Richmond Palladium (Daily), Volume 45, Number 231, 7 August 1920 — Page 14
PAGE TWO
THE RICHMOND PALLADIUM. SATURDAY, AUG. 7, 1920.
When the cook saw the mess that Bill Whiskers had made at the ice box by upsetting the egg basket, she exclaimed: ' "Goodness, gracious, me! The grocery boy has dropped a package of eggs on his way upstairs. No he hasn't either, for my ice-box door is open and. someone has been stealing my things!" and then she hurried down stairs to look for the janitor and tell him that sneak thieves had been at her ice chest When Billy heard her go down the 8 1 airs for the Janitor, he went to toe upper flat, for tear tne jani tor would find him if he stayed where he was. Arlving at the upper flat he saw a line of nicely-starched fine linen things a baby's cap, two or three handkerchiefs and a lace tidy. These he chewed up and swallowed, for he liked the taste of starch and they felt Quite like chewing gum in his mouth as he ate them. Then he saw a pan of apples setting outside the door and he ate some of those. While eating he heard the electric bell in the kitchen ring, which scared the life out of him at first, but when he looked in the window and found out what it was, he got over his fright When the girl left the kitchen to . answer the bell, Billy thought he would go in and take a drink from a pan of milk he saw setting on the table. He had nearly finished the milk and his What I Love I love the Bluebirds for what they bring, The glad, good news of early spring. The Robin comes with voice so strong; ne cnirps ana sings all summer long. I love the spring time with skies of blue, All things seem 89 bright and new.
I love the crocuses from their bedj,arger jnan l slgn and sand
witn nowers of wnite and crimson; roA I love the flowers that have a bloom. The tall sunflower with golden bloom, The many vines that run and climb, And the little old, yellow dandlion. I love the wide and narrow streams, The mossy banks of brown and green. The running brooks and rocks and rills. I love the high and woody hills. I love the weeping willow tree, With drooping boughs and cluster leaves, The pine tree stands so tall and true; I love the sky of midnight blue. I love the sparkling meadow brook, And every cool and shady nook. I love the sunshine overhead. The lovely clouds of white and red. I love each kind of bird that sings. That fills the air with music rings; t love the Red Bird and the Kite, The little Squeaking Owl that hoots at night. God has created all things good. The birds and flowers and shady woods, The many . joys this world does bring, love all kinds of lovely things. Betty Estelle.
whiskers were all wet from' being In the pan, when he heard a scream and, looking up, he saw the girl standing in the doorway, screaming -Fire ! Police! Murderf "What a goose that girl Is," thought Billy, "to make such a racket; she will have the patrol here and four or five policemen if she doesn't shut up. Guess I will run into her and butt her through the hall and down the front stairs." Suiting the action to the thought, he started for her, but she fled down the hall and ran into a room,
closing the door after her. As she closed that door, the janitor opened the front door, which was directly opposite, and Billy getting there at just that time gave the janitor the butt and sent him sprawling on the hall floor. Before he could get up, Billy ran back through the hall to escape down tlys back stairs, and as he ran he could hear the girl calling: "Fire! Police! Murder!" out of the window at the top of her voice. Billy hurried down the outside stairs as fast as he could, but there were so many turns they made him dizzy, and as he reached the last flight he heard the janitor above him call to someone in the yard not to let that confounded goat escape through the back gate. Billy laughed to himself, "I would like to see anyone stop me," when all unexpectedly, someone hit him on the head with a club as he made the last turn in the stairs and there before him were three policemen in a line stopping his way out. He butted and kicked and balked, but to no use; they clubbed him until he was almost senseless and then slipped a rope around his neck and dragged him to the patrol wagon that was waiting outside the gate, and with many boosts and pushes they at last succeeded in getting him into the wagon. Ab they drove down the street at i break-neck speed. Billy vowed to 1 himself that if he ever got away
from the police, that he would go deadliest poisons on the market, j and if you go to the biggest cirback and butt that girl into the, but you'll pull through, son, so goicus on earth you will see Johannes
