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LITTLE MISS FIXIT,
Care Tri-Weekly Journal,
Atlanta, Georgia.
A BIBLE THOUGHT FOR TODAY
And I say unto you, my friends, be not
afraid of them that kill the body, and
after that have no more that they can do.
But I will forewarn you whom ye shall
fear. Fear him who, after he hath killed,
hath power to cast into hell; yea, 1 say
unto you, fear him. —Fiom the Gospel of
St. Luke 12:4, 5.
Safety In Cotton Selling
ON TUESDAY morning the United States
department of agriculture issued a re
port, the substance of which was that
the American cotton crop was not doing so
well on September 16 as it appeared to be
doing on September 1. Production for the
season was estimated at 12,596,000 bales,
which is 191,000 bales less than the predic
tion made two weeks ago.
The upshot of this report was that the
price of cotton throughout the world rose
two cents a pound, or ten dollars a bale,
within a few minutes.
Such an increase in price is of consider
able importance to Georgia. If our State is
to produce, as the government estimates,
1,198,000 bales this season, ten dollars a
bale added value means $12,000,000, a
sum of money which in any circumstances
would have not a little lubricating effect on
the wheels of industry.
Up to September 16, a total of 288,131
bales had been ginned in Georgia. There is
no way of determining how much of that
had been sold. The presumption is that the
greater part of it had gone out of the
hands of the producers. And of this greater
part that had been sold previously to Sep
tember 16, it is quite certain that the
greater part had brought no more than
twenty-one cents, for this was the prevail
ing price during the first two weeks of Sep
tember; and before that time but little cot
ton had been ginned and ready for market.
In the light of Tuesday’s price action, it
would seem that farmers who sold their
cotton on Monday were in hard luck. They
got ten dollars a bale less than they might
have obtained twenty-four hours later. This
is an important amount of money to a Geor
gia grower, who is expert indeea if he Is
able to produce cotton In this year of grace
at a cost of less than one hundred dollars a
bale.
Those who sold Monday lost ten dollars a
bale, as contrasted with what they might
have, got the next day.
Those who sell Thursday may lose len
dollars as contrasted with what they may
be able to get twenty-four hours later.
Plow Us) the Stalks
WHILE The Journal does not presume
on Its own account to tell the farmer
what to do in his field, we welcome
opportunity to hand on the good counsel of
one who knows whereof he speaks, particu
larly when he speaks from such an abun
dance of experience and success as Mr. C.
W. Hillhouse, of Sylvester.
“Plow up your cotton stalks," urges Mr.
Hillhouse, in an interesting letter to the
Albany Herald, and goes on to show how
that st*tple precaution, if taken betimes, will
save Georgia a vast deal of agricultural
wealth* “The cold winter,” he writes,
“killed, .nany boll weevils; the dry, hot sum
mer destroyed more, so that at present there
are not many. Furthermore, the dry weath
er has stopped the cotton from putting on
any top crop, and In a few days all cotton
will be picked. Therefore, destruction of the
stalks ought to begin shortly. If not, they
will take on new growth, putting on new
squares and young bolls for late weevils to
feed on and multiply to large numbers be
fore frost; so that thee will be many
ly and cheerfuly see
that things are made
right.
We want every sub
scriber to get The Tri-
Weekly Journal reg
ularly and punctual
ly. We want all of
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they have paid for.
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fied subscribers. A
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Address,
THE ATLANTA TRI - WI.? .!< LY JOURNAL
weevils to go into winter quarters and a
large number to infest our cotton next year.
. . . Plow up as early as possible all cotton
stalks, and follow the plow and pull up any
stalks which it may have missed.”
We have fared so well against the cotton
foe this season that its ranks should be al
most routed by another summer, if the pres
ent advantage is duly followed up. What
with diversified crops and calcium arsenate
and the friendly intervention of mother na
ture herself, the cotton fields enjoyed larger
immunity from weevil attack than for many
a year gone. As great generals never lose a
moment in pressing the pursuit of an enemy
on retreat, so will good farmers be prompt
with decisive measures against, the boll
weevil.
