of ii■•avy vei''veteeh and crepe' which fashion kept unadorned. True to history this was, but not true to arr.' -There were few women . who looker] their best, in such severity. Today collars return slowly. There are still those who tell you they .are not smart, but at the [ exclusive house there is a tendency to put precious lace, on the new neckline. It is not a V-shaped neckline; it is a deep U which calls for a softening outline and an extremely soft arrangement of lace or tulle across the: bust. The Queen Anne decelletage which hugs the side of the neck and runs down into a narrow L-shaped opening Is extremely sniart, and it is banded with fur and then filled in with fine folds of silk net. It is felt by‘those who haye their hands on the pulse of fashion that the oblong neckline of the Renaissance is no longer smart, although it is worn by some well-dressed women,* Double Neckline. There is a disposition on the part of some designers to make a double neckline, and this they do by a subtle

arrangement of thin fabrics. A certain designer has turned out a remarkably brilliant gown of raspberry Chiffon having a deep U-shaped decolletage outlined with chinchilla which swings the? chiffon with the movement of the figure, as though ft were a necklfice. Beneath it, and hugging , the bust in the eighteenth century manner, is a bodiee with a rounded decolletage. There will be an oblong Renaissance neckline that reaches fronnfshoulder to shoulder; cut on a tight satin bodice, and over that will swung a looser bodice of colored chiffon or tulle which is high at the back and has a long, rounded line in front that drops to the waist. Black and seal brown velvet afternoop gowns have the Queen Anne decolletage, which follows the exact line where the neck is placed on the body, until it gets to the collar bone, where it dips into a straight, dfcjen space half way to the waist. This is_DUtUned with fur. Again, it may be outlined with Venetian point. The delta decolletage is considered the most becoming of all for evening wear. Gfet out any picture of Elizabethan times and you will see what is meant. In that gorgeous era the women wore a jeweled piece of open net over the shoulder to the base of the neck at each side, and then the decolletage spread’downward and outward to the arm-pits. Take this change in the neckline seriously. It will govern the clothes of the next few weeks, (Copyright, ISIS, by MeClure Newspaper Syndicate.)

White Collars.

In spite of the fact that some AT the newest frocks, have po white at the throat, and thab others savoy the ; rounded neck, with lace and a tucker, still others feature h white satin collar that is high at’ the~nehk‘ afid that exi tends in the front over th*- boj'ct quite to the waistline.

VINTAGE TIME IN TUSCANY

IT WAS the vintage time, and I tried to forget that half of Christendom was plunged in a great war. Leaving the fighting line, I wandered about in the lovely freedom of the hill country of Tuscany, past villas which are surmised rather than seen through the long vistas of grave, still cypresses and around smiling, silvergreen olive slopes from whose summits beckon dignified palace fortresses of the Medicis or sternei’ and more aged ivy-docked towers, writes a Tuscany correspondent of the New York Evening Post. Finally, I reached the road of my morning’s quest and stopped where a high wall, after many turns and twists, suddenly openedto a vision of green terraces. It was the gate to the podere hpon which Toni nown dhis for ebeapsTna velabore-d forth© last century and a half—the family “going to the land,” not as serfs, but as willing servants of the soil. Entering the terraced farm, I skirted a stout wall with ivy spreading lovingly over its gray stones; a hedge of winter roses followed me in fragrant companionship all the way to Tonino’s farmhouse,'a structure poised bravely over a precipitous ledge of rocks. The house itself might be called an architectural slant of walls, chimneys, stone flags and steps running off and down in all directions till they seem to merge with the vines and the olive tree and the green sod. I lingered a moment, then followed in the wake of a primitive oxcart, painted bright red, on which the empty grape vats rumbbl ed sonorously as the plodding beasts dragged their draft over the stony road.

Harvesting the Grape Crop.

It was a pagan—almost bacchanalian —picture, as those huge cattle, white and big-horned, moved slowly and processionally down the way, flanked by grape vines in endless, festive wreaths and festoons strung from tree to. tree. At the lower terrace a host of neighbors was busily at work cutting the dew-moist grapes, dropping the luscious bunches into picturesque baskets lying all about. The sun played in glad, shifting shadows in and out of the vines and olive trees, while the damp soil, drinking in the solar Warmth, Exuded a moisture heavily odorous with the abounding vitality of Mother Earth.