middle of next week for screaming, "Fire! Police! Murder!" until she had brought the patrol wagon. Did Billy stay long at the police station? Next week's story tells. Copyright by the Saalfield Publishing Co., Akron, Ohio. For Girls to Make Homecraft BLOCK PRINTING FOR CAMP Carolyn Sherwln Bailey Summer curtains, camp pillows, smocks and table linens, all decorated with the fascinating block printing in June colors! Why not, since the girl-who-docs-thinga may learn this craft? The block is of soft wood, a trifle; '"r.T. .v"c "l a: uunumg oiocks win qo. uraw a : 1 . . - .... . pattern or a simple 1 lower, leat, or conventional ornament on heavy tracing paper, paste it to the block and cut out the background around the pattern with a sharp pen knife. Clamp the block down to yourj working table while you do the ; carving. Be very careful to keep the edges of the design sharp, and do not chip the wood. Dyes or oil colors are the ones to Ilea flila omva tha nrotnaat raaiiHc Squeeze the paint from the tube into a saucer and mix it with tur pentine to the consistency of cream. Add a few drops of mucilage. Fold several thicknesses of soft, old cloth and lay it in the saucer, letting it soak up the color to make a pad for your printing. The soaking and even spreading of color on this pad will help much with the success of your printing. The block, before printing on any material, should be pressed several times on the color pad and then wiped off with a cloth in order to fill up the pores of the wood and be in good working condition. Unbleached muslin, pongee silk, cheese cloth, denim and coarse linen are excellent materials for block printing. Stretch the cloth tightly and smoothly on a board, after marking it with basting thread or pins to show you where the design is to be printed. Press the block on the pad and then press the pad, face down, on the cloth, hammering it with a small wooden mallet, if you want the color deep,
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Be very careful to print evenly,
each design no lighter or darker than the one before. Your finished border on tho bungalow curtains, on your smock, or on a couch . cover will rival the expensive block printing in the shops if you do it carefully. ADVENTURES IN AN OLD HAUNTED HOUSE CHAPTER III Tom sprang out of bed; his automatic clutched in his hand; his face pale but determined; but all was still, not a sound could his strained ears catch. He muttered to himself: "Ghosts or no ghosts, I'll tear this house down as soon as I possibly can, to find them." He dropped into his grandfather's arm chair, his gun still in his hand, to watch, but just as dawn peeped over the horizon he grew drowsy, .and fell asleep, with his head on his desk. Lincoln called Tom next morning as he wanted to go to work. Tom confided his night's experience to Lincoln and both sat down to breakfast. Tom drank his usual cup of coffee. (Lincoln never drank it). As soon as Tom drank the coffee he felt nausea creeping on him, then dizziness, and finally, everything turned black before him, and that was all he remembered until weeks later, when he found himself in a white bed, with a nurse and a doctor looking at him; and he did not I.ow where he was. He tried to sit up, but tie nurse pushed him gently back, then he said in a puzzled tone: "Where am I? and what's happened?" The nurse smiled and said gently "You're at King's hospital, and you were very sick when your friend, Mr. Moore, brought you here. You were at Death's gate." "Good Lord!" exploded Tom, "at Death's gate! What the thunderation happened to me? oh, it was the coffee?" "Yes, it was the coffee," said the gruff old doctor, "it was one of the: to sleep, now." But Tom grew more puzzled, and j said slowly: "Deadly poison in' my coffee how in the deuce did it get there? did Lincoln yes, he made the coffee, he don't drink! coffee says it's not good for your' brain." And Tom's brows drew to-! gether, then it all came back. The! loss of his ring, the woman's voice and the poisoned coffee. Could I Lincoln have been playing him j false? Yet, Lincoln had brought him to the hospital and looked after him and his affairs. He fell into a feverish sleep, over his thoughts. After awhile, Tom began to mend and grew better, and, finally told Lincoln that Tom could go home with him (for Tom was now convinced of Lincoln's honesty). They met Bruce Arnold, an old college chum of their's, and took him home with them. They related all of Tom's mysterious experiences, and Bruce showed, a strong desire to see the "Haunted House," so they told him he could, and that he would hear all the spooks he ever would care to hear. The three sat up late into the night telling ghost stories and smoking their cigarettes, until Bruce said he was sleepy and wanted to go to bed, and said he wanted to sleep with Tom so he could ' hear the ghosts.' All went well, and Tom and Bruce fell asleep (after telling ex periences of their college days) not t0. be awakened through the night with hearing any noises, and both awakened early next morning. Bruce declared they dreamed about the "spirits," and they had heard nothing; but Tom and Lincoln told him to wait until the 'spooks' were ready to 'show off.' Bruce laughed and said he would stay one more night, and then, perhaps, the 'ghosts' would come again. The day passed merrily, with a small party of club men, who came to see how Tom was. Then it was night again, and Tom and Bruce retired early, leaving Lincoln smoking a cigaretfe on the veranda. They both fell asleep immediately. When in the still of
