Richmond Palladium (Daily), Volume 43, Number 214, 20 July 1918 — Page 13

RICHMOND PALLADIUM, JULY 20, 1018

PADS THREB

THE JUNIOR PALLADIUM Tb Junior Palladium Is the children's section ot the Richmond Palladium, founded May 6, 1916, and issued each Saturday afternoou. All boys and girls are invited to be reporters .nd contributors. News Items, social events, "want" advertisements, stories, local jokes and original poems are acceptable and will be published. Articles should be written plainly and on one side of the paper, with the author's name and age signed. Aunt Molly is always jtlad to meet the children personally at) they bring their articles to the Palladium office, or to receive letters addresteu to the Junior Editor. This is your littlo newspaper and we hope each ooy and girl will use It thoroughly.

Convinced?

The Mother

The trench life in France is an exciting one. For this reason, combined with many others, Frank ConJay had chosen to be a defender of the "Stars and Stripes." At this moment, Frank was sitting on an old barrel in the front line of trenches, reading a letter from home. Standing beside him was his best friend, "Duke" Harriron. The boys knew him by no other name than "Duke." Conlay put the letter in his pocket and started to light his pipe. "Duke" gave him such a punch in the side that the grunt blew the match out. After an apology, Duke

called Conlays attention to a bunch I of soldiers near by, who were fin-! gcring a medal which had been bo-1 stowed upon one of their fellow i

soldiers for bravery in action. Duke smiled. Conlay grunted contemptuously. On the following day Dr.ke found Canlay sitting in the same place, nervously fiingering his blouse. It was "Zero Hour," in thirty-five minutes the men would rush over the top for victory. . Already the artillery had started the barage fire. The outposts were playing tunes on machine guns, and the great human birds hovering in the air seemed to be playing tag. At the rear of the trench an ambulance wagon had come up and the stretcher bearers hopped out and started to do their various duties. "You see that big fellow there," asked Conlay, indicating the person by pointing a long finger at him. The man whom he men was about six feet tall and looked to weigh about one hundred and eighty pounds. He was a young looking fellow and well built. "Yes," answered Duke, "what of it?" "Well, sir, that fellow is big enough to take four Fritzes on all tit once, and there he is handling the end of a stretcher. He'e got a yellow streak, that's what he has. He joined the hospital corps so he wouldn't have to get out here and stop bullets like me and you do." "Now listen, Cohley," satd Duke, soothingly, "that boy is all right. What would the wounded men do if it wasn't for them to pick the poor fellows up?" "All that's all right in its place, Duke, but that big fellow belongs in front." "O well, I won't argue with you. I never could tell you anything, anyway." At the appointed time the bell was rung and the fellows streamed

over the top screaming their war cry and charging down upon the German trenches ofter a run of two hundred yards, they jumped down into the German trenches and then began hand to hand baitles. Many men were killed on both sides, but when the Americans returned to their trenches they had thirty-six German prisoners to their credit. Suddenly a cry went up that the first lieutenant was missing and immediately a dozen men started Into No Man's Land to find the missing officer. They had not advanced fifty yards until they found a stretcher bearer that had been wounded, dragging the body of the unconscious officer towards the American trenches. Two weeks later the stretcher bearer was well, and the first man to shake his hand was Frank Conlay. Duke stood in the background and chuckled to himself.

It was a cold winter day and the

ground was covered with ice. A poor old woman, ragged and gray, and trembling with age, stood at the corner afraid to venture across the crowded street. She waited for a long time; but the hurried lines rushed past herewith an endless stream. After a while some school boys came half sliding, half running along the street. They were glad not only because school was out for the day but because it was snowing. It was the first snow of the season, and they were talking of the sport they would have sliding down the hiil side. Past the poor old woman tuey hurried without a thought of her trouble. Only one, the gayest of them all, saw how weak und timid she was and "topped to help her. "Let me help you," he said. With her trembling hand resting on his arm he guided her across the street. He did not stop to hear her thanks, but with a light happy heart he hastened to join his companions who were by this time quite a distance in front of him. Two or three of the more thoughtless boys were ready to laugh at him for helping the woman. "Hello, Frank," said one of them, "was that ypu mother?" "No," he replied, "but she was somebody's mother." His companions made no answer for they were in the wrong. That night when the old woman knelt down in her humble home, the prayer that she said was: "God be kind to that noble boy and bless him in every time of need. Contributed by Pearl Bryant, Findley school.

