Richmond Palladium (Daily), Volume 44, Number 333, 8 November 1919 — Page 11

1? ft..1 THE JUNIOR PALLADIUM WEEKLY SECTION OF RICHMOND PALLADIUM rRICHMOND, INDIANA, SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 8, 1919

MARJORIE COLE WHO VISITS IN RICHMOND DESCRIBES GREAT WESTERN FOREST FIRE

Juniors: I was talking this i:k wit h a girl who has hud soj many interesting experiences that 1 want to tell you of at least onej of them. The girl is Marjorie Colo, and she was called to Richmond because of the illness and death of her grandfather. Many limes before she has been in Richmond and thinks of her grandfather's home on West Third and National Road as her real home. This week, I am going to toll you how Marjorie helped to fight the largest forest fire in the United States. AUNT POLLY. The time that it all happened was .September, 1919, and Marjorie's most exciting day was the 12th of September. The place where the great fire raged was in th' Rocky mountains in Southern California, around the vicinity of Los Angeles. And the girl was Mai.jorie, a girl of "(iod's Country," who loves the West, and who loves every minute of life and who loves a thrill in the out-of-doors a little better than anything else. Up on the mountains of the San Gabriel canyon, forty-five miles from Los Angeles, is a lodge; all made of wood, and around this lodge are several acres of mountain land all open and free and beautiful, -and this is Marjorie's camp, her very own. An automobile can not reach it ; only a horse can travel the last fifteen miles. Afraid? Not Marjorie! And, really, you see should nof be afraid, for lioris is there. Rons ot Corona is his full name and a very aristocratic wolf-hound he is, with par ents that came over from Russia.1 He is about five feet, eight inches! high when he stands on his hind1 feet and will leap at the neck of; anyone who makes an attempt to: harm Marjorie, and the person! would have very little show against Doris. One evening she decided to go j up to the main camp for supper. This was ihe camp where supplies! were brought for the fire-fighters.. Needing someone to drive a pack! 11. Wit llltllll UUIU IJ I ""I. J'lltv... whore a lire was raging in one part of the United States Forest Reserve they asked her if she would do it. Now a pack train is a number of burros and mules loaded with supplies and headed with a horse, and Marjorie was on the horse. At ten o'clock at night she started. and it was midnight when she reached the place where; many men were resting from the terrible work of fighting a fire. (And by the way, Juniors, the way they fight a fire is to cut down trees for a large area around the fire to keep it from spreading beyond that place). The men were lying around on the ground without any blankets, and the night was very chill, but they had been working about eigh'een hours a day for several days and they were too tired to think of anything at all. Marjorie as Cook. Discovering that the men had not had anything to eat for several hours, Marjorie began cutting bread. Each loaf was cut into four- . teen pieces and before she finished she cut up 350 loaves. She spread these with cheese hik m and meat, so that every man . "d three sandwiches. Early the next morning she started for home. Sleep was what Marjorie wanted Ihen, but three or four hours sleep was all she could have that day. for the fire was getting worse all the time and Marjorie wa3 called to take charge of the main station while the men went to help fight the fire. A Wild Ride. Once the phone rang so excitedly that Marjorie took down the receiver and listened in, although the call was not for her station. This is what she heard: "It's shot Ihe canvou!" Hanging up the receiver she tried j to realize what that meant. She!

tried to picture a fire that was of such force and such size that it could leap a canyon live hundred feet wide, and leap it as suddenly

