The Syracuse Journal, Volume 24, Number 47, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 17 March 1932 — Page 3

WORLD’S DEBT TO WHITMAN AS POET Modern Writers Fulfilling His Prophecy. American poetry in the still young Twentieth century underwent momentous changes of mind and heart. We have witnessed a renaissance, a new birth, almost a revolution, which la not concluded, but is in vigorous process. • It is a chapter in the complex chronicle of thought, culture, life of our time: it is a beautiful, vital.* heartening chapter In a record much of which Is not lovely, as many of the poets have felt and sadly sung. They have done much to interpret and redeem the evil and to glorify the good. Our poets are Intensely American without being provincial; modern as this mornings sun, but'liot Ignorant of man's oldest traditions or unaware of the timeless values. Even when there is no visible truce in them of Whitman's form and individual thought, many of them are fulfilling In their private ways the prophecy which-he madejof t>oets to come after bid). the declaration of Independence which he pugnaciously announced ■nd of which he was In his own time tbe«solitary signor. It Is our generation— not the decades before us. not the men who were children during his maturity—it Is we and not our fathers who have fully understood Whitman. He set American terse free long before “free verse’’ was taikejd about. It was not In form, but In substance that he sought liberation for himself and his successors. He believed, and his successors all believe, all take it for granted n<« matter what their special subjects, that anything under heaven or beyond can be! expressed In the open daylight of poetry. He protested ■gainst bookish words and poetic diction. Our poets ! can be orotund and rhetorical and swing through the heavens with verbal voluptuositles. but most of them aim at simplicity and find new richnessj in the old words that ate the life of us and can ■never be worn out. The versifier who uses a rubber-stamp phrase will be pitied or laughed at by his brethren, ■ent to the jfodt of the class until! he lea rns Petit er,—John Macy in Current History! Here’* Another Stab at Age of “Mother Earth’’ •One of die most remarkable discoveries of tecent years is the radio] active metaf. uranium, which gradu, ally chnm.cs into lead, s.iys London Tit Bilk The rate at which this process Is carried out is well known, ■nd It Is Invariable. By taking rocks which contain both uranium and ie‘a<i and finding the proportion of each metal now; existing in them, thy length of time necessary to bring ■bout the present state of affairs is not difficult to calculate. Such » calculation shows that the earth must have been solid not far short of two thousand million (Tears ago The paths of the earth around the aun and the moon around the earth are not what they were originally. Science can reconstruct them and discover the . time needed to give them their present shapes. All of these methods show that the age of the earth must be more than < ne thousand million years and less than four thousand million years. We shall, then, not be far wrong if V we fix the earth's birthday at about (wo thousand million years ago.

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John Gresham’s Girl by Concordia Merrel (Copyricht.)—WNU Ssrvios. *

