The Syracuse Journal, Volume 23, Number 51, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 16 April 1931 — Page 3

The Plains of Abraham By James Oliver Curwood tgby Doubleday Doran CO-, Inc. W.vu Service. I■T • '

THE STORY L With his English wife. Catherine. and MRi J<. n.s. Henry Bul.iin, French settler in Canada in 1749, ’cultivate* a farm adjacent ••to the Tunteur selßtseurle. As the story opens the Bulams are returning from a visit jto the Tonteurs. •Catherine’s wandering brother. Hepslbah. meets them with presents for the family To Jeema he gives a pistol. bidding him perfect 'himself- in marksmanship Hepsibah fears for the safety of th® Rujai’n* in their isolated position. deems fights with Paul Tache. cousin of Toinette Tonteur.- whom they both adore; Next day deems calls at the Tonteur h' tne and apol .gixejtfor brawling ’ The Tonteur* go t* Quebec. Four , years pass • War between Britain and France flame" Jeems returns from a hunt to find his home burned and his father and m>>t l;» r slam.

CHAPTER V—Continued —lo—- — n< Hie light. without n >..!» <-r cry. Knelt beside Ma*. 11,. ..poke I ftithor’s mim«». yet knew t! r.i ati-wi would from th>> IffeleM He repeated it In an v.x. ■■ xv.it ■> [ ■ t ''- ■ A"! ■'! . » t •■ - ■ :• T‘ • .'t : i "thing iifircvealed.; his father dear!, his wNie lips twitted, h’s I imis «■;. •:< |;r<| :sf I s roh-. !• •• ~f his head imk.-l atol l-’..-l.t.g front the S. itlpl.iig knife. ' JiM'flH slumpi-d down. He may h.ne spoken ■.■u-.iin IF may ) fur soldo <l. But the tlflfl 2 !’• e death that Was creep r.g ov. r him. Its darkloss and vastness, hid him from himself. lie remain.xl besid-. his father. Jis mot unless and ?s st Th <>•'..l st :t time, he crept to the <!• ad • man. He muzzled the hafid- that were growing' <‘oht He .licked .Teems’ face where ■ <|.-r. .Then.- he wps motionless again, tils -eye* seeking about Hm like balls of living flame. Death w*» In the air. He was breathing it. He was hearing It At last, irresistibly Impelled to answer th*- spirit of death, he sat buck on Ids hnuhcT|es and howled. It was not odd s howl any rilore than It » king tn hl* father a few moment*' before. ft was n g’h..st|y sound that seemed to quiet ♦ veil the whispering of the leaves, an unearthly and shivering cry that sent S over t! • ■ <'• ,<fl g. .wi’h grb f for company. . It was.tlds w !d«,h brought -Teems out of the depths hito whir'll Te had fallen. He raised his head and saw Ids father •gain, and swayed to Ids feet,' He he-' gun, seeking. ’Close .by. near the pile «.f app>e« which, she bud helped him g .flfl er from tuidej their tr»- - <»n the slope. he found his mother. She. too. IIV vv ith be- f. : e tofl 1 e -!.v The little that 'was left of )i.-r unbound hair lay scattered on the earth. Her glorious l.eanty was gone, Starlight, 'caressIng her gently revo.iied to her hoy the ThUs.mjness of tier end. There, over per Iw.dy. .Teems’ heart broke. Odd guarded f.ifll.fuliv. listening to a grief that twisted at' his brute soul. Then fell, a greater silence. Through long hours the burning logs settles! down Into flattened musses of dying embers. The darkness came which pre- , e<b s the day. and after that. dawn r..~e to hi* blasted World. Jle was no linger a youth hut’s living thing nged by an eternity that had passed. It was Odd who led him in the quest for He; - bah 'Adams. He sought like one half blind And yet 2. He MW the trampled grass, the moccasin beaten earth nt the spring, a hatchet last. In the night, and on the hatchet an English name. But he did not find hix unde. In the same gray dawn, stirring with the wings y'f birds and the play of squirrels among the trees, he set. out for '■•‘ositenr manor.

