Evening Republican, Volume 23, Number 10, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 10 January 1920 — Page 2

SEVENTY-FIVE AND BOARD

By K. P. MERRYMAN

irn. W Uynatcef) .Yellow sunllght poured through the west windows of the library. Myriad dust particles floated along the slanting sun paths that slid abruptly Into shadow at the table's edge. The assistant professor bf biology pat humped over a book that lay upon the table before him, but he was not concentrating, at least not upon the text. With a thump of his fist that set the book jumping be raised his head and looked about the big, Quiet room. The assistant professor took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes and stretched. Then be shoved his hands Into his tilted back in his chair and surveyed the shelves of dogeared volumes opposite him. It gave him an immense satisfaction, this bare, low-vaulted room with its brown walls and poild. brown tables and its rows and rows of books. The assistant professor pulled out a crumpled bit of paper from his pocket and smoothed it out upon'the book, after which he continued to regard It with an expression of ironical amusement It was a check made out to him for the amount of twelve dollars and fifty cents; a sum he had recdfved in payment of a scientific article which It had taken him two months to write, ft was a good article, too, hut accordtag to more than one editor "not sufficiently popular in tone.” He had been trying to make a decision. This last cohtemplation of the scrap of paper in his hand had served to topple the scales. He closed the book with a bang, uncrossed his long legs, rose from the table and ambled down die aisle to the door. Outside be stood for an Instant blinking in the strong light. When he closed his eyes they still registered printed book pages. With something of the feeling of a stranger he turned and scuffed along the leaf-strewn path to the lake. Mow that there was no longer any doubt about his departure the intlseemed all at once untomfliar and different He felt already detached from it—and sorry. The moment the tip of her canoe veered round a bend In the shore Une he recognised It and whistled. The assistant professor of English whistled her answer and waved an undignified paddle in greeting as her small craft slipped Into sight “Want to come?" she called, invlt“Sure!" “AU right! Climb in!" The canoe nosed landward and slushed into the sand. With a lunge which shot the boat into deeper water and* himself miraculously,' into the ’■’foat the new passenger embarked and took charge of the paddle. “Where to?" he asked. “Oh. anywhere.” she replied and smiled at him. He selected the most distant spot on the lake, laid the paddle across the canoe and rested his elbows on It. “Takes longer this wjy," he explained. Sh* laughed and leaned sideways to watch a swirt of red and yellow leaves that went scudding along the surface of the water like a fleet of .toy sailboats. The red of her tam-o’-shanter, however* held more fascination for him. At length the leaves whirledput of right and she settled back in her amt to feast her eyes upon lake and trees and sky. “Fm so sorry for all the folks w’ho live tn cities," she said.

"Whyr She looked up Inquiringly *t the question. He had snapped It out so abruptly It puzzled her a little. He had begun paddling, too, furiously. "‘Why?’” she repeated. “Why, because they miss all this!" She waved a brown arm toward the rusting woods that shadowed them. “Wouldn’t you hate to miss it?” she queried. The blade in his hand cut a long swath before he answered. “I—l expect to miss it—after next Sunday," he said. “You—you mean— T Her question hung unfinished. “Yes, Tm going away—to the city ” he said dryly with a pucker of his mouth as if even the taste of the words was bitter to him. *Oh!" She bit her lips and tried to go on speaking naturally, but her brain appeared to be turning a somerannit—and no words came. “Yes,” he went «n dully- "I'm going away. Decker has a fellow here dow who can take my place. They've given me these last two days till college opens to decide. Weil, I’ve made up my mind, rm going to the city to Hve in A hail bedroom and work in an office—and sell rubber. Hl loathe rubber, but Tve got to stick M tttfll I can make a decent enough inw to ask a decent girt to marry ■ya rnth(k ~Wiiiy here and go on With my work than anything else on wear cm nijrsdi. S'* '-Ini- a,a* ' ,4» • 4 'jFt l juakit-Jhfii' undert and I*lt into lior

each waiting for the other to speak. When she had made up her mind that he never expected to open hid mouth again, she gave In. “And —and how doea the girl—-fed about It?" she tn-' quired. ‘That wohld make—some difference—of course.” Hours passed for her before he replied. “I—l haven't—asked her—yet." he said hesitatingly. With a little shiver of relief she sank back in her seat and caught back the smile in her eyes so that he might not see. He went on blustering, manfashion £ » “It Isn’t unreasonable, is it, to want enough to live on decently? I’m not aspiring to plumbers* wages, you know, or anything like that; but bang it, even a teacher’s got to live.” She began speaking then and her voice grew softer and fuller as she went on. “I know," she replied. "It’S unfair and it probably will be for a long time to come, but you can't have everything, you know, Bob. You have the work you like best in all the world. Not many men can say that.”