CHAPTER Xl—Continued * —2o—- — too good for scum like you. you treacherous little beast.’’ nnswered Jim. a tone in his voice that suggested that the volcano had not really Itegun t<» show its full strength. A tone, too that awoke Ames thoroughly out of his stunned surprise. His mind cleared, and he sat forward, alert for the next movg Whatever It might be. He made no effort to interfere in any active way. That, he realized would be fatal. It would simply lead to a general scrap all round. He saw that his part nowmust be to keep a clear hcflld. and see that Lee did Macklin no real, serious] damage. Beyond that he must leave the settling of the score to Lee. And he saw Just what a mighty big score It was. ... What would come afterwards he couldn't tell. Perhaps it would be his turn to feel the strength of that mighty fist, and to look Into the revengeful fire of those blazing eyes. . . . But that. If it should happen, was for hereafter. Now, his Job plainly was to keep a cool head and a steadynerve am' be ready for anything. So he sat still: outwardly calm: in real- ' Ity. all keyed up and tensely watchful-. “Killing's too shod for you. you little beast." Let* was saving again, and his free fist drew back menacingly. Macklin shrieked to Ames. “Are you going to sit still and see me killed? He’s lying! I don’t know anything about the theft! Aren't you going to help me?" " ■ and his voice fell •with ZH cTTrn >us. telling coldness into tbe/Tt’ry of the scene. “I am not going tjyFnelp you. Macklin; I can see that he Is not lying. Your guilt Is as I ear tome now aa if It! were written in words on your forehead. Lee owes you a good deal. I'm going to let him pay it. . . ." Lee's fist drew back further, and the menace of it became more and more acute. . . . Macklin saw that fist coming toward his face. . . . Before it landed, he almost felt the smash of It on his flesh. . . . lie suddenly gave out a piercing shriek, and again Ames.' voice fell, cool and clear, •through the fear and horror and fury. “Don't hit him, Lee: he's.ton small." It was quietly said, but With a tone of authority -that made Jim hesitate. That hesitation probably saved Macklin. If not his life, at least whatever claim he had to good looks And it saved Jim from a good deal more. It gave him time to realize the difference In size between him and his enemy. It gave him time to realize what that difference might mean. It gave him time to remember, that, no matter what his enemy had done to him. he might " hit a fellow his own size, but not a little, cringing worm of a thing like Macklin. There could he no fighting this question oUt. To fight would be simply to kill. " It would be as Macklin had called it—murder. ... His fist, trembling with the desire to do Its work, nevertheless fell to his i s de and his hold of Martflin relaxed, i “Y<>u msshet kick up such a row. Macklin. I'm not going to smash you. | Not yet, at any rate. There's quite ' a lot for you to do first. Ik» you nn- 1 derstand?” His voice was harsh and menacing. Ames nodded his agreement. “I'm ready to fake down anything that Macklin says. Lee," he said quietly. Jnn turned t<iw;tr>|< h<m quickly, furiously. ’ “You realize at last that he may have something to say. then?" he said j roughly, “You realize that you were not so almighty infallible when you ! had me Jailed?’* “Lee," said Ames, looking him full i In'the face. “I realize It.” He drew • j breath. “What can I say?" he added ; after ■ moment. “L don't want you to say anything." t returned Lee In the same rough Way. “Your turn is coming next. I'm only j waiting to clear my account with I Macklin. Your turn's coming, all right. Ames." “I am quite ready," answered Ames. Jim turned back to Macklin. “Now then, you little beast—talk. . . . D'you understand? Talk. . . He let go altogether of Macklin's coat, mow.,and the miserable man sank to the floor with a groan. Jim dragged him up again, threatening him with that terrible fist. “I will. ... I will. . . .""cried Mtcklin, sobbing now in his abject terror. "You didn't mind letting me take your punishment for you. You watched that happen; made it happen, and re- ‘ mained spry enough. . . . Now stand up, d—n you. and take It yourself. . . . It’s been a long time coming to you. . , , But that doesn't- mean that It's going to •overlook you forever. . . . Stand up and take it!” Jim was thundering out the words, and Macklin shrank down again, crying over and over again: “I will. . . . Warrington. I wilt ... 1 will!" "I'm ready,” said Ames, placing a writing-pad before him and taking the t<*P off • fountain pen. . . . “Talk Macklin." Shaking, crying, tears running down his face, Macklin made his confession. He had found the wallet Jim had lost, and the Idea to disgrace him had arisen out of that.. He bad paid half-witted Billy Brady to do the actual robbery for him He had thought that this foolish creature would Dot have the wit to know what he had done, nor to place the blame . . ..

where it was really due. But he had proved to be not nearly so lacking in intelligence, of a sort, as people had always thought. And he had been ruthlessly blackmailing Macklin ever since. Macklin had succeeded in hiding the stolen notes from him. but by means of a letter left in the roots of the now stricken elm. the half-wit had always been able to make Macklin keep any appointment die chose to make] And although he could never find out where the money was hidden, he could always get what he wanted. Macklin was too much afraid of him to refuse him anything he asked. In a pause in the wretched story. Ames asked: “What spite had you against Warrington that you should have done this to him?” The thought that he might make up some convincing lie even now and so make it seem that he really had had a serious grievence against Lee passed through his mind. But Ames said sternly; “The truth, please. Macklin." And. the truth came. “He was getting on too fast. . . . Threatening to get In my way. I meant to be manager and I saw that he meant to do me out of the job . . ." the whining voice said, and Ames faithfully wrote it ail down. When the last word of the confession had been spoken, Ames handed the pen to Macklin. * " “Your name, please. Macklin.” he said, and with a hand that trembled so that the signature only Just got ! written.Macklin signed the infamous story, and collapsed into a heap on the fl«H>r. , His overwrought nerves had taken their revenge, and gone suddenly to pieces. That effectively put him but of reach of Jim's violence, for it was obvious that he was a case for a (lector now. He was lying on the floor, to all intents and purposes, dead. But Amos, going to him qnickly. found that bis heart was beating and that his breathing was tolerably even. He picked the little man up and sat him in his chair again, “Ring the bell, and unlock the door.” he said to Jim. and Jim obeyed. Less than twenty minutes later, a doctor had seen Macklin, brought him to life