lb’ carried the hatchet,, clutchlnf It a< if the wood hl* fiflgera’gripped held life which might ••«<■«{■* him. liecause of this hatchet there gA*w in him a Slow ami terrible thought that had the strength of a chain, !.'-<<• weapon. with Its short hickory handle. Its worn Iron blade, its battered head, might have been flesh and blood capable of receiving pain «>r <>f gh i a secret, so tenacious was the hold-of. his hand about it. But he did m>t tsw the iron or wood. He jsnw otdy the name which told him that the English had come with theifr Indians, or had sent them, as his uncle had so often said they Would. The English. Kot the French. The English. And he held the hatehet as If it were an English throat. But he was not thinking that. The part of him conscious of the act was working unknown to the faculties which made him move and see. His thoughts were Imprisoned within stone walls, and around these walls they beat and trampled themselves, always alike, telling him the same things, until their repetition became a droning in his brain. His mother was dead—back there. His father was dead. Indians with English hatchets had killed them, and he must carry the word to Tonteur. Thought which had been wrecked •nd beaten until now possessed him with a flame behind it that began to bum fiercely but which seemed to give no heat or excitement to his flesh. Only his eyes changed, until they were those of a savage, flinty In their hardness and without depth in which one might read his emotions. His face was white and passionless, with lines caught and etched upon it as if in

bloodless stone. He looked at’ the hatchet again, and Odd heard the gasp which came from his lips. The hatchet was a voice telling him things and gloating in the story it had to teh. It made him think more clearly and pressed on him an urge for caution. As he drew nearer to Tonteau manor, the Instincts of self-preserva-tion awoke in him. They did not make him leave the open trail or travel less iwiftly:. but his senses became keener, and unconsciously he began to prepare himself for the physical act of vengeance. To reach Tonteur was the first obligation in the performance of this act. Tonteur still had a few men who had not gone with Dleskau. and as •Teems recalled the flripg of guns, a picture painted ‘itseif before his eyes. The murderers of bis father ahd mother had swung eastward from Forbidden valley, and the seigneur, warned by Hepslbah's fire, had met them with loaded muskets. He had faith in Tonk tcur and did not question what had ” happened In the bottom lands. Before this no doubt had crossed his mind as to Hepsibah’s fate. The English hatchets had caught him, somewhere, or lie would «have come during the long night when he and Odd had watched alone with death. But now a forlorn and scarcely living hope begun to rise in his breast as he came to ( Tonteur** bill —an unreasoning thought that Something might have driven his i •S® A 1 J Aw it Made Him Think More Clearly • and Pressed on Him an Urge for Caution. Ernie Hi-psibali to. the Richelieu, a . ’ hope that, after, lighting his signal fire, he h id liurrie'l to the manor with i tbe expectation of finding.hi* people : there. HH father must -have- seen | Hepsihali's warning • across Forbld.den valley, and had waited, disbelieving, while death traveled vyith the shade* of night through the lowlands. He might see llepstbah, in a moment, coming over the hill. . . . j Hepsibab. and the baron, and men , With C Hl'. I’vt-n odd seeme<] to be expecting I tbi* a* they sped tlirimg!i the. la.-t • pen and climbed the chestnut ridge, i Beyond vvA-re the thick edging of crimson sumac, a pii'th breaking through : It, andjhe knob the hill where theyi had alway* paused to gaze over the -.v flo! Win!, bid !•••<’□. the king of Erance to the stalwart vassal Tonteur. .1..-!!;s emerged *t this point, and ■ the spark' which hsid grown in his breast was engulfed by sudden blackness: : There wa* no longer a Tonteur J irtanbr. .There Wefre no buildings but' ..re, ■!!•- great manor house was i g>-ne. T|ie !oo|dioled chtireh was gone, i The farmers’ cottages beyond the [ Meadow* and ■ fields Were gone. All j that remained was,the stone gristmill, i with the big wind vvdie,d turning slowly at the top of it and making a whining sound that came to him faintly through the distance. deems, looking down, saw Tn the drift smoke a shroud-that covered death. For the first time be forgot his father and mother. He thought of some one he had known and long lime ago. Toinette. As hg had stood at the edge of the Big forest seeking for a ‘figure that n 2'fl have-bev<ti bls.mother’s, he now quested for one that might be Toinettes. But the same hope was not in his breast, nor the same fear. Certainty had taken their place. Toinette was dead, despoiled of her beauty and her life as his mother had been. A