Restoring Europe
IT must be admitted that when a President
of the United States is speaking on a
subject so far removed from politics as
the dedication of a monument to fallen sol
diers some allowance must be made for pa
triotic platitudes even though they have no
bearing on the sacred subject to which the
hour is consecrated. President Coolidge
very forcibly voiced the heart of the whole
country in his' address to survivors of the
First Division in Washington on the unveil
ing of the shaft erected in honor of their
noble dead, when he dealt with their sacri
fice and heroism, but his generalities as to
the whole country smack of party and carry
the reminder that this is election year.
On the day the President delivered his
address the League of Nations published its
findings in the carefully studied-out issue of
trade in arms and explosives as between na
tions. It was shown in a lengthy report,
covering all countries thoroughly, except
Russia, Germany, Austria and Mexico, that
for the three years of 1920, 1921 and 1922,
this trade amounted to $230,000,000, and
of that amount the United States sold $lB,-
000.000. This is not a record for boasting
in a country which fought the Great War
in the interest of peace and for the advance
ment of the cause of civilization. But the
story does not end here. The report of the
League carries the humiliating information
that the traffic in war material was made
possible by the action of the United States
in frowning on the international convention
on this subject in 1919. “The other manu
facturing countries,” says the report, “were
afraid to ratify the treaty, lest all the orders
they refused, largely because it was not
acceptable to the United States.” Just how
much moral responsibility this country, un
der the direction of the Republican party,
incurred in the slaughter of human beings
by two hundred million dollars’ worth of
agencies of murder distributed among them
for a price, only the Almighty, whose chil
dren they are, knows. We are only certain
that He does know.
In the face of this revelation the follow
ing lines from the speech of President Cool
idge sound like mockery: “We canuot claim
that our Government is perfect, but we have
the right to believe that it is the best that
there is. We do not claim we have been
able to discharge our full duty toward the
other nations of the earth, but we have a
right to believe that we have been the most
effectual agency in helping to restore Eu
rope.”
Nothing is needed to “restore Europe” but
the entrance of the United States into the
League of Nations, and the extension of the
World Court to include us. It is our ab
sence that complicates the situation, and
makes difficult the task of great humanitari
ans who are struggling with it so heroically;
and it is the Republican party that keeps us
out. If President Coolidge had said to the
assembled veterans at Washington, “You did
all for human liberty that men could do, on
the field of battle, but the real enemy was
always in your rear,” he would have inter
preted history in advance of the final ver
dict, but not in conflict with it.
QUIZ
Any Tri-Weekly Journal reader tan
get the answer to any question puzzling
him by writing to The Atlanta Journal
Information Bureau, Frederic J. Has
kin, director, Washington. D. C., and
inclosing a two-cent stamp for return
postage. DO NOT SEND IT TO OUR
ATLANTA OFFICE.
Q. What is the average price of passenger
automobiles?" J. K. R.
A. The aerage price of new cars sold is
sBll. and 75 per cent of all cars sold retail
for under SI,OOO.
Q. When did the late President Wilson
say, “Would that we could do something
at once dignified and effective to knock
Mr. Bryan once for all into a cocked hat?
F. T. P.
A. The Clark campaign managers gave
out on the eve of Jackson day dinner in
Washington in January, 1912, Wilson's let
ter to Adrain 11. Joline, president of the
Missouri. Kansas and Texas railway, which
contained the celebrated statement.
Q. Why is twelve inches called a foot,
and why is the name foot used for a unit
of measure? W. W. D.
A. The foot as used in the present
measurement of length is derived from the
human foot. The inch was selected for
purposes of convenience. The word is from
the Latin “unica,” meaning "a twelfth
part.”
Q. How did Thermopylae get its name?
G. W. G.
A. Thermopylae. Greece, means “hot
gates” and was given to this pass on account
of thermo or hot springs. This pass con
stituted the only good road from Thessaly
to central Greece.
