The Syracuse Journal, Volume 22, Number 34, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 19 December 1929 — Page 8

OUR COMIC SECTION [ Events in the Lives of Little Men |J lOIPWI Wllfflll KNOW $g Ir'fefe I »I*l I I & I lucky you are. I diMMy, wait Tut mou6et L~~jtegr AS 019 AS I AM then yov'tt I appreciate mat a swell TIME HAP MEN 7<2U 5 g ■— -J . '•.ii /M |«T ■' ' ’jo *) \ % Jie respcw sib itny (CopnUht. w.n.u.) " . THE FEATHERHEADS Felix Shoots the Most Valuable Bird mwl -» «Mo'r TT v\mV VI MOS lUCK. tja y ectoixwr down a b»rp vet •••'fM qqt of i tffißwi M£)J ? z(Lz I CLAIMS WIVE BIW PlCKlxfc UP /2™ * £. l “ ’J| uunl MV"L\f«® H6SAMeI..-6FF BVPIMS6LF W \ IPT4E CREEK BoTTOMJJOU), W I** 5 < ? 4 °f?T XIS ’" IITS /n WfflßjM|Wsr W7 * s' yroyiXK To RAiSi A CfiVEY-y 'GO DauJP ■•■■ WWSM /OU WELVO ( U»eDEhJ -S\ XGol<we\ AWAO.- X 77 TV / T4E uHr.BOT dUR FCIEMO j / FfttVOUS Z. 1 f U»i. 1 \* / HAS JUST GOT WS FIRST I \ ONE /] JWE J#-/ I QUAIL - FROM T4E POISE/ X. V !!/ //. w> ,? v »M. •'V , , ■ FINNEY OF THE FORCE Page Fanny Brice W kJ - T -> / ".. •/rh PiTCWEQ AM WAT WUSBAPO ’►>> .y WouSAM HOILES tttoM HERE V WAT WALKED OUT ON UIS BY NOU) - 3IST AxJOTUtQ CASE . 00 • . X Ua WOIFS-WATMeS.SMIM AM DAVSEQTiON OpDEft FOIREI T7 HOO. \ Tn lOTS AV HUSBAN'S ARE SUfFERIM/l HiSTEQ / ) \ FCoM VOOMEM'B RGjSy.TS 7 \ FIMNEY/ y VwtSß ftAVS f - fefia j L" ; - L >r v 1\ /cSr I MARie?./ \MY IcAyStHl'StWSiacuKCii y \TboRDARLiM' HE’S MV J \ cQi r < ZB 10 sh & & oM W w Wsh 7_X _Z)I j yJ^HCo^ (flifrWl %*ll I ■ \ c WHt>m Xewspapar Woa I S. IL At«aiiD=i£

VERY HEALTHFUL I &>*: 1 ii«i.iiSin'"~i""f : ■4O •WgLM Bug—Nothing-- lik-e a brisk walk row 1 t’- b' ck, these cool mornings 1

Practically Bumped “I went out west In ’89,” said the New Yorker. “How fur d’yu git?” queried the qilner. “Buffalo,” said the New Yorker. “I went east th’ same year,” said the miner. “Went as fur’s Butte, Mont. Nearly ran into each other, didn’t we?”—New York Times. Common Experience "Ha! Ha!” laughed Mr. Grouch, “here’s an account of a womah who

says she didn’t realize until after the wedding that she had married the wrong man!” “Huh!” snapped his wife, “try and find a wife who doesn’t feel the same way.” Trouble Ahead Mrs. Hiram Browser —Why won’t you join the wives’ union? Husband object? Mrs. Cuddleton—Not at all. Only he says he intends to run the house as an open shop.