the night, they were awakened by a Cause an part of our opponent's shotin theroom.-Thelmal.Darby. body Detween the knees and elTo be continued.J bows t0 touch the ground( and you ' win. You must not relinquish your EDITOR'S NOTE: The subject hand grips. A belt of rope around of this story has a way of changing, the right leg gives a better grip Itself. We expect it will decide to , and is the way Icelanders rquip for keep this name to the end of the Glima. Glima is a real test of story. It is the same story, all ', strength and skill as well as an inright, but likes to wear a different! teresting sport. Boys' and Girls'
hat, sometimes,
Little William The road was very dusty, and oh, how hot the sun was A little boy was trudging along the road, stopping now and then to rest. He was, perhaps, about eight or nine
years old. His face was honestlooking and he had large, wistful, brown eyes. "My, how I wish there would be a wagon come along and give me a ride to the next town," he said. "Oh, how hungry I am!" Just as his thoughts were away on the orphans' home he had just left, a wagon stopped and a kind looking farmer hollowed out and asked, "Do you want a ride, son?" "Sure I do," said the little boy, "where are you going?" "I'm going home. I live one-half mile from a little village called Bloomsburg. What is your name, son, and where did you come from?" "Oh, my name is William Gayle and I came from the orphans' home. I ran off. I want to get a job and work. Do you know of anybody that would like to have a little boy?" "No, I don't, son; maybe I could find a little work for you to do on my farm. Would you like to work for me?" "Oh, yes, sir; I would love to," said poor little William. What is your name?" "Oh, yes," said the farmer, "my name is George Higgins. i I Circus Clouinincfs GLIMA Emtnett D. Angell Suppose three or four roughnecks tackled you on a dark street what would you do? If trained in the school that made Jack Dempsey or Georges S. Carpentier famous, you would use your fists in the approved American fashion. If a subject of the Mikado, Jiu-jitsu would be your method of self-defense. The Icelander protects himself with Glima Josef sson demonstrate his national sport in a free-for-all brawl that skins any rough and tumble fight you have ever seen. Glima is the Icelandic method of individual battling. And it's some method! Three husky fellows rush on Josefsson from different side He throws them helplessly to the floor. Men with revolvers and knives are disarmed. A a grand climax to his act, he withstands the combined assault of seven men. It Is some battle, end for action has a bucksaw lashed to the mast. Josefsson is Iceland's champion in Glima, and he is so fond of the sport that he introduced it to Eu rope and had it accepted as one of the standard contests in the Olym pic games. He ought to know. He is Ice land's greatest exponent. And in England, ne aeteated many jiujitsu experts, and among the van quished were many of Great Britain's famous wrestlers. Try Glima. Grasp your opponent's belt with your right hand with your left his trousers below the pocket. He has the same hold
l Newspaper Service.
So, little William stayed with Farmer Higgins. And George Higgins treated William just like his own boy. Mr. Higgins' wife, Ellen Higgins, was very kind to William, too. They bought him clothes, and when September came, William started to school, just like other boys and girls. He learned to be good and kind, and not to be selfish with his playfellows. Also, William learned to ride, and Farmer Higgins bought William a little spirited pony. William was very proud of his little pony, and he named him "Doodles." His friend had a pony, and they often went riding around the mountains, for they lived at the foot of a mountain. William loved the woods and mountains, and he often watched the sun set in the west. First, the sun would reflect a bright pink and then it would fade into a very light pink, and when the sun went down William would write in his diary and describe the colors in the sky every night. And now, dear children, who read this story, try and be kind like William, for when he is a man and marries he will tell his children all about bis life in the orphans' Home and tell how kind and loving Mr. and Mrs. Higgins have been to him. Ruth Tutrow, age 14, grade 6, Milton school. Honorable Mention in the Junior Palladium StoryWriting Contest.
There once was a man very daring. Who walked when the sun was quite glaring. But his burns gave him pain, And he said, "Till it rain. Indeed I'll go no more a-faring!" sPencil OwiJler Can You Change This Cradle Into An Igyfuan Qirl ? -W.-j Off Answer next week. Answer to last week's Pencil Twister.
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