Q. How fast does the moon travel In
its orbit. H. F. D.
A. The moon travels through space at
a speed of 0,350 feet per second.
THE SEA HAWK
BY RAFAEL SABATINI
(Published by Arrangement Willi First National Pictures,
.Inc. Copyrighted by Houghton-Mitflin Company. I
What Has Gone Before —Sir Oliver
Tressilian, renowned for his exploits
on the Spanish Main, is betrothed to
Rosamund Godolphin; but because of
personal enmity growing out of land
disputes the marriage is opposed by
both Rosamund’s brother, Peter, and
her guardian, Sir John Killigrew. Peter
takes every opportunity to manifest his
antagonism. In a drunken rage one
day, in the presence of Parson Flack
and Justice Baine, he insults Oliver,
strikes him with his whip and rides off.
Uttering a threat to kill him, Oliver
starts in furious pursuit. But good
judgment masters his temper and he
foregoes the pleasure of what he feels
would be justifiable murder for the
sake of Rosamund, who, he knows,
would never forgive him it Peter were
harmed at his hands.
But Oliver’s young half brother, Lio
nel, that evening accomplishes what
Oliver would have liked to do, and
comes home wounded from the en
counter. Peter, still drunk, Lionel re
lates, had affronted him, and drawn
his sword; his own he drew merely in
self-defense. But with no witnesses to
attest to the truth of this statement
Lionel could be accused of Peter’s mur
der, were his part in it to be known.
Terror-striken, he beseeches Oliver to
tell no one of his wounds.-*—Now go on
with the story.
CHAPTER IV (Continued)
WIT HOLT a word Oliver turned to a
side-table, where stood a metal basin
and ewer. He poured water, then
came in the same silence to treat his broth
er's wound. The tale that Lionel told made
blame impossible, at least from Oliver.
When he had washed the wound he
fetched some table-linen from a press and
ripped it into strips with his dagger; he
threaded out one of these and made a pre
liminary criss-cross of the threads across the
lips of the wound—for the blade had gone
right through the muscles of the breast,
grazing the ribs; these threads would help
the formation of a clot. Then with the
infinite skill and cunning acquired in the
course of his rovings he proceeded to the
bandaging.
That done, he opened the window and
flung out the blood-tinted water. The
cloths with which he had mopped the
wound and all other similar evidences of.
the treatment .he cast upon the fire. He
must remove all traces even from the eyes
of Nicholas. He had the most implicit
trust in the old servant’s fidelity. But the
matter was too grave to permit of the slight
est risk. He realized fully tlie, justice of
Lionel’s fears that however fair the fight
might have been, a thing done thus in secret
must be accounted murder by the law.
Bidding Lionel wrap himself in his cloak,
Sir Oliver unbarred the door, and went up
stairs in quest of a fresh shirt and doublet
for his brother. On the landing he met
Nicholas descending. He held him a mo
ment in talk of the sick man above, and
outwardly at least he was now entirely com
posed. He dispatched him upstairs again
upon a trumped-up errand that must keep
him absent for some little time, whilst him
self he went to get the things he needed.
He returned below with them, and when
he had assisted his brother into fresh gar
ments with as little movement as possible
so as not to disturb his 'dressing of the
wound or set it bleeding afresh, he took the
blood-stained doublet, vest and shirt which
he had ripped and flung them, too, into the
great fire.
When some moments later Nicholas en
tered the vast room he found the brothers
sitting composedly at table. Had be faced
Lionel he would have observed little amiss
with him beyond the deep pallor of his face.
But he did not even do so much. Lionel sat
with his back to the door, and the servant’s
advance into the room was checked by Sir
Oliver with the assurance that they did not
require him. Nicholas withdrew again, and
the brothers were once more alone.
Lionel ate very sparingly. He thirsted
and would have emptied the measure of
posset, but that Sir Oliver restrained him,
and refused him anything but water lest he
should contract a fever. Such a sparing
meal as they made—for neither had much
appetite—was made in silence. At last
Sii* Oliver rose, and with slow, heavy
steps, suggestive of his humor, he crossed
to the fireplace. He threw fresh logs on
the blaze, and took from the tall mantel
shelf his pipe and a leaden jar of tobacco.
