Ligonier Banner., Volume 43, Number 41, Ligonier, Noble County, 31 December 1908 — Page 7

Samson and Delilah ' By Harriet G. Canfield

Aunt Dee put her pretty head out of the window, and listened—all unconscious that so doing, she turned another page in her love story. They had lived in this neighborhood only two days, but Dorothy had evidently found a playmate. Her cheerful little woice came floating up: “Oh, yeth,” she was saying, “I'm glad you live in the next houth!”

- Aunt Dee looked down at her small miece. She was standing close to the hedge that divided their lawn from the old-fashioned yard adjoining it. 7 anding just as close to the hedge, <he other side, was a fair-haired

_oild. whose long, golden curls were tied back on each side with a blue ribbon.

Only the head of each was visible 10 the other, but Aunt Dee gazed wonderingly at the little figure on the other. side of the hedge. Was it a boy, or a girl? - A long-sleeved gingham apron—blue and white—hung stifly down to the tops of shoes, thicksoled and heavy, like those worn by men in embryo. There were pockets in the apron, and the small hands were thrust into them man fashion. There was a look of real martyrdom in the blue eves.

“T wath afraid I'd have to live near a boy,” Dorothy lisped, laughing contentedly.

The golden-haired child flushed painfully, and writhed with embarrassment; then he leaned forward and said something too low for Aunt Dee to hear. Dorothy sprang back in amazement. “Oh! Oh!” she cried. “What a whopper! You ain't a boy at all—you've got curlth, an’ ribbonth, an'—” “I'll come round and show you my shoes,” he said, determined to conwince her of his masculinity. A minute later he was standing on the lawn, exhibiting his pedal extremities to the little girl. « “But I never thaw a boy wear zpronth like that,” she said argumentatively. “What for do you ‘wear em?”

The question was not answered, for the new acquaintance said, “I've got to £o in, now; Aunt Mercy’s calling me.”

’ l ooDooo l o\ (S A 3 11 ° o TS Lo \ | o / N : y —-l = = ‘ - ' wp’, (& A LT A : Ry N————— o o 8 v A b = oPo o 1 :‘. ° o° g g = > “Do You Know How Samsorn—The Bible Samson—Lost His Long Hair?” He seemed glad of the chance to le‘ae his little inquisitor, but that the escape was only temporary, Aunt Dee discovered at bedtime. Dorothy, as usual, made a cenfidant of her: “Oh, dear!” she sighed, sitting down on the floor to take off her shoesi “There ith a great deal of trouble in thith world.” ) Aunt Dee suppressed a smile. “What is troubling you now, dear?” she asked sympathetically. “Nothing ith troubling me—lt ith poor Thamthon!” : “‘Samson!’ Is that the little boy rmext door?” ' yle “Yeth. You thee he had a mamma only a teeny bit of a while, then she died, an’ hith Aunty Merthy took him. She ith only .a great aunt, an’ she don’'t ’prove of boyth; she wanth them all to be little girlth. She wanted him named Thamthon ’cauth he had Jong hair, like ‘the Thamthon in the Bibte. Hith papa ith away tho much, an’ he hath to wear apronth an’ ribbonth.” She gazed pensively at the little stocking in her hand. “It is too bad!” Aunt Dee said indignantly. “Poor little fellow!” “Yeth, but the curlth are the hardeth to bear! Hith papa wanted them cut off, but hith Aunt Merthy wanted him to wait ’til he came home again. He wath to come home’ to-day, but they got a letter that maybe he couldn’t come ’til July, an’ Thamthon’th heart ith breaking! He hath to do patchwork, and hith Aunt Merthy readth the Bible to him.” - “Doesn’t he like that?” Aunt Dee said. “Yeth, everything but the angelth; he ithn’t int'rethed in angelth!” “Why isn't he interested -in the angels, Dorothy?” “Oh, they all have long hair! He ith thorry for them, but he don’t never want to be one!” “What is Samson's last name?” Aunt Dee asked. “Whiting—only Whiting; it ithn't out of the Bible, like Thamthon. What §th the matter, Aunt Dee? You “Nothing, dear; I knew some one of that name several years ago. Now you must say your prayers, and let me put out the light. Mamma is coming up to kiss you good night.” - Alone in her room Aunt Dee recalled the past, and the past inseparably connected with David® Whiting. “Some one of that name” had loved SO Sak: long ot She bt him for another woman's sake. ’3‘-‘; WONOE L MEDNS PGS AApYr v ith the man she loved? FHappy as Deborah

(Copyright, by Ford Pub. Co.)