Mothering Our Boys Over There

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Mrs. relmont Tiffany, now in France with the American Red Cross, has been working twelve and fourteen hours a day in canteen service with the men of the American and French forces. "War is such an ugly thing, eueh a dirty, sordid thing," she said, "that at least we should give our men warmth and cleanliness and colour wherever we can. Picture to yourself fifty dirty, tired men falling out of a cattle train where they have been cooped up two or three days with a detachment of mules, eating and sleeping with them. They have a couple of hours to wait so they take a h't shower at the, K. C. canteen with plenty of soap and towels given to inem and then have a good meal, waited on by such cheerful, kindly American girls, and after playing the piano a bit and writing a

letter home they depart. Thoea people who have given the money to do this work with would be so very grateful if they could only see. "In the canteen proper the girli in their blue and white uniforms look so nice and the food la mo good. Voucan'tthink whatltmeans to the men. The first .night wa opened at D. we had 680 men at one o'clock. They ate us out of house and home though it seemej a strange hour , to eat. They carried off every magazine and paper we had: thev drank -rnffei nnri

' cocoa and milk; they ate bread, butter and Jam and cakes and

cnocuiate; their officers were fed too, and finally the major cama and shook my hand over and ovei again and said they were all happier and less homesick than any time since they'd left America"

GOAL CONSUMERS MUST my vinter surriy ym Consumers must ljuy tbar VlnUr uppjy of Coal dmig tits SpriiyJ and Summer jfcr ttorade iF Production w to 1m

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DOLLY'S BATH. I haven't had a bath for weeks, And then one awful day Did Janie come and find me, And she started right away. She got a monster basin, With a lot of water in it, And popped me in to soak; The said, "I'll come back in a minute." She brought a most enormous sponge, And a big white square of soap; Then she rubbed me and she scrubbed me I had no 4aint left "I hope." And then all dripping wet She hung me up to dry. Thank goodness I'm just made of wood I'll recover by and by. Contributed by Marie Shockey. Starr school.

STORY ABOUT the KAISER. . I am going over to Germany and kill the kaiser if I can find him. I will show you how too kill the kaiser. He is a man and he wears a hat that looks like a sword. He thinks that lie is very smart, but he isn't Russell Lady, IB, Starr school.

RIDDLES. Black and white and read all over. A newspaper. Up and down never touches sky or ground. A pumphandle. What smells first when you enter a drug store? Your nose. Who dares not to take off his hat before our flag. The kaiser. Edward Weadick. Webster school.

"In God Is my salvation and my glory, the rock of my strength." Contributed by Edith Hazlit.

KAISER BILL.

Good bye Kaiser Bill! I'll send you a message up the hili; And in that message I will say A good rnd plenty for all the day. Charles Rogers. 3A, Richmond, Ind.

The Retribution . It seems from a certain point of

view that the just suffer more than the unjust, and sometimes the unjust enjoy the pleasures that those who endeavor to do right should have. This is not always true however perhaps never, but from time to time the supernatural power has entered and punished far more swiftly and severely the criminal than any court could have done. Such is (he case in this narative. The cuptaih was seated before the forecastle consult some charts. He was an old man, straight as an arrow, probably six feet tall, steel pray hair, weather beaten face with shaggy tyobrows; in fact he was a typical mariner of the South seas. The sbu was the good ship Vulcan, a three-mast essel, one of the old type that plied the South seas. She was just going out of sight of the port Dukar of South Africa, bound for Liverpool. There was a good breeze perhaps loo good for low banks of clouds could be seen on the horizon. The captain glanced up from his charts and scanned the sky. A frown slowly settled on his face as he

watched the clouds In the southwest. However, he resumed his study of the charts after barking

out a rew orders when a scuffling was heard, the door of the hatchway opened and two figures emerged from the shadow of the stairs holding a third. "What is all this," demanded the captain, risiflg from his chair. "A stow away sir," answered the mate holding the prisoner firmly. "I found him under my bunk in the cabin and he is an ugly customer." The stowaway proved to be as unsightly as the mate had said. He was a rather short man with broad sCoulders and stealthy step. He was in need of a shave and his features were undoubtedly Oriental with crafty looking eyes. lie shuffled his feet nervously under the scrutinizing glance of the captain. After a volley of questions were fired at him it was found that his name was Wesson and that he bad come from Dukar. He