He filled the pipe pensively, then with a
short iron tongs seized a fragment of glow
ing wood and applied it to the herb.
He returned to the table, and standing
over his brother, he broke at last the si
lence that had now endured some time.
“What,” he asked gruffly, “was the
cause of your quarrel?”
Lionel started and shrank a little; be
tween finger and thumb he kneaded a frag
ment of bread, his eyes upon it.
“I scarce know,” he replied.
“Lal, that is not the truth.”
“How?”
“’Tis not the truth. I am not to be put
off with such an answer. Yourself you said
that, you had warned him not to cross yofir
path. What, path was in your mind?"
Lionel leaned his elbows on the table and
took his head in his hands.
“ 'Twas that wanton at Malpas was the
cause of all,” he complained.
Sir Oliver’s eye flushed at the words.
“I deemed her quite other; I was a fool,
a fool! I—” he choked, and a sob shook
him—“l thought she loved me. I would
have married her, I would so, by God!
Sir Oliver swore softly under his breath.
“I believed her pure and good, and—" He
checked. “After all, who am 1 to say even
now that she was not? ’Twas no fault, of
hers. ’Twas he, that foul dog Godolphin.
who perverted her. Until he cam? all was
well between us. And then—"
“I see," said Sir Oliver quietly. “I think
you have something for which to thank him.
if he revealed to you the truth of that
strumpet's nature. I would have warned
thee, lad. But— Perhaps I have been
weak in that.”
“It was not so; it was not she —”
“I say it. was. and if I say so I am to be
believed. Lionel. I'd smirch no woman's
reputation without just cause. Be very sure
of that.”
Lionel stared up at him.
“O God!" he cried presently. “I know not
what to believe. I am a shuttlecock flung
this way and that way.”
“Believe me.” said Sir Oliver grimly.
“And set all doubts to rest.” Then he
smiled. “So that was the virtuous Master
Peter's secret pastime, eh? The hypocrisy of
man! There is no plumbing the endless
depths of it!”
He laughed outright, remembering all the
things that Master Teter had said of Ralph
Tressilian—delivering himself as though he
were some chaste and self-denying anchorite.
! Birds Are Southward Bound
THE birds are beginning their annual
migration to south Georgia and Flor
ida. The swallows already have de
parted, and, with them, the blue martins.
I Obeying an herited instinct, the latter gath-
I ered slowly from their wide cruising ground,
circled high in air, and took their departure.
, They are the first to go because their food
is the winged insect, and the life and season
of these is cut off by the first chilly weather.
Next will follow the purely insectivorous
birds of the ground, driven by necessity to
follow the grasshopper wave. Those that
divide their food as between the insect and
the seed will linger a little longer, and then
follow the season southward.
Among the latter are the bluebird, thrash- I
i er, ground thrush, brown thrush, red thrush,
mockingbird, catbird, finches, jaybirds and
song sparrows. The French mockingbird,
depending on insects, leaves early. The
yellowhammers (golder ammers) will re-j
main as long as they can dig larvae from
the rotting leaves and earth mold; and so
will the woodpeckers. It is probably true
that none of the birds that can subsist on
seed and vegetation would leave us if plen
tifully supplied with food. They do not
seem to suffer from cold. I have seen prac
tically all of them spend the winter along
my creek when fed. On one notable occa
sion redbirds, jaybirds, robins, thrashers,
yellowhammers, and even a red-headed
woodpecker, as well as mockingbirds, were
observed in midwinter feeding with the
chickens in a back yard at Holly Bluff. Os
course the sparrows were there. There are
seven varieties of sparrow in middle Geor
gia, and one, the swamp song sparrow, comes
from the north in winter.