THE SYRACUSE JOURNAL

I OUT 1 OF THE ! RUT | (ffi by D. J. WaUh.) WHENEVER there was a party or a new show in town Edith Flaxman knew as a matter | . of course that Loring Black would ask her to go. Sometimes he even omitted the formality of asking, merely remarking that he’d be around for her at a certain time. She was thirty years old and since they had been tn high school Loring Black always bad been her escort. Living so near he was in and out of the house constantly. When they were younger, people had smiled in kindly fashion at their devotion and expected a wedding in a short time, but the expectation had died as the years went on. The rest of their little crowd married and set up their households. Envying the girls she knew were busy with their new furniture and curtains, Edith would have died rather than to admit to any of them that in all this time Loring never once had spoken of marriage. She felt humiliated and at fault. He cared for her she was certain and he took her affection for granted. It was a rut in which they traveled, always on the same line, getting nowhere. Deep in her heart for a long time now had been growing fear that nothing ever would change the situation. Popular, handsome, adored by his mother and two sisters. Loring was far too comfortable to feel the urge to change and establish his-own home. Life was too kind to him. In fact, she was too kind to him. But determine as she might she never was quite able to carry through any plan to break the shackles of habit, to make other friends among the men, to establish her right to win her own place in life. She had been a pretty girl and was now too handsome a to remain unnoticed but, thobgh she fought the fact, no one in her eyes ever measured up to Loring Black, selfish though he might be. I The summer in which she had gone to Europe, bidding him good-by with a heavy heart and smiling lips, resolved to break away from the chains which held her, Loring had gone down to New York to see her off, had filled her cabin with fruit and books and flowers and had held both of her hands at the gangplank. “Hurry home, Edith,” he had begged her. “This is a terrible idea of yours, this trip I Don’t ktfow how I’m going to stand your being away!” They had looked at each other a trifle breathlessly amid the jostling crowd and then the gong had sounded and he had left her. And that hope died out. All summer she had thought of the time when she should go home and when she did return his unaffected joy at seeing her had swept away all her stern resolutions. Loring was Loring and she would take what was given her thankfully, though she hated herself for what she felt was lack of spirit. “Loring is never going to marry," his mother was in the habit of saying. “He is too devoted to his sisters and myself. Why should he marry when he has a home like this—run with no trouble and care to himself?” She said it before him, anxiously when he was younger, proudly as he grew older. She had feared at first that Edith Flaxman would have won him away. Even Loring himself could not have told how he had placidly accepted things as they were with no great desire to change them. When the right time came, he told himself, Edith and he would marry. There was no need of speech, they understood each oth- , er. Ail this time, he insisted to himself when his inner self reproached him, she had been free, he had not tied her down to waiting. Yet if she had not waited he knew he could not have endured it. Edith’s married sister was at times outspoken. “You are a fool to let Loring Black monopolize you all this time,” she told Edith. “He has no right to cut you off from the rest of the world and do nothing more. He loves you and doesn't know it. It Is up to you to bring things to a head. Either marry him or send him away. Or do you expect a miracle to happen?” Flushed and miserable, Edith had flared out at her and silenced her. Bitterly she told herself that no miracle would happen, nothing would ever change things as they had grown to be. She and Loring would grow old and gray in this lifeless companionship. At times she looked unhappy and there were lines on her face. And then Loring Black, hectored by an insistent pain in his side, went to the consulting room of a noted physician, was received by an associated doctor who after an examination and questioning told him to return the next day for the great doctor’s advice after he had studied the

Books “Balanced” After Forty Strenuous Years

French authors who had known the elder Dumas, author of “The Three Musketeers” and “The Count of Monte Cristo,” personally, told me this moving story. When D anas came to Paris he was very poor; his entire fortune consisted of a 20-franc gold piece. But soon he rose to world fame, made immense sums of money and lived like a king. He spent money profusely, he played the stock market and won and lost hundreds of thousands from one day to another. But after forty years of luxury, he became a poor man once more. When he was lying on his deathbed a friend of his visited him. The dying man lay on a simple iron cot in a modest, poverty-stricken little room. The doctor had just left him, and Dumas showed his guest the prescription the doctor had written for him. “I shall have to take this medicine right away,” the sick man said in a weak voice. The f-’e-wl took the prescription and

chart the assistant was even then making out. He was not to worry. Blithely twenty-four hours later Loring Black ran up the same steps and was ushered into the inner office. He sat there, handsome, confident and at ease and Doctor Morehead, regarding him, felt the recurrent pang of sorrow that dogged his life work. “Black,” he said after some few words, “I’m going to give it to you straight from the shoulder. It seems impossible, I know—but you’ve got about six months. There’s nothing to be done. Brace up.” It was a gray and misty day and In the mist and fog Loring Black walked for miles out of the town along the river road. It was a favorite walk in summer of himself and Edith. At the thought of Edith he staggered against a tree and clutching it laid his hot cheek against the rough oak bark. As a lightning flash reveals the entire landscape down to its smallest details this sword which had slashed his inmost soul revealed blindingly all the long years since Edith and he had been in school, the years during which she had waited and he had let her wait All that he had missed. Gray faced, hours later, he went up the walk to his home. There were bright lights tn every window, and as his hand touched the doorknob the door flew open. “Loring!” cried his mother. “Where have you been? We have been so worried —how tired you look! When you’ve had some dinner you had better call up a Doctor Morehead, who has been telephoning here every half hour since the middle of the afternoon—who is he, Loring?” Feverishly at the phone Loring Black hesitated and then gave the number. There*was nothing more that Morehead could tell him that mattered now. Why couldn’t he let him alone in his misery? “Black,” came the doctor’s crisp tones at file other end of the wire. “I don’t know what to say. how to square myself. You must have been going through tortures! That fool assistant of mine had mixed the charts —and I gave you the fate of another man. poor chap! All that ails you is crossed ribs and a slight adhesion —” For the only time in all his strong life Loring Black fainted. ft Let me alone.” he told his mother and hovering sisters when he came to. “I don’t want any dinner. I haven’t got time. I don’t want to rest! I've got to go and see Edith at once!” He was not conscious of walking the few rods to Edith’s front gate, but presently he found himself in the room with her and they were alone and his arms were around her. He held her as though he would never let her go. “if you can ever forgive me for being a blind and selfish idiot.” he begged, “tell me you’ll marry me, Edith! Next week —tomorrow ! We’ve wasted so much time. Let’s drive to the county seat tomorrow and be off on our honeymoon! Right away!” Looking into his ardent eyes, Edith Flaxman knew that the miracle had in some way happened and was not inclined to question fate. He did love her and that was all that mattered. “I’ll do it, Loring.” she told him. Fallacy Mayor Mackey, of Philadelphia, a university man himself, believes that every boy who wishes it should receive a college education. “I hope,” said the mayor in an interview, “to do something for ambitious youth in my administration. 1 am a great believer in the benefits of education and I disagree totally with the illiterate millionaire who once said to me: “ ‘These here fellers with a mint of knowledge can never coin it into good hard cash.’ ” Most Important Thing Three passengers in a big sports car were having a lively argument as to whether they would beat a train at a level crossing. “Don’t get excited,” cried the driver, “I -an do it easily.” “And I say you can’t!” yeded the man a* the side of the driver. “The train’s going a lot faster than we are.” “Well," said the passenger in the rear seat, “I don’t care who wins this race, so long as it’s "uot a dead heat.— Weekly Scotsman. Edison’s Gifts to World Some of Edison’s inventions are electric pen and mimeograph, carbon telephone transmitter, mlcrotasimeter for detection of small changes in temperature, megaphone to magnify sound, phonograph, incandescent lamp and light system, electric valve, wireless telegraphy to and from moving trains, and alkaline storage batteries. Floor Oil An excellent f can be made from the oil drained fg>m your automobile. Let it settle and then strain about one cupful of oil. Mix with onethird cupful of linseed oil and a tablespoonful of kerosene. Use on clean cloths to go over your floor.