“He never called me Deborah;” she said to herself, “it was always ‘Dee’— Dorothy’s name for me now. Poor Grace! I never dreamed that she was dead: They moved away\before Samson came. I know the poor little man

is David’'s boy; the likeness is perfect. My heart goes out to that pathetic little figure in blue gingham! I could pray with Dorothy, ‘O Lord, pleath have Thamthon'th hair eut!’” . The _next day was Saturday. Samson came over early in the morning, and the children played happily for over an hour. Then there was such a commotion in the yard, that Aunt Dee went to the door to see what was the matter. ) .

Samson—with Dorothy behind him —was the center of a group of boys. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes shining. “I won’t stand.it!” he cried, “I ain't a girl!” “He ith a boy!” Dorothy lisped valiantly. “Hith name ith Thamthon!” Samson’s tormentors hooted derisively. “‘Thamthon!’ She says its name is ‘Thamthon,” and it has curls!” Before Aunt Dee could interfere, Samson’'s fist had come in close contact with the leader of the group. The boy—twice as large as his antagonist —was too astonished to avoid the blow. When .he saw Aunt Dee coming, he picked himself up from the grass, and ran swiftly down the street, his companions following like a flock of sheep. Aunt Dee’'s eyes Dblazed with righteous indignation. “The cowards!” she cried. Samson’s lips quivered, and he blinked hard, to keep the tears back—boys didn’'t cry! “I—l—hate curls!” he said

Aunt Dee made a sudden resolution —she felt reckless. “Dorothy,” she cried, “bring me the scissors!” Dorothy looked surprised, but she had been taught to obey her elders. While she was gone, Aunt Dee said quietly, “Do you know how Samson—the Bible Samson—llost his long hair?” “Oh, yes,” the little Samson an swered promptly, “Delilah cut it off. Aunt Mercy said Delilah was a bad woman, but I liked her first rate.” Dorothy came up with thu!scissors in her hand. “Here they are, Aunt Dee,” she said.

A look of wonder and delight came into Samson’s blue eyes. “She called you ‘Aunt D.!”” he cried, “does D stand for Delilah?” ) i “It does this morning,” the scissors lady said determinedly, and she snipped the long curls eoff as though she enjoyed her work. “There! After it is shingled,” she said, “and we get

rid of this apron, you will be a ‘really, truly,” boy, dear! Run into the house, Dorothy; I am going home with Samson.” 7

She gathered the curls in one hand, and held out the other to the grateful little boy. Straight into the old house they walked, and Aunt Mercy held up her withered hands in horror, at the sight of her shorn lamb.

“How did this happen?” she gasped, and the scissors lady, like George Washington, “could not tell a lie,” but made full confession. Some one came into the room while she was introducing herself to Aunt Mercy—some one who stood behind her, and listened hungrily to the sweet voice, pleading for his motherless little boy. )

“He has been so unhappy,” she said, “and—forgive me—l've been wondering if you understand boys? They need—" ' : .

“They need a mother’s love!” The voice came from behind her, full and deep, just as David Whiting’s voice had sounded eight years before. She turned and looked at him, the warm color flooding her face.