The desolation of the country in the
winter season is due largely to the absence
of birds. It is the absence of birds from the
upper treeless levels of Spain that makes the
loneliness there oppressive. The Moors cut
away the trees to adapt the country to the
evolutions of their horses, and when chival
ry died the freed falcoons of every degree
swept the country of birds. The fields and
forests of Georgia would abound with birds
ail winter if they were consistently and
abundantly fed. A few bushels of small
grain scattered about the coverts of a farm
will soon cause the assembling of a surpris
ing number of birds, and they will continue
as long as the food is provided. Make a few
candles of tallow and chopped beef, stick
them in the forks of trees, and watch the
mockingbirds and woodpeckers find them! j
Os all birds that seem to enjoy the presence
of the human race, the mockingbird and car
dinal stick longest. Indeed, there are al
■ ways a few that risk starvation to stay
around their old haunts. Jn the city of At
lanta, last winter, one little girl kept her
bird friends throughout by casting abundant
food for them into the back yard. At Holly
Bluff, the main station on my creek, a
THE ESSENTIAL
By Dr. Frank Crane
THE most marked trait that distinguishes
the strong from the weak is the ability
to see what is essential and what is
non-essential.
The power of the artist is first of all the
power of choice, his ability to select from
the bewildering complexities of life the one
thing that is meaningful.
The modern realistic novel lacks the pow
er. All facts are of equal importance. The
slop jar in the house is as worthy to be de
scribed as a woman's soul. Hence the dreary
intolerable commonplaceness and the feeling
of ennui, tediousness, and cynicism of the
average novel published by Tauchnitz.
The cheap reds and yellows of Mrs.
Holmes *and The Duchess of a former day I
were better than the sick drabness, the hope-1
lessness and sadness of many modern au-'
thors. The former had at least some selec
tive power.
Every great passion is selective. Love !
chooses, emphasizes. Religion has the same
blessed quality of disproportion.
Homer, Dante, Victor Hugo, every undying
author, has been like the Parthenon at Ath-1
ens or the Cathedral at Cologne, not like the I
world, is or was but like the world wants
to be.
Men are inspired by soaring ideals; they
are deadened by the pitiful commonplace.
The master merchant differs from the ped
dler chiefly in his power to grasp essentials.
And the strong, victorious life has the
same gift, simply the skill to choose what is
worth while.
(Copyright, 1924.)
Then on that laugh he caught his breath
quite suddenly.
“Would she know?’’ he asked fearfully.
“Would that harlot know, would she sus
pect that ’twas your hand did this?’’
“Aye—would she,’’ replied the other. “I
told her tonight when she flouted me and
spoke of him, that I went straight to find
him and pay the score between us. I was
on my way to Godolphin Court when I came
upon him in the park.”
“Then you lied to me again, Lionel. For
you said ’twas he attacked you.’’
“And so he did,’’ Lionel countered in
stantly. “He never gave me time to speak,
but flung down from his horse and came at
me snarling like a cross-grained mongrel.
Oh, he was as ready for the fight as l—
as eager.”
“But the woman at Malpas knows,” said
Sir Oliver gloomily. “And if she tells—”
“She'll not,” cried Lionel. “She dare not
for her reputation's sake.”
“Indeed, I think you are right,” agreed
his brother with relief. “She dare not for
other reasons, when I come to think of it.
Her reputation is already such, and so well
detested is she that were it known she had
been the cause, however indirect, of this, the
countryside would satisfy certain longings
that it entertains concerning her. You are
sure none saw you either going or return
ing?”
“None.”
Sir Oliver strode the length of the room
and back, pulling at his. pipe.
“All should be well, then, I think.” said
he at last. “You were best abed. I'll carry
you thither.”
He took up his stripling brother in his
powerful arms ami bore him upstairs asj
though he were a babe. When he had seen !
him safely disposed for slumber, he returned!
below, shutting the door of the hall, drew!
up the great oaken chair to the fire, and sat!
there far into the night smoking and think-!
ing.
