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Care Tri-Weekly Journal,
Atlanta, Georgia.
A BIBLE THOUGHT FOR TODAY
Slouthfulness casteth into a deep sleep,
and an idle soul shall suffer hunger. He
that keepeth. the commandment keepeth his
own soul, but he that despiseth his ways
shall die. Love not sleep lest thou come
to poverty; open thine eyes, and thou shalt
be satisfied with bread. The thoughts of
the diligent tend to plenteousness; but of
every one that is hasty, only to want. The
getting of treasures by a lying tongue is
a vanity tossed to and fro of them that
seek death. He that lovcth pleasure shall
be a poor man. Whoso stoppeth his ears
at the cry of the poor, he also shall cry
himself but shall not be heard.—Proverbs.
Universal Mobilization
FIVE measures dealing with proposed
universal mobilization in the United
States in time of war are now before
congress, two of them being in the nature
of amendments to the constitution, and
three, additions to our statutory laws. One
of the latter is the measure introduced in
the senate by Senator Capper and sponsored
by the American Legion; and in the house
of representatives by Representative Royal
C. Johnson, of South Dakota: “In case of
war, or when the President shall judge the
same to be imminent,” says the bill, “he is
authorized and it shall be his duty when in
his opinion such emergency requires it—to
determine, proclaim, and conscript the ma
terial resources, industrial organizations and
services over which Government control is
necessary to the successful termination of
such emergency, and such control shall be
exercised by him through agencies then ex
isting or which he may create for such pur
pose.”
The bill Introduced by John J. ’McSwain,
of South Carolina, provides for a fact-finding
commission composed of the secretary of
War, secretary of the navy, secretary of
commerce, two members of the house, two
of the senate, and three other persons not
holding official or governmental po ions.
This commission is to make its first report
November, 1924. The bill sets out that
“true preparedness demands our calm and
careful adoption in advance of another war,
a nation-wide policy of service for all citi
zens, to the end that while youn. men are
laying down for their country the comforts
and joys of home and family, their health,
their strength and time, their blood, bodies,
and life itself, others not required to make
these greater sacrifices may be required to
lay down equitably and fairly some of their
material resources and wealth.”
The proposals for constitutional amend
ments are from John M. Evans, of Montana,
and Johnson, of South Dakota, and are in
effect identical. McSwain, of South Caro
lina, has introduced another bill -enlarging
the powers of war industries, trade, food,
fuel and labor boards, which almost, if not
quite, covers the ground and ap? ■ the prin
ciple ®f universal mobilization. As to the
necessity for a constitutional am; -.dment
there is a divergence of opinion in congress.
No strong opposition to the application of
the principle involved is as yet apparent.
The main argument advanced in opposition
in that mobilization would upset indu-trial
organizations.
The appeal this new legislation makes to
the doughboy is disclosed in the announce
ment of a Kansan who went through the
trouble “over there;”
“In the next war. I’m going to let the
profiteer do my fighting. I’m going to
stand on the street >rner and cheer him as
he marches away, out yonder to the mud
and the cooties and the night flying bomb
ing planes. And while he’s uown at camp,
waiting for entraining orde* I’m ; " to
send him a nice tissue paper raincoat.”
ly and cheerfully see
that things are made
right.
We want every sub
scriber to get The* Tri-
Weekly Journal reg
ularly and punctual
ly. We want ail of
them to receive what
they have paid for.
We want only satis
fied subscribers. A
small percentage of
errors are unavoid
able, but we want to
correct them quickly.
Address,
THE ATT,ANTA TRIWEEKLY JOIKNAI
■Co-operation and Crop Values
A PARTICULARLY interesting field of
co-operative farm marketing is touch
ed upon by the Albany Herald, when
it says: “That Georgia can produce peanuts
in large quantities has been demonstrated;
’ marketing is the only problem with , which
' growers need concern themselves. A neces
j sary part of the solution of the marketing
, problem is the question, of acreage, for great
I overproduction would depress prices in spite'
of anything the co-operative association could
| do.” That is to say, plans for efficient mar-
I keting must begin at seedtime, not merely at
harvest. ’Further, “Through their asso
| ciation the growers will be able to
| inform themselves fully as to prob
able demands for peanuts next fall
j and winter, and can pitch their acreage ac
cordingly. The crop is one of the most prom
ising of the many money crops of this sec
tion. Co-operation in the apportionment of
acreage is as important as co-operation in
selling the crop when it matures.”