“I know all that" he sqid. shaking his head in reply. ‘Tve talked that way to myself, too, but all the same steam-heated apartments In town rent for SSO a month.” “So you have been house hunting?” He had not even the grace to blush. “Sure!” he exclaimed. “Why shouldn’t I? Even a poor devil of a pedagogue can look, can’t hd?” She leaned forward, her eyes dancing, but for the moment she felt a little like his mother, nevertheless. “Boy,” she explained slowly and emphatically, “when you’re a schoolteacher you don’t rent a steam-heated apartment in town; you get a cottage in the country and buy a good secondhand stove. For that matter, all the furniture is second-hand but you needn’t look like that—it’s nice! You buy a few pieces at a time and put on three coats of paint and then you enamel It and if you want to you paint little flow—" He could not wait for her to finish. “And for an engagement ring," he jeered, “you buy some pretty little tin thing at the five and ten.” She shook her head defiantly till the red tassel bobbed. “No, you don’t! You hunt up that lovely old amethyst ring of your mother’s that you once showed to —to me.” / He was still stubborn and unconvinced. “And then,” he demanded, “when the house is rented and furnished and —and everything —who pays the bills?”

Her patience reached its limit “Can’t you figure out anything for yourself?” she demanded angrily. “Some land goes with the cottage, of course; enough to raise garden truck for the —the family, and besides that you do whatever you can. Raise chickens or rabbits or bees or thoroughbred dogs or mushrooms or anyt thing that sells —how can I tell exactly? Personally, I’ve made several hundred dollars writing ‘deteketif stories. Maybe your—your wife could do something like that —after the dishes." The assistant professor of biology began to believe he had died and gone to heaven. He felt as if he were treading on balloons that bore him higher and higher, yet strangely did not break. The prospect of remaining at his work made him giddy enough, but added to that the idea of wife home was still beyond iHs rapidly expanding imagination. “Do you—do you suppose—it could he done?" he demanded, and tried to swallow. The red mouth beneath the red tam-o’-shanter was quivering, but the round little chin was firm. “Of course it could!” she said. “God!" murmured the assistant professor of biology fervently, I—l almost believe it could, too! And you don’t believe Td be a low-down cad for asking the best little girl in the world to marry me and live like that?" His hands moved forward, eagerly awaiting the touch of the two steady ones that slipped into his own, while the paddle, unnoticed, slid into the water and floated away. “I —Tm sure you wouldn’t,” she answered, “if—if you mean—me 1”

Move After Death in Family.

Of the inherited rover spirit of the wild people of Davao and their belief that the death of a member of the family is indicative of the will of Allah for them to change their homes, the bureau of forestry says: “Wheb someone dies in the house built on the land or homestead given to the head of a family, the entire family will move to some other place and in most cases the house is either burned or torn down and the land on which it was built is abandoned for some years. A wild bird of the pigeon family, locally known as alimukon. is the common god or fortune teller of the wild people of Davao. Unless this bird answers favorably to their supplications to go back to the old place, their old abode or abodes are either forever abandoned or left untouched' for .many years." ‘

Children at Play.

You have but to go abroad for half au hour in pleasant weather, or to throw open your doors and windows on a Saturday afternoon, if you live anywhere in the neighborhood of a arhnnl house, or a Vacant lot with here and there a patch of green or a dry place on it, and steal behind the curtains, or draw the blinds and let the tresitf tads blow through and through the chambers of your heart for a feW minutes, winnowing the dost and scattering the cobwebs that have gathered there while you were asleep, and to, you win find it ringing with the voices of children at play, and ali alive with —Weal

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER, IND.

WINTER in SWITZERLAND

NOW that peace has come, Switzerland is busily preparing to assume her/old place as the favorite playground of the old world. The little Helvetian republic of proverbial beauty, and far more beautiful still in the eyes of many—for as an angel of mercy has she shown her real worth in the world’s tragedy—is fairly brimming over with attractions sought by lovers of the medieval and quaint and curious, and win how more than dvbr become a haven of blissful rest and healthful enjoyment, writes Marie Widmer in the New York Herald. During the last five winters, in spite of the war, the numerous winter sport resorts tucked away in all those lovely spots over 8,000 feet above sea level, managed to have a “season” on a limited scale, and now that coßdTflons are once more becoming normal it is expected that the winter 1919-1920 will see a great many visitors flock to that snowclad Alpine land, which, although In the midst of that fierce turmoil, has remained intact. Switzerland in her winter garb! To the newcomer It means a vision of paradise—to the habitue a coming home to a beloved haunt. Once a master study in artistic color combinations, the country appears now as a glorious symphony In white. Jack Frost has imprinted a silencing kiss upon the babbling Ups of every tiny brook and mountain stream and glistening sheets of ice cover also the limpid blue eyes of ponds and Alpine lakes. Ice and snow everywhere and above a glorious expanse of deep blue sky. The air itself seems to have gained some new miraculous qualities and faces which yesterday looked weary and tired have a cheerful and energetic expression today. Land of Winter Sports.