He rose up at last, cursing that wanton at
Malpas who had come to fling this fresh and
terrible difficulty where already he had to
face so many. He stood leaning upon the
overmantel, his foot upon one of the dogs
of the fender, and considered what to do.
He must bear his burden in silence, that
was all. He must kgep his secret even from
Rosamund. It split his heart to think that ’
he must practice this deceit with her. But
naught else was possible short of relinquish-:
ing her, and that was far . beyond his '
strength. • j
The resolve adopted, he took up a taper [
and went off to bed.
Continued Tuesday. Renew your subscrip- !
tion now to avoid missing a chapter of this
thrilling story. |
S.VH'RD.AY, OCTOBER 11, 1921.
—By Harry Stillwell Edwards
neglected mockingbird sustained himself on
holly berries and a. redbird was picked up
stuffed to suffocation vuth china berries. Ev
erybody apologized in a practical way.
The advertising columns of many maga
zines carry pictures of bird troughs and
fountains or bath bowls. They are invari
ably expensive, and intended for ornaments
on the lawns of the rich. They are not. more
necessary to the comfort or life of any bird
than simple and inexpensive arrangements.
In the first place, in this climate, bird houses
are not. needed at all. A little box or two
to please the wren and win her song at sun
set may be stuck around in the porches, but
the other birds do better in the trees and
bushes. The simplest form of feed trough Is
made from four-inch stuff fifteen inches long.
Suspend this from another made of ten
inch stuff twenty inches long. Suspend the
large trough, inverted, from a limb out of
reach of cats, and the small one under it.
The large one keeps the rain from the food.
Scatter a few handfuls of seed on the ground
and place the rest in the little trough,
which should be a few inches lower than
its roof, and the birds will come. The neces
sary animal food may be supplied by the
candles of chopped beef and melted tallow.
The whole system is cheap and will repay
a hundred fold the boy or girl who installs
and cares for it. But keep the cat indoors
at night, and chase her away from the feed
trough if she starts loafing around it, in the
daytime.
The value of birds on the farm has long
ago been demonstrated, and some once
classed as injurious are better understood.
The crow, once the Ishmael of the air, is
now justly valued as a servant of man; even
the English sparrow Is kindly spoken of.
The sapsucker—little peekabois, as the cre
oles call him—has been found to consume
larvae as well as sap. They all have their
missions, and divide the hunting fields very
skillfully. The thrushes keep to the coverts
and the bushes, scratching in the mold and
dead leaves; the wren searches the brush
heaps and house crevices; the jay, the fly
catchers, chats, pee-wees and cuckoos guard
the trees, the mockingbirds and sparrows
look after the orchards, and the butcher
birds and larks clear the gardens of cut
worms. The sparrows help them all. Oc
casionally—perhaps a little oftener—some
of the birds get into the figs, grapes and
peaches; but they earn their dessert. The
insects they have destroyed would have in
flicted more damage. And besides, they are
just as much the children of the Almighty
as we, and not one of them falls to the
ground unseen. The Friend of little chil
dren has said so. This same Friend linked
together the child and the bird as subjects
of His especial care. Why not teach them
to love each other? It is easy to teach them
both; the bird will love the hand that feeds
it; the child Instinctively loves that which Is
dependent on it.
THE NEW TEACHER
By Dr. Frank Crane
a T the close of the first day of school the
aA new teacher said:
x “Now, children, listen, and I will tell
you how I have marked you, and give you
my reasons.
“In the first place I will explain that I do
not mark at all upon how well you get your
lessons. You may really know much more
about the subject than you tell. Besides,
you are not here to get lessons and pass ex
aminations. You are here to grow. So I
mark you upon how you show that you are
making that kind of effort which forms char
acter.
“Jimmy Fitch, I have given a good mark
because he was the only one in the room
who asked what the word ‘syndicate’ meant.
None of the rest of you knew. Why didn’t
you ask? Asking questions is the best way
to learn. Slurring over things you don’t
understand is the best way to become an ig
noramus. If you are not curious it is a sign
you are stupid.