said that he was a fireman by trade and so was immediately put to work. After two days had passed, the sea was choppy ajid the waves were whitecapped. The barometer was rapidly falling and the wind was increasing in violence. While preparing the vessell for the storm Wesson was sent up by the mate to the crows nest to place the signals for the night. He had already made enemies with all on board the ship, but most of all he hated the mate. He swore vengence. Four hours passed and the wind was a hurricane. The old southwestern had broken 'and was now at its worst. The masts on the ship creaked while the winds shrieked through the sails. Rain poured with never ceasing violence and the lightning flashed vividly in the sky, followed by ear splitting thunder. One wave rose after another nearly swamping the ship. Great pillars of waves rose and fell. The storm was at its height when a crash was heard from amid ships. The ship reeled under the blow and settled rapidly. The sailors were doomed. The ife boats had been torn from their davits so violent had been the wind. On the following morning the sea was calm. Wreckage could be seen floating here and there on the sea. On closer observation three men could be seen clinging to a spar, the only survivors of the storm. The men proved to be Wesson, the mate and a sailor named Jones.

The spar to which they clung was evidently from another ship because it bore the name "La Marte." The n ate and Wesson had been quarreling when Wesson hit the mate with a stick. The blow stunned the mate and he sank to rise no more. It had been a cruel cold blooded murder. "My God!" cried Jones. "Shut up," snapped Wesson, "or you will share the same fate." A sail hove in sight and they were picked up. Jones Immedately told thij captain of the ship the deed that had been done, but Wes-

THE STORY OF MRS. SCOTT. Mrs. Mary Scott was the most envied woman in all Jonesville before the war. Strangers visiting there would always want to hear her story and to see her home. She had been the leader of Jonesvllle society. Her husband liar been the richest man who had ever lived there. Before the war a visitor could always find her at her home, but now she is hard to find. She is always working for some patriotic, cause. The people have come to look upon her as their best friend. If the stranger is fortunate she will hear Mrs. Scott's story. In 1917, hir only son who mshe loved with all her heart enlisted as an aviator. She had protested bitterly, but her son could not be persuaded to remain at home until he wa8 drafted. After he had gone to camp the letters she wrote to him were' filled with her grief. He tried to thingk of some way to make his mother see why he had enlisted, but it was of no use. Whenever

she visited him she always complained bitterly. In spite of this Martin Scott soon won the praise of his officers by the intelligent way in which he worked and he was soon made a captaix One morning when only one of the machines wa3 in use a sudden wind came up. Martin knew that the man would never be able to bring his machine down in safety, bo he ran quickly to his own machine and started for the other airplane which was drifting to and fro. Martin was able to tell the man in the machine what to do and he was able to bring it to the ground in safety, but the machine In which he sat caught in a tree. He was unable to free it and knew that there was not much hope. Suddenly the machine burst into flames and the wind had become much stronger, blew it to the ground where it burned for a long time. When the people were able to reach it they found nothing but wreckage and the charred body. Mrs. Scott was gone and could not be found until the day of the funeral. Martin was buried with military honors and everyone mourned for him as every one that knew him loved him. When Mrs. Scott heard the sad news she was ill for many days. After he recovery she was much changed. While she was sick it seemed to her that her eon had come to her and made clear the reason why he had enlisted and asked to help carry on his work by doing things that would the United States win. She had come to realize what we are fighting for and is doing all in her power to help.

son told the captain that Jones had gone mad from exposure. A week later a trial was held, but Wesson proved to be such a good liar that hewas found not guilty. Some days later Wesson got into a quarrel over a card game in a saloon and killed a man. Jones happened to be in the village and told the seamen of Wesson's former murder.

The mob of men seized Wesson, bound and dragged him through the

streets and to the summit of a high cliff. When he learned the nature of his punhhmen he plead with them to release him. He cried out In fear and horror and finally went nto hysteria raving like a maniac. Two men dragged him to the edge of the cliff and hurled him over. As he was being hurled through ppace a voice in the mob called out "La Marte." The only answer was the wailing of tht ocean breaking against the rocka.