Por the natives the time of pleasant sociability has now come. Visits between friends and relatives are frequently interchanged—by sleigh in the case of the older set, and by ski in the case of the younger generation. gven some of the passes are quite animated, as winter is the time of the great transport of merchandise over mountains. Such as the Veltiner wines in the case of the Grisons. From the high lying pastures they slide down to the valley the hay which had been stored to the picturesque huts, and the woodcutters, in their turn, are hnsy in the high forest The proud tfee-truhks fall cracking before the axe and hatchet and the logs dart like arrows down snow-runs to the trafficbeaten roads below. Nowhere on earth have the possibilities of winter sport been more keenly realised than in Switzerland, and that is why we find in this small land such a great choice of resorts ! Which possess scientifically laid out toboggan and bobsleigh runs, Ice rinks, thrilling skl-juinp, etc. Very soon we find everybody interested and engaged in some form of winter sport There is skating, of course, but many games compete now with this oldest of sports on the ice, which has, however, been developed into an art which charms the onlooker by the gracefulness of its movements, how astonishes by the cool daring of

its swift rushes. As in summer over the lawn, so flies the tennis ball over the ice in the game of hockey. Curlers are frantically sweeping their “stanes" toward the coveted goal, and the unlimited diversity es gymkhana stdnts offers constant amusement for the players as well as for the onlookers. The improved appliance requirements have nearly burned the old-fashioned herdsmen's sleds, wmen are now only occasionally timid beginners. The up-to-date vehicle is the so-called skeleton, s> Ues flat, steering the craft with hands and feet. Like an arrow it darts up to tne iced wafis of the curves, and as the siYnrtatflf ffeArfully Dewiiuvicu

St. Moritz in Winter.

One of the most attractive, and certainly a very social sport, isbobsleighing. Long, low padded tobdgganS, seating as many as six persons are used, and under this heavy burden the bobsleigh shoots down its course with amazing speed. 'As the leader sways, almost automatically the closely crowded team bend themselves, thus guiding the sleigh to the right dr left; they apply a brake by letting themselves drop on the snow or drive to greater swiftness by bending forward like Jockeys. Strong iron spikes, which are driven by a lever Into the ice, enable the leader to stop the vehicle almost instantly, but a sudden application of these brakes whirls up the ice and snow in clouds, shaking and jolting the riders.» - Ski-ing has taken root to an extraordinary extent in Switzerland. Even the poorest youth does not want to do without skis, though they might only consist of a couple of crudely adjusted barrel staves. Thanks to the ski the boys and girts living on remotely situated farms are now able to attend school every day; their parents are no longer isolated for the best part of the long winter months, and thanks also to these “wooden wings” the mall and newspapers can be delivered reg ularly. Sport is furthermore made easier by the different mountain railways, which in winter run toboggan trains. Thus one can travel a couple of stations upward and arrive at the starting point of a mountain road without exertion and waste of time. Then one can descend to the valley on toboggan, ski or skated, or, vice-versa, go down first and return by train to winter quarters. Races, competitions, sleigh drives, ice carnivals, ski excursions and an equal variety of fascinating indoor entertainments transplant the happy winter visitor Into a totally different world where sorrow and care seeui to be banished and where every human being seems to realize that the best life after all is found right next to Nature’s heart.

Romance is very powerful, but some things much more common are more so. Take for instance hunger. The other day a young bride 'and bridegroom came from a little country town to Indianapolis to buy furniture for their new home. About 11:30 the bridegroom departed on an errand and told hIS wife that he would meet her At 12:30 At a certain restaurant. He was detained until almost one o’clock. Then he rushed into the restaurant and found his new bride Very calmly eating the lunch she had ordered. Amazed, he rushed to her table. "Oh, I was so worried over being late,” he began, “I was so afraid you couldn’t eat without me.” The bride looked up from her soup “Why," I did it for 23 years,” she returned, and turned to her roast pork and apple sauce. —Indianapolis News.

America’s Firs Newspaper.

The first real newspaper, continu ously printed, in America was the Bos ton News Letter, of which the Initial number was published 215 years ago. A single number Publick Occurrences. Foreign and Do mestick. had been printed a little more than thirteen years before; but, like many of its successors. Its first number was ribo tth last John Campbell was the entire staff of the News Letter, from managing editor to steady at about 300 copies weekly.

ftp was young and handsome. She was younger and beautiful. She seemed to hang over every word Ihe spoke. ' ■' / I Suddenly his handsome face darkI ewu wiuu *ies too badT he exclaimed. I The beaatiftU girt patedL * ;

Had Long Experience.

