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Uncle Wali’5
"O T*'fJ
HUMOR OF BOYS
“M Y next door neighbor has a
boy who is going to get into
trouble if he doesn’t reform,” said
the retired merchant. “He’s always
playing idiotic tricks on me, and I’m
getting tired of it. This morning, as
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(13%.. ,6 :v-estfikéé Vivi?
may =5522M:fiz::;s:2-.’2.:.-:;s.-.;:;z‘:4;;::~:§’ “3,;
you were young. Whenever a boy
'puts up a job on me, and I feel my¬
self getting mad, I recall some of my
own exploits when I was a lad, and
that enables me to forget my troubles.
“I was looking through an ancient
album last evening, and saw the pic¬
ture's of a lot of people who fell off
the earth many years ago. They were
venerable men and women in my
schooldays, and I had played tricks
on every one of them; not with mal¬
ice aforethought, but just because a
kid must have his fun.
“There was a picture of old Aunt
Betsy, who used to come to our house
once in a while, on a visit, and as soon
as she came she took charge of every¬
thing. She knew how to do things
better than anybody else, and she was
always criticising, my mother’s meth¬
ods. Whenever mother started to do
anything, Aunt Betsy would take the
job out of her hands, saying she would
show the right way to do it.
“I had heard somewhere that if you
put a drop or two of acetic acid in
a gallon of cream, that re am will
never make butter. T had a great
memory for such facts, and kept them
on file where they would be useful.
One morning mother said she would
have to churn, anil she got things
ready. I knew that as soon as she
started Aunt Betsy would want to
show her how it shduld be done, so
when I had a chance, I dropped some
of the acid into the churft, which was
one of those old upright affairs, with
a dasher that you worked up and
down until the butter came.
“Mother seated herself on a stool
and began churning, and then Aunt
Betsy came along, and said tlud whi’e
she was a modest and unassumi u'
woman, she did claim to know a
tie more about churning than any 1 coy
of her weight in that par) of 1 .<
epuntry. ‘Let me do it, my dear ■
she. ‘and I'll have butter in ri
minutes by, the clock.’ So she look
hold of the dasher and he or. she.
away with it. She worked and , ,n 1 . d
and. the sweat began rolling d a ’
face, and every once in a while sh
lift the lid of the churn to see v.
ailed the doggone cream, and the:
she’d pour in some cold water, ami
then some hot water, and the more
she wrestled away, (he less sign of
butter was there.
“She whanged away at that ding
busted churn for two hours and
couldn’t get results, and she was so
mad and disgusted over it she want¬
ed to pack her trunk and go back
home. Mother saw me rolling around
in the yard all doubled up with un¬
holy mirth, and she realized at once,
by deductive reasoning, that 1 was
responsible, and the licking I got that
evening took the edge off my sense
of humor for three weeks.
“Another time. Uncle .Tames was vis¬
iting us. He used to sit in a rustic
chair under an apple tree and doze,
after dinner. He had a bald head,
and his hat always s licL o ff after he
had snored a few times. One day I
sneaked up behind him with a feather
and began tickling his head. He’d
slap his dome of thought and cuss
a little, and then doze agfJin. when I
would get busy with the feather. That
went on for quite a while, and I was
having the time of my life. T never
heard any language more highly col¬
ored than Uncle James put up.
“My mother heard him saying
things, and came to the door and asked
him what was the matter, and he
said a ding-donged lopsided fly was
chewing his scalp off. He had chased
it away three million times, but it al¬
ways came back. I got another lick¬
ing that night, and my mind was oc¬
cupied with serious things for a
month.”
A Simpleton.
Our idea of a simp is a man who
marries a lady lawyer and then tries
to make an alibi stick.—Dallas News.
About Twenty-eight.
“Pop!”
“Yes, my son.”
“What are the middle ages?”
“Why, the middle ages, mtrboy, are
the ones which, when the women
reach, they stop counting.”—Yonkers
Statesman.
A Possible Trouble.
Muggins—It's strange that Wigwag
doesn’t succeed. He seems to have no
difficulty In catching on.
Buggins— Maybe the trouble is he
doesn’t know when to let go.
I was leaving
home, I found
my front gate
nailed shut, and I
had to climb over
it, and nearly
broke my back
doing it.”