“Changed Into Silver and Then Buried It in the Wood.” again, and had him taken to a hospital. Ames had given brief but sufficient explanations, and having seen the doctor off in charge of Macklin, came back t<> his office and faced Jim. “Well?" he said, standing by the door and looking very straight at him. “It will be your turn next." said Jim, slowly. ’ I id for thqt.” answered Ames. "But. Lee may I say. . . . May I apologize. ... Apologize! Good G- d, words ®re SO inail»*quate! But listen- man, 1 wouldn’t have let this hapi»en for anything in the world. . . ! If I liad not honestly believed that you were the man who did that rotten thing. . . . I wouldn't have let it happen. . . .’’ His Coolness was deserting him now. and the words were falling unevenly from his lips. Lih* stood straight and still. His face was unmoved save for the quiver of his lips as he said : “For all that, it did happen. For all Hint. I lived three years in—Hell." “1 know there Is nothing that one can say. . . . I'm bowled over by it I am. Indeed. ... That I should have allowed such a thing. . . ! That I sboqld have helped it to happen. . . . There’s nothing I can aay for myself, except that I acted in all good faith. . . ." “That doesn't ido much to undo those’three years, does it. Arnes?” said Jim, with a bitter sneer in the words. “No. My G—d. it’s terrible! What can I do to make amends?” “You can’t do anything except the obvious things that are to be done to clear: me in tbe eyes of the world. That is all you can do. and all that I'll ever ask of you. For the rest . . . Well. I'm doing the rest. Ames. I’m doing the rest. Such amends as are to be made, will be made. You may rest assured of that. . . “You are still bent on revenge?" “Still? It is a greater thing than ever it was. . . . Why. a whole three years of planning are only Just beginning to bear fruit. . . ." There was tbe crudest sort of exultation in that. Ames was suddenly afraid as he had not been during all Jim's fury. He was silent for a long moment, then: “If it would be the smallest satisfaction to you, Lee.' ... If it would work this thing off a bit. . . . You may take me out into the yard and smash me. . . .” The offer was made very quietly and quite seriously. “I’U smash you all right," answered Jim. “But not that way. That way’s too easy for one of my strength. As you said of Macklin just now. . . . You’re too small. . . . But I’U smash you all right. I'm Li nforths. Understand?" He twisted away and slammed out of the room. He remained in Newcbester long enough to be sure that Macklin was out of danger, and that Ames had put things in train to have him exonerated

THE SYRACUSE JOURNAL.