Writer Shows Franklin Firm Believer in God

How Benjamin Franklin, “erroneously- sup|H»sv>i by man to he an <r." rolled the attention <’f the Constitutional invention to the fact that small progress had been made after four or five week* because "we t.ot hitherto once thought of humbly :<pplxiug t<> tb« Father of Light to illumine our understanding*.'" I* polnteil out by Representative JaSM* M. Beyk. former solicitor general of the United States, in his standard work on “The Constitution of the United State*. Yesterday. Today and 'Tomorrow.” Mr Beck quotes'Franklin as asking hi* colleagues in the convention. “Do we imagine that we no longer need his assistance?” And Franklin pronounced this conviction: “That God governs In'the affairs of men. And if a sparrow cannot fall to the ground without his notice, is It probable that an empire can rise without his aid? Franklin urged that “henceforth prayer* imploring the assistance of heaven, and it* blessings on our deliberations, be held In this assembly every morning, before we proceed to business." An “impious" speech by Alexander Hamilton Is also referred' to by Mr.

Wiu Father A prosperous farmer, replying to a comment on. the amount of money he was spending to put his son through college, said: “Yes, it does take a lot of money; but Fd rather leave my money in my boy than to him I"—Exchange.

fury triumphed over him that was as . b possessive in its effect as the color which blazed about him in the crim- I son bush. It had been growing in him I since the moment lie knelt at his fa- | ther’s side; it had strained at the ■ bounds of his grief when he found his mother; it had filled him with mad- J ness, still unformed in his brain, when he covered their faces in the early dawn. Now he knew why he gripped the English hatchet so tightly. He ! wanted to kill. His eyes turned from the smoke-filled valley of the Riche- , lieu to the south where Champlain lay 1 gleaming in the sun miles avvgy, and ; the hand which held the hatchet trembled in its new-born yearning for the life blood of a people whom he hated from this day and hour. ’ He was vaguely conscious of the whine of the mill wheel as he went . down into the valley. He did not feel fear or the necessity for concealing his movement, for death would not • trouble Itself to return to a desolation so complete. But the wheel, as he drew nearer, touched the stillness, with a note which seemed to ride with strange insistence over the solitude. as if calling to some one. It be- j came less a thing of iron and wood, that was crying in its hunger for oil. and more a voice which demanded his attention. It seemed to him that suddenly he caught what it was saying: “the English beast—the little English beast.”—repeating those words until they- became a rhythm without a break in their monotony except’when a capful of wind set the wheel going faster. It was as if a thought in his brain had’ been stolen from him. And what it expressed was true. He was the English beast, coming as Madame Tonteur had predicted. Toinette had been right. Fiends with white skins, who were of his blood, bad sent their l .hatv he’t killers'to pr<w» it. And like ' a lone ghost he was left to see it all. j The mill wheel kfiew and. even in moI :. secured to SS the I power to tell him so. , i With stubborn fortitude he faced the gehenna through which he knew he | mu<t’ pass before he could turn south I to find hts vengeance with I»ie-kau. ! Toinette belonged to him now as much I :>< bis mother, and It was for her he j began to search. ■ In ditih Which had run almost • * •• the • :v< < of the I nop holed church., he stumbled on a body. It had fallen among tall grass and weed* and had remained hidden there. It wore a Mohawk war tuft, and in one of its stiffened hands was another "| English' hatchet like the one Jeems I >d. A- dp was at the warrior’s*belt. I and for a moment Jeems turned sick. I It was a young girl’s scalp, days old. As he advanced, he could see there had been an alarm and a little fighting. There was old Jean de Lauzon, the cure, doubled up like a jackknife. Jialf dressed and with a battered old flintlock under him. lie bad fired the gun and was running for the fortressed church when a bullet had caught him between his thin shoulder blades. Jeems stood over him long enough to make notes of these things. He saw several more dark blotches on j. /the ground quite near to where the j thick oaken door to the church had- ’ . t-n. There were Juchereau . and Louis Hebert, both well along in years, and not- far from them were their wives. Raiidot was a fifth. He-had been .a slow-witted lad. and now lie looked like a clown who had died with a grin on his face. These people had lived- nearest to the church. The I others hml been too far away to an- | svver the alarm quickly, but the result had been the same. Some'had come to meet their death. Others had waited for it. Between this group 'and the smoldering pile that had been the manor, a lone figure lay on the ground. Jwths went to it slowly. The spravvledout form was Tonteur. Unlike the others, the ballon was fully dressed. He undoubtedly had been arme«l when rushed forth from the house, but nothing, was left in his hands but the clods of earth which he had seized in a finM agony. A cry broke from Jeems. He had loved Tonteur. The "seigneur had been the one connecting link between his older ybars and the dreams of his childhood, and it was because of him that he had never quite seemed to %se Toinette, He crossed the -dead man’s hands upon his breast and loosened the earth from his fin-’ ger'-'.j He could feel Toinette at hl* side, and for a brief interval the sickness in his head and body overcome him so that he could not see Tonteur at all. But he could hear Toinette ! sobbing- . >(TO BE CONTINUED )

