Richmond Palladium (Daily), Volume 43, Number 321, 23 November 1918 — Page 10

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EXCHANGE COLUMN Open to All Boys and Girls. These Ada Cost You Nothing; Send In Your "Wants" to The Palladium - Junior. . WANTED To buy girl's bicycle. Phone 4658. LOST A two-bladed electrocuted knife that will pick up tacks and mall nails. Was dropped between 11th and 12th on North B street. Return to , James Ronald Ross, 811 North 11th Btreet. LOST A pair of kid gloves. If found please return to 207 South Tenth street. WANTED To buy green trading . stamps at once. Please bring to tbe house. Charles Walsh, 308 South 4th St. FOR SALE Aeroplanes, made by A. William Winner. Call at 31 North Ninth street. WANTED Tutoring backward" pupils from 4:30 to 6:00 and from 7:30 to 9:30 in the afternoons and evenings. Phone 2828. FOR SALE 16-Inch airplanes with wheels, 75 cents ; 8-inch with wheels, 35 cents. Leoline Klus. FOR SALE Foui Belgian Hares. Three does : and one buck nine months old. Phone 3672. WANTED At once, to buy Green Trading Stamps. Charles Walsh, 308 South Fourth street i ' FOUND A reft sweater belt in the South Tenth Street rfark. Owner may have same by calling Elsie Baker, 207 South Tenth street FOR SALE Pigeons. William Hoffe. 418 South Eleventh street. FOR SALE Two French poodles. Call at 322 Randolph street or phone 3153. FOR SALE Air rifle. See Leoline Klus, 915 N. O. street. WANTED New scraps of all kinds of good, for quilt pieces, two to three cents a pound paid for them. Alma Chamness, 16 North Eighteenth street, city. ' WANTED Boys to join the Lone Scouts of America. For" further ' information call at 229 South Second street or see William F. Gilmore. WANTED Doll wigs to make. Call 111 North Third street, or phone 1821. WANTXSD To buy girl's bicycle. Nina Murray, 216 South Ninth street

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Scraps From Sammy Stay-at-Home's Old Kit Bag

THANKSGIVING. The ripe rosy apples are all gathered in; They wait -for the winter in barrel and bin; - ! And nuts for the children a plentiful store4 , Are spread out to dry on the broad ' attic floor. The great golden pumpkins, that grew such a size, Are . reajy to make into Thanksgiving pies; And all good times that the children hold dear, Have come round again with the feast of the year. Now, what shall we do in our bright, happy homes? And what do you say is the very best way To show you're grateful on Thanksgiving Day? The best thing that hearts that are thankful can do, Is this, to make thankful other hearts, too; For lives that are grateful, and sunny, and glad, . To carry their 'sunshine to lives that are sad; For children, who have all they want and to spare. Their good things with poor children to share; For this will bring blessings, and this is the way To show we are thankful on Thanksgiving Day. SELECTED by M. B. A BOY'S DREAM. v Away from the city, 'way back in the hills, In the diminion of rippling rills, ThereJs where a boy's instinct tells him to go, 1 There where his courage surely will show, x There's where he pitches his tent And says to himself, "Gee, I'm glad I went" Finding himself fighting with a grizzly bear, Or smelling an odor of "something good" in the air, Or just as a tramp points a gun at his head, He turns on his side and falls out of bed. Brooklyn Eagle Junior. TWO FROGS. v Two froga fell into a deep cream . bowl, And one was an optimistic soul. But the other took the gloomy .view, "We Bhall drown," he said, without more ado. So with a last despairing cry He flung up his legs and said "Good-bye." Quoth the other frog with a merry grin, "I can't seem to get out, but I won't give in; I'll jnst swim around with the hope intent That life and living for me is meant." Bravely he swam till it would seem His struggles began to churn the cream. On the face of the butter at last he stopped, And out of the bowl he gayly hopped. What of the moral? Tis easily found If you can't hop out, keep swimming around. i Brooklyn Eagle Junior.

RICHMOND PALLADIUM. SATURDAY NOV.

BACK HOME AGAIN. The children clap their hands in glee; For brother's come back from , across the sea To spend Thanksgiving Day; And tell them' stories of France, far away. "Let's give thanks to God," said mother, "That He has brought back our k son and brother." So they bowed their heads together once more. And thanked Him for guarding this son in the war. "And now, O Father, since war has ceased, ( Let us always-and ever, have peace. And, Father, care for the wounded ones; For they, too, are some mother's sons. Amen." Julia R, Burr. PULL UP THE SHADE. Photographer Is there any particular way in which you would like to be taken? Mr. Johnsing Yes, sah, if dere's no dejection I'd like to be taken a light cream color. Boy's Life for October. MORE THAN ENOUGH TO MEET THE BILL. Second Class Scout Why is ten times ten like tbe American Army? Tenderfoot Why? Second Class Scout Because it is a Hun Dread (hundred). Boys' Life for October. A FAVORITE HYMN. It is interesting to know that the music of the hymn "Onward Christian Soldier," which is such a favorite with the men at the front was written by one of our allies, Sir Arthur Sullivan, an Englishman of the highest type, who probably did more to draw America and England together than any other one person. Most of us know, I suspect, that Sir Arthur wrote the music for some of the comic operas that Americans like so well, such as "The Mikado," "Pinafore," and "The Pirates of Penzance," and yet it is not generally known that he composed the music for "Onward Christian Soldier," and many of our well known hymns. . These operas tell us in a humorous way, more about the real Englishman than we could ever have found out in a hundred years any other way, and . they are as popular in our country as they are in England. Sir Arthur died in 1900.