“I wouldn’t give
three cents for a
boy who didn’t
play tricks,” re¬
plied the hotel
keeper. “I ex¬
pect you were as
giddy as the rest
of them when
Under advertising
By WILL T. AMES
Xyi'U. tiy AicCiure Newspaper Syndicate. >
“But 1 do wish, mother, that he
had more personality—no, I don’t
rnear that, either.” Julia Fellows
frowned abstractedly over her bed¬
time glass of malted milk. “It isn’t
that he hasn't character and individ¬
uality enough, but somehow he seems
to he forever keeping a clieckrein on
j ! himself, sort of afraid to let any sin
gle enthusiasm get loose and caper
around in that sober old head of his.
j. “Sometimes it seems to me as if tie
were using up a lot of steam just try
j ing to live down to that dreadfully though
commonplace name of his—as
he'd made up his mind that nobody
called Henry Brown had any business
to put flourishes around his person¬
ality any more than around his sig¬
nature. and was trying to avoid giv¬
ing offense. I hate anything like that
—anything like self-effacement.”
Mrs. Fellows was the knitting kind
! of mother. She was knitting now, and
: smiling the very least of smiles at her
| daughter’s attempts to analyze the
j person called Henry Brown. answered.
“I have observed,” she
; “that you don’t appear to altogether
detest Henry even if you do ‘hate’
j some of his characteristics. Personally
| 1 can’t see that he lacks self-respect
j or even force. Of course, he is in
contrast to Forrest Noyes”—the mother
| rook a sly look upon that young worn
an. engaged as she was with the last
of her milk—“and. if you want my
, opinion, in rather favorable contrast.”
“But, mother, that’s just It. I can't
understand it at all. I just dote on
Foirest’s bubbling optimism; his van
Sty is appalling but fascinating.”
Henry Brown was in real estate.
Ht was a broker, not speculator, and
be made bis money In bits.
On the day following her brief talk
with her mother a visit to her den¬
tist. whose offices were in the same
building, brought Julia Fellows to the
door of Henry’s place of business.
She opened the door to bid him good
morning. Henry’s stenographer was
putting on her hat. “Mr. Brown is
out.” she said, “but he’ll he hack in
a moment. I’m just running out # to
the bank. Won't you wait?”
Julia bad scarcely more than seated
herself at the window before she hoard
Henry’s voice In the hallway outside,
exchanging greetings with some ac
quaintance.
A visit from her would lie a nu
prise to Henry anyhow, and she might
is well make It complete by popping
out at him as soon as he had settled
himself at that orderly desk of his.
Put Henry was not alone and the
voice of the other person was that of
Forrest Noyes. The gir^ was trapped.
She detested dicing bantered about
: Henry: and at that moment she real
j Ized as she never had before what a
! gossip Forrest Noyes was.
“Tv’s no use. Forrest.” she heard
Henry say; rt T won’t have anything
to do with it. I’ll grant there’s money
: in it. and it’s easy to put over.”
“But,” protested Noyes, “they’ll be
getting their land cheap enough so
they can afford to correct these faults
They’ll get their money’s worth.”
“Ti nt's • i-ohably true. Noyes. But
!b> ' • •••’’•’•Pt be getting what was
; r ■ them. Just to take a ous
! ton er up there and show him those
lots, ; the price you figure on. would
*»e to promise him twice the value ot
fils money—and if he bought he’d tie
good and Uieky.to break even. I don’t
do things that way.”
j “Ob. blazes! How far do you think
you can carry that stilted stuff in
| life?”
“All the way. Most'tragedies come
from somebody’s failure to keep not
a spoken promise hut an implied one.
I’ve tried to avoid making them.
Here’s what I mean. A fellow gets
a chance to meet some clever people
He coaches himself tip for the oc¬
casion, plans a number of bright things
to say—says them, and gets away
with it. He’s promised them clever
.companionship and they take hint on
the strength of the promise—and pret¬
ty soon they drop him. He didn’t
make good on a voluntary pledge—
see?”
Noyes grunted. “Overstrained
morality.”
“You’re wrong, Noyes; merely play¬
ing safe and avoiding humps. Here,
you take the case of h man and a
girl. Chap plays up his wit, plays up
Bis good temper, plays up his generos¬
ity. plays up his interest in things the
girl Is interested in, plays up his high
spirits—plays ’em all up away above
par till he makes the girl think he’s
the cleverest thing that ever happened
and the best company, and he gets
her. Then in about a month the girl
finds that he’s shot off all his sky¬
rockets. played out his basket of
tricks. He promised her a lifetime of
interest—and he delivers a goose egg.