“They need a mother’s love,” he said ‘again. “Can my little lad have that, Dee?” He held out his arms entreatingly, and the scissors lady walked into them. Imperfect Immunity. An instance of diplomatic immunity nipped in the bud is cited in the Washington correspondence of the Chicago Tribune. A Washington policeman was swinging his club in Dupont Circle when he noticed a nine-year-old breaking branches from a small bush. “Stop that,” he said to the youngster, touching him on the shoulder. “I may have to arrest you for that.” The child looked at him unafraid. “You can't do that,” he observed, gravely. “I am entitled to diplomatic immunity.” - ‘

The officer's mouth opened in amazement; then he said: “Young 1 man, I am an officer of the law. It is unlawful to break shrubbery. Anybody doing so must be arrested.” “But you don't know who I am,” came back in childish treble. “I am the son of an envoy extraordinary and a minister plenipotentiary. Diplomats and their families cannot be punished for breaking the laws. If you don’t believe it, you may go and ask my pam.” : “I'll tell you what I'll do, young man,” the officer said, grimly. “I will take you to your father and see if you have any immunity from his punishment.” * The youngster wailed; and it was some satisfaction to the officer to know that he wailed still louder after the tale had been told at the legation. Rigidity of Matter. To the average mind the conception of the atom, or electron, as a sort of whirlpool in the ether, renders it difficult to- understand how matter can be rigid. Rigidity is explained as due to the enormous velocity of these etherial vortices. It has been shown that water . moving with sufficient velocity through a tube cannot be broken into by a violent blow fro= a saber. “A layer of water a few centi meters thick,” says M. le Bon, “ani vaated by a sufficient velocity, which would be as impenetrable to shells as the steel plates of an ironclad.”

FS LAND WORTH B£soo 0004 ACRE. e T gmn LTS T oL et s (e S D IR R e o e N Bt e ) R = E - Ny SS s ER F SiEpan el ]2 ’3 Let ‘y”‘;’g I e et A . 3 e ;&‘“ ‘ 'a?%.- St 3‘!: ~ oy ;f":‘ -,ﬁ“ PR »,‘v_“ AR g D & }‘?&g »3*? - g 4”. ¥O e o M o T T T SR | R« o, y EOER e oBT .Al o e tiaimel B Ayt W ot ‘he i b b 800 aea RsR 00 A Sl S e RLR e Abdsaa ] Reenie B Bt R ‘c»?\ &5 L R u, %’ﬁ g oo f‘é g Pl eO. ¥ }e‘%““*\* s s R momo ; *F; s X. g g i el = oS e ‘XJ £ s R e i s Fey T %%N S ,&wme*% Gais EEaIE e P R o BBRt B E e e eBl R R e R AR X o B R e e %g;kwi e R K R = o E e R & i e e R SR R ] e e LT, ¢ Skelvaal R o ERmen T B Sreetias 1 e o s oR A vy HTAGA S R .oy get -1 A RMs oA LT i R e L el oe e —r‘gr"‘"“"-—m ‘ e panSRR AR Hag -y R "“1&? Gl R g e -oo = e B R N s E e by Sl : S T el S e T eI; e A ?,‘!‘ et D2O = ‘ : EA = e 3 = B ey B T 3 iy AIE eY T ; g ii : ‘> 3 % e 3 i F-‘"—‘ . 33 =@ £ ! Fle s e b ' Nok . R il a 8 g e

There is a tree in Cheapside, London, that may be described as the mpst expensive of its kind on earth. If five-dollar gold pieces filled the entire trunk and five-dollar bills fluttered in the place of every one of the leaves, it would not buy the land it occupies. For the land on which it stands, the northwest corner of Wood street and Cheapside, is worth $4,500,000 an acre. The tree has stood on this spot for more than 200 years; meanwhile its site has augmented in value to almost fabulous proportions. There have been several hard-fought law-suits over this plot of ground; the fight having been carried even to the house of lords; but, so far, the lawyvers have never been able to break through the phalanx of enactments which preserve the tree. In the first place, there is a law in England which prohibits builders from- putting up a

structure which shall keep out the light from windows which bear: the mysterious words, ‘“Ancient Lights.” This tree in Cheapside is literally surrounded by a number of ancient lights proprietors, whose consent has never been obtained when it came to cutting down the tree and putting a modern structure on its site. For the same reason, the storekeeper who rents the tiny two-story structure on the corner just in front of the tree has never been able to put his building up beyond its present height. Some years ago, one builder, who thought himself more cute than the others, started to take the law into his own hands and put up a building, thinking to arrange with the owners of the ancient lights afterward. But he was met with a perfect shower of injunctions, proceedings, writs and indictments, more than would have covered the tree in its full spring bloom.

