Evening Republican, Volume 23, Number 232, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 25 September 1920 — Page 2

Salisbury Cathedral

APRIL 28, 1220, Richard Poore, bishop of Old Sarum, took off his shoes, and, attended by a procession of church and state dignitaries, all barefooted, and followed by a crowd of humbler people, walked from his cathedral church of Old Sarum to a pleasant meadow by the riverside, a little more than a mile distant There and then he founded the cathedral of New Sarum, -which, in but a few years, was to spring from the greensward in the simple beauty associated with its newer name of Salisbury cathedral; to endure as the finest existing example of early English architecture, says the London Telegraph. After consecrating the site of the future cathedral. Bishop Poore laid the first foundation stone in the name of Pope Honorius; a second for Stephen Archbishop of Canterbury, and a third for himself. William Longespee, first earl of Salisbury, whose altar tomb on the south side of the nave is a masterpiece of statuary art, laid the fourth stone; while the fifth was placed by his countess, Ela, Other stone laying followed, “amidst the acclamation,” and old chronicler tells us, “of multitudes of the people, weeping for joy, and contributing thereto their alms with a ready mind, according to the ability which God had given them.” So quickly did the work progress that three altars were consecrated in the n6w building within five years of the foundation ceremonies. 1 Why the Site Was Changed. The founders of the new cathedral gave several reasons for abandoning tho structure on the hill of Old Sarum. One reason mentioned in the bull obtained for the purpose from Pope Honorius, dated March 29. 1219, was that the hilly situation of Old Sarum placed the cathedral at the mercy of winds so stormy that not only was it often difficult to hear the words of the service, but the structure became in constant need of repair. Another trouble was the insufficiency of the water supply and a third was the most cogent of all, the military in the neighboring castle taking all possible pains to show that they, and not the ecclesiastics, were the lords of Old Sarum. “What has the House of the Lord to do with castles’” asked Peter of Blois in support of the proposal to remove the See from Old Sarum. “It is the Ark of the Covenant in a temple of Balaam. Let us, in the name of God, descend into the meads. There are rich meadows and fertile valleys .abounding in the fruits of the earth, profusely watered by living streams. There is a seat for the virgin patroness of our church to which the whole world cannot produce a parallel.” His conclusions as to the situation were to every sense correct, for among Hngiish cathedrals scarcely one—if »my—can vie with the exquisite setting of Salisbury’s aspiring loveliness of pinnacles and spire in the center of the greensward. The Tower and Spire. Without its spire the cathedral at Salisbury would still have been a marwl of architectural beauty; with Ito tower and spire it stands complete as the crowning triumph of English architecture throughout the ages. For over a century the building stood with « low, stunted central tower. Then, in 1830, came the daring conception of A- Ally Arve ,care. They knew that the nvendde

Salisbury Cathedral, From the Nearby Lake.

earth on which they had to build was too marshy to bear the solidity usually connected with tower structures, and they planned and worked with extreme caution. Giving to the tower walls the ightest possible construction, banding the parts Ingeniously, and even leaving within the building the wooden framework to serve as an additional support, the builders worked daringly on ; but when they approached the spire construction they had not tbe temerity to give It a thickness of more than two feet at the base, and of nine Inches from a little above the base to the topmost pinnacle. Within and without they added flying buttresses. Even then the spire began to lapse from the perpendicular, and tbe worst was feared when a deviation of two feet occurred; but since the careful examination made by Sir Christopher Wren no further signs of insecurity have appeared. What Salisbury Cathedral owes to the magic grace of its tower and spire it Is easier to realize than to express. The whole building was transformed by the architectural daring which had enough poetic Insight to picture what could be done by capping an already beautiful, but somewhat , featureless structure, by an exquisitely proportioned tower, surmounted by a slender and soaring spire, the highest in England. Though constructed half a century later than the body of the cathedral, the tower and spire—so refined was the artistic perception of these early builders —were in harmony with the whole, construction, in spite of their greater display of elaborate and decorative work.

With marvelous grace this triumph of early English art blends nave, choir, and transepts, tower and spire, in an architectural unity that has no compeer within our isles. Here we have a church of one period and of ode design, not, as in most cathedrals, an epitome in stone of English history from the Norman on through the early English and decorated periods to the perpendicular. Some Human Records. Seen with effect from the height of Salisbury tower is a pleasant pastoral country, vratered by several streams, broken by some low stretches of downs ■ and in places luxuriantly wooded; and' here and there are places sacred in the story of our literature. Within the cathedral is a bust with tablet in memory of Richard Jefferies, born at Coate, in Wiltshire. Less than two miles from Salisbury is Bemerton, a village containing the flint built parsonage where George Herbert wrote some of the poems in “The Temple.” Within the altar rails. of the little church is a modest tablet, with the simple Inscription, “G H, 1633,” the only memorial in Wiltshire to “the sweetest singer that ever sang God’s praise.” Within the cathedral, on the north side of the altar, lies the body of the sister whom Sir Philip Sidney loved to visit at Wilton, the ancestral estate of the Pembroke family, not much more than a mile to the west of Bemerton. It was at Wilton that Sidney wrote parts of his “Arcadia’’ to please, as he put it, “his dear lady and sister, the countess of Pembroke.** Interesting, too. are the cloisters, ndt only for the beauty of their window tracery, but tor the memories they enshrine, tor among those who Me at rest in this sanctuary Inclosed by the doisters are people whose names have a place of honor to toe modem records of toe Wiltshire minstor.