In the eyes of the law and of the world in general.* Then, with the memory of that last night with Lucy, of his hideous surrender to his passion Jfor her. and the torment of her baffling resistance of him, lashing brain and heart and soul of. him to a tempest of' driving emotion, he returned to town and to Lucy. She. he found, was at her father’s: had been there .since she had left Newchester. Tempest-driven, he went to find her there. He was shown into the library, the room where they had met on her party night. When she came into the room ind looked up at him. shaking a quiet greeting, half diffident, as if she were not sure what had brought him, he found his heart knocking hard, and his eyes were alight again at sight of her. He returned her greeting without making any move nearer to her. His eyes, devouring her face, saw that she looked white and fagged. “Macklin has confessed,” he said abruptly. “I'm glad. Jim. Awfully glad," she answered warmly. “This is real proof?" “Even your cousin, Oliver Ames, has been good enough to express himself convinced of my innocence,’’ he said, his tone grim and sneering. “I always knew the truth must come out. . . . It’s wonderful. Jim.” She looked up at him a little wistfully, as if she were mutely asking him to take the blessings of Justice, even though it had come iate, and to let the old injustice be a thing of the past. “It was Billy Brady who knocked the clerk out—under orders from Macklin. Billy's chief madness is a passion for silver money. Every time he, blackmailed money out of Macklin, he got it changed into silver and then buried it in the wood. He never seems to have gone back for it. They've found more than thirty little lots, and they're still looking. He’s under restraint, of course, and will be for the rest of his life.” He told her this story quite expressionlessly. “I knew he wasn’t safe," she said. “I’m glad they’ve got film; he really was a menace, wasn’t he?” If she hoped to draw hini into a discussion of the affair, and thus to a more friendly footing, si. was disappointed. For he only nodded and then asked abruptly: . » “Is your father in?’’ “Yes,” she said. “He’s. . . .” “I've conie to tell him Just exactly who I am. Just exactly who it is his daughter has married. . . .” he broke in. “You can't.” she answered quietly but with firmness. “My father is ill. I found him down with ‘flu* when I got back. He has been rather bad. . . . You can't tell him now.” “Why should I consider him?" he retorted. “Did he think of me when he left me to be Jailed for something I had not done?” “You cannot tell him now,” wasiall She said. “He is too ill." “I intend to tell him now, or at any time I think fit,” he answered, brutally. She did not spoak. but she moved over to the door and stood before it, her arms outstretched. "Very well, mov? me. then; there is only myself between you and him.” He stood looking at her, his eyes aflame. "Stand aside,” he ordered in a low voice. “I shall not move unless you forcibly move me,” she replied. “Stand aside.” he ’said again, and this time he took a step toward her. “No.” His hands clenched to fists, his face was working oddly. “Do you want me to ; . . to . . . lift you out of my wa>y?” he asked In a shaken voice. “You will have to, °If you mean to get to my father,” she told him steadily. . Tempest-driven, he started toward her again. And again stopped. She Hst<MMl unmoving. His hands clenched and unclenched . . . He strove with words that, somehow, he could not speak. * _ • , Something like a cry broke from him. “All right, then, stand aside and Just let me go.” he said at last. She obeyed and he flung past her out into the hall, and out into the street. She heard the slam of the front door and the sound of his running steps. . . . • • • • • • • She remained at her father’s house, giving to° the world the excuse of his need of her. in his illness, but Jim knew that it was to avoid himself, for she resolutely refused to see him. (»nly he. she had said, could make her leave him: well he had done it. She had left him. and there seemed to he no chance of her coming back to him. Then, she robbed him of the triumph of telling Sir John who he really was, by telling him herself, as soon as he was well enough to hear such news. Still, he declared fiercely to himself, that was a small part of it; the smashing of Gresham's was his chief aim, and nothing on earth should make him forego that. During the next few weeks he found himself exonerated formally in the eyes of all the world, of any guilt in connection with the crime for which he had suffered. Macklin was being dealt with by the law. and things were jnot looking too rosy for him. Sir John, terribly npset, and not fully understanding quite all there was In the situation between Lucy and her husband. made very sincere offers of reconciliation. but Jim's madness for revenge swept him on, and he would only fight Gresham's tooth and nail. Things began to look bad for the old firm. Ames doggedly stuck to his post and did his best, but he was up against a competition that was wholly uncaring of consequences. So that he ruined Gresham's, Jim did not mind If he ruined himself In the process. “And hang it all,” Ames said more than once, getting nervy, and feeling utterly at a loss as to how to counter the attack. “He must be losing hand over fist. If I were to engage to build a boat for nothing he’d engage to build two on the same terms. ... He can't go on forever. . . ." “No,” Sir John would answer him, “find neither can we, Oliver." Which was only too true. "The biggest business in the world couldn't stand against competition of this sort,” Ames declared. (TO BK CONTiKinfiD.)