A few years ago, some. gardeners were ordered to lop off certain limbs ,of the tree which hung over Cheap'side. It was done really to save the Jlife of the tree, and had the consent }’of the parish clerk and churchward~ens of Saint Peter’s, Cheapside, the ancient little Norman church in Foster Lane, near by, who guard this ' tree from the vandals’ clutches. When ' the men began to work on the tree, }however, it created a sensation in Cheapside. “They are chopping down !our tree,” went up from a thousand angry throats in the district. Policemen were called and there would have been another shower of writs, injunctions and proceedings had not the minister of the parish explained the real reason for the lopping operations. Another almost impassable barrier which protects the tree in its position is the fact that it grows in sacred ground. There is a law in London that no building can be erected on sacred ground without special act of parliament, and woe betide the unhappy man who dares to put up even a shanty within the sacred precincts of a graveyard in England. f This particular corner of Cheapside ‘ has been immortalized by Words- - worth:

At the corner of Wood street, when daylight appears, There’s a thrush that sings loud; it has

19 g 3 g Ty I‘} "\ N %g;‘ﬁ v, Gt 4 3 ‘;;Jga'»,ir /7% b R — { %7‘ ) 1l } s a 2 O X | i '. ‘ ) % TGt : |I I iy G '4' & ; | ".'l"n|"t|,{’|'»! ¥ B B e 18 -4 & B i) !{ “"'Ellll' icaal A D iC P = ﬂ PR ey g 4/l B ;';"’;imiai;’u’,’, R (LS BT AA |Ny 1 T o i l “ﬁ,‘, N\ ll .‘g N‘ié 4 z ;‘/’\\"—s‘ '] i fP.jli;"“| "4,‘1 S IDA A LA N" S A o N o | AW Joy W i NFA‘H ik =% S ‘- S~ / i 5.!‘;‘.&;"" A’ ¢ . \V% -\"r""‘b e<v , ; ?;‘7‘ ;'l' {,j){!.‘.lwbll"’ gl ! N ) " NN B JVNT 050 e 1 { [ W 227 TN I 'f'-’jéif ' s (7,717 S BT ] IV4 ey L U ‘ '\" 2 /4 7//;; 54 NEE ;“‘» i \ 4 Rz /1] A’//fl \§ h's..q Wy & R "!ihu"' ) Ny Z7Z / ] h.:;.;‘:.‘.. VAt (' e b)) u‘;-:t::j;:t ' Sz 4 €= N\, Gt UL ' i o %,/ 2/ Iﬂ Ns R e : T LR R T sl ey Visagy ot e A e A Wiggies—Arabella, darling, may I kiss you? Arabella—Yes, sweetest, but kiss me on the left cheek, please. Wiggles (doing so)—And may I ask, dearest, why the left cheek? Little Brother (poking his head through the door)—Because Jack %waggles bes been Kkissing the right cheek all the afterncomn, end it's fired

sung for three years. This bird was wont to perch in the now famous tree and it attracted the attention of Wordsworth, who used to breakfast in a little shop near by. As far back as the year 1392—just 100 years before Columbus discovered America—another tree stood in this graveyard and is spoken of by Chaucer: That whosoever ploynes ‘it é.way, He shall have Chrystis’ curse for aye. This tree is, therefore, a direct descendent of, perhaps, the oldest tree on record in England, and it may almost be descygibed as an English institution.

This particular corner of Cheapside is back of the general post office and one of the finest pieces of real estate in the world. With the tremendous difficulties that stand in the way of its being built over—the sanctity of the land itself and the power of the Ancient Lights statute—it is probable that this piece of ground will remain unimproved for another century or two. In a recent interview the manager of Fhe real-estate agents, who control nearly all the land in the district, declared that “the old tree in Cheapside occupies a position which is likely never to bebuilt upon. There would be a perfect howl of execration from all sides if anyone were to attempt to put up a modern building there; for Wood street itself.is so narrow that the people on both sides of the street have a right to claim ancient lights, and the builder -who went in for improving this property would have to square so many people that he would never be able to get any profit out of his building.” ; o

