Evening Republican, Volume 22, Number 19, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 22 January 1919 — Page 2

Jones Gets a Raise

By IMES MACDONALD

(Copyright, I9IS. by McClure Newspaper Syndicate.) Young Mr. Jones mrctrerf ew* ihM riMe hD-mlding nrii-hitw-a fvw mini ■ jj ve j ;l |>s and again lapsed a revertp; —Five years' on' of a college. niHi D;niil K. Jones jiail tittle bl boast of in rhe way of aehievement. He htrtl-be<‘ir nuiliii ions, < 1 lit eager and enthusiastic application to his job for five long years hart failed to lift 'h’jn out of the clerk’s class. When he had taken the Job in answer to an ■■ advert i-emen't TIP had !>• en assured of ?'trapid>«dvanccmeflt and a . future for the right niiin.” 1 *>»< h<- wa t: still doing tin* same work he bad been -■ qfjy 1 * firKt three months wllLl thr company. He had stuck -to one. job with sincere ami industrious purpose without its bringing him my thing in tlie way of advtu ■ ■■ ■ ■' and now That it wns z June again the pros - pect of another long, hot summer in that office galled him. With a thoughtful air he withdrew Hom his wallet a clipping which lie had torn from his newspaper on the way —downtown in -rhe spbwny - that rooming; " 7 ~ “WANTED—Athletic young man as boatman on genthntrnuV -estate. Con necticut shore. Must be expert swimmer—know motorboats, sailboats'and useful and obliging; S(SO monthly and board. . See Mrs. Agnes Turner between 10 and 12 Tuesday. Hotel Arkwright." ,And after he had read the ad Jhrough once more young Mr. Jones arose from his desk and entered the ■private office of his great and exclusive boss, the well-known Mr. Henry I’. Riggs. Mr. Riggs, or “Old H. 1’.." as he was called in the outer office, stared at the impulsive Mr. 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 company five years. I have a fair education, a —certain amount of brains and sonit ability. When I came here 1 was promised rapid advancement and a future. —and before I die of old age at $35. a week I thought Td go into the matter with you.” “Well?” repeated Old H.P. sourly. ■ “I want a man's job and $3,000 u year from today or I'm through." ohl H. I*. glared, ami the baresv crinkle of a sarcastic, smihmpuckered tip one corner of his mouth. “You're through, all right!” he agreed, “and you won't find three-thousand dollar jobs hanging on trees around this town, young man." —— “Anyyv&y,” grinned Jones affably, "1 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 IJ, ; I’.. turning back to his desk. “But if you don't get your fancy job you can have your old one here any time before the first, of September." he filing over his shoulder. “Huh!" 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 at that very moment Dav id R. Jones, clad in a sleeveless jersey and an old pair of flannel trousers, was tuning up the engine of a high-powered motorboat up on the Connecticut shore. “Hello, boatman I” shouted a voice above fbe din. and Jones packed up to see a smiling face peering at him over the-edge of the doekr She Swung tier legs over the side and turned around with the intention of sliding;-down backwards to- the deck of the beat, some six feet below. Her skirt caught on a boll. ■ but she kept right on sliding till the modest Mr. Jones was compelled to turn his- face away. “Unhook ,iAc." she finally wailed in- ! dignantly. And Jones, wiping his dirty hands on a piece of waste, reached up obediently and unhooked her, setting her safely on her feet with a grin. “My—-my coming was quite a reveTalion,, wasn't ii?” she said demurely...the_ color deepening in her cheeks. BSTbJones "had pretended not to no* ; tice, although the 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 Higgs, you know. We only got here just a 1 ittlt* while ago - Louise and Nina and Aunt Agnes. Aunty says you impressed her very favorably at your interview in and she thinks you're going to be a verynice boatman. What's your name ?“ And from .that day forth David R. Jones-, was .Lotto's very own. She appropriated him as something 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’wt fits side; and in between rimes they* swam together. If the rest. <if the famtly noticed It at all they . merely passed it off With a shrug—for after ail Lotta was only a kid, but— The day H. P. Riggs wda expected tip to sjHuid a wf»ek with his family’. Lot m and Jones wefit the hay in the tnotopboat to ineet him' and he J»as Jriiroduired to the bare-shouldered, brawny young boatman by Ips daughfirst lie did ;JWt. recognize /ones, bat the way Lotta hovered over