The significance of this comment Is in the
fact that ten years ago it would hardly have
been forthcoming from even so alert an ob
server as the Albany Herald. That co-opera
tive selling afforded certain general advan
tages to the farmer was recognized long ago,
but not until recently have the manifold and
extensive possibilities of the system become
apparent. Where farmers once were with
out guidance or safeguard against market
uncertainties, now, thanks to their co-opera
tive associations, they can anticipate the
trend of events. They can avail themselves
of a vast deal of information bearing upon
known supply and probable demand, and also
of expert counsel. Planting in accordance
with such knowledge, they are far less likely
to depress prices by overproduction than in
proceeding every man for himsdlf without
regard to their general interests. This is
but one of the many services of co-operation
to . _ gricu.'.L..c* but this alone means
millions of dollars.of conserved and created
values for the commonwealth.
THE USE OF BEAUTY
By Dr. Frank Crane
OF what use is beauty?
Why develop an appreciation of it?
When old man Hicks sees his son
wanting to study the violin he is disgusted.
Why be one of “them fiddlin’ fellers?”
There are a great many who secretly share
the Hicks point of view. They have no use
for a classical concert. They prefer to go to
a ball game.
The Ninth Symphony of Beethoven is to
them a .lot of caterwauling, and “Tristan
und Isolde” is a two-inch bore. The pic
ture gallery gives them disgust They see no
sense in spending money to make the city
hall a thing of beauty, and prefer to have it
look like a stone barn. And why parks,
statues, and landscape gardening?
instead of pooh-poohing those who feel
thus, I will try to show them what their
mistake it, for they are honest people.
Their error is that they do not see how
training a man to see and understand the
beautiful really promotes his happiness and
makes him more of a man every way.
Perfect happiness and perfect greatness
come by perfect self-expression.
The art of life is to develop all the forces
that are in you. ,
Now the world of music, for instance, is
a wide, wide world, full of a thousand pleas
ant sensations, subtle stimulations, and feel
ings that expand and deepen one’s scope of
life. Take a person young enough and teach
him how io enjoy music; and how to under
stand those kinds of music which are lasting,
and you have simply added a great room to
his house of life.
Teach him -what pictures mean and how
to love them, and how a good statue or a
noble building should appeal to the soul,
and you have put on another wing to his
house of life.
Train his capacity to enjoy poetry, show
him the difference between real and imita
tion literature, open up to him the delights
of literature, and you have spread around
his house of life a noble park.
A man may be mean and evil in spite of
everything, but in proportion as his interests
and tastes are widened his chances of be
coming so are decreased.
We are put in this world to enjoy it.
Whatever opens your eyes and unstops your
ears to enjoy more of it, in ways that do
not debase you, is worth while.
Making money is only worth while as it
enables you to increase your appreciation of
j beauty. It you do nothing but make money
you are like a boy who goes to make a run
i and jump, and runs so far he can’t jump.
The enemy of life is pettiness, narrowness,
and selfishness. To develop the moral sense
is not sufficient to cure these diseases. One
must develop one’s whole nature. It is not
morality, it is life, including morality, we
need.
’Tis life of which our nerves are scant,
More life and fuller that we want.
(Copyright, 1924.)
M 5) FAVORITE STORIES
By Irvin S. Cobb
Horner Davenport, the famous cartoonist,
; told it io me. One evening a few months
: before his death, we were at a dinner togeth.
I er, and the talk fell on early experience.-*
j Davenport suddenly threw back his head and
I laughed.
‘■l’m thinking,” he said, “of a thing that
i happened to me when 1 was a gangling ki l
; out in Oregon. They organized a brass band
1 in our town and I broke into it to play the
j slip-horn, or, as some of these easternrers
1 might call it, the slide trombone. A job lot
of uniforms had been ordered, but. of course,
none of them would fit me. So they meas
j ured me with a string and sent the plans and
specifications to an outfitting house in Chi
i cago and in due time my uniform arrived
“The coat wasn’t sbbbaad —a trifle fiver four
■ or five inches too short in the sleeves, per
haps, and dhe collar tried to choke me to
death every time 1 put the darn thing on and
buttoned it up. Still, those were mere me
chanical details.