BEFORE AND AFTER. He promised he would wait on her and all his life would try To make her happy every day or know the reason why. He swore that silks and satins for her every week he'd buy. ! He begged her on his bended knee to be his happy bride, He swore he'd be her willing slave and ~always by her ‘side, And that when they were man and wife in carriages she’'d ride. He told her thét she’d never have to do the housework. No, He’d hire a maid to do all that and she could come and go Exactly as she pleased and not a cross word should she kndw. They -married. Now she, has no maid, no silks or satins fine, He does not even help her put the washing on the line, But still she doesn’t nag him and she doesn't fume and whine. She seems to be quite happy and she thinks her husband good, She doesn’t make a slave of him and wouldn’t if she could, He hasn’t kept his promise, but she never thought he would. : —Edgar A. Guest, in Detroit Free Press. Time Wasted. _ Bill—l lost about 15 minutes on the train, coming into the city to-day. Jill—Train late? ; : “No, the train was on time, all right; but I spent 15 minutes trying . to open a window.”—Yonkers Statesman.

THE ENGAGEMENT OFF.

JAMES FAGAN SELECTED TO LECTURE AT HARVARD. “Confessions” Attracted Attention of University Head and President . Roosevelt—Still Works : in Tower. New York.—Out of a signal tower in one of the dirtiest and most sordid of the suburbs of Boston James Fagan has come to the Harvard university lecture platform. President Eliot has selected him, and President Roosevelt has called him to the White House to discuss railroad matters. The public is hearing of him and beginning to wonder what kind of a man he is. Mr. Fagan is tall and thin, loosely built, but not awkward. On first seeing him one is attracted by the look of earnestness in his gray eyes, and one feels that this is a man who really believes in his work. The little tower in which he has been working and thinking these 22 years is as dingy and unattractive as its surroundings and is not different from the hundreds of other railroad signal towers scattered throughout the country. The steel levers, the clicking telegraph instrument, the dreary view up and down the tracks—the average student of economics would not consider these the most advantageous surroundings for mental effort, but here Fagan has learned enough about railroad problems to qualify him as a lecturer in Harvard ' university. Eight hours a day of work in the tower and' almost as much again of study in his little home in Waltham have made him one of the most remarkable men fn this country to-day. He is now 50 years old. The first 25 years of his life were years of wandering and adventure; the last 25 have been years of observation -and study. No one can justly claim to have dis-

| i A < \l \\ | - = i & | ﬂ,! ,jv ' ",,‘/,’,/h “ ’ '.\l:“ "/ \ | | AN s ll “‘W‘“\"h i i F RN |\ Vi P 2 W\ - e NN ) o N SR 4 \' : {7 //‘ / \ N ) o Sl i ' Fagan at Work. ; covered him, for he discovered himself. Some time ago the Atlantic Monthly devoted a_good deal of space to various articles on railroad problems. He read these articles with great interest, and he saw in them many statements which did not agree with his own experience. He thought it over for a while, and one day he went to call on the editor. He told the editor what he thought ‘about it, and the editor’s answer was, in effect, that if he did not like the way the articles were written he could try to do better. :

He immediately started to write. The result of his efforts is the series which appeared under the title of “The Confessions of a Railroad Signalman.” These articles are not of a nature which tends to increase our national pride in our railroad system, for they are in effect a rather severe arraignment of the management of all railroads in general, and of his own, the Boston & Maine, more particularly, but none of the railroads has sued the Atlantic Monthly for libel. This series of articles brought him to the attention of the public, and it was not long before President Eliot called him to Cambridge to confer with him. President Eliot saw that he knew what he was talking about, and he appointed him to lecture before the new School of Business Administration. He will give a series of lectures next spring, but the subject and the exact time have not been decided on. Soon after his interview with President Eliot he was called to Washington for a conference with President Roosevelt.. What passed between them has not been revealed, but Fagan’s reputation was made. The answers of the railroads to the first series of articles have been chiefly of the “"What else can we do” sort, and it will be .interesting to see whether Mr. Fagan has gone deeply enough into the subject to tell them what they can do to improve things. Just to fill in his spare time he is lecturing in different parts of the United States, now in Chicago, now before the convention of railroad surgeons in New York, or before the City club of Boston, and he is beginning to make people believe that he is not “working for himself all the time,” but at least part of the time for his ideals of what the American railroad ought to be., And, finally, this altogether remarkable man works eight hours a day in the little dingy tower in North Cambridge when he is not speaking in gome other part of the country, because “it keeps him in touch with his subject.” - g His Solicitude. The Dominie—Why are you anxious for me to dine with you on Thanksgiving, my young friend? Freddie—'Cause dad said he would not go to the expense of a turkey unless some one should come to dinner. —Puck. : One of His Trials, . Yeast—Do you believe in trial mar riages? ; : Crimsonbeak—Well, mine’s been a trial to me, all right!—Yonkers Statesman. ! s ‘