that yffung m'an drew her father 1 * undtvlfled tftt>?ntlon and dlssppfov^l— n nd while he glowen d over his daughter's so apparent affection for his erstwhile clerk. Jci-.o' identity registered itself on his brain. --< —— “Davy finT really a boatman,*” 7 explained Let t a tn her lalher that night at rhe dinneY table, “lie's jtisi a very ni< <■ young man v,ho worked hi- head off live whole P'iirs for a grqmliy old man who. wouldn't give him a cluume, D'avy made up his tniml t«> a nice vacation this-summer and find a , Uetter .lob next fqfi,"l ... .. * Amt ns iisn.-il Lpttii Imriicd through. ;-her dinner nisi slipped down. to the beach oand -1 >avy Jtmes, “ t A\'ky, rhrrn it >rH !" saffll L>ayyk a few mbmti- later. “You shouldn't have' lohj. him licit. Your father u:is the jold •— wfin —WTiti ldrrt~-gbre7a-cimnee !" , And Lotta sat back agaiirsff sin up* ruined boat in umazememr" “Mean old , tLiug!" slm said. ..dmrc.si>e.c..tfull.v, .with 1 visions in her yom'ig mind of putting ■ it o\i r i n hi-r father. . Tlmn*sho iesm■li her jin lepmli m siinst Daw j.wies. with one hand curled behind his neck —and it .voti vt*"'e'vc : r h;td anyone VOfl . ■.. . s a- ■ 1 -o' t a vv a beggFn3 to he kissed, you probably know just vvliat .ba.i- did about it. ‘ “Sitiee tlje very first day, Pavyutear, li’ve been wanting you to kiss me," she was .saying, as the glow of Old H. P.'s cigar Cfime around the .corner of the boat house. For a moment he stoppetl ami watched the two who stood s<> closetogether there,his ila 11.111. r uml—Da.v_y—Jones-xllum—he walked over and faced them .grimly. “I suppose, you'll be 'wanting your old job back’again." saTd H. P? Riggs' to the startled .Mr. Jones. “When a man's' married he rather needs a job,iloesu t he? Itul“tTu>“fvvb“7vf you ctm't live on thirty-five a week.” "Lottti says we can." grinned Jones, hugging that willing young vyoman just a bit closer —and then he bluffed a little. “However, we won’t have to. I'm start with Rogers. Wyman &• Co., the first of September at $3,500 a yea r,” , Whereupon Lotta squeezed his arm and eyed her father hostilely. For a moment H P. Riggs withstood that glance and then he. extended his hand wlth-a-grin, “On the contrary, Dave.” lie said almost genially, “you’re starting with H. P, Riggs & Co. at $5.000 —and eventually a—a part n ers h i p.” And then Lotta graciously transferred one of Davy Jones’ kisses to her father and back again.

DESIGNED FOR THE CURIOUS

Not Hard to Trace Origin and 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; and there is no need to hunt through the pages of a dictionary for the origin of so obvious a term. Curiosity is common to the race, and contrivance# of all kinds have been - called for throughout the ages, and vyill continue to be. to enable- people to pry into their neighbors' affairs ; and architectural solutions of the problem must always be as interesting as tliey have f rcq 11 ellll y proveel most picturesque? “ I»oubtless in the remotest antiquity such means of prying were in vogue, and the hanging gardens of Babylon may have presented replicas of the lowers of Kent or Chambers; but we will go tio further back for examples than Pliny's villa at I.auremum. —The_ Plinys, as we know, were of a very inquiring'turn of mind, and are most nptiropriately commemorated at Como, their supposed birthplace, on the west front of the cathedral, by a sculptured representation of each engaged in looking out of a.window. 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 such a period, we can only suppose fliem to have been erected to serve as gazebos where- he could look into the grounds of his neighbors amV watch their incomings and outgoings—J. Travenor Perry tn 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 her. She came and brought with her several toys and .books. Eight-year-i ofif Virginia and Aunt Anne wyfe both at Joe's bedside when mother brought iin his medicine. Joe fretted against I ng it, and Aunt Afine geperously offered: “If you’ll take it like a lit* tie man auntie will get yoy a new soldier's cap." she promised. A few minutes later in the dining room adjoining the sick room she 'heard the gift discussed. “You didn’t take <m enough, Joe." Virginia . was. criticizing her brother. “If you had Cried loud like everything you'd.a got a whole stilt of clothes.”