Too Bad.

Skirt Length Is Topic of Season

There’s a new war on! Hostilities are being waged between the ately short skirt advocated by AmEncan designers and the excessively abbreviated frocks insisted upon by the French couturiers, writes a prominent creator of fashions. The short skirt reaching barely below the knees made its appearance tn Paris last year and many stories came across to us concerning the display of ■ silken hosiery observed at the leading French hotels where the fashionable Parisiennes gather for luncheon, tea and evening parties. This fashion of displaying French calves with a frankness that outfranked even the French was not confined to bizarre extremists, but was adopted by the upper the descendants of the old regime, . who still constitute the aristocracy of France that dwells in the neigborhood of St. Germain. When the races at Auteuille Long Champs corroborated the evidence that .the short skirt was an established fact, American designers hesitated and waited to hear the death knell of this fashion vibrate across the Atlantic. Instead of dying young, it continued to grow in favor.

The short skirt on this side of the ocean, which came into prominence several years ago,' when a certain theatrical manager dressed his far famed beauty chorus In the short-long skirts reaching eight or ten Inches from the floor, had been carried to such vulgar excess by any women lacking both in artistic taste and good breeding, that an attempt to feature the long graceful afternoon gown was made with a large measure of success. Last season I made my street and afternoon gowns quite long. This year I concede nothing to the French fashion and continue to advocate the long or moderately long skirt. Few women have sufficiently well-shaped legs and ankles to display them In this manner. That Is the aesthetic argument against the short skirt, into the moral question I enter not. The American woman of good taste is capable of judging that for herself. You all know how many actually bow-legged women the short skirt has brought to notice. The woman with such unfortunate physical defects should certainly avoid the short skirj- Thu older woman who has put on weight looks her worst in short skirts. Youth should possess attractive, slender ankles, yet many young girls show a thickness in their ankles which is far from symmetrically lovely, and very unattractive in a short skirt. The well modeled physique of the American woman is similar to the Greek ideal. It shows a gradual increase in the fullness of the leg beginning at the ankle and rounding into the calf. The French woman possesses a higher placed calf. Her legs are more like those of the professional dancer, which shows the biceps muscle rising more abruptly from the long slenderness of the ankle. The. thinness of French legs makes the women of that country more adapted to wear the excessive short skirt than her American Uster. For these various reasons I am not riaking my gowns too short. My street dresses and tailored suits are eight Inches from the floor and my after——P— - ■

Gown of Gray Charmeuse Satin Combined With Gray Chiffon.

* t — — tha Houru

materials designed for debutantes and the younger matrons are about eight . inches from the floor, add they may be even a trifle shorter. The draped brocades and velvets are invariably much more graceful when given a long sweep of line that accents the height. ■ Crepe chiffon alto lends itself more effectively to long, graceful drapery. Before adopting the short skirt -a woman should remember that what may appear.chic in Paris, a city of extremists in style, may took ridiculous in a small American city. Even

Charming Evening Gown of Brocade in Geranium Pink and Gold.

things that are moderately striking where the eye grows accustomed to clothes that are startling and “near freakish*” may look quite absurd on the main street of a less cosmopolitan city than New York. , A variety of gowns show the grace of the moderately long skirt. They are offered as an argument against the L adoption of the exaggerated skirt by the woman who values the effect of the “tout ensemble” as opposed to the unthinking woman who wants to be in style at any price, even unto sacrificing the gracd Of her figure. Many figures appear quite charming in the longer lines which would be displayed to a disadvantage tn an excessively short skirt. ’ The gown of black crepe meteor gives slenderness anti grace to the fullfigured woman and ts also becoming to the Slender build. The skirt Is draped in beautiful lines that cross In front and produce the effect of a bias tunic In the back. The kimono blouse Is cut with short sleeves and the opening in ’ the front Is filled in with a surplice of sliver lace and flesh chiffon that shows a deligthful smack of color in “binds’’ dr folds of red, violet and hyacinth blue taffeta. The girdle of black chanheupe displays a new sash treatment that appears to be a continuation of the lines of the skirt drapery. These sash ends emerge from the side front and are carried toward the back, where they are thfoWri one over the other briow the waistline. Worn with a b<gd black velvet hat trimmed with graceful sweeps of black paradise, this gbtvn Is an expression of grace and gives to almost any woman a distinguished. silhouette. Would you choose a skirt a few inches below your knees In preference to the long Uries of this model? The evening gown of geranium and stiver brocade casts another vote for the long skirt. This gown Is apparently unsupported over the shoulders except by the unusual straps, apparently oblivious of their object in life. In straps and are attached to the back of the gown on either side of the center-

. drapery, cry out gainst and stows a clSinJ flattering to the figure. It runs cross-