“But the pams—say, listen, believe it or
; not, when I wore those pants 1 had to take
‘ two steps w hi!*’ the.' were taking one.”
I (Copyright, 1924.)
SLANDER
BY HAZEL DEYO BACHELOR '
What has gone before. —Miriam Fol
well, a young business woman, has an
episode in her life, which although in
nocent, has caused scandal. She has al
most forgotten it when a year later she
becomes engaged to Anthony Breen,
and then out of the past comes a
woman who knows all about the inci
dent, and proceeds to make trouble.
Anthony believes the worst, but offers
to marry her anyway. Miriam, with
her faith in men shattered, refuses his
“magnanimity” and accepts an offer
from her firm to send her to Europe.
She succeeds in avoiding Anthony until
the moment of sailing, and then on
board the steamer meets Warren
Holmes, the man who is responsible for
everything. She has a bitter scene with
him, but afterward in spite of herself
she sees the fineness of the man and a
friendship develops between them. She
and Warren Holmes are together the
day the boat docks, and to Miriam’s
j amazement, Anthony is on the wharf to
meet her. —Now go on with the story.
CHAPTER XLIX
A Daring Idea
qiHE crowds swirled about them, and yet
the two men and the girl caught up
I on a wave of life, were seemingly
j alone. Miriam felt suddenly heady as though
she had taken a draft of champagne. This
situation couldn’t be real; it was too ab
surd—things like this didn’t happen, and
yet here she was, and here was Anthony,
and beside her stood Warren Holmes.
Anthony’s dark eyes met Warren Holmes’
steady blue ones as Miriam faltered an in
troduction, met them full, for a long mo
ment, then he looked at Miriam, utterly
ignoring the man who stood at her side.
“I want to talk to you. Where are you
stopping? Can’t we go there immediately?”
“Mr. Holmes has promised to see me safe
ly to my hotel.” Miriam’s voice shook a
! little as she answered. “Will you go with
I us?” ■
“Are you traveling together?” There was
accusation in Anthony’s voice, suspicion in
I his eyes. He was blinded with angry jeal
ousy, and because he had never trusted
Miriam and loved her in spite of his better
judgment, he was ready and willing to be
i lieve the worst.
I Miriam blanched under the cruel thrust,
I Warren opened his mouth, to speak, a little
flame burning in his eyes, but before he
i could say anything, Anthony was speaking
to Miriam.
“No matter now, I must speak to you. I
crossed the ocean for that purpose and I
j want to see you alone. If you will tell me
where you are stopping, I’ll call on you this
! afternoon.”
“Anthony, there is no reason why I should
see you. I have, nothing to say to you. I
told you the last time we talked that it was
the end.”
Since then you have met some one else
: who has fallen under the spell of your
I cna r m » is that it?” he asked with a sneer.
Warren had stepped back out of the sound
iof their voices. He was uncertain of what
he ought to do, and yet there had been an
unspoken appeal in the girl’s eyes, a wish
i that he might not leave her alone. He
( knew, of course, that this was the man who
i had judged her, the man she had promised
to marry, and he longed now to have it out
with him alone. He wanted to defend
Miriam, and yet the memory of her face
when she had recognized Anthonv roused a
fierce primitive jealousy in him that made
it difficult to see his way clear to anything.
Then suddenly as he stood there thinking
an idea occurred to him, an idea so startling
that the blood suddenly sang in his ears at
the daring quality of such a thought. Could
he do it? Would it be feasible, was there
a chance that she would see the thing as he
did? He hesitated for only a moment and
then yielding to impulse decided to take
charge of the situation.
“We really must get out of this crowd.
Mr. Breen, I thought the Guilford would be
a nice quiet hotel for Miss Folwell. I sug
gest that I take her there. Do you want to
come with- us, or will you call her up later
this afternoon after she has had time to
rest?”
There was a quiet possessiveness about
Warren’s manner, that was infuriating to
j Anthonv, but a relief to Miriam. She was
i glad that he had taken the decision away
from her, and she turned toward him
quickly.