Beck. <>n the authority of Jonathan Dayton, the youngest member of the convention. He records that Hamilton i “was confidently of opinion that they were competent to transact the bust, ness which had been intrusted to their care—that they were equal to every ' exigency which might occur, and concluded by saying, that therefore he did i not see the necessity of calling In for- j elgn aid.” Washington fixed *his eye on Hamilton with a mixture of sur- ! prise and Indignation while he uttered tlxis impertinent and impious speech. —Washington Star. Hoarding Food The habit of burying food Is one that several wildz«nfmals possess. It is evidently a trait handed down from i the time when England was in a grip 1 of continual Ice. At that time the hunter ate all he could, then buried the rest, returning to It when hungry. Nowadays the weasel will kill far more than it can eat. and it still buries the surplus, but. unlike its ancestors. It does not return to the store, as there Is plenty of fresh food to be obtained. —London Tlt-lts. Tribute to Washington A translation of the Greek inscription on the Parthenon stone in the Washington monument is: “George Washington, the hero, the citizen of the new add illustrious liberty: The land of Themistocles, and Pericles—the mother of "ancient liberty—sends this ancient stone as a testimony of honor and admiration from ! the Parthenon.”

THE SYRVCrSE JOURNAL.

Improved Uniform International Sunday School ’ Lesson ’ (B» REV. P. B. FITZWATER. D. D.. Member of Faculty Moody Bible Institute x of Chicago.) f (©, 1931, Western Newspaper Union.) Lesson for April 19 THE RICH MAN AND LAZARUS LESSON TEXT —Luke 16:19-31. GOLDEN TEXT—And yet I say unto you. That even Solomon tn all his ■ glory was not arrayed Hke one of these. PRIMARY TOPlC—Jesus Teaches Sharing. JUNIOR TOPlC—Jesus Teaches Sharing. INTERMEDIATE AND SENIOR TOP-IC-—The Curse of Selfishness. Yt’f>G PEOPLE AND ADULT TOPlC—Kight and Wrong I’svs of Wealth. In this lesson we are afforded aj|*ok Into two worlds where we see es/tremes of character and conditions. In this present world we see a rich num reveling in luxury and a pm»r tyan in sore affliction, begging at the rich man’s gate. In the other world we see the same men with reversed position* i —the. erstwhile beggar enjoying the richest blessings of heaven while the former rich man suffers the torments of hell. These lives were’ Intended to be representative. The rich man descends from the highest pinnacle of worldly enjoyment to the depths of endless misery. The beggar ascends from* utter wretchedness and misery to the loftiest heights of blessing. I; Contrasted Lives (tv. 19-21). L The rich man (v. I'd). Ht- .\ed In a ■lude<Lfrora the common people. He was clothed in costly raiment. He fed upon the richest food that could be provided. It should be borne in mind that this iimh is not accused <»f having unlawfully gaini'd his riches. His sin was selfishly to indulge his.appetites without consideration of others. 2. The beggar (vv. 2i>. 21). He was laid at the rich man’s.gate in the hope of getting at least the eruitdis fro' his tjjble. No consideration was given bin by the ricli man. and even the dogs of the street were more kind tohiim. Lazarus means “God is a help," intli'-ating that a godly life showed through his poverty. Worldly condition is no sure test of a man's state- in the sight of Goth Rich ? men are not all wicked and selfish, neither.are all poor men godly. 11. Contrasted Deaths and Burials (v. 22). 1. The beggar. . He was found dead and his body hurried off to a pauper’s grave. No notice was taken of it by the world, but that he was no longer to be seen at the gate of the rich man. 2. The rich man. He also died. lli< gold codld not bribe the messenger of death. Doubtless a costly funeral was held. 111. Tne Contrasted Destinies (vv. 22. 