Good From Alchemy.

i' The philosopher’s stone never existed except hypothetically in the lmaginatioh W credulous humanity. But out of the efforts. of inhn.v thoughtful men the present has. grown with its enlightened views and fulTer knowledge. Alcheinv. although in many respects .a remarkable example of the. extent to which human reason may aberrate, can never bp without hutpan interest. It brought to view many fresh fi el dtp .oL. res earth, and led to the, of many facts of great importance during, Its strange and devious career. •

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN. RENSSELAER. IND.

Quick Change in Style of Gowns

1 New York, —It "is time to change a few things apparel, asserts a prominent fashion ahthbrity. Women are leaping fropi uniforms ifito inedu»val gowns of gold, and crystal, and tulle in brilliant colors, and injo - There ara ;stgnifitTiTrt* ehangys w<>rking up front the ground. There is the new decolletage which vv;is prophesied In this department weeks ago and which f-ominj; i»un view :is smart i women exploit it. Half a doz.cn new j ways of cutting the neckline have leaped into existence and a dozen new i eolhirs i.-laim rhe blue, .ribbon of exi cellence. No matter whether we dress | differently, about the hips’and feet, ! we are dressing decidedly differently —about tiw ne«'k and even the wrists. It is in these significant changes I th-,, t’u- ;-|-o:it mi:.-< Ilf Women are int. r.stcd who do hot foe! that they can 1 afford entirely new gowns for the midseason. ; The artist who!said that all changes in fashions for women consisted in the placement of the bulge, or 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 be was right. The contour m tlie. thing. It is where a garment goes In or out determines its fashion. Few women there Tire who are brave enough to go against the contour of 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 herselff when it comes to cutting a new kind of neckline. She feels that a good pair of scissors 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. ' j

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 decolletage 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 fiew. We have rung the bells of history aril over again. That is all. When Edward II was king of: England the; women wore the geor* gette. which wrinkled about the neck and spread outward over thfi 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 brdtight'* over the fashion of the low neck, and so. after centuries, women dropped the neckband of the gown from chin to collar bone. \ v When Elizabeth was queen of England the delta decolletage was invented, and it ra© along with another neckline that exposed-all the chest and half the shoulders, apd, then, as if by a sudden spasm of prudery, hid the neck and ears by an immense ruff. When James I came to the throne of England his queen introduced the very decollete, tight bodice with its immense, flaring collar of wired lace at' the back. <and when Charles —I allowed Henriette of France to lead tire fashions for fiis court, there was the low, round neckline that dipped v»ell downward in the back and wgs finished with a deep collar that extended over the sleeves. AKffelyiMnftP introduced the low, square cut decGHetage/guilttess of col-~ ■lar, which our women have worn sos «two decades; and in the middle of the eighteenth century, in the Georgian era, women used a simple decolletage in a . rounded V’ outlined with ■ a wrinkled handkerchief as a part of their street tttdxe. Running the mind over this slight