“I am tired, and I think later today would
be best.
A moment later Warren was piloting her
f roWd ’ -Afterward Miriam found
it difficult to remember where she had left
Anthony, or what had become of him. She
knew only that she was very tired and that
ier 11G ad had begun to throb violently.
. hat she wanted was rest and she was will
ing to trust this silent man who seemed to
think more of her comfort than he did of
himself. Os course, his manner had been
[ incriminatingly but what did that
fullv er? Sle trusted him ’ she trusted him
( Ilmi’sday— “An Astounding Proposal.”)
QUIZ
Any Tri-Weekly Journal reader can
get the answer to any question puzzling
>nn by writing to The Atlanta Journal
Inlorniation Bureau, Frederic J. Has
kin, director, Washington, I). C„ and in
closing a two-cent stamp for return
XOT SEXD IT TO OUR
] ATLANTA OFFICR.
•
I Sta^es 1 ? 0^! latS been tbe United
|. A. The date of introduction of the rat
lor iS Very doubtf hl* hut the black
| or Alexandrine rat seems to have come first
! and was gradually driven westward by the
■ larger rodents. They were doubtless’ con-
I ratfound u IS COUntr >’ b - v shi P s - The black
rat found its way to Europe about the begin
th F slxte u ei L h century, but the brown
did not reach England until about 1728.
fh?’t the gold and silver coins of
States have a milled edge? K.
A. They are milled to make ifeasv to de
ed?e a ° f Weigbt CaUSed by scra P in S <he
wlmt g€t the Philippines and
" hat is the, total population of the Islands?
A. The Philippines were ceded to the Unit-
I ed States by the Treaty of Paris. 1899. fol
loving the Spanish-American war. There
aie uLd islands. ihe largest, Luzon, con
tains 40,814 square miles, and Mindanao,
the next. 36,906 miles. The population is
; estimated at 10,350,640.
Q. What is an iconoclast? N. m.
A. The word “iconoclast” is derived from
a Greek, word ‘ikon.” meaning “an image
■ 'leaixcr. 1-iguratively used, an iconoclast
is a term applied a person who breaks
doo established customs and beliefs.
,Q. Please settle an argument. A friend
claims that the word “cemeterv” was first
! used in this country and that' in England
they said “churchyard.” Is this true? H
K. M.
A. Both the word cemetery and the word
churchyard have been used for many cen
turies in England. The word cemetery was
originally applied to the catacombs in Rome.
It is found as early as 138 7 in England,
i e word churchyard. on the other hand, ap
i pears in the Old English Chronicles at about
| the ]
THE CROP OUTLOOK
T) begin with, the year 1924, so far,
has been a record year for cold
weather, heavy rains—and May is
more like March than the usual balmy
spring month, adorned with flowers.
There is a whole lot of vacant land, not
cultivated in anything. The landlords can
not hire day labor because the labor crowd
has gone to public works. Unless the farmer
has a stout force at home he cannot work
this land at all to profit. The cotton crop
in Georgia, in the northern sections, is
obliged to be very late. This is May 14 —
today;. May is half gone.
There are only two months in which to
plant and cultivate the cotton crop to a
finish. As I see it, 1924 will bring no
bumper cotton crop. No need to caution
farmers as to planting too much cotton. The
season is difficult, and the result is obliged
to be uncertain, and the high price will re
main. But I take comfort in the remem
brance that Providence will take care of us.
If we are doing out best, and can keep out
of debt, there will be no disaster to the in
dustrious farmer. Everything that will feed
man or beast should be given a chance.
Corn and peas are easy to cultivate and will
grow, if anything grows, in its season.
Nothing pays better than potatoes, and
nobody will regret the labor expended on' a
good garden. It is “half the battle.” My
mind goes back to the year 1854, seventy
years ago, when a killing frost on May 1
killed every green thing in upper Georgia.
Corn had been plowed over and cotton was
ready to chop out.
There was no wheat raised and I saw but
two peaches that year.
The crops were so late after replanting
that a drouth in June nearly finished them.
It was the very worst crop year I ever saw.
But we survived it—made out on what we
saved, and started over again, without much
complaint.
It goes without saying, that food crops
should be now stressed to the limit. A
country that can feed itself can always get
along.