as if the immense waves of fire had been shot from some powerful gun. They had word that I ho lires all around them were getting bigger all the time, and Marjorie knew that the telephone would soon be burned out so she telephoned her mother in Los Angeles anil told her she was sale at the station. Ten minutes later the phone was burned out. Men were being ordered many places to light the lire, place where many men went around Mount Wilson determined to use all their strength to protect the observatory at Mt. Wilson with its priceless lens. She realized that something must be done, somebody must be done, somebody must be in charge, but unless slie had orders she could show to the men Ihey would not take any orders from her. Iiut Mendenhall, the man who could give her the power to take charge of the main station whatever happened, was live miles away. It was evening and fires were burning furiously all around, but Marjorie decided the only thing to do was to go. As she1 was galloping down the dusty trail she noticed the tracks of many wild animals chat had 1ft t their mountain homes to the great fire, and, dumb refugees, were rushing lor safely somewhereelse on the mountains. Some of these were the tracks of the mountain lion, the wildcat, fox, coon and deer. Marjorie felt her revolver to be sure ii was in her holster, and galloped on. She stopped only long enough at the camp when; Mendenhall was stationed to get full orders from him, and then jumped in her saddle again. In an hour and onehalf after she had left it, she was, once more back to the place where! she had seen the tracks of the wild animals, llul now. on both sides of the narrow roadway and form-' ing an arch over it were walls of i hungry flames. Marjorie gave one look at it and decided that though she liked thrills sh" would not try to ride through that burning archway, so she turned aside and went hack across the river to another path which would take; her to the main station. She tied a moist handkerchief over her mouth so that she could breathe in spite of ihe smoke, and fled on. As she was galloping along in the river bed, she heard a terrible roar, a million limes as great, she says it was. as the Utile roar of Ihe flames of a big lire in one's home fireplace, and she look (1 up to see the lames from the mountains to her right leap across the canyon over her head and join the flames on the mountains to tier left. Her hair which was not covered with her cap was singed and her shirt, for she won' a regular army shirt, was burned in seve ral places. Luckily for her, her horse I was sure footed and unafraid, so; they galloped swiftly on and soon j they reached the station. She; had j b'on gone just three hours from j the station, and though she had I ridden the horse till it was about dead, she was back again with her full orders. "The World on Fire." Three fires were coining toward the station from different directions. Thinking that the fire would reach them soon, they went to the corral anel turned the horses and burros loose with their halters on. Then they sat down to watch it burn, for there was nothing else to do then but that. It was Thursday evening and one of the men expressed what they all thought when he said: "The world is on fire." Red were the flames, not orange and not yellow, just a deep red, and some of them were 400 and 500 feet high. The roar was

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A little worker for the Red Cross. The Red Cros:; membership drive is now on and will continue until November 11, Armistice day. This little miss s one of thousands of workers who ask you to put your dollar n with theirs and thus he lp this organization accomplish the great work that it has set out to do.

like thunder only it was continuous. The heat was so great that it cracked the rocks, anil sent them rolling down the sides of the mountains. ! As luck would have it, the fire turned and went up the mountain and the slat ion where Marjorie! was staying giving orders and pre-j paiing lie; food for the men, was; saved. Two weeks passed before all the fires in that part of the country were put out; and. aft'rp the fires were out, people began to I count the; loss and found that; 2:j7,0u0 acres had been burned, urass, trees and everything, and ii had cost $100,000,000 to put th'' fin out. ; Marjorie Treasures Letter. j And this is the letter that Mar-; jorie ree'eived from the Mr. Charl : ton, forest supervisor of the Uniiod States Forest Reserve: i Los Angeles. Cal. Oct. Miss Marjorie Cole, ! 1(9 Magnolia Ave. Dear Miss Cole: 1 wanteel to wril: 11, 1919. ou several days ago. but not until today did I succeed in finding out your address. I wanted to thank you most sincerely for the cooperation and assistance which you rendered us at the recent fire. It was certainly splendid on your part, and was appreciated not only by myself, but by all the Other rangers. To use Lackey's expression, you were "worth more than any other six men em the job." Any time any of us are in a position to reciprocate for your kindness, please do not hesitate to call upon us. Very truly yours, R. II. Charlton, Forest Supervisor.