23). 1. The beggar. He was at once carried by the angels into Abraham’s bosom. The,souls, of believers are especially cared for at the hour of death. They go immediately to be with the Lord. Destinies are determined in this life. 2. The rich man. Though he had an elaborate burial, he lifteil up his eyes in hell “being in torments." ■ The positions of these men are now reversed —the poor man is in the company of made perfeef.” and the rich man is stripped of his purple and fine linen .and cast into hell. j IV. The Reality and Fixedness of Life Beyond the Grave (vv. 24-31). 1. The cry for mercy (v. 24). Dives, which is tne Latin name for "rich man,” was now wilting to claim relationship to Abraham. He is keenly conscious.-and the appetites which con-, trolled hijn while on earth were still with him. Doubtless a part of the torment of hell will be the cravings of appetite and lust, with no means of their gratification, 2. Abraham’s reply (v. 25). This reply cast the matter back upon the man's memory. He said: “Son, remember.” The lashings of a guilty conscience will t>e most real in hell. The I one supreme thing, to remember will be the cause which led to the awful destiny. Then. too. It will be remembered that the doom is just. 3. The fixedness- of life beyond the grave (v. 20). V Human destiny is fixed by the •choices made during the earthly life. When one passes out of this life he enters into a state and condition which . is un<-hangeable. 4. God's Word the all -sufficient light (xv. 27 31). Dixes n-i’.jp '-d tint Lazarus go on an errand of mercy to his brethren. He regarded the testimony of a spirit of more value than the Word of God. Many today are more willing to trust the rappings of a ghost than the sure j Word of GodL Abraham declared that I Gdd's Word is sufficient—that those who reject Moses and the prophets j would not repent though visited hy one who had risen from - the dead. The greatest miracles will not affect the heart* of men who reject the Bihle. Lost men will learn too late the value i of the sonl. Glory in Something j Let us beware of Ihsing our en- ’ thusiasm. Let us ever glory In sorne- ! thing, and strive to retain our admiration for all that would ennoble and our Interest in al! that would enrich and beeautify our life.—-Phillip* Brook*. The Cup of Suffering The cup of suffering was the cup which the Father gave him to drink, and k was for this reason he gave it It was that sinners might feel sure that redeeming love was the last reality in the universe.—James Denny. God** Patience Do not be in a hurry, but be diligent Enter into the sublime patience of the Lord. Be charitable in view of IL God can afford to wait; why cannot we. since we have him to fall back . upon? —George Macdonald..

EYELET EMBROIDERY MAKES PRETTY FASHIONS PRETTIER

K'YELET embroidery is doing a lot i > a-* toward making pretty spring and > summer fashions prettier. One cannot go far along the highway* and by- i ways of the present mode without en- ! countering eyelet effects in some form 1 : or another. % ’ j Even our kid shoes are being de- 1 slgnfully perforated this season. Our I gloves, too, if you please, indulge in fanciful cutout effects. The fad even extends to pocketbooks and belts, not j forgetting to mention some of our ’ most flattering chapeaux which are eyeleted in decorative ways. Never such dainty blouses made of sheerest eyelet-embroidered batiste as

I rJfl liSwSk JlEla bl K ; B Ml \ ' Ki IsSi • are being worn at this very, moment with milady's spring jacket suit. These . are made either to tuck in or wear < over the skirt and the newest item on Wn*/ j the boards is the long tunic of hand- g-rW 1 some eyelet-embroidered fabric. L Sometimes it’s the entire frock which