THE SPEED .MANIA
A FTER reading of the tragic death of
/A Mr. Hugh McKee, long a resident of
X Atlanta, and the beloved nephew of a
dear friend of mine (also a connection by
marriage), I began to wonder if the world is
any better or any happier by the craze for
speed travel in the present era. Automo
biles could be made very enjpyable pleas
ure vehicles if all the people who drive
them were cautious and courteous to one an
other; but the fast going gets beyond cour
tesy and caution too often, and foot travel
ers are in deadly peril when the streets are
swarming with chauffeurs who determine to
get in front-of moving thing that ap
pears on the highways and the byways, and
thus “let the d—l care for the hindmost.”
The time is surely coming when these mo
tor cars must be confined to restricted lim
its or boundaries, and the killings must be
dea.lt with in the courts of the country, with
out fear or favor. It is bad enough to be
obliged to walk and attend to daily busi
ness, but it is horrible that foot walkers, un
able to own or hire a car or a truck, shall
A Lactic Acid Theory of the U
x’TTE know that chemistry plays an
\ y important part in modern indus-
* ’ try. We know that certain chemical
substances in minute amount, such as the
hormones that naturally exist in our bodies
and the drugs that we unnaturally put into
our bodies, have an effect upon our health
and temperament. I wonder if we cannot
go farther and inquire if our metaphysical
notions may not also be traced back to
chemical causes. How, for instance, do we
get our abstract ideas of space and time
which form th'e framework of the external
world?
Our concept of space seems to be founded
primarily upon the movement of our mus
cles. It requires more of an effort to reach
a yard than to reach a foot. We
get more tired in walking two miles
than in walking one. Os course, it
does* not always require the same effort to
cover a given distance with the arm or by
the legs, but the relation is much more
than the data given by the sense of sight,
where objects change their shape and size
quickly as we or they move about, in away
that must be most perplexing to a baby.
Even yet we may be deceived by our eyes
and mistake a bush on the next hill for a
tree on the horizon. Our sense for sound
is still more unreliable. So we Dall back
for substantiation and verification of extent
and distance on some sort of muscular ex
ertion. We measure space by our feeling
of fatigue. It is much the same with our
sense of the lapse of time. Two hours’
work seems longer than one. Though time
seems to go faster or slower, depending on
whether our employment is enjoyable or
distasteful, yet we average it up ii/the long
run as we do our spatial estimates, and
consider space and time objectively as con
stant.
Now what Is the cause of the feeling of
fatigue On which we base our ideas of ex
tension and duration? It is evidently de
pendent in some way upon the accumulation
of the waste products of muscular exertion,
such as lactic acid. Whenever we exercise
a muscle lactic acid is produced in propor
tion to the exertion and when the lactic
acid is made more rapidly than it can be
carried off by the blood and consumed we
get the sensation of fatigue. So our meas
ure of snace is somewhat dependent upon
the amoirnt of lactic acid in the body.
If this argument does not convince the
reader, I may approach it in another way.
Our only knowledge of space comes from
our exploration of it by movements of limbs
or bodys A spherical and stationary amoeba,
a mere drop of jelly, cannot be considered
as having any conception of spatial extent.
When a little lactic acid accumulates on the
surface of the amoeba the protoplasmic gran
ules at that point absorb water from other
parts of the organism by imbibition. This
produces a pseudo-podium, or extempore
limb, with which the amoeba may reach
out or propel itself along. When the lactic
acid vanishes surface tension overcomes the
imbibition and the organism resumes its
resting sperical form. According to this
theory the origin of limbs and of move
ments comes from an accumulation of lac
tic acid.
It seems to me. then, that there is a
chain of casual connection between lactic
acid formation and our conception of space
and time. If so, it means that our meta
physics has a chemical foundation; that
geometry is essentially a branch of chem
istry; that astronomy likewise depends on
chemistry; that Einstein’s theory of a four
dimensional time-space continuum has its
origin in deficient oxygen to keep down the
lactic acid In short, we have a lactic acid
theory of the universe, Q. E. D.—Science
Service.