--------ikzppoVFn UNIFORM INTERNATIONAL SUNDAY I chool Lesson (By REV. P. B. FITZWATER, L>. D„ Member of Faculty. Moody Bible Institute of Chicago.) (©. 1932. Western Newspaper Union.) Lesson for March 20 JESUS DIES ON THE CROSS LESSON TEXT—John 19:17-22: 25-30. GOLDEN TEXT—Fur I delivered unto you first of all that which I also received, how that Christ died for our sins according th the scriptures. PRIMARY TOPlC—Jesus Gives His Lite for Ue. JUNIOR TOPlC—Jesus Gives His IJfe for Us. INTERMEDIATE AND SENIOR TOPlC—Jesus Dies for Us. YOUNG PEOPLE AND ADULT TOPIC—Why Christ Died. This lesson presents the greatest tragedy of all time. No record in the annals of history approaches it It is In a real sense the climax of all history. Though unique~in its blackness, from it flows streams of life and liberty for all the world. It is highly important that every teacher have the personal experience of Christ’s death for himself and then endeavor to get his pupils to see that Christ's death was instead of their own death. We. escape judgment because the judgment we merited fell upon Christ. I. The Place (v. 17). It was on a hill called in Latin "Calvary” and in Hebrew “Golgotha.” which in shape resembled a skull. This hili is a few yards outside Jerusalem. Tins is a most significant name for the plaice where man's redemption was accomplished. The skull Is an apt picture of man's condition as a result of sin—life and intelligence gone, leaving only the dark empty cavern which once contained them. 11. His Companions (v. ,18, cf. Luke 23:33). Two malefactors were crucified prlth him.' Their names are not given. This was in fulfillment of Isaiah 53:12, “He was numbered with the transgressors.” He was sinless-, but became sin for us, showing how completely the Saviour identified himself with sinners. 111. The Inscription over Him (vv. 19, 20). It was customary to place an inscription over the cross, stating the crime for which the victim suffered. Although Pilate did this in bitter irony and contempt, he uttered a great truth, affirming more than he intended. IV. Gambling for the Garments of Jesus (w. 23.J24). This was a fulfillment of the scripture, “They part my garments among them, and cast lots unon my vesture" Ps. 22:18. Jhis is an exhibition of how men’s hearts may be so calloused to plan an act for present gain under the shadow of the cross of Christ. V. Utterances from the Cross (vv. 25-30). 1. “Behold thy son —“Behold thy mother” (vv. 25* 26). In this crucial hour he forgot his own bitter anguish and interested himself in those he loved. This is a fine example of human sympathy, and especially of filial love at its best. Though he was leaving the eartli and its struggles, he made provision for the mother left behind. 2. “I thirst" (v. 28). As the sinner's representative, he suffered, not only untold agony of mind, but of body' as well. 3. “It is finished” (v. 30). While no one can fathom the depth of meaning in these words, they no <s>ubt indicate a. That the calumnies and indignities heaped upon him were at an end. His trial was grossly illegal. False witnesses were employed to incriminate him. b. His awful sufferings were at an end. The penalty of the unnamable and indescribable sins of the. world were resting upon him. wringing from him the pathetic cry. ’My God. my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" c. The fulfillment of every type and prophecy. d. His life of perfect obedience. e. The great work of redemption. “Finished*! means more than ended. It means “accomplished.” All that he started out to do was now completed. f. The judgment of th(e world and the casting <>ut of Satan\(See John 12:31.) ) “From this point on wre was no more humiliation, ihsult. or outrage. To multiplied insults and Indignities our Lord was subjected from the hour of his arrest in the garden to the piercing of his side with the spear. But from the moment when the spearthrust made it certain that he was actually dead, no cherished infant form could be more tenderly taken in arms, wrapped In clean linen with aromatic spices, and laid at rest in a faultlessly clean chamber. Neither was he ever again seen by an unfriendly eye. Truly. aS to all sorrow and suffering and vicarious agony. It was finished.” VI. Hi« Death 4. v. 30, cf. Luke -3:44. 45). His death was voluntary. It was unlike any other death in all history. By an act of sovereign will he dismissed his spirit. No one took his life from him. He had power to lay it down and power to take it up again. So shocking was the crime that nature herself threw around the Son of God a shroud to hide him from the godless crowd. Darkness was upon the land at noonday. SOLEMN THOUGHTS The cross .is the world’s reward for goodness. Intellectual gout Is the cause of many ■ map's doubt. The pessimist is one who thinks God has turned the world over to him and the devil to run. • • • “The measure of the stature of Christ" sought and approached is a satisfying endeavor. • • • A pastor who appears among his fellows as a man of the highways and the hedges always commands admiration.

