Richmond Palladium (Daily), Volume 44, Number 59, 18 January 1919 — Page 14

RICHMOND PALLADIUM, SATURDAY. JAN. 18, ISM Prcperly Chd Yanks Idolized in War Swept Zones Just as They Are on Return to U. S. Laughs From France ' Second Cook Oscar Scholds was very weary . when his regimeat marched into Louppy. It was 10 o'clock at night and nearly all of the . billets ' were crowded. . He searched . around until . finally he decided to- crawl ioto an Open' win--dow and rot up in his blankets, no matter' Who 'was. sleeping' within.t r .1 - 1 ' 1 - m - a God made the polar bear a coat, All -white. Just like the snow; ' So he could so about and be Quite hidden from hla foe. 1 tftre -tiger flidnVget-M "Btrfpea-; '-""By.jchance. JH tell you trueri.' He's made that way so he can hid ... 'InTMcfcets- tf Twnrboo.' - " , . , .- ."..' 'The lion has a brownish coat f. " 1 - :- Right wisely .'too: 'tis- planned. -4 .7 laid 'Wh.-wvvAJ "-- '-'''-?' I -It -wa nearly daylight when ! a .lie Jieeda .but-ctouch. quite, still " to aonsnoey 'coionei -uwoHeTnro -ronrra

PAGE rOUB

ts?5 1 SL fiFT life

Part of the desert iand. : ' ' - , The parrot Urea la tropic Ja'nds,' Where trees'are always green ; And that la why his reathcrs are -Of such a verdant sheen. Yet for the owl such feathers fine, Tis plain would never do; Since he must always work at night 7 His coat is plain of hue;

-Although the little green tree-frog " . Is . very small and meek, . -He-'a-dressed -to play. with anyone -The game of hide-and-seek. "-: r Now surely God was wise and good To take such special care That all these living creatures ; Have just what's best to wear. St Nicholas. A fir log cut recently in Tacoma, Washington, was 28 feet long, & feet In diameter, at the top and 10 feet at the bottom. An automobile sat easily on top of this log. Prom this one log, 12,600 feet of lumber was obtained. EXCHANGE COLUMN Open to All Boya and Girl. These Ada Cost You Nothing; Send la Yowr "Wants" to The Palladium Junior. LOST A brown knitted mitten. Leave at Palladium office. FOR SALE Pigeons. Inquire of William Hoppe, 418 South Tenth street. LOST Cuff button. See 610 So. E street. Phone 2110. WANTED To trade a pah of Ice skates for a pair of roller skates, phone 1&80. . LOST Green hat cord. If found, please return to Kenneth Moss, M0 north G. street. WANTED Position of caring for babies and small children after school and on Saturday, by a girl age thirteen. Phone 2828 or call 206 North Ninth street LOST Green hat cord. Return to LeoUne Klua. FOR SALE Mandolin and case. Will sell cheap. Inquire at 222 North 5th street WANTED Boys to Join the Lone Scouts. Call at 229 South Second or see William F. Gilmore at once. LOST Receipt for x,80 hi envel ope. Also contained list of names. It found, return to 128 Richmond avenue. WANTED To buy girl's bicycle. Phone 4658. WANTED To buy green trading stamps at once. Please bring to the house. Charles Walsh, 308 South 4th St FOR SALE OR TRADE Foreign stamps. George Whitesell, 1215 S. C. Street FOR SALE Aeroplanes, made by A. William Winner. Call at 31 North Ninth street WANTED To trade a pair of ice skates for a pair of roller skates. Phone 1580. 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 Doll wigs to make. Call 111 North Third street, or phone I82L

The home-coming celebrations for the returned soldiers will have to be marvelous affairs if they are to exceed the homage paid our doughboys by the peasants of liberated northern France. Everywhere the United States soldier is the idol of the French housewife, while children follow him about as if he were the "Pier Piper" hlmselL The photograph shown here was taken In Brieulles.sur-Bar. An American chaplain is shown sitting on the steps of the small French house where he Is billeted. He is examining a pair of wooden shoes and the family and many of the neighbors are gathered around trying to show their appreciation for his deeds in battle.

As "Our Boys" Received It

In the fall of 1914 an American writing for American newspapers tramped through the sippery mud from Brussels to Routers, marching with the victorious troops of the German Kaiser. Four years later he tramped over these same cobble stones once more; but this time as a doughboy of the United States army. Never was there presented to anyone a contrast mor dramatic. The first time these roads were packed with field-gray men; an endless machine-made, irresistible, moving mass, singing as they went Like water, this torrent flowed down every channel, toward the French border. By the roadside and in the fields were splotched here and there with flaming red, the red pantaloons of fallen poilus. Right at the border roadside where the singing army brushed by him there was one. His hand almost touched the stone marking the frontier line. Watching this scene were groups of huddled peasants, scared, stupe fled. They listened to the booming euns and tried to guess whether the sound was getting further from them or was being driven back. And as one looked about the country-side he saw from the windows of almost every house a white cloth of seme sort tied to a stick pathetic attempts of the peasants to save their homes. There were no other flags in Belgium. In 1918, on November 10, an outpost of the Slst American Division, fighting in Flanders, rode into Hoorebeke St. Corneille at eight in the morning. It saw just disappearing over a hill two German field kitchens doing a Ben Hur, can and lids bumping about and flashing in the early sunlight A captain of a headquarters company of a California outfit followed immediately and knocked on a door of the village to ask for quarters. At once he was fairly suffocated In the embrace of a Flemish grandmother. "You ask for a room!" she cried.