LOST TITLE TO KETCHEL : :gb % R 3 A@wﬁ“v({s o ‘%{ ; S £ios e | - ‘ " ‘;:.:::‘iil:':}:..:‘;:.»:.I‘ o ,A‘ 2 2 }A;A.;,e?‘g;};‘-;*“ % @\hx - E& S W e W e R ey : & o adl o B ~= . . 1{ . SIS {oo ogmß g - Gt e »9 g ; « a 3 SRB s R e S S . S G . R A . e 2 o ) V piLLY X ¢ f} \Qf'l"/ ; e Billy Papke, the Spring Valley, t 11.,, scrapper, who lost the middleweight championship to Stanley Ketchel of Michigan in their recent bout at Colma, Cal. - :

MAY DROP MARATHON RUN FROM THE OLYMPIC GAMES

Action of Hayes and Durando Has Hurt Event Among Lovers of Amateur Sport.

| That the United States does not in- ' tend to be caught napping when the | time for the next Olympic games rolls 'around was shown at the annual ;meeting of the Amateur Athletic. | union Tecently. In all the hubbub 1 raised over America’s righteous indig-{ ! nation at Great Britain a most im- ' portant move on the part of this body almost escaped attention. A strong | committee, composed for the most . part of men who had to experience the injustice of England last summer, was appointed to bring about an international conference which would form an organization for the conduct of fu- | ture Olympic meets, and especially to insure the appointment of impartial ;omcials, to arrange a set of purely i élympic championship events—in ;short to see that everything shall be | done on an international scale. ‘ The American committee is composed of -men who may be depended iupon to see that this country gets | fair treatment when the conference ‘convenes. _ Primarily, the Americans i intend to insist that there shall be ja list of standard events for the | Olympic championship. Heretofore ' there have been certain events, known as the track and field section, which 'were generally understood to be for the Olympic championship.. At the ILondon meet a lot of minor events in which Zngland alone was entered, Iwere put on the program and by icounung these uncontested victories ! England was able to get to‘gether [enough points to claim the ©Olympic ]‘ championship. ; { In view of the dispute in |which !the Marathon victory has been | brought by the action of Dorando and i Hayes turning professional in order to make money out of their sensationas ! performances at London and the prev\fous aci of Sherring, the winner at § Athens two years ago, it is veryf likely | that the International Olympic courlcﬂ will throw the Marathon run oft Ithe_ Olympic program. That this | should be done is the sentiment of the | leading members of the American ]commlttee; v B | It is pointed out that these games | are held purely to foster clean ama- | teur sport and that any event which | tends to professionalize the sport is a detriment to it. Dorando and Hayes !were the heroes of the Marathon run | and both succumbed to the tempta- ; tion ot make money out of whfit ‘they | achieved through their own | efforts land the efforts of other amateur | sportsmen. Their action ‘in g¢ing on i the stage and then rerunning their lrace in New York for a purse dces | emateur sports no good.