Diet Didn’t Do This!

■ Jwt..

HAPPY little girl, just bursting with pep, and she has never tasted a “tonic I” Every child’s stomach, liver, and bowels need stimulating at times, but give children something you , know ail about. Follow the advice of that famous family physician who gave the world Syrup Pepsin. Stimulate the body's vital organs. Dr. Caldwell’s prescription of pure pepsin, active senna, and fresh herbs is a mild stimulant that keeps the system from getting sluggish. If your youngsters don’t do well at school, don’t play as hard or eat as well as other children do, begin this evening with Dr. Caldwell’s

Short-Sighted German* Statistics derived from investigations conducted by the German government show that Germany mav very properly be designated as the “Land of the Shortsighted.” Nowhere else 1n the whole world is there a country where there is a-

That Nagging Backache May Warn of a Disordered Kidney or Bladder Condition yX fnL--HEED promptly a nagging backache, with bladder ir- Br t regularities and a tired, nervous, /' depressed feeling. They may warn ’ j of feome disordered kidney or bladder condition. I sers everywhere rely on Doon’s | Pills. The sale of millions of boxes r annually attests to Doan's popularitv. Your druggist has Doan's. Doan 9 s Pills

Nice Bit of Work Prim Old Aunt—Edith, the way you flirted with that young man was terrible. J . Pretty Niece—-Why. auntie, I’m sure he thought I did it very well.

Fight those colds!\ - Whbn winter begins to break up, wet weather brings on a flood Os annoying colds. Men and women often lose fitness during such seasonal changes. It's an ideal time to take Scott S Emulsion of Cod Liver Oil every day. Doctors find that the wealth of Vitamin A in this emulsion is stored up by human bodies and builds resistance to the common cold. This is the pleasant, palatable way for adults to take cod liver oil. Scott & Bowne, Bloomfield, N. J. Sales Representative, Hatold F. Ritchie & Co., Inc., New York. Lirrni TO £*« Seott <t Bownt radio profra-m "Advtatvrinf Com*! Ladmrr." on Sunday al t:»0 p. ». ovor tko , Col«m*<a Coaal-to-Coa»< Notioork

Scott’s Emulsion oi \orh hgia \ Fiver oil

At the Hockey Match Husband (a true fan)—That goaltender gets ? 10,000 *t season to keep that puck from going into the net. Wife (her first game)—Pshaw! Any carpenter would board It up for 50 cents!

Neuralgia

The agonizing aches from neuralgia can be quieted in the same way you would end a headache. Take some Bayer Aspirin. Take enough to bring complete relief. Genuine aspirin can’t hurt anybody. Men and women bent with rheumatism will find the same wonderful comfort in these tablets. They aren’t just for headaches or colds! Read the proven directions covering a dozen other uses; neuritis, sciatica; lumbago; muscular pains. Cold, damp days which penetrate to the very bones have lost their terror for those who carry Bayer Aspirin’ All druggists, in the familiar little box:

ft

Syrup Pepsin. This gentle stimulant will soon right things! The bowels will move with better regularity and thoroughness. There won’t be so many sick spells or colds] You’ll find it just as wonderful for adults. * too, in larger spoonfuls! Get some Syrup Pepsin; protect your household from those bilious days, frequent headaches, and that sluggish state of half-health that means the bowels need stimulating. Keep this preparation in the home to use instead of harsh cathartics that cause chronic (constipation if taken too often. You can always get Dr. Caldwell’s Syrup Pepsin at any drug store; they have it all ready in big bottles.

larger percentage of j nearsighted people. Os the German states where visional defects are most pronounced, Saxony was discovered to be at the « head of the unenviable list. There, out of every 1,000 adults, more than 200 are affected with myopia.—Neues Wiener Tagblatt, ViennX

Generosity Wanted ' “Is that ex-gambler good to you, * Polly?” “No. I’ll trade a husband with a past for a man with a. present any day." i

Not Catching "Has jrour hpsband any hobbles?” ajsked the neighbor. s , “No,” said Mrs. Tuggle, "he has rheumatiz a good deal, and hives now and then,-but he ain’t never had no hobbies.”

I