FRISCO HAS FEWEST THUNDERSTORMS
According to twenty-year records com
piled by W. of the United
States weather bureau, San Francisco has
fewer thunderstorms than any other inhab
ited place in the United States. Only thir
ty-one thunderstorms occurred in the Pa
cific coast city in the years 1901 to 1923.
inclusive.
The place with the most thunderstorms is
THE COUNTRY HOME
BY MRS. W. H. FELTON
TUESDAY. MAY 20. 1024.
I not have the liberty to walk safely where
' they are obliged to go.
The automobiles which are driven or
guided carefully can make a safe journey
on suitable roads and streets, but the fact
remains that the desire to get in front and
pass the people ahead becomes uncontroll
' able and maniacal.
The steam cars are subject also to the
Icraze —to go faster. A few weeks ago there
were two serious wrecks on the Western and
Atlantic railroad, both “Dixie Flyer” trains
(made up with the finest of steel cars and
modern engines of up-to-date quality), in
side of two days. These trains usually carry
an immense number of tourists—going to
and from Florida ip the winter travel.
Those wrecked passenger cars were first
' class. And as my slower local train crawled
! alongside the wreck it was horrible to un
derstand that Death had such an opportunity
to work destruction in a single moment of
■ time.
Horse racing in Georgia, ninety years
ago, drew people from various states to see
the trained horses run four-mile heats (and
full sixteen miles) to win a race.
When* my husband, long since deceased,
was a boy of ten, such horse racing was car
ried on in Lexington, Ga., and he was fond
of telling what he remembered of those rac
ing horses and the wild excitement which he
witnessed.
It looks as if the human mind becomes
obsessed to go faster, and still faster,
whether It is riding in steam cars, or race
horses, or autos. Ocean liners run races
across the Atlantic Ocean, a 3,000 mile trip.
Airplanes are already wild, rabid on speed.
The air pilots get speed crazy, and the risk
to human life seems to be of small conse
quence, compared to the craving to fly, and
go faster and higher in the sky like frenzied
birds of passage.
In my'very advanced age I am afraid to
own an automobile with a hired chauffeur.
The temptation to go is great when one is
too infirm to walk. As long as it was toler
ably safe, I owned a pony and buggy phae
ton’ for myself. Once I narrowly escaped
with my life when the first automobiles
visited our town and # the gentle pony was so
frightened that she went perfectly crazy for
the time being—and dangerous.
If I dared to risk a buggy ride with a
slow nag in the hurdy-gurdy rush of the au
tomobiles and the delivery carts in our little
city, I should feel I was inviting the in
evitable. So endeth that chapter! “Noth
ing doing!” As I ruminate on the risks and
the dangers, I see what I must do, either
, stay at home or walk a little ways, or risk
the railroad as the safest venture for one of
my age—and never to attempt to cross a
crowded street without a strong and willing
protector at my side.
But the young are run down and killed
by auto cars more than the aged. Some
how, that atrocity must be prevented. In
some way punishment must be inflicted on
the reckless and indifferent speed maniacs.
The humblest citizen in Georgia has a right
to walk in peace and safety from death-deal
ing machines that invade the streets and
highways. Little children cannot play on
the sidewalks, and strong men are helpless
in the middle of any city street in Georgia.
A halt should be called right now.
niverse—By Dr. Edwin Slosson
Tampa, Fla., which sepred a total of 1,883
in the same period. Another place whose
inhabitants are accustomed to lightning
flashes and rolling thunder is Santa Fe, N.
M., where 1,4 5 6 storms occurred in twenty
years.
For the year as a whole, thunderstorms
have been found to be most abundant in the
lower Mississippi valley and along the east
ern gulf coast, averaging more than fifty a
year in those regions. Next to that section
they are most prevalent in New Mexico. In
the eastern half of the country the num
ber gradually diminishes to the northwards.
In the twenty-year period, Charleston, S.
C., had 1,174; Washington, 792; New York,
612; Boston, 377, and Halifax, 100.
The number Is least near’ the sea, in
creasing inland. For example, in the two
decades, Syracuse, N. Y., in about the same
latitude as Boston, had 678 thunderstorms
or nearly twice as many, while Cleveland
had 757, Chicago, 813, and St. Louis, 1,000.
Duluth, well to the north, and cooled by
the waters of Lake Superior, has relatively
few, the total for the time measured hav
ing been 589.—Science Service.