MWGRAW NEARLY BOUGHT BUSH Passed Youngster Up When He Failed to Obey Orders. That Owen Bush, the young: sl.ortstop secured by Detroit from Indianapolis, had much to do with bringing the American league pennant to DeZ troit is generally - conceded. It was the brilliant work of the recruit which prevented the champions from being routed when the mishap to O’Leary robbed them of a shortstop. It was Bush’s good work, both in the field and at the bat, which helped the Tigers to the. victories which they needed to give them the flag. It has leaked out that McGraw came very near to closing a deal for Bush after he had secured Marquard from the. Indianapolis team. But after watching Bush in a game on a day the Giants were not playing, he concluded that he could not use the youngster, and all because he made a play which, though successful, did not suit the astute manager of the New York team. It seems that Bush came to bat with the bases filled and two »ut. Instead of following instructicns,'and hitting the ball out, Bush sought to cross his adversaries by laving the ball down and beating it oit. The play worked as he figured for he reached first in safety, and the man on third scored. What was New York's loss was Detroit’s guin, for once he jnined the Tigers he bolstered up a Padly crippled infivld, and made it possible for the Tigors to win their second pennant. : : Baum to Lead llllinois Eleven. Benny Baum, left end on the Illinois football team for two years, has been elected captain of the varsity for 1909 after a close race with John Richards, right end on the Illinois. Baum is a junicr in the university and hails from Phoenix, Ariz.

RAY EWRY TELLS HOW TO TRAIN FOR STANDING JUMP Champion Declares Nef‘ve is One ‘of Most Important Essentials, as Only One Effort ?s to Be Made.{-

Ray Ewry, champion high jumper, says: “The standing jumps regujre good nerve as there is only t* effort to be made. All the stre®eth must be expended in that one effort, necessitating a perfect control of the whole muscular system. Jumping naturally implies leg werk, but I find that this is true only to a certan point. To prove this, jump until you are tired. The next day, or second day following, sh(}uld show you what muscles are sore; and’ you can then take work in strengthening those particular parts. ; : “Skipping the rope is one of the best exercises for the instep, the ‘squats’ for the thighs, the kicks for the, abdominal muscles, /Tu]l ‘arm swings for the shoulders. ' The neck muscles running up thetback of the head should receive attention, as they are used in controlling the arms. Do not work until tired, quit just short of this point. Let all your work be quick and snappy. The main thing about the standing jump is suppleness and control of the body while in the air. This requires lots of practice. “In the high jump .the arms are swung sharply down and then upward, the body at the same timd straightening out like a released spring. At the instant of leaving the ground the whole figure is in -a straight line. When the proper height is reached the leg next to the bar should be raised over the bar and the knee drawn up as far as possible. The leg is 2 the same time being shifted over the bar, and the other leg is then lifted, the two passing each other in the scissors action.

“Get your nerves in good shape. This is one great essential in the standing jumps. Avoid the use of intixicants or stimulants which will effect the digestion. Your nerves must be under perfect control or you will lose the jump, even though you be the stronger man physically.”

CHAMPION SUFFERS INJURY

Vo ' SR, O R R X i s D e (8 . gﬁi&% e o e . g Martin Sheridan, all-round athletic champion of the Irish-American Athletic club of New York city, is in the hospital, suffering from a broken collar bone and dislocated shoulder; received by a fall while attempting a pole vault in the A. A. U. championship contests held at Madison Square Garden recently. Sheridan had reached the apex of his leap, when the pole slipped,. and he was hurled to the ground. It is thought he may never beé able to repeat his record-breaking performances. Allerdice to Lead Michigan Eleven. . Billy Wasmund of Detroit, quarter on the Michigan team for two years, was defeated in the race for the Wolverine captaincy by “Dave” Allerdice of Indianapolis, who was chosen by the 12 “M” meu as the leader of the Maize and Blue for next year. Allerdice kicked his way into fame this fall as half back and won the appreciation of his teammates in the Penn game, when he played nearly the en« tire contest with a broken collarbone