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER, IND.

Wanted — A Husband

By KATE EDMONDS

(©. IMO. by McClure New«p»per Syndicate.) Had some good fairy suddenly interrogated Janice concerning what she wanted more than anything else in the whole world, the Instantaneous answer would have been “a husband,” which perhaps, is not so very surprising after all; for while the response would come on the heels of the question. It would lack the saving grace of being absolutely true. It was not so much a husband for which Janice yearned, as that which a husband usually represents. Janice wanted a husband because she could hot find a man to serve in the role of friemL whose reassuring arm would chase away all fear when the dark bridge had to be crossed at night after work; one who would sympathetically listen to the little tale of woe about the domineering forelady in the “department.” Somehow It seemed to Janice If she.could find a husband, he would be the pal for which she longed. y But in monotonous friendliness Janice continued to hemstitch her days away, until one day above the din of the machines electrically growling out the work, she had heard herself referred to as “the old maid.” In that moment an idea dawned and found expression; any plan seemed feasible to avoid, the ridicule of her fellow-workers. *TII pretend there is some one. He lives far away, so I can’t see him, but T must write him letters to inspire him in his work.” She reassured herself. “Why shouldn’t I?” Then as the pretty pieces of organdie came out from beneath her needle in long rows of even hemstitching, the imagined husband of Janice was quite complete as to details, even to a name. “I think I would like the sound of Mrs. John Carpenter,” and in her mind’s eye she saw visiting cards bearing the words.

The day’s work completed, she retraced her steps to the tiny room called home and sauntered into the “parlor” as nonchalantly as she was able, that no attention might be directed to her perusal of the almanac which comprised the sole extent of the rooming house library. Opening the book at “List of Towns in the United States,” and turning to a page of that section at random, she placed her finger with blind faith and opened her eyes to find herself pointing to “Hay Ranch. Oklahoma.” In the safe seclusion of her room, the first letter was indited to the creation of a lonely girl’s imagination. It was a sweet little letter, filled with the yearning Tor an understanding friendship. - ■ ■ - When the missive, lacking other Identification than “John Carpenter, Hay Ranch, Oklahoma” was deposited in the mail box, Janice felt happier. Though but the figment of her own mental creation, she had somebody to whom she “belonged.” Nor was this the last letter composed, for whenever the ogre of loneliness pretended power, another would be dispatched telling “My darling husband John” all the details. Some months had slipped by and early summer bad merged Into late fall. At the end of a trying day’s work, Janice returned to the rooming house too despondent and depressed to care about the evening’s mealj She walked slowly down the broad thoroughfare lined with Its stores, restaurants and theaters, the loud billposters acclaiming the, entertainment offered within. Amid the jostling of the unminding crowds, intent upon scurrying home, Janice was bandied about, unnoticed in the motley assortment of humanity. In her hand she held, ready for posting, her letter to “John Carpenter, Hay Ranch, Oklahoma” in which she had written, I long for a dear little cottage far away from the struggles of a big city. It does not seem that I can stand the strain much longer.”

Janice turned the corner onto a more secluded street, where some construction work was being conducted. A scaffolding, its false foundation failing, gave way with a rasping but too abrupt warning to permit Janice to escape the deluge of things the boards supported. Then, save for the fact that she had been grabbed with precipitate speed, she was conscious of no more until the white walls of a hospital room became as apparent a reality as the pain in her body; and the sipell common to medical Institutions forced Itself upon her consciousness. • A nurse, stiffly starched to whiteapron cleanliness, greeted her. “Better, I see. Would you like to see a visitor?” Janice closed her eyes. “A visltorr Thia was a new world indeed. “Who would visit me?" The question came to a faint, far-away whisper of utter hopelessness. a The nurse, smiled to” professional fashion “It is the man who snatched you actually from death. It was at great risk to his own life.” She paused a moment and went on: “He comes every day to team of your progress,” and she added: “He sent you these roses." Janice thought surely she was dreaming. She shut her eyes tightly —and opened them upon six feet of then, literally towering above toe low cat - She looked up at toe friendly