“Willie Waters I have given a high mark
because when I asked him who Napoleon
Bonaparte was he said, ‘I don’t know.’ He
probably had a vague notion, but he did not
seek to deceive me. I want you, when you
cannot tell a thing in plain words,, not to
hem and haw, but to say at once, ‘1 don’t
know.’ To have an honest mind is better
than having a stuffed one.
“Charles Stuart is commended because he
stands up straight, sits properly in his seat,
and is not otherwise slovenly in his habits.
“When Jennie Jones failed in her spelling
the word ‘choler’ she Went to the foot of the
class with a smile, and for that she gets a
high mark. Some others of you.pouted and
sulked. There is nothing you can do that
is so commendable as to be a good loser.
Anybody can succeed pleasantly; it takes a
noble nature to fail good naturedly.
“During the day six promises were made
me by six pupils. Only one of them, Henry
Clark, did what he promised to do. So he
has a high rating. When you become men
and women and get the habit of promising
thoughtlessly and not keeping your word
you will be a nuisance to all those who have
to do with you. Do what you say you will
do; that is better than being able to bound
Illinois or tell the capital of Kamchatka.
“Now you may run home, children. And
remember that in the school there are no
rules but two: Do what you think is right
and be cheerful. And in case you don’t
know, ask.”
(Copyright, 192 4.)
MY FAVORITE STORIES
By Irving S. Cobb
Some years ago the musical union of New
York passed a rule to do away with “dou
bling”—that is, to stop a man from jump
ing, say, from a tuba in a band to an or
chestra ’cello. The spirt of the rule was,
of course, to give employment to as many
individuals as possible.
Then the union designated a number of
one-man committees to see that the order
was obeyed. Sunday was the likeliest day
for infractions on account of the number
of picnics and outings, and the ferry houses
made natural lurking spots for investiga
tors.
An agent thus assigned approached the
New York end of the journey to Hoboken.
Ahead of him was a German with a tuba
over one shoulder and who was also trans
porting a bass viol by means of a strap.
From the rear the sight would have been
mystifying to anyone but a musician, as it
seemed to suggest an animated mountain
peak equipped with legs.
The investigator overhauled the battery of
instruments and asked sharply: “What are
you doing?”
The Teuton knew he was trapped, but
was inclined to stall, so he resorted to
the old “Who, me?”
“Yes, you.”
“Why, I ain’t doing nutting. I’m chust
out for a leetle walk.”
(Copyright, 192 4.)
The Second Mrs. Strong
BY HAZEL DEYD BACHELOR
What has gone before. —Matthew
Strong marries his stenographer, Julie
Benton, and when he brings her home «
after the honeymoon his daughter Claudia
does everything in her power to make
things uncomfortable for her new step
other.—Now go on with the story.
CHAPTER XVI
Some Plain Facts
JI LIE'S hands clinched in her lap. She
felt that it was now or never. She must
assert herself, she must, she must!
“Claudia, I cannot allow you to speak to
me like that,” she said evenly. She raised
her head and met Claudia’s gaze full, but
there was something about the girl’s expres
sion that made her own eyes waver. It was
an expression so malevolent, so full of con
centrated scorn that it seemed to Julie that
she could hardly bear to meet it.
“You dare to assert your authority over me,
you!” Claudia's tone was low and intense.
“You must he mad. If you don’t like the way
I behave, go to my father with it, but don't
make yourself ridiculous by interfering. After
all, what do you know? You, who made up
your mind to ensnare my father deliberately,
who schemed to make him marry you. Go
and tell him what I said, if you like. I’ve
been waiting for something like this, and I,
too, will have a few things td say. I can
make you ridiculous before him. I can show
you. They know, a servant always knows,
and hesitates to obey any one who is unused
to authority.”
Claudia’s wild outburst was interrupted by
the entrance of Josephine, the rather pertly
pretty waitress. As a matter of fact, Josephine,
had been listening at the door of the
pantry, and her face was drawn into a. ratm>t* ’
insolent smile. Julie saw this, and her own
face went scarlet. The hot tears rose to her
eyes, and leaving her dessert untasted, she
rose and left the table.