A Bad Boy Once upon a time there was a very bad boy. lie boasted how brave he was. One night some' boy friends planned to teach him a lesson. Win n he? came out of his house, they grabbed him and said, ' Tt's kill him!" The boy was scared greein; and he was never boastful any more. They threw him down a chute and loft him to get out the be;st way he could. Chester Collins. NOVEMBER. light, oh, children, Treat me For I'm coming. I'm most here. Don't, say, "How we' hate him, lie's so cold and elienr; Not like; bright October, With its red, red leaves, Like a fairy waving Cold and crimsoa sleeves." Don't say, "Now, I'll surely (let a horrid ' cold,' Now November's got here. With its north wind, bold." Don't say, "No, I care not To go out and play, It's too cold and dreary; In the- house I'll stay." Why. I've lots of joy-times For you all; crisp days, Sunshine, nights f magic Under bright moon-rays, And the greatest brightest,Holiday I bring; Old "Thanksgiving," surely Of all days the King! - Ilehn Chase, in lirooklyn Eagle Junior. AN EASY BUSINESS "What's the matter, old top?" "The pater says I'll have to go into business or he'll cut me off." "Then ge into business." "Rut I don't want to go into busincss." "Aw, g'wan. Try the oyster business. You can close up four months ia the year."

Why the Horse Had No Tail It was on a market day in Ayr, a beautiful little town in the South part of Scotland that a farmer came from Carrick to do his marketing. The way that he had to take led past AHoway Kirk (which in Scotch means church) and AHoway Kirk yard and old, old building that was in a lonely part o the country near the River Doon. He had to cross the River Doon by the Auld Brig (old bridge) and well ho knew that many of his neighbors had seen ghosts in the old church in the "wee sma' hours." While he was in the Inn at Ayr talking with his friends, a fearful storm arose, and it was not until the wizard hour between night and morning that he started on his way homeward toward Carricktown. Just at that time the storm was at its greatest, lightning tore the sky, the winds shrieked and howled, the thunder was furious, and with it all came terrific blasts of hail. Seeing a great light in the church he went in the yard and looked in the tall old Gothic windows. There he saw witches merrily dancing around an old black demon who played furiously on his bagpipe. One witch was younger than the rest and wore a shorter dress or "sark" than the others. Becoming interested in the scene he forgot himself and called out, "Well stepped, Maggy with the short sark!" Then he realized what he had done and spurred his horse at top speed. Now as everyone knows, no evil power can pursue a person beyond the middle of a running stream. Lucky it was, for that poor farmer that the River Doon was so near that night. His horse was a good one but before he reached the middle arch of the Brig the angry hags were close at his heels. One sprang to seize him but was too late. Not quite too late though for the horse's fine tail was not yet past the middle of the bridge and immediately the tail fell off as if it had been blasted by a stroke of lightning. Ever after that fine horse without a tail was a warning to Carrick farmers not to stay too long in the Ayr markets. (This olel Scotch story or legend as they call it is the story which Bobby Burns thought of when he wrote his sjooky poem called Tam O' Shanter. Burns lived near Ayr and his father is buried in the old Kirk yard. The "auld haunted kirk" may still be seen although the old roof has fallen in. The "auld brig" which just saved the farmer's life is still over the River Doon and has been there since 128(5, the year when it was built. The people use the new "brig" though and only keep the old one because of its interesting history and because the delightfully spooky old poem of Burns has made it famous. In a lonely grotto near the KKirkyard a figure of Tain o'Shanter has bee-n erected. Ed.)

A Cat's Soliloquy I am a cat. I have a good home with a nice family of people. I never went to school. My mother taught me a fe wthings that every kitty ought to know. The rest I had to learn myself. I can't speak many words but I understand some things that people say. Often the family thinks I'm asleep when I'm just pretending, and listening to thir talk. They often say things about their neighbors that no cat would say about another. I am not allowed to eat at the table with the family. I don't see why, for I'm sure I keep myself cleaner than some of them do. I spend several hours every day sleeking myself ). I try to keep my fur nice and de an and my whiskers in goou order. I often see the man f the'house go away of a morning without washing his teeth or shining hia shoes or brushing his clothes. The women look pretty in the evening, when company comes, but they let their hair go awfully frowsy in the forenoon. Pople are funny things. W. F. S.