stranger as he held her hand lying ao inert above the coverlet and smiled a wan, happy smile. “Thank you, Mr. Man, for the lovely roses.” „ Through long,' torturous months when fractured bones seemed difficult of mending, always he was there, radiating a protecting friendship which seemed to yield the strength her body demanded. But when the period of convalescence was nearly over and no doctor’s time limit did end the delightful moments before the bay window overlooking the bend in the river where the water sluggishly drifted into the ocean beyond, intimate, hopeful words of future happiness hurried the ultimate day of complete recovery. Each morning the bed-tray, laden with savory breakfast dainties to tempt the returning appetite of the convalescent, was abetted by a sprightly nosegay, charming, colorful, fragrant. And nestling In Its heart, Janice would find a tiny note of good cheer; sometimes an original thought of the man’s big heart; often a gem culled from the mighty work of an fhspired poet or author. It was a wonderful morning, the sun reflecting Its rays within the room with many multi-colored beams. Janice fussed before the hand mirror, adjusting the furbelows on the pretty dressing sack the nurse had generously lent her. Reflected Ln the . looking glass she held in her hand, she saw the door opened, and then two strong and gentle hands were laid upon her shoulders. It did not seem possible that the lonely Janice, unloved until this, her twenty-sixth birthday, could be listening to these wonder-words. “I have come to take-you to a dear little cottage far away from the struggles of a big city.” Astonished, Janice heard this strange repetition of the wish confided to her “husband,” and the man laughed delightedly at her consternation. —“lfound thisi letter Tn your hand the day of the accident,” he explained, “and opened it because it was addressed to me.”He paused a moment to withdraw a neatly tied packet from his pocket. “I came to the city from Hay Ranch, Oklahoma, to find my ‘loving wife Janice’ who wrote these wonderful letters.” , — Janice did the impossible. She laughed and cried at the same time. “And there really was a John Carpenter of Hay Ranch, Oklahoma?” “Guilty. . But won’t you answer my question?” “What question?” Janice naively asked. “Will you come with me to a dear little cottage far away from the struggles of a big city?” And with the kiss he took from her lips, she gave him the answer.

LOOKING TO COKE FOR FUEL

With the Inevitable End of the Gasoline Supply, That Material May Supply Substitute.

Gasoline will continue to go up In price. A few years from now we shall have to use something else as fuel for automobiles. The question is, what? The United States government bureau of mines thinks that we shall get the requisite substitute from coal. In every city there will be “by-product coke ovens,’’ which will extract from the coal a light oil available for the purpose. The coke can then be used in our furnaces and for other ordinary fuel purposes. Germany during part of the war was practically shut off from every supply of mineral oil. She depended for her motor fuel entirely on coal, putting the latter through byproduct coking plants. Before long we shall be obliged to do the same in the United States. Part of the light oil- In coal Istoluol, which in time of war is needed for the manufacture of TNT. Modern warfare requires enormous quantities of the substance for making high-explosive shells. During the first part of the war the allies came near defeat for lack of it. Another by-product from the coking of one ton of soft coal is 5,000 cubic feet of gas, available for cooking and other household uses. The coke itself makes an admirable smokeless fuel for furnaces, if people could only be persuaded to use it

Art Collectors Fooled.

Wealthy collectors searching tn Egypt for treasures and relics are often imposed upon by crafty Arabs, - who manufacture mummies, using the bodies of their own dead, which they swathe in the mummy windings and encase in stolen or spurious mummy cases. The duped collector, after secretly negotiating with a mysterious Arab, is led to an abandoned pyramid, where the fake mummy is discovered. Then the Arab aids the collector in smuggling the mummy out of Egypt that the Egyptian authorities, who examine all relics taken out Of the country, may not reveal his swindle. x

Best Jet Mined in England.

Jet is a bituminous mineral, and. It is said, the vegetable remains of coniferous trees or fossilized wood. The best Jet comes from mines In Whitby, England. Spain and France have large jet mines. Queen Victoria is said to have been very fond of jet,-and during the latter part of her reign it came into great favor as Jewelry. It is capable of taking a high polish and is very easy to carve. The genuine Jet Is so valuable that many imitations are in the market. The best imitations come from Italy and are called -Italian jet” The real Jet is very light white some of the Imitations maar from glass are heavy.

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A Self-Starter.

“Are you an expert salesman?” asked the manager. “Can sell anything from an ice pick to an automobile. For instance, that car of yours outside —” “Yes, yes.” ♦. “Well, I sold it to a guy who was passing.”—Boston Transcript

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A Leading Clue.

"What made the pohibltion enforcement agents suspect a staid, respectable elderly woman of having whisky bottles concealed about her?” “Pm sure I don’t know, unless it was her corkscrew curls.”

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One Way.

Knicfcet—"How does be reduce the cost of him.” -

Those Wags.

“You say the revolver you bought had six chambers?” “Six chambers and a seller.”

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