He hasn’t made good. You can chase
it all the way down the line, Forrest,
and you’ll find that overadvertising
| •—overpromising—in business, in so
ciai life, in the family or wherever—
doesn't pay. Here, come on out and
pet a cigar and then I've got to get
to work. No. I’ll leave the door open. - '
“The wise, wise old head of thai
i young man," exclaimed Julia to her
seif, over and over again as she bur
ried home—and she smiled happily to
herself more than once. As she passed
into the house she called out ovei
her shoulder to Mrs. Fellows, knit
ting placidly in the shade of the hon
ey-suckle, “You were right, mother •
the riddle did answer itself. The an
ewer is ‘underadvertising.' ”
THE COVINGTON NEWS, COVINGTON, GEORGIA.
GASOLINE, KEROSENE
PRICES ARE CUT IN 5
STATES; NOT IN GA,
New York, Feb. 2.—The Stan¬
dard Oil Compony of New Jer¬
sey anounced today that a reduc¬
tion of one cent a gallon in the
price of gasoline and kerosene
in New Jersey, Maryland, North
Carolina and Louisiana.
The wholesale price of gas¬
oline in Jersey City and Balti¬
more was also reduced from 28
1-2 to 27 1-2 cents a gallon and
kerosene from 18 1-2 to 17 1-2
cents a gallon.
No Notice Received of Reduc¬
tions Here.
Atlanta managers of the
Standard Oil Company, the Tex¬
as Company and the Gulf Re¬
fining Compony anounced Wed¬
nesday that they had not yet re¬
ceived any notice of a decline in
the price of gasoline, and until
such notice was received, the
price would remain at thirty-one
cents per gallon to the consumer.
They said further that there had
been no reduction in the price
of kerosene.
You realize what a story real¬
ly amounts to when you see for¬
ty chapters told in a ten-line sy¬
nopsis.
Too much prosperity has ruin- ,
ed many an individual, and like¬
wise, some nations. From it j
lead many paths; sue h as, li¬
cense, idleness and pleasure.
Prosperity, so to speak, is the!
favorite offspring of money. |
In the language - of the Scrip¬
ture, “Money is the root of all
evil.” No doubt —prosperity
would have ben given to us
but, being the descendents of
AcL.m and Eve, we v. ;e
the privilege.
Needs Long Seasoning,
Wood for tennis rackets requires.at
least five years in the rough timber
state before being cut up for use. Wood
for pianos is kept, as a rule, for 40
years before It is used.
riipUF. circumference of the world. 4s
A said to be about 25,000 miles, fol¬
lowing the lino of the equator. Placfld
end-to-end, a year’s supply of Cbero
Cola labels would more than circle the
world.
Another example of the popularftyof
CHERO-COLA
Popularity toenred ihrongh
p t; - v kMfiwl - n TrikjS i* fell;**:
I 1
tgi
WI aFVi v*
-
eg ion
IT VURING the past ten years the automobile,
MM the manure and lime spreader occupied the
time of many wagon makers. But Thorn¬
hill stuck to the wagon and to the farmer trade.
Over rough mountain roads, through swamps, at
logging camps, these wagons did duty daily.
Thus the fame of the Thornhill spread, -and
the demand grew steadily greater.
Tough Highland Hickory
Their plant is located in the very shadow of
mighty forests of mountain hickory. The ground
is hard—the climate severe. The wood has to
fight for life. So it grows sturdy and strong—
close-grained and tough—well nigh unbreakable.
It has nearly twice the strength of hickory that
grows in softer ground, which is usually brittle
brash. The white oak, growing under similar
conditions, develops a similar toughness.
The oak and hickory are dried outdoors under
shelter and kept there from thr e to five years —
so piled that the air can circulate freely. 'The
sap dries in it. v
PIPER HARDWARE COMPANY, Covington. Ga
Some say t’neir location in the heart of the
hardwood region is the reason why they can build
such a wear-proof wagon. And this is partly
true. For good, tough oak and hickory are things
no man can make,
But much is due to their modern labor-saving
plant. Materials start at^one end of the plant
and come out a finished wagon at the other. Each
man does but a single task, and he does that task
to perfection.
A Clan of blaster Builders
But to the men are due many of the Thorn*
hill long-wearing, light-running features. Years
ago they attracted to their plant the masters of
wagQn building. They asked these men fer im¬
provements, and the men who made them re¬
ceived their just reward.
Together they worked out mote improvements
than had ever been made in the twenty years that
%venf before.
Let us show you a Thornhill and demonstrate
the value of Thornhill construction, fkts-N)