BAAAAA A A A A AN I PSPPIt Chicago will see all the top-notch billiardists in a tournament for the 18.2 world’s championship late in February or early in March, according to present plans of the moving spirits in the cue world. Hoppe, who relinquished the title for 18-inch balk-line, two shots in, will be one of the participants and the other stars wiil include Sutton, Slosson, Calvin Demarest, the former amateur champion; Morningstar and one other, probably Cutler. It was hoped that Jake Schaefer would be able to enter the tourney, but he has written the promoters from Denver that his health would not allow him to return to the east before spring. Just at present Schaefer is not even practicing at billiards, so he would be in no form te contest with such a galaxy of talent All of the stars expected to enter are busily engaged in practice matches at 18.2 now, and the event looms up as one of the most interesting billiard affairs ever given. ‘Chicagoans will be especially interested in the showing of Calvin Demarest. It will be the first big tourney for the youthful cue marvel, and his friends are anxious to see what he can do when stacked up against the best professionals. That Demarest will some day be the cham-

pion of champions is the firm convic: tion of lovers of billiards in Chicago. His playing has improved steadily, and at the present time, competent judges are reminded byehlis playing of Schaefer when the “wizard” was at his best. Of course it is experience in crucial games that Demarest needs most of all. So fast has he perfected his style that Chicago critics say he needs only about two years more tc distance the whole field. ;

Hamilton Fish, Jr., the newly-elect ed captain of Harvard’s football team, is one of the best-liked athletes at Cambridge. As a member of a promi P e el 'l . Il - =W 1 | = N i I | N\ =N B A :J ;ﬂ‘\."'."; 3 ~"/ 2= & \\.\i\' 2 y ll| Z”/?‘ ¥ [ | 4"1.1/,',;25:2" N };, ‘u\ N , i, ok ' = -18 o I ‘\ff-’;’,“"’ :".’.‘i' o é 5 "!';'!}[ Z Gy - / [ l’::""’;;:{.'l = ' | Z R = g ‘ AN = ZA | ! i ////,7"l‘92':' S & é':'j ; | ///, RN o 5 / -’.é i B 0 Y Lot LS A / : /L 2,/////////1 | vy cosn : / 4 T \\\\"/I[,,’ ’//’7 3 /“/ \\\.'A ol | LV/aR Tree== RJ N | X HAITILTON F/SH J=, Par—Q——d . nent New York family, and having come from St. Mark’s school, Fish was naturally slated for Harvard’'s most exclusive undergraduate clubs. He is a member of the Porcelian club, and also of the Sphinx, Institute of 1779 and D. K. E. He rooms in Hampden hall, one of the many private dormitories at Harvard. Fish's home is at Garrison-on-the-Hudson in New York, and he is a son of Hamilton Fish, former assistant treasurer of the United States. As the result of his election to the football -captaincy he will undoubtedly be chosen one of the prominent class officers next year at the senior elections. He will also be a member of the Hasty Pudding club in the course of a few weeks, when its elections ‘from the junior class are held. :

In Johnny Evers, Chance has one of the quickest thinking players that ever stepped upon a diamond, and when Chance gets ready to quit Evers is his logical successor as manager. Evers is the only second baseman in a class with Lajoie. Evers, however, is still a youngster, while the Nap manager has passed the zenith of his baseball career as a player. It was six year ago that Evers, a recruit from the Troy (N. Y.) club, joined the Cubs as an understudy to Bobby Lowe, who had been playing great ball for Chicago. He was only 18 years old then, and looked as if he should be attending grammar school instead of trying to make good with a big league club. Lowe broke his leg, however, and Evers was sent to second. Immediately the baseball writers began to rave about the kid second baseman, and for six years they have never ceased, for he has never gone back. When Lowe recovered he never had a chance to resume his regular position, and finally was released. Good a manager as Chance is, it is doubtful if - he has anything on his youthful second baseman when it comes to possessing baseball acumen. The “Kid” lies awake nights to think out plays and baseball problems. It was he that was on the alert when Merkie failed to touch second base in that historic game at New York, the game that gave Chicago the championship instead of New York. - John W. Wilce of Milwaukee, general choice for all western full back this fall, has been elected captain of the Wisconsin university football team for next year. Osthoff and Bovle, tackles, contested the election with him and it took three ballots to decide it. Wilce is an all-around athelete. In his first year in the university he was a member of the victorious Badger ‘eight which won at Poughkeepsie, iast June he rowed on the varsity eight, last winter he was a substitute a: basket ball team, and during the last - two yedrs has been on the foothall -