summary of historical changes in the decolletage, it is easy to see that we have done nothing new;. but here Is what we are going to do at the immediate moment: Revive the delta, of the Elizabethan times, the deep square of Anne, with Ttfitight, high -hue-at- the side of the EiiCk, and tte U-shaped decolletage of the end of the eighteenth century, with its modesty pii <■!• nf la<-<. Return of Lace, Qgfttaai — We have gone through a season of medieval severity in the neckline. Women have aided nature which made them ugly or cheated nature which made them beautiful by going about without a'ny softening effect at 1 the neck, by wearing coat collars of heavy lioiuespun unrelieved by white, and by the use of V-shaped lines of heavy velwmcOT'wrtrtr unadorned. True to history this was, hut not true' to art. There were few women .who looked their best in such severity. Today collars return slowly. There' art? still those who tell you they are not smart, but at the exclusive house there is a tendency to put precious lac'e on the new neckline. It is not a V-shaped neckline; it is a deep L' VYhich calls for a softening outline and an extremely 1 "Soft arrangement of lace or tulle across the bust. ~ T The Queen Anne decolletage which hugs the side of the neck and runs do wn into a -narrow L-shaped opening is extremely smart, and it is banded with fur and then filled In with fine folds of sillTnetr - It is felt by those who have their hands on the pulse of fashion that the oblong neckline of the Renaissance is no longer smart, although 1t 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 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 it were a necklace. Beneath it, and hugging the bust in the eighteenth; century manner, is a bodice with a rounded There will be.an oblong Renaissance neckline that reaches from shoulder to shoulder, cut -on a tight satin bodice, and over that will be swhng a looser bodice of colored chiffon dr 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 afternoon 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, open space half way to the waist. This is outlined with fur. Again, it may be outlined with Verft’t'iaiT'point. The delta decolletage is considered the most becoming of all for evening wear. Get out any picture of Eliza-, bethan times and you-will see what is meant. In that gorgeous era • the women wore a jevi eled plece of open net over the shoulder to the .base of Hm neck at each side, and then' the decolletage spread downward tind outward to the arm-pits. ’ ' Take this change in the neckline seriously. It will govern the clothes of the next few weeks. - i - (Copyright, 191 K by McClqre Newspaper Syndicate.)

White Collars.

In spite of the fact that some of the newest frocks have no white at tl\e throat,’ and that others favor the rounded neck, with lace and a tucker, still others feature a white satin collar that is high at the neck and that fxt tends in the front ovec th* 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 K sterner and more aged ivy-decked towers, writes a Tuscany correspondent of the New York Evening Post. Finally, I reached the road of mjr morning’s questand stopped where a high wall, after many turns and twists, suddenly opened to a vision of green terraces. It was the gate to the podere upon which Tonino and his forebears have labored for the 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, chimneyfe, 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 rumbbled 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 antLprocessionally 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-bas-kets lying all about. • The sun played in glad, shifting shadows in and out of the vines and olive Wees, 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 was 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 U>r 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 sOpper, to which, by Immemorial custom, everyone who has labored in the vineyards must be invited, We entered by the kitchen door, near jwhich hung a little oil lamp patterned after those of the Etruscans; a| the long table in the main room of this casa colonica sat three generations of harvesters — 24 men, women and children. A warm, soothing, “natural" odor of oxen and stable came thinly and not unpleasantly into the feast chamber, which had that dignity of proportion and fine simplicity of lines .which spekks of Tuscan taste, even in these hiimble quarters. A light, hung from thejjenter of the ceiling threw a rather dim illumination over the festive board, but amply sufficient for us to see all the goofl tbiugs which awaited. ~our intending attack. First soup was served from huge bowls into deep, Ca-

A.Road in Tuscany.

pacious dishes ; next came a rich and satisfying fritto misto, and then large platters, burdened with pasta redolent with an herb savored sauce. There was plenty of. hoqest wine to 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 coming 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 .''elicitous with maternal care. The drowsiness of a hard day’s labor crept irresistibly upon the men, urging them to well-earned and refreshing sleep. 1 We said good night and starts ed 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 pp 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 TheThatvest: after the dectsiveTflghttng is over and one Walks over the fields plowed by the merciless artillery and hari’dwed by the struggles and the sufferings of men. What of the fruitage of battle, not alone of the dead and the wounded we 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. LookT A once—flourishing little town, Wjth not a single one of its houses unscathed, and most of them horribly 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 qs walk to the battlefield; it is. reached through a pine wood still smoking resinously from the fires .which the bursting 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 pan reconstruct the scene of nre of some hours ago; the shells whizz by us with that horrible suggestive rotatory sound which seems to say : Coming, Coming, Bang—and you die!

Dog Had Something to Say.

The Hon. John' \V. Davis, appointed ony HtnDQScfl,QQr-*<K,xx>DQuu- *u Buycvjy? sion to Mr. Page, is an eminent lawyer. ' .'- Mr. Davis tells the story of a very small boy who was trying to lead a - big St. Bernard up a busy • thoroughfare. “Where are you going to take that dog, my little chap?" inquired a passerby. “I—l’m going to see. where™. —where he wants to go first/’ was the breathless reply. .. » .