BACK-TO-FARM
Within a few years, the tide of population
now flowing toward the cities will turn and
there will be another rush of settlers onto
unusued land, Thomas D. Rice, of the
United States bureau of soils, has predicted.
Urging the necessity of maps showing the
character of soil to guide the future farm
ers in selecting farm sites, he declares:
“This next invasion of settlers will prob
ably stand in more heed of assistance in
selecting land and will be more willing to
receive such assistance than any which has
preceded. It will be composed not so large-
I ly of experienced farmers moving a short
distance onto good land, but of men of all
sorts, many.of them from cities to, take up
land in sections where they know little of
the soils and agricultural conditions. It is
reasonable to suppose, therefore, that a
greater number of these will require assist
ance in selecting their land and that the
soil survey and other branches of the agri
cultural departments will be called on for
advice.”—Science Service.
FLAPPERS
The bobbed hair miss with henna-hued
curls is not an exclusively modern product.
On the Samoan islands native men wear
■ their hair long. The women, however, cut
theirs short and bleach it to an auburn tint
with a wash made from the leaves of a
wild plant. Beauty spots made from alafa, a
thin leaf-like fungus, are often stuck on
their foreheads and cheeks. These patches
give the belles a striking appearance at
night. They are phosphorescent.—Science
Service.
DO YOU KNOW THAT
Blackwater fever, a dangerous tropical
disease, and the severer forms of malign
i ant malaria, are now believed to be identi-
Bureau of standards dyes are tested with
out actually dyeing cloth by measuring with
a spectrophotometer the light which passes
thiough a solution of the dye.
Cockroaches are fond of the starch, dex
biL n dings Ur ° r CaSein USed aS filler for cloth
Bird censuses are to he taken this sum
•ilTr,,'- t!e Stat es department of
agriculture and most of the work will be
done by unpaid volunteer observers.
‘ But this is a mauve taxicab.”
“Yes, sir.”. ■ <
My wife cautioned me to order a pea
green and pink.”
“Is the call urgent, sir?”
“Judge for yourself. She is dressing for
' the theater now.”
A.l well. That wil: give m r ample
tn have the cab redecorated. We in
. tend to please.”
I MY WIFE ANDI
BY CAROLYN BEECHER
What has gone before. — Robert Bruca
Henderson, young lawyer, falls victim
to the charms of Natalie while on a
business trip and marries her at once,
without knowing much about her or her
family. They begin housekeeping in a
New York apartment. Robert’s uncle,
for whom he was named, disapproves
of the haste of the wooing and wed
ding, but says nothing. Garth Holden,
handsome and wealthy college chum of
Robert, dines with them. Natalie ap
pears not to fancy him, but shows a
decided liking for Ned Church, a friend
of Bruce’s, who is pretty much of a
male flirt. Bruce returns late at night
from a trip. Natalie reaches hoqie
later and declines to tell Bruce whom
she was with. Bruce is made a part
ner in his uncle’s firm and Natalie de
velops extravagant tastes.—Now go on
with the story.
I HAD never thwarted Natalie in any of
her plans, but when I saw how she had
decided on plans for our summer with
out consulting me, I concluded it was high
time I asserted myself. Then, too, I dis
liked the thought of spending the summer
vacation in a fashionable place. Before
Uncle had suggested a cottage in the coun
try I had determined to rough it if Natalie
were willing—to go some w h ere i n the woods
and rest, wear old clothes, forget society.
But how much better to take a house in
the country for the entire season. Three
months or more of quiet country life would
get me up, make a new man of me physical
ly and mentally. With the motor uncle had
promised we would be independent, could
roam about country roads, picnic, 6tc. I
was immensely pleased with the prospect,
yet I would look about a bit before I men
tioned it to Natalie. If I could find an at
tractive place, small but convenient, I would
be prepared to sweep aside some of the ob
jections she might make.
I never was sure of Natalie, never certain
what would please, what, annoy her. At
first I had delighted in her elusiveness, the
thought that I would never know boredom,
but this baffling quality was beginning to
pall on me. I longed to know hpw she felt,
what she would do, whether a suggestion
would be acted upon or she would do just
the opposite—as often happened.