In the library she walked up and down un
certainly. Claudia's vicious words were still
echoing in her ears, and she was well aware
of the fact that if she did not take some
stand, life in her husband's house would be
henceforth unbearable. She would have to
speak to Matthew. She would have to enlist?
his aid, even if by doing so she admitted her
own weakness. She wondered vaguely if.
Claudia would seek her out again before leav
ing the house, but shortly afterward she heard
Claudia’s light footsteps descending the stairs.
A moment later there came the peal of the
doorbell, murmured voices and then the front
door slamming, and the sound of an automobile
outside.
Julie spent an interminable evening. She
tried to read, but found that she could not
keep her mind on the printed page, and from
time to time she dropped the book in her.lap
and tried desperately to decide what to do.
She knew that Claudia would arrive home be
fore the last train was due. But when shortly
after eleven she heard the latchkey in the
door she sprang to her feet with a little cry
of surprise. A moment later Matthew was
entering the library.
“Still up?” he said, coming over to her and
taking her in his arms. For a moment there
was silence. His nearness never failed to
thrill Julie to the depths. Sometimes she
would go to his closet and hold one of his
coats - against her face just for the joy of
seeming near to him, and tonight she closed
her eyes and breathed deep that mingled sincll
of tweed, tobacco and freshly laundered linen.
“Thought I'd get home early and surprise
you.” Matthew said at last, drawing away,
lie was uncomfortable sometimes at Julie's
obvious adoration. There was something cold
in his nature, something that despised the
sentimental in relationships. Perhaps if he
had loved Julie more, he would have been dif
ferent, but as it was she sometimes embar
rassed him.
“Where’s Claudia,” he asked, tipping back
her face and looking into it closely. And then
suddenly a look of amazement swept over his
features, and he bent to scrutinize her more
closely.
“You’ve been crying. What has happened?
Has anything gone wrong? Answer me, Julie,
answer me immediately.”
Tuesday—“ Julie's Mistake."
Farms, Farming and Farm Boys
BY JQHN CARLYLE
Fn ARM products sold by farmers in our
markets today bring only about 6 per
cent more than they did before the
great war.
In the same time the cost of living has,
gone up 6 4 per cent.
The American farmer hasn’t been doing
as well as he should. Just now wheat and
corn are up. Things look better for the
farmer. He will do better. But he must
be helped to do better on a permanent
basis.
Poor returns to the farmer have had moA
than one effect. They have done more
discourage the farmer.
Bad news has discouraged young men -ftrno
would like to farm—and the country might
ily needs them. And it has discouraged
schools and teachers from the promotion of
agricultural courses. That is serious.
Some state legislatures have sensed the
need. The Michigan Agricultural College*
and Agricultural Station is asking for more
than four and a half millions of dollars for
operating expenses, new buildings and equip
ment. The Michigan legislature will be
liberal.
Thirty-two states Lave legislation relat
ing to agricultural instruction in the schools.
Twentyeight require agriculture to be
taught in rural schools.
But boys and young men are doubtful
about farms and farming and farm course!
in schools and colleges because they are
properly doubtful about being able to make
a good living for themselves and the fam
ilies they hope to rear.
There is not a problem of more funda
mental importance demanding solution in
the United States today.
The 28 states in which agriculture Is a
required study in rural schools ought to be 1
made 4,8.
The millions which the legislature of
Michigan will give to a state college ought ,
to be duplicated in other states.
But above all the farmer himself should
be given the largest support the govern
ment can devise to the end that middle
man’s profits shall be cut and the farmer
get a living price for his wares.
(Copyright, 1924.)
PUNGENT PARAGRAPHS
Manufacturers of fancy hatpins report a
heavy slump in their business.
India is practically a soapless country.
Very few death sentences are passed in
England.
Many authors write five or s’x thousand
words a day.
Yea’s sometimes pass before a race horse’s
>alue is realized.