The harvesters included many women. some territorial soldiers on leave and a few children. No one, old or young, gave signs of fatigue; the labor was pursued slowly and easily, not at all as a struggle in overcoming time, or resistance.. It whs this seeming slowness of the laborers in Italy which often gives to the outsider, especially to the nervous and strenuous American observer, the impression of a wastage of time in the accomplishment of things. This apparent slowness, however, is rather a wise restraint and distribution of effort, coupled with traditional skill or special hardiness, which bring about results by deftness as well as by mere expenditure of force. . . So, at this harvesting, all of that crowded, terraced acreage had been shorn of its grapes by sundown, and all the fruit carried away to the wine press. Supper for Tonino’s Laborers. At nine in the evening we gathered at Tonino’s house for the harvest supper, to which, by immemorial custom,' everyone who has labored in the vineyards must be invited. We entered by the kitchen door, near which hung a little oil lamp patterned flfter those of the Etruscans ; at the long table in the main room of this casa colonica sat three generations bf harvesters—- • 24 men, women and children. A, warm, soothing, “natural” odor of oxen and stable came thinljrnnd not unpleasantly into the feast chamber, which had that dignity of proportion and fine simplicity of Imes which speaks of Tuscan taste, even in these humble quarters. A light hung from the center of the celling threw a rather dim illumination over, the festive a.mgly. fotL jtg J:o, see all the good things Whiefi awaited our impending attack. First soup was served from huge bowl? into deep, ca-

A Road in Tuscany.

pacious. dishes; next came a rich and satisfying frltto misto, and then largeplatters, burdened with pasta redolent with an herb savored sauce. There, was plenty of honest wine h> wash down the huge slashes of war bread served out generously to all of us. No Bitterness in War Talk. After the pleasant business of eating was over the men started talking about the war. It was a simple, rather objective discussion. without bitterness or hatred, of something unpleasant, which had to be done, but; all must wish that it should be ended and laid aside as soon as possible. Then the conversation waxed warm in the more direct and personal realities of the year’s corps, and the promise for the comliTg- -seasons. — One by one the little children snuggled closer to their mothers’ sides and childish heads bent sleepily over the table or fell, relaxed and safe, on arms soft and solicitous with maternal care. The drowsiness of a hard day’s labor crept irresistibly upon the men, urging them to well-earned and refreshingsleep. We said good night and started homeward; the little oil lamp by the door had flickered out, but a faint moonlight was bathing the landscape in a soft, mystical indistinctness; far 'away the domes and towers of Florence rose skyward like dream symbols of hopes and darings, of love and faith. I sat in contemplation, watching the moonlight wax stronger and brighter, making more real and definite the picture of peace on earth spread so wondrously before me, till my thoughts wandered away to another harvest scene, far removed among sterner but no less peace loving mountains, a harvest scene of battle wherein men like those with whom I had gathered grapes today were the protagonists. We have been told of the thrill of a gallant assault and the stirring emotions of a brave defense, but what of the harvest after the decisive fighting is over and one walks over the fields plowed by the merciless artillery and harrowed by the struggles and the sufferings of men. What of the fruitage of battle, not alone of the dead and the wounded w r e have been told so often, but of all the other and indescribably sad things which the eye and the heart of the harvest gathers!

Amidst Scenes of Desolation. Look! A once flourishing town, with not a single one of its Imuses unscathed, and most of them hdrribly rent asunder, showing the debris of what had once been the privacy and the .sanctity of peaceful hearths. In the partial shelter of these shells of homes along the main streets of the town, countless men are sitting or crouching, in full fighting equipment, waiting for orders to proceed to the front trenches, where a battle has just been fought and won. Let jjs walk to the battlefield; it i» reached pine wood Still smoking resinously "from the fires which the burs ting shells have started. The road is wholly exposed to the range of the enemy’s artillery, but thousands of men have gallantly crossed it in order to reach their comrades in the trenches beyond. You can see what the harvest has been here! There are fragments of shrapnel and .unexploded shells along every foot of the line; by the whir of the>. projectiles still passing over our heads we can reconstruct the scene of fire of some hours ago; the shells whizz by us with that horrible suggestive rotatory sound which seems to say: Coming, Coming. Bang—and you flier

Dog Had Something to pay.

The Hon. John W. Davis, appointed oUr ambassador in London in’succession to Mr. Page, is an eminent lawyer. ' . Mr. Davis tells the story of a very small boy who was. trying to lead a lug St. Bernard up a busy thoroughfare. “Where are’ you going tq take ..W- goidßfc passerby. *T —I’m going to see where —where he wants to go first,” was the breathless reply.