A thought was in my mind—a hope, un
believably alluring. Suppose we went to the
country and it should be the means of draw
ing Natalie and me closely together. Never
had I been able to feel close to her, not even
when*we were first married, and now she
■ seemed to be getting farther and farther
away all the time. Perhaps If she once
tasted the peace of a quiet summer with me,
just we two alone, her restlessness, her love
of excitement would leave her. Why in the
two, years we had been married I could
count on the fingers of one hand the days
we had spent entirely alone after we re
turned from our honeymoon.
Natalie's craving for excitement, her rest
lessness had at first seemed but the natural
desire of a small town girl to know the
gaiety of city life, to become acquainted
with her new environment, so I had willing
ly accompanied her wherever she wished to
go, even planning to show her everything
of interest. But long ago I had come to the
conclusion that her avidity for pleasure was
slowly but surely making havoc of our life
together, preventing the quiet intimacy that
a happy marriage demands for stability.
When I tried to explain this to her, talk
ed seriously of our future, she only laughed,
called me “an old fogy like your uncle,”
and went serenely on her way. So I had, as
Uncle said, burned the candle at both ends,
working hard all day, then working still
harder half the night to please her. I was
feeling the strain, was tired and a bit dis
gusted with the constant round of dining,
dancing, theaters, etc. At first I had fig
ured that it was an old story to me, that I
must be patient and give Natalib her fling.
But after two years she appeared more avid
than ever, more restless, less willing to give
anything of herself, her time, exclusively
to me. /
Her extravagance apalled me. Twice we
had moved to a larger, more expensive
’ apartment, each time refurnishing almost
wholly. We now kept two servants instead
of one—l often thought they got more ojut
of my home than I did, perfectly run though
it was. At first Natalie’s flair for clothes,
her exquisite dressing had added to my
pride in her. But now the bills for her
wardrobe had grown out of all proportion to
my income. In nothing had I been able to
curtail our expenses save in the purchase of
something for which she had no credit—an
automobile, expensive jewels, etc.
Whenever I remonstrated with her—l sel
dom did—she invariably reminded me thatr
I would get Uncle RoberPs money, that I
had no need to save, that little
enough out of her life as it was.
We had never really quarreled. I won
dered sometimes if it wouldn’t be better if
we did, if our nerves, perhaps our morals,
wouldn’t be improved by getting things out
of our systems instead of bottling them up,
hiding them under soft words or deadly
silences.
I loved Natalie as much, her allure for
me was as great, perhaps greater than ever,
yet I was far from happy. I was nearly
I thirty-one; I lived in a rented apartment I.
could not afford; I had used up practically
l all my savings as well as my increased in
come, and overshadowing all Natalie and I
were growing apart, we had no community
of interest.
“If you’d tell me about your cases you
wouldn’t embarrass me,” she said when I
spoke of this, tried to arouse her interest.
"What do you mean? How are you em
barrassed?”
“Nell Morton asked me what I thought of
the Dalton’s case. I told her I’d.never heard
of it. You should have seen her surprise.
Your husband’s firm is getting her a di
vorce, she' Informed me. You shut me
out of your affairs, then expect me to be in
terested in you.”
‘I have told you client’s confidences—”
“Oh, yes I know!” she replied impatient
ly. “But when you have a case like yiat,
society people, you might tell me about u
instead of making me wait and read it in
the papers. You want me to talk of books,
dry as dust subjects, and wonder why I am
not interested. I’d be interested if you
weren’t so afraid to gossip with me.”
“I hate gossip, as you know,” I told her,
the subject. The discussion ended
—as usual—dissatisfaction on both •vies,
yet no quarrel.
(Continued Thursday.)
There was a good attendance at the annual
dinner of “The Old Sports club.” The chair
man announced" that he was going to intro
duce a novel competition.
“A handsome gold watch will be presented
to the member who succeeds in telling the
j biggest fib,” he said.
All sorts of strange and wildly improbable
yarns were told, and at last it was the turn
I of Porkins, a man with a mania for fishing.
“I am afraid that I must decline to enter
this contest,” he said.
“On what grounds?” came a chorus of
voices.
“On principle.” replied Porkins, proudly,
‘"d never tell lies.”
The chairman h'-nded him the watch.
“You’ve won," he said. v