started to take it down to the pharmacist. “Wait a second,” Dumas said. “You’H need money, too; medicine costs money, like everything else in the world!” And he opened the drawer of his night cabinet. “I think I still have enough money for medicine.” After a long search, he did find one single 20-franc gold piece in the drawer. That constituted his entire fortune. He gave it to his friend with a sad smile playing on his lips: “Forty years ago I arrived in Paris with 20 francs. What a lucky man I am! Look how much I have played the market! And, as you see, I haven’t lost anything in forty years!”—Ferenc Molnar in Vanity Fair. Only Fool* Ruth In A wise man shuts bis eyes when he looks at a woman’s faults.—Chicago News.

Find Link Connecting South American Rivers Geographers of Europe are greatly Interested in the reports of two German that they have discovered in the wilderness of Paraguay a connecting link between the mighty Amazon and the rivers which wind to the Rio de La Plata. Geographers long had believed that there was a canal or link between the two great rivers of South America, but this is the first definite proof advanced. Tire discovery reveals that one tremendous system of rivers extends from the mouth of the Amazon, at the equator, to Buenos Aires, thousands of miles below on the east coast. A short dis i tance south of the headwaters of the Amazon begin the rivers which flow straight south to Buenos Aires. The new discovery will add 50,000 miles of Inland navigation afforded by the Amazon and its tributaries. Long Folk* Seek Long Bed* Lindbergh, the lone Atlantic flier, has achieved another distinction —he has been admitted into the National Society of Long Fellows. To qualify, one must be at least 6 feet 1 inch tail One Los Angeles man qualified with a height of 8 feet 9 inches. Two years ago the society was started, and it already has 3.000 members, who are striving for longer baths, higher awnings, signs and ceilings, restaurant tables that do not require “long fellows" to hold them up with their knees and beds that do not double them up. Punished for Gluttony Illustrating the truth of some old adage, a tiny mouse, after eating to capacity of popcorn in a Kennewick (Wash.) electric light and power com pany office window, ran around the display form for an hour in an agony of fright, in full view of the amused Saturday night crowds. The mouse had eaten so much popcorn that it was unable to make its exit through the tiny hole which It had entered. Fond Memories Governor of Prison—You will be released tomorrow —have you any special requests to make? Convict—Can I have a photograph taken—the others in my cell would like a group taken as a souvenir before I leave.—Nabelspalter. Zurich. Book** Slow Progre** German professors are writing a book that will take 750 years to complete at the present rate of progress. It is the great standard encyclopedia of the animal kingdom. Russ Bleaching Blue is the finest product of its kind in the world. Every woman who has used it knows this statement to be true.—Adv. Prehistoric Indians of the California J coast ate more than 50 different kinds of birds, judging by numerous bones found in a great refuse pile. Enemies who openly abuse you are not as dangerous as mere acquaint ances who whisper about you. Summer brings leaves of absence and winter brings absence of leaves. The greatest enemy to man is man.

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SCHOOLGIRLS NEED HEALTH

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Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound Lydia E. Pinkham Medicine Co., Lynn. Mass.

Garfield Tea Was Ybur Grandmother's Remedy

For every stomach and intestinal HL This good old-fash-ioned herb home remedy for constipation, stomach ilia and other derangements of the sys-

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Daughter of Mr*. Eva Wood Howe 1006 South H. Street, Danville, HL ’‘l praise Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound for what it has done for my fourteen-year-old daughter as well as for me. It has helped her growth and her nerves and she has a good appetite now and sleeps well. She has gone to school every day since beginning the medicine. I will continue to give it to her at regular intervals and will recommend it to other mothers who have daughters with similar troubles.” —Mrs. Eva Wood Howe*