American chaplain in midst of a group of admiring

"For four years the Boche has been taking all without asking!" She flung open the door. ."Here, Amerikaan, the house is yours." He seemed cold. From somewhere they dug him up a stove, and built a fire. He seemed hungry. Soon he dined on Belgian hare. The old man of the farm, who could think of nothing else, insisted upon presenting "Mon Capitaine" with his heavy home-made cane. And by same miracle which was being enacted in thousands of liberated homes a big five-foot, black, yellow, and red flag was found flapping over the doorway. The next morning at six an American attack was planned at this place. Crisp with a biting mist, the day began to clear. Throngh the purple haze hanging over the hill opposite now and then a Boche shape could be seen lurking for an instant. Behind a stone wall five hundred yards from a German machine gun nest Lieutenant Crawford, eyeing his watch, sat with his battery. His minenwerfer (once of the German army and now doing duty as a Yankee Stokes mortar) was in position by the gate ready to romp out on the minute, down the road and up a hill and straight ahead. It was to be a divisional attack. Everybody knew the part he was to play, and only waited for the chance. The harassing fire from the artillery had begun. Then comes news to delay the attack until nine. Rumors, Messages. More waiting. Yanks all in position. A quarter of an hour before the time for the barrage to start, and the artillery men stand by their guns. From the temporary trench of an advance post a major looks through his glasses. Certain movements in the turnip fields across the valley appear strange to him: people run ning and jumping about "Belgians," he comments. "There can't be many Germans there now

French peasants.

with all that excitement going on." Then at that moment came that famous order from Marshal Focb which everyone has now read so many times that knows it by heart The attack of the All-Western di-j vision was never to take place. And from where the German t lines had been came little groups. They were Belgians with a sagging wheelbarrow load of household goods coming home. The doughboy who had been twice in Belgium under such different circumstances walked back to the headquarters mess for breakfast There was no excitement, little comment. A cook was toasting bread on the top of the stove. A top sergeant came by, called attention and read the order suspending hostilities. Two Yanks, Bitting in the stone courtyard near at hand cleaning their rifles, never stopped work. "What'd he say?" asked someone in the rear as the top walked away. "Didn't get all of it," answered his buddy. "Oh, blame it!" said the cook. "This toast got all burned." Stars and Stripes. My Creed I would be true, For there are those who trust me; I would be pure, For there are those who care; I would be strong. For there is much to suffer; I woul be brave, For there is much to dare; I would be friend of all The foe the friendless; I would be giving, And forget the gift; I would be humble, For I know my weakness; I would look up And laugh and love and lift Howard Arnold Walter. One Ford chasing another Ford in.Ireand. What time is It? Ans. Tin after tin.

chest. 'He squirmed out-from un-'

de H weight -and went to sleep. Tlw next morning; Cook 'Scholds " discovered- mar nc naa oeen usine f Though a strange, unbelievable peace settled over the Argonne last week, life changed little for the road menders. One pensive negro was gravely ladling the soupy mud out of the center of the highway when his roving eye was caught by the gleam of two service stripes on the sleev'e of a 'soldier, walking by and "smiling ' audibly!" '. The road : worker paused in his labors and gazed incredulous. "Mah goodness," he murmured, "dat white man has been a whole yeah in dis country and kin still lofty Among the best of the Campfire yarns was the one about the soldier who envied his companion's new shoes. Where had he got them? Why, off a German! "I guess I'll have to go out an' get me a pair' he said, and vanished toward No Man's Land. He came back two hours later, superbly shod. But why had he been so long? "Well," he apologized, "it took me some time. I had to kill 47 different Germans before I could find one with a pair of shoes that would fit me." Everybody knows that the negro has been a terrific fighter, in this war, with an honorable record worthy of his race. But there have been moments of tear for him, just as there have been for the white man, for all soldiers say that before they are to go over the top, their greatest fear is of fear itself. "We Anglo-Saxons shuah am some fightahs," said Mose to his friend after the scrimmage was over. But before he went over the top he was not so certain about the heroics. "What do youal spec de newspapah headlines am gain' to be, Mose" asked his friend. It was ten minutes to 2ero hour; the negroes knew that 10,000 white men were supporting them in the rear. "What do Ah thing dem headlines am goin' to be?" answered Mose. " Ten t'ousand white men t romped to deaff."" An officer of the medical department was paying his first visit to the front line trenches. A corporal from out Missouri way was standing on the lire step engaged in the pleasant pastime of sniping at whatever there was to snipe at. The medico wandered by an open loophole in the parapet. "Crack!" came from a German sniper across No Man's Land. "Whank plooey!" The bullet came whizzing through the loophole and with a naughty thud splashed mud right on the medico's new trench coat 1 "Bang!" replied the corporal's rifle. Deep silence reigned for ten seconds. Then the medico picked himself up from his hands and knees and asked:" "Did you get him. Corporal?" "No, sir," replied the Corp. "But if you'll just walk by that loophole again I'll sure get him next time." Stars and Stripes. President Wilson and his guests on the U. S. S. George Washington enjoyed a high grade mahogany graphophone which the Columbia company provided. Through P. F. Jerome, director of the Bureau of Equipment and Supplies, a fine selection of records accompanied the music box, among the songs being one by the President's own daughter. Miss Margaret Wilson. A similar outfit was placed aboard the U. S. S. Orizaba, which carried the newspaper correspondents and motion picture men. "Let's get where we're going," said General Pershing daring his student days at West Poln