Answers to Last Week's Puzzles. I. Join a baseball club. 2 Picking pockets. 3. Go up a tree and talk nutty to him. 4. A street car track. 5. Thirty-six inches of brick. , 6. Because there is no dyeing or parting there. 7. Wear knee pants. 8. If you trim off a lamp, it stays in; if you trim up a a lady, she goes out 9. 'Send five cents by express to San Francisco. 10. A fence. II. They smelt it 12. Wheu you drop it, you don't have to stoop to pick it up. . ,

23, 1918

Romance Is Found at San Francisco Docks There are men walking the streets of San Francisco who remember the days when the clippers, those marvels of Yankee ship construction, came tearing into port from the Cape Horn passage with records smashed, with sheets padlocked and mast sprung, with casualty lists of dimensions, with iron willed autocrats and their bucko mates engaging in battles royal with crews of desperate men fed up with reckless sailing, and belaying pin soup, and mutinous. They remember the days when the great wheat fleet rendezvoused here yearly, filled sailor town with life and strife, and departed, Europe bound, with the harvest of the valley. They saw the birth, and growth, and bloom, and decay of crimpdom; they knew the boarding master when he was a force in the community, a man with gold seals upon his waistcoat and a voice of authority; a man whom politicians . placated and judges listened to; a man who held in his fighting fist the destiny of countless sailorraen, and who wantonly used his fist ; a man whose power and influence extended the world over, for no ship might enter or leave this port without paying toll to the crimp. San Francisco has produced many famous men of various sorts, men who scaled high the peaks of respectable success and whose names became familiar to a nation. But no jurist or statesman, or writer, or merchant from our town ever gained a tithe of the renown attained by these old time lordly bullies of our waterfront. The Chicken, the Knitting Swede, Shanghai Brown these names, and others, are written indelibly upon the waters of the world: they are spoken in Stockholm and Hongkong; they are the heroes of the dogwatch; they are legendary in every fo'c'ale afloat. Brutal, bloodstained heroes, mostly; men of vain and subtle tricks, who made their own law, and feared not God, nor man, nor devil; artists in rascality not the sort of heroes to parade before a Sunday school class; not the sort of fame to impress a young ladies' seminary. But a real fame, none the less; world-wido and enduring, already folk lore in a dozen tongues. American Children and Utile Russians Pennies and dimes contributed to the American Red Cross by boys and girls in .this country are providing midday nourishment for more than 2,200 school children at Archangel. A report to Red Cross headquarters said that -most of the Russian children are in an anaemic condition, due to the inability to obtain proper food before they fled from the interior of Russia. The fact that children of America provided the. fund to help the little sufferers in Russia aroused the keenest interest among the beneficiaries, the report said. DINTY'S FAVORITE BIRD

Somebody's Son Dr. James Grafith sat in his office at the Mercy hospital, looking gloomily out of tbe window at October's dreary weather and at the hurrying figures of men anxious to get home to their wives and children now waiting at the doors to greet them. He was suddenly startled to his feet by tbe ringing of the telephone, "Hello, accident, come quick." "Alright" was the answer given by Dr. Grafith. As he went down the stairs leading to the operating room, he muttered, "Another damn fool, that risked his life." After having set the leg in place, the internal injuries attended to, and the last stitch sewed, he slipped off his rubber gloves, giving orders for them to take good care of this young man, and he would come to see him early in the morning. Going home he went to bed thinking he had performed a very skillful operation. But during the night he could not sleep. He thought of his son, Dick, who had left him fifteen years ago on account of a dispute, and the doctor getting up put on his bathrobe and sat down to read a magazine, but the magazine had no interest for him, though it was one of the latest physicians' and surgeons' best books. At last the telephone rang, "Hello, hello!" He received no answer and slammed the receiver in its place. Going to bed he slept a few moments, but was once more aroused by the ringing of the phone, "Hello, number please." He grew angry and would not answer. At breakfast the next morning, while sipping his coffee, he was attracted by a little piece on the front page of the morning paper, it read, "Doctor performs skillful operation, and patient may live." After breakfast he went to the hospital and met the night nurse waiting for him at the dor, "Did you recive no call by phone about 2 o'clock," she asked, "No," he exclaimed, but his gray eyes could not meet those of the nurse. "How did he rest last night" asked Grafith. "He is resting easy, he's dead, replied the nurse. "Dead!" exclaimed the doctor. "Yes," replied the nurse, "Before he died, a few old letters were found in his pocket, and he mumbled something that we could not understand, but it sounded like he said, 'Sorry, sorry, sorry." The doctor turned back the coverlet and looked long and hard at the white, drawn face now at rest then going to the stand he read each letter and when he had finished, his face became very grave. Going to the bed he held the hand of the young man, and sobbed, "My boy. Dick, my boy." The nurse left the room wondering why the doctor should act so strangely. Contributed by Florence Muey, ; St Andrew's School.