' Is eyelet-worked, which is especially ' true of some of the loveliest gowns deI signed for afternoon and evening wear. Then again a compromise is made ' I tn that the afternoon frock is trimmed I with the eyelet ‘embroidery in ways i as charming as the picture sets forth. . 1 I This adorable dress is of black chiffon, ’ witii a band of sheer pale pink eye-let-embroidered batiste outlining the sleeves and the blouse hemline. The eyeleted feature is further played up i in that the top part of the sleeves is of black eyelet-embroidered chiffon. » The hat which tops this lovely twopiece. dress is a stunning black bakou. i It exploits the new bandeau idea exI pressed in this instance in terms of . : just enough of pink velvet ribbon to ■ , give it a note of color. | I Gorgeous Printed Chiffons. To select the right print for the i right occasion is one of the problems ; wliiCh confronts- the woman of fashion j

A/* MK-. J ■ ' I /J' iI 1 iS'IL IIT 11 I' ' W ’ - ‘I ‘ y’• ’>• ' I 1 For Gala Nights and SHKkSF A //A I t Festive Scenes ______

today. Which is not so difficulty task after all, seeing that this season's prints are so definitely typed to environment That is, the distinction between sprightly and practical prints for active daytime wear and exotic prints whose mission it Is to lend a glamorous beauty to festive nights and formal afternoons, is apparent at a glance. In the latter class Paris couturiers are featuring among other lovely types, chiffons printed with cabbage-

Hints of the Mode of Interest to Women

Circular flounces are being used to ■ finish short sleeves in dresses for spring. In a riot of colors or set against a background of black, gray stands out with tremendous distinction. WhiCh perhaps is the reason that it is being • worn by the smartest women. Frequently there is an accent of white : or black. Gray hats, gray frocks, gray suits and gray tweed coats are shown oy the most exclusive shops.

size floWers. Sometimes as many as twelve colors appear in the same print. It is needless to say that these gorgeous prints carry a message distinctly apart from the newest daytime effects which make a feature of monotone motifs printed in striking contrast against their background, favorite alliances being navy with gray or with also brown with eggshell. In the chic daytime prints red with white is also an outstanding combination while the inevitable black-and white theme is as popular as ever. For gala nights beneath a silvery moon, the Patou dress of printed chis- 1 son pictured emphasizes the beguiling i

Adorable Dresi in Black Chiffon. grace of flowery sheer weaves such as give colorful accent to the evening mode. The skirt is animated by panel* of the fabric draped spirally, ending at one side in a short train The scarf *ollar develope* a cape’effect a.t the back. However, one chiffon doesn't make a summer, not by any means, with so many romantic events coming on which demand of fashion’s fair followers- that they, look their loveliest. There are some spring months to be considered, too. before summer arrives, during which there’s nothing so apropos for dressup occasions as feminine fluttery chiffon. . It adds to the lure of these “five o’clock" dresses of printed chiffon, several of which belong in every wellappointed wardrobe, that they are so

adorably styled with all sorts of.frill} feminine touches. Such intriguing de tails as siiort puff sleeves, capelets galore and flounces, peplums and such contrive to achieve beguiling silhouettes. A very special touch of artistry is the presence of a bit of velvet ribbon somewhere about, perhaps tied simply around the high waistline or a smattering of little bows i nestled here and there. V CHERIE NICHOLAS. (©. 1931. Western Newspaper Unloft.V

What could be more fairy-like ot more in the* spirit of youth than a debutante evening frock of white tulle with wide bands made of tiny silver sequins each one stitched on by hantj: It is so lovely it seems unreal. Flowers are again being worn on evening gowns. If you want to refurbish your evening frock sew a garland of gardenias around the decolletage. These are called “lei" necklaces, after the Hawaiian, garlands.

Qke KITCHEN CABINET

“Our spectacular opportunities for courage may be few or non* at all. Our commonplace opportunities for courage start when w* wake and last until we go to sleep. The courage of the commonplace is greater than the courage of the crisis." WHEN ENTERTAINING For the hostess wliq must prepar* and serve everything, such dishes as

may be prepared the day before will save her; strength, good looks and enjoyment of her guests. Every hostess enjoys serving something a little out of the ordinary, and by observing the dainty things in homes

s

' and shops she may make her entertainments very much worth while. ■ There can be nothing more gratifying I to a hostess than to give pleasure to her friends. One can do marvelous things with just a pickle. Cut into the thinnest ! of slices, spread in.,the form of a fan j on a tasty sandwich it not only gari nishes it but adds an appetizer as well. , Slice inch-sized pickles into very thin slices, place on open-faced sandwiches That have been spread with i cream cheese. Put one slice in the center of rounds, on the tiny slice place a spot of whipped cream or i cheese mixed with cream and dust with cayenne or paprika. If fingeri length sandwiches are. used, place the I round pickle at the end and at the other end a spot the size of a quarter ' of finely, shredded carrot. " A Man’s Salad.—Prepare a half dozen hard cooked eggs by cutting into j halves and removing the yolks, mash ■ the yolks with butter, add mustard, salt i and cayenne and refill the halves of i egg white. Arrange bn lettuce and I cover with a sour cream dressing or a , mayonnaise with piety of sour cream added. If liked shredded onion may be sprinkled over the lettuce before i placing the eggs. Here.is another that the men like; Take one head of lettuce, three or four green onions or a slice of ber--1 muda onion finely minced, three or I four slices of sweet or sour pickle and j one hard cooked egg. Use the lettuce in nests on the salad plate, shred the coarser part and mix. with onions, pickles, and finely chopped egg. Serve with french dressing. (©. 1931, Western Nexvspaper Union.) Cold Cream Long Popular j Don’t let this jar your cold cream, ' girls. But, “believe .it or-not,’’ that j indispensable cosmetic of present-day I femininity has been keeping the wrini kies from milady's face for more than I 2,000-years. So says Charles WhiteI bread, curator of the division of mediI cine at the National museum in Washington. o What is more, he says it is I the secondoldest of all pharmaeeu- ; tical preparations. And do you girls know who. “invented” your old stand- { hy? To quote Curator Whitebread ’the fragrant unguent has changed i very little from the original formula j for unguentum refrigerans ceratum, 1 Invented anti proscribed by the RoI man physician Galen, sometimes known as the ‘father of pharmacy.’”—Pathfinder ilagazine. Niagara’s -Rival The African waterfall which is by . many said to rival Niagara, is Vicj toria falls, on the Zambezi river, in i Central Africa. The chasm is about one-half the total width of Niagara, but more than twice its depth, varying .from 256 feet at the right bank to 343 feet in the center. Great River of Brazil The Amazon river in the interior of Brazil is between one and two miles wide where it enters Brazil and gradually increases in breadth to 50 miles at. it* main mouth. Where it enters the sea the distance across the water from headland to headland is fully 150 miles. Noted Western Character “Poker Alice” Tiibbs was a pictur esque character of the old West where she was a fixture in the mining camps •of the gold rush era. She was born in Devonshire. England, and came to , the United States with her family. She | died February 27, 1930, in Rapid City, ’ S, D. — of Supply Mary was driving through the country with her daddy when, for the first time in her life, she spied some cat-tails in a swamp, j “Oh, Daddy.” she cried, shaking his arm, “look at the hot-dog garden!”— Parent’s Magazine. “I Have Found It” The word “Eureka” is Greek, more \ .correctly “Heureka,” meaning “I have found it.” It is an exclamation of delight, appropriate when a discovery has been made. Eureka Is the motto I of CaSifbrnia, In allusion to the gold discovered there. Matter of Proportion An alienist says insanity is decreasing. But it may only seem so because you have to be crazier nowaday* to be crazy.—Racine Journal-News. Infancy of Umbrella Two hundred years ago it wa* a brave man who would carry an umbrella, for he would J>e laughed at a* a mollycoddle. Automotive Agriculture i “When it comes to putting out a crop of wild oats,” opines the Ohio State Journal, “the automobile make* a first-class sowing machine.” Yeah, but It also serves as a grim reaper on a good many occstslons.—Fort